Bath bomb You
Erupted
In my bath tonight
Like a volcano...

I enjoyed watching you
As you
Bubbled away.

You ignited
With so much sweetness
And scent... floral essence!

The
Petals within
Floated
To the surface
Like a Garland
Toward the shore.

Bath bomb
You gave me the universe
And more
You
Bath bomb
I adore.

SPLASH!

By Violet.

~for the one who will know it was written for her~

muddy verb and adjective,
muddling and muddled

have you ever seen a pas de deux/deluxe,
one dancer, proscriptive,
and her partner, prescriptive?

the stage, of course,
exactly the width of your head,
from ear to shining ear

this couple o’muses dance en concert,
though their very natures are anti-logarithmic,
the value of their exponential activity is a
descriptive nomenclature

I am overly abstruse this Saturday morn,
mushing mathematics and ballet, verbal word games
as is my wont wanted,
everyone sleeping while I rise at 6am,
doing ablutions, seeking absolution,
pulling weeds from our respective gardens,
answering old friends I have yet to meet,
to whom I answer,
“still here, though long time no see,”
which is of course hysterical funny, inherently contradictory,
as the brain grasps well my
Red and Dead Sea brain cells, a splitting motif

muddling and muddled,
proscribed from getting on transport,
to deliver to you the proper healing prescriptive,
as if I had in my possess to diagnosis and correctly assess

even though one of my many passport names,
a requirement, to visit,
this inter-netting ether, that both combines and separates,
permits me safe passage,
over the historical lineage of borderlines of land and sea,
to deliver this message,
to you
woman

I am here, waiting patiently, though long time no see like ever,
absentia, dementia, both self-censure,
here, then, my cadenza,
dedicated solely soulfully for you,
as the sabbath sun rises over the East River,
saying, laughing unto me,
“still here, though long time no see,”
for though I cannot look upon her, my sun, my sun,
yet she, as well, is everywhere-inside of me,
warmly illuminating my muddled mind

I am the warm lips of sun, that kiss your dew drenched petals,
when you in self oblivion try to embrace, I've gone faraway,
playing  with love struck clouds, dancing, their slips flying,
I am the fire making your body burn with desire,slyly planted

I am the wind, licking pollen off your stamen softly, making you
want me to do that more, sowing goosebumps all over
I am the movement of desire, moving through that time of the day
languid in mornings,spreading fervor at noons and in darkness
coils like a serpent that searches for burrow to snuggle in til dawn

Flow of water am I, that carries you along easily throughout,
you could ease in to me, I am the bed and the fingers caressing,
in my dreams you are the  sneaking fingers of my naughty lover,
in you are my ablutions, my fire is quenched  by your  flows.
I ooze,fluids of many scents sometimes a sprouting spring.
I trickle with  pleasure, lubricate,cross one level to the other.
                                               (C)

She has sunshine
in her hair,
like sun
on fields of corn.

I walk there,
brushing my fingers
through the softness.
She welcomes me in,

in I swim
through the waves
of her love;
she is my siren,

I, a drowning ******.
Her lips are as fruit,
I am upon them
as a child greedy

for sustenance;
her moistness
embraces me.
Her thighs are ocean-like,

I bathe as one
needing salvation,
ablutions to a new end,
will this release

the dead me
or mend?

The dream always beckons with a resolution,
while a new day holds unimagined sights.
Yet, the dream resolves only into continuation
ad nauseam through another wasted morning’s light.

While a new day holds unimagined sights,
I awaken mainly to delay alarms
ad nauseam through another wasted morning’s light,
stumbling blindly with an outstretched arm.

I awaken mainly to delay alarms
Yawning through bleary eyes into still weather,
stumbling blindly with an outstretched arm -
the clear morning looks a hopeless endeavor.

Yawning through bleary eyes into still weather,
I eventually haul these stiff limbs through ablutions.
The clear morning looks a hopeless endeavor,
though I can begin to glimpse possible solutions.

I eventually haul these stiff limbs through ablutions,
because the dream resolves only into continuation.
Though I can begin to glimpse possible solutions,
the dream always beckons with a resolution.

it was the day of the fall equinox
and I fell for the idea that all would be equal
but that idea opened pandora's box
to yet another sequel

Of horrors pouring, jaws ajar;
Claws and eyes both pointed
And lashing out both near and far
Leaving all my world disjointed.

How did I become a bystander to what I started
I swear I'm a good person and kind hearted
I just wanted to get laid, but you know what they say
about the best laid plans of mice and men
they go and arise to the horror that was today
Now I long for the blissful ignorance I had back then

You see, not all is as it seems with me,
I have my fair share of cryptics
But this was unknown to even yours truly
I had not expected the apocalyptic.
My eyes and soul and heart was blank,
I had not an idea for solutions
All was lost, my confidence shrank,
I felt *****, in need of ablutions.

It started out as and innocent fling
but after her ***** willow went up my tree
she expected a ring
I fled from her bed in hurry
but I had no idea the calamity it would bring.

I really had opened Pandora's box,
In more ways than just one.
Now she claims to love me, 'lots and lots'.
Oh Hell, what had I done?
I ran and hid, far from her home
Yet she searched for me endlessly
Spitting fire from her mouth of rabid foam
Ripping apart both Land and Sea.

She scorched the earth in my name
all eyes and claws pointed blame
the people didn't deserve such a fate
but I knew she was using them as bait
How did she transform from a magnificent maiden
to a brew of Maleficent and the spawn of satan
nevertheless
she could not find my place of rest

Which was right inside myself, you see:
I hid in between my lungs.
So off in disguise,
Right under her eyes
To the sea, I ran and I plunged.
Once out in the Sevens
I reached out to the Heavens
(The ones I'd not believed before)
And I cried,' Someone please save me
From this bat-**** old lady;
Give me help!' I strongly implored.
All of a sudden, the waters did blacken
I had no time to swim, for out burst a Kraken!
'The eyes look familiar', I thought in my head,
Then I realised: The beast is the woman I'd bed.

This Kraken was looking to crack in my skull
there had to be some way to get her roar to dull
but I was a sitting duck, so I tossed in my white flag
and tossed in some loving words almost causing me to gag
she tied me up until we tied the knot
and used my white flag as her vail
I spent my time trying to plot
how to make this wedlock fail
when the reverend said you may kiss the bride
I revealed the concealed weapon I had by my side

Just a wedding ring, was my weapon,
Rounded, gold with diamonds; seven
It was made for her and she loved it dear
Unbeknownst that she should be filled with fear...
We'd now been married for quite some time,
I'd let her love me before my crime,
For the best way to **** a woman - to start,
Is let her fall for you then break her heart.
I found the perfect way to make her life end
So while she was out, I had *** with her friends.

But I said nothing, I let rumors fly
the truth hurts, but what kills is no reply
I let her head spin
and let her unravel
what once was an overbearing boulder
had turned itself into gravel.
the time was now prime
to commit my final crime...

People talk about death
As if it is the end
Sometimes I see it as a beginning

They tell me that a person expires
When there role is played
And they have done there part

Sometimes I think this body of ours
Is made of wood
The older it grows the more it has to offer

Many people die before their time
People talk of death among other things
These are the very people who should be allowed to grow

Sunrise bathes me with His gold
my complexion has turned a golden hue
my hairs are rays of light now
and lips amber gems
gaze into my eyes beloved
pools of sweet honey swirl
come sit by this blushing lotus pond
and we will sing luminous songs of the Sun

Nima splashed water from one
of the fountains in Trafalgar Square
over Baruch. Laughing she did
it again, but he side-stepped, like

one out of rain, hands wide as if
to bless. He'd met her a few moments
before; by Nelson's Column, she’d
written from her hospital bed, drug

taking recovering (so said), cold
turkey or whatever she'd scribed.
Finishing the ablutions, she walked
on, he followed, stepping beside

her, catching her in profile, taking
in her cropped hair, brown, washed
and washed. She talked of the nursing
staff, who talked of her behind her

back, some at least, she added, chat
of the *** cupboard we used, that
time you came, she said, laughing,
walking out of the Square, along by

the gallery, her voice too loud, he
thought, but sounded out by the
traffic passing. She was clothed in
a blue dress, too short, he thought,

seeing her thighs, sans stockings or
tights, sandaled feet. They went into
Leicester Square, she talking of one
of the quacks she'd seen, head case,

foreign, fancies himself, she added.
Baruch, spied the billboards, new
films, merchandise, drinks, cigarettes,
lowering his eyes, watching her sway

her hips and ****, hands swinging,
gesturing.  She stopped by a bench
and sat down, he did likewise, ears
catching her words, holding them in

his mind, something about them being
jealous of my sexuality she added,
giving Baruch the eye, maybe thinking
me a *****, a druggie slapper, she

said laughing, her hand rubbing against
the top of his, he sensing skin on skin,
remembering, the quickie in the side
room, cupboard size, just off the ward.

He talked of his boring job, the mind
numbing labours, the Coltrane jazz LP,
played on and on, he said, eyes closed.
She lay her head on his shoulder, he felt,

smelt the combination of expensive scent
and hospital smell (soaps or disinfectants),
felt her fingers rubbing his. She took out
a cigarette, offered him one, he took and

she lit up with red plastic lighter. Inhaled,
exhaled, inhaled, silence, her hand wrestled
with his, watching smoke rise, upwards,
twirling, in the hot summer spread skies.

It is often said
That living is the rarest thing
Some people merely exist
I can promise myself this
That the rivers will flow
And the trees will bring wood
Fish don't have feelings
But, innocence fades
That is what clears my conscience
The iota of ephemeral contrast
I can sustain a worthy purpose
Which may have a fleeting foundation
One of immense virtue
That a plebeian approach cannot understand
If I take the crooked path
I can walk among my peers
Who have been waiting
For me
To live free as well
But stand strong I must
As I gaze into an abyss
Without purpose
Undoubtedly determined
I can do something, methinks
Instead of doubting my own perception
Yet, I cannot predict
When the diurnal birds will go in abmigration
I simply forget
Some skip south much of autumn
I cannot remember
When will the solitary tree lie bare
The weather behaves like an intelligent child
No one knows where the wind goes
If you ask why, you question your wisdom
Only you and yourself
Can find the purpose
For the phenomena within
That tells you to move on forward
Contrary to popular wisdom
Until the final beat of an unseen presence
Ushers you into its arms
And like an abyss staring back at you
Tells you there is no rainbow down there
To confirm your fears
Or affirm your immense virtue
Your glory fades
When death holds you closer