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Sweet tamarind pods stick to the warm black tarmac
where fortunate doves wander about in the shade,
trilling to themselves, and each other.

Either something strikes them as funny,
or they just love their easy lives.

Certainly, they sound so different from their
modest cousins, cooing sadly in colder places.

Born here in Paradise, these birds wear blue
eye shadow every day, and not just on weekends.

Late afternoon finds me in their lazy midst,
hair wet and curling, sand stuck to my bare, tanned feet.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Like the stormy wind in a sunlit day
You always love to contradict me.
I tell you stories of monsters,
You transfigure them into angels
With your wand of positivity.
You tie my sadness in moonbird’s wings
And let it fly out of my earth.
Sitting amidst the emotional chiaroscuro
You play with soft words,
Paint new songs in your album,
Mimic the meowing of your honeyed kitten.
I sit back and wonder,
How do every time I witness sunrise
Whenever you let me walk deep
Into the core of your eyeballs.
And when I ask you the definition of life,
You unfold your slender arms
Like a Pegasus, and reply,
**“It’s about transforming from
One Avatar to another.”
this is for my friend Tulika, who helped me to restore the present chapters of my life.
Through the stormy desert
Your thirst staggered for days,
And ends up sipping
Fresh experiences as consolation.
An ocean of memories inside heart
Constantly combusts like wild flames,
Yet seems so peaceful
Like the rough skin of an extinct volcano.
You believed in my words, that,
One can’t grow larger than sun,
Or be more skillful than Orion,
Weaving luminosity over
The edge of eastern horizon.
But one can be the daisy in a vase
Who dreams every night of blooming
Like a star, with shimmering aura,
Writing fates of humans,
As if she can pick them, pluck them now,
From life, whenever she wishes.
We are all like her,
Craving for a ****** dream to live with.
And in the mirror of life,
Trying to reflect it time after time.
Dad and Mom both want me
To dress like they both dress.
If I don’t follow their rules
They think my life is a mess.
I understand that they don’t
Like the way I wear my hair
But, if haircuts are mentioned
In the Constitution, tell me where.

I’ll be a mullet-wearing hipster
As a dedication to yesterday
If ever a day is officially declared
Celebrating double-knit polyester.
But until that day comes, folks
I want you both to know
I don’t want to look like I am
Character from a television show.

I don’t mean to be picky here
But I have suffered the ridicule.
I was the only kid dressed up
Like a CPA in elementary school.
We’re not talking about me
Joining a gang of outlaw crooks.
I just don’t want to get beat up
Because of the way I look.

I’m not shaving ‘***** you’ in
The back of my shaved head.
Neither do I want to come
Dressed as a nerd instead.
It’s probably all about moderation
And less about modern style
But with your kind permission
I’d like to talk with you awhile.

Let’s come to some happy medium
Where you don’t think it’s a scam
That I want to enjoy my youth
And be the person I really am.
I do understand parental guidance
And am grateful that you are here.
But please let me get with the times
Before I prematurely age ten more years.
in the end
what’s foe
is friend

©2016janetaylor
silenced by the world

i may never speak again

oh but i will sing

©2016janetaylor
a senryu poem
erstwhile a halcyon extant universe incessantly ceaseless
cradled itself in hues of violet phosphorescence
laced with cobalt shimmering stars
perpetually whole it nonetheless
sought to know itself

encompassing all that is bubbling over in effervescent ebullience
intertwined with indescribable catastrophic splendor
it shattered into tens of millions of splinters
of eloquent efflorescent light
shining in the night

each splinter heretofore imbued with sempiternal felicity
began to conjure sumptuous dulcet elixirs
furtively seeking out savory emollients
to mollify the pique of separation
plummeting they fell

into monstrous competition seeking demesne they lost the purpose
of gaining awareness and intelligent consciousness
surreptitious estrangement overflowed
deluging them in excruciating agony
thus an epiphany was born

the carving of the beleaguered fragments inked with tremendous pain
created a transfiguration of splinters to crystals
hence enlightenment commenced as the gems
magnetized together constructing a world
where omnipotence shines

the ineffable beauty formed by the reintegration of crystals
far exceeds the original as they dazzle with universal light
bursting from diamonds etched in deep wisdom
flooding the firmament with kaleidoscopic
rainbow strobes cascading the sky

©2016janetaylor
eking out the ultimate gasp in my last breath of impulsion
i collapse without a touch of grace at race's end
how i made it i will never know
dazed and in bewilderment
i reminisce upon my journey

an aggregation of barricades assailed me
with iniquitous decadent delight
seeming to writhe in triumph at my possible demise
capitulating as it devoured and spewed me out the other side
i humbly reassembled fragments of my near annihilation

temporarily rehabilitated
i recommenced the toilsome climb
to the treasured peak atop the mount
when in would come the tempest with its furor
and render me asunder

mere exhaustion is not the word
for death experienced recurrently
ground to mulch and back again
screaming, pleading, surrendering
proved futile as i newly met the same demise

near incapacitation i miraculously emerged
and scraping pulled myself with broken heart and bones
scratching my way through the darkness
toppling at the pinnacle
to victory's end

with exhilaration it dawns on me
the long dark night is over
i passed the test to realize
it is not the finish line
but only the beginning

©2016janetaylor
 May 2016 Skipping Stones
fm
I use to want perfection
in my reflection,
and thought I was just
another correction
in a collection,
and wanted to be a part
of the selection
that obtained affection
for their complexion,
that passed the
inevitable inspection
without objection
and did not fear rejection,
because they knew
they were headed
in the right direction
of self resurrection,
but now I want to
be an art collection
that exudes a projection
of protection,
instead of false infection
and natural selection,
whether it has
an imperfection
or
not
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