Sometimes
we must open
words like
unexpected
            gifts,
unwrapping
them with
reverence
           and honor
gently removing
their layers
ever so gingerly,
       ******* their
                   meanings
with utmost care
so as not to disturb
them as they sleep
tiptoeing through
the house barefoot
in a gentle,
        sacred dance
letting each
tiny wisp
of meaning
        caress our cells
in white,
feathery
seedlings that
shimmy in the wind
      Other times
we must let
each letter
     kiss the air
around us
      in a frantic whizzing
and imprint itself
upon our hearts
as they beat
   Personally,
     I prefer
to just sit still
upon the sand,
right where tide
licks my feet
in between that
mystical space where
           ebb meets flow
in perfect, utter silence
Then, in meditation
            stance, fingers  
                    curved up,        
I am
           ready for that
liquid receiving
letting the waves
of verse and rhyme
wash right over me
my very molecules
taking them in,
salty sweet
        in most
              delicious
                           fusion
as abundance
and the convulsion
of ecstasy
whisper
        my name

What if
          I
                                                  ­Fall
In
              Love
With
      A
       Poet?
What if he mesmerises me
       With his lines?
What if
        His words touch me
        And kiss
           Through my skin?
     What if i search for
Him
Everyday
And
      Travel through
              His words
    And meet him
                  Somewhere
       And
We
       Become bare
          And he caresses
Me
          With every
      Stanza
And
       Here
           I am
                Again
Searching
           For him,
    Wanting
Him
        With
                 All
                      Desire
Waiting
             For
                 His
                   Next
                      Poem
                         To
                            Take
                             ­ Me
                          To
                       His
                   World
                Where
             We
          Will
        Lay
      Bare
   What if
               I
                  Fall in love
                      With
                  A
             ­         Poet?

© Evna-Luna

We're all idiot fish in a barrel
Jumping into the air to watch the bullets
**** by our fins and hoping the
Strike doesn't hit but misses

And kisses the outskirt of our barrel.

The water is draining fast
And we struggle in all the odds
Against each other and try to get to the
Bottom where there's more water

But we're all gonna die anyways.

So we push each type of fish at each other and smother the others in blood
Of their brothers and don't do anything
Until one of the fish jumps out of our home

And right at the man cleaning the barrel of the gun.

Was it fun watching us unfairly die
While you are doing nothing
With our dying folk
But watching us perish.

You're a real jittery man I bet.

But as bullets fly by the fish we
Demand to run arrogant politicians to
Calm our gills and ask into our feels


But it doesn't matter anyway.

We're all idiot fish in the barrel fighting each other while someone pops holes
In our walls and allows the oxygen in.

We'll all die anyways.

What's a little distance and time,
when they're the only two things
left standing between you and I?

Although the breeze
blows through,
crows and criticisms
***** my opinion of you.
Explanations too convoluted
forget them.
Generosity with your words,
harsh but clear.
intelligence/auras/fear.
Just stop with this facade!
Killing the last of whats left of
Love, Love. Love?
Mishaps after its theft
none will chase after it.
***** coloured dreams
pipe-smoked up,
quenching this fume fueled
rampage of words.
SILENCE.
till
unleashed
voices
whisper...
                                 ***
Zirconian truths.


Blindingly Brilliant. Brilliantly Blinding.

underestimate
the power of a woman
and she'll destroy you