inside my heart is a hive of 10,000 bees,
buzzing and pouring honey,
sap, through my veins --
thickly, slowly,
in throes of
ecstasy

Morning afters are always
Idyllic; breezy, balmy, slow.
Blue sky highways
White clouds completing the tableau.

Morning afters are quiet
Sleepy cuddles and kisses
While butterflies riot
Deep in your insides.

Morning afters are filled
Full up; a carnival mix bag of treats
Feelings of contentment and thrill
Yet somehow full of deceit.

Morning afters are never
What they seem
Peel past the bucolic exterior
And it's merely a vanishing dream.

I was chicken
dropped only a half tab--a quarter before midnight  
and hurried back to my apartment
before the day changed    

from a Monday
to a ruby Tuesday  
where my walls melted
and music smelled like sassafras;
the flickering flares of light from two fat candles  
tasted like toasted almonds    

every eternal hour, or minute,
or so, I would try to tiptoe down the hall  
past the sleeping neighbors who were all dreaming
of me, skulking past their locked doors

but I never made it to the street
a feat that would have demanded
I stop giggling, and my heart stop thumping
for any pig or narc could have seen
my crimson machine pumping
ready to fly from my chest    

dawn did finally come--I was
coming down, down from the floor
on which I had lain from the minute
a ferocious fly dive bombed me
somewhere around three  

I walked to the corner grocery store
where I bought pan dulce, and was glad the clerk
spoke no English, for surely she would have asked me
to tell her how I survived such an aerial assault  
in peacetime

Listening as nature narrates Spring
Glistening blades of new grass bring
Robins that sing
Inspiring

Bands of color white, green and gold
Stand in splendor that hearts behold
Expression so bold
Beauty unfold

Feeling the breeze it sways the tree
Reeling in thanks for eyes that see
Life in thee
Affectionately

Basking in the warmth of day
Asking Sun to toss away
Clouds of gray
To yesterday

Free me of the winter past
See the Spring arrive at last
Away the cold is cast
Happily fast

fernweh is a german word that means to be a homesick for a place you've never been, so i wonder what you call missing someone who was never yours.

Last night was hard for everyone, for all of us
The moon noticed your obvious absence and lit bright trying to trace you from every corner of  the universe
the stars were sad and they tried so hard to blink back their tears
even the nimbus clouds detected the heartbreaking melancholy
and tried to blanket them from the chilling cold of solitude
but the twinkling stars still struggled to peep through
the blanket cast between them and your absence
like little children afraid of the dark until the clouds gave up
for even they ,no matter how strong they pretended to be
the weight of despondence got the better of them
and they subsequently expressed their pain in burdened tears of rain
the roof tried to hold the tears from my unconscious sight
but my ears sadly caught the pattering sobs
darkness whispered some advise but my ears were too sad to hear
and my brain numbed by the scintillating thoughts about you
I tried to kick out the emptiness through listening to the radio
but my fingers were too frozen and weak to turn the ****
so I gave up and just sat quietly inside the net listening to a silence
whose eloquence was labyrinthine and discombobulating
because weaved within mosquitoes did their best to sing me a lullaby
but in anger I violently swatted as many and as many did die
it still was hell hot with my limpid Heart ice cold
yet I still hoped against all odds you would appear
I waited for you like Santa waiting for Christmas,
like anxious Jews waiting for the coming Messiah,
like the Mediterranean sea patiently waits for waters of the Nile,
like a Groom waits for his Bride as she walks across the isle,
I waited for you like a lass waiting for a Telenovela...
or a staunch catholic waiting for a positive eventuality to his Novena,
I waited like the minute hand waits for the second hand of the clock
like the dull pulse of the heart waits to happen after the loud one...
I waited for you like an insomniac waiting for sleep,
sadly sleep never came... so I gave up to wait for the next day
like the invisible sun through a night knowing in the dawn my voice
might reach you like beautiful rays and whisper
to the far that is near how I wish you were here
in a message right into your small pretty ears
I missed you like a baby misses its mother,desperately and in tears

.
Teems in the whirling grasses,
Fire in the daisies, littlest suns
Becoming patchworks of stars
Above the hallowed loams of soil,
The black ants shine in the light,
Spiders construct their silk laces,
Line by line as the wind unweaves
In the crepes, even in round dew,
One can see the globe of waters,
Watching itself in minnows' eye,
The insects, fly, iridescent gods
Floating sparkles, burst, buzzing
Wings, the stems of green ferals
Flowers flagging them into grace,
With chalice, tasting cup in blood
Of the petals, to thirst and quench
Ambrosial nectar, freshness, new,
Sweet in the tendril vines embrace,
The songs of colours, lowly birds,
Even higher, sing, above, choirs
Of the knarled and ancient twig
Branches that flame into briars
With leaves of yellow, feathers
So fair, water cresses in pools
Of the meadow and the violets
And buttercups spun, painted
With splattered, arts, confetti
Whirl, world in meadow sun.