it's so perfect.
so divine.
inside she finds
that safe place and
like
a marble is blue
like a gesture
is small
like yeast must rise-
like the cat's eye,
paw at you.
because
as the cat waits
with the sunbeam she plays.
the tea
and the teacup-
exquisitely she waits.
she waits.
empty she will.
so
deny
still
exquisitely
majestically  
instinctively she waits.
on her own bone china
pretty little fragile
thing
on her own
she waits,
exquisitely she waits.


sahn
12/4/14

A waiting doll
in your waiting corner
where you left me to love me later.
Your jointed, painted playmate
stilled,
eyes wide and thrilled
where you left for solace someday.
I am timepiece.
mantel placed with Christmas lace?
I am mark the date
your ticking tock tock knock
three chime movement, seconds flat
chiseling out time to spend
Am i your singing cherub child?
Red faced ruddy,
trilling and wild
Am i your avec la voix des fleurs?
a note that waits here on all fours
patient to be heard
to sing in lazy ear someday?
waiting willing wanton woman
serving sarcasm
and delivering indifference
to the audience that's left behind
two cents to the dollar now
and the floors electric with the sales
of mighty stocks and mighty bales
and two cooper, two
is what i gave you.
for the love of a girl
in disgrace of her moral path
shall you advance her
or will she be placed below.
two pennys two.
between her and i.
avec la voix
avec,
la voix.


sahn shannon april alice 11/24/2014
sahn 11/24/2014

come to me.
to the floor where i kneel
in front of you.
follow me- pay attention close
and bend.
your will.
your beliefs,
your promises.
your boundaries.
your comfort.
follow me with your stare as i slither back above the floor.
and crawl over
your expectations
your judgments
your rehearsed words
dripping like drool from a baby's lip.
delight, devine
as i slide off this good girl's skin
contain your
greed
disbelief
desire while i
take you up mountains in your mind, lover.
i raise you from the center of the sky.
while i  blind you with lust
'till you feel silken places inside-
so fragile they will tear
ill bring the goblet to your mouth sir-
with the richest ruby reds slither down your throat as if it were alive.
oh yes, we will climb,
feel the mount behind us holding us up... wind up so high must be stealing our breath
I will give you touch, lover.
the kind you never found in all your searches.
the kind the does the touching with it's shadow not it's skin
and the shadow dances to tickle in the most promising of places.
yes ill give you whispers up here-bounce them around
like a helium star
slowly whisper here, bouncing, slowly whisper there.
rake what used to be my fingers....
now though they are sticks from the forest bound together to
glide through your silky hair and leave their beautiful pine scent.
come to me, and share old magic
just a baby of the woods-
lay you on a bed of branches
cold leaves, borough in your naked skin...
bring to me now your empty pallet
and fill my sorrow with your fight.



sahn.  
11/23/2018

if i give to you a universe,
you said to me this morning-
what would you fill it with?
a blank universe,
you coaxed me this morning-
tell me what i'd see.
i said, unwillingly at first-
i would not take your universe
not your gift to give...not your stars.
i would not take your universe
if you gave it on
bended knee.
-but if i had a universe,
a blank universe i'd fill it
with ecstasy storms
and kissing maids romping
with bright hued braids twirling
and child's first prayer that electrifies grass blades
and butterscotch ice ponds
and fields of wildflowers
and books lining roadways and
words raining sideways-
with
trains running backwards and
time moving slowly
with music for dinner and
dancing for sadness
with
lovers and mothers
and
magic
and
you.
perhaps i said,
as i rolled close in the sheets
i'd just fill it with you and i-
and i would love you when the sun
did shine
and when the sun
did not.
and i would love you when you closed your eyes
and i would love you as you wept.
love you as you walked
toes tickling my ground and sand
and i would love you when you sneezed
and as you sang
        and as you aged.
and i would love you
sleep
to
sleep-
my tiny universe to keep.



sahn
11/19/2014

I wear a mask
so nobody will see
what lies behind
my eyes.

I live in a semblance of
normality,
but reality plays tricks,
pretence is the lie I live.

My ever changing facade
reveals what I want the world
to see
to understand.

But it’s not me.

Precious few know me,
or see me in all my
weakness,
because I hide
that which would frighten.

It’s easier to exist
in a world where expectations
are met,
and I can be the man
they want me to be.

So here I am.
I look just like you.
Just please don’t try
to remove my mask.

I have climbed 300 steps
and sat beside the butchers pets.
I have etched in marble stone
and rose in blankets made of bones.
I have danced with withered ******
and laughed with sinning pirate bores
I have taken flights of mind
marched in armies of mankind.
I have burned the church yard down
danced on every hot red mound
and dug out wells with pails of red
and to the children gave ****** bread.
I watched the sea swell with delight
Gave hope to those with endless night
I grieve by every paupers grave
like lovers tears for the newly saved.
I have sold off squares of skies
to melt them off in poisoned pies.
I have squander endless gold
from rich men's purse that I've cajoled
And I will drink my whiskey straight
and make a list of what I hate.
I will jump off areoplanes
crashing through cathedral panes
And I will topple endless trees
upset the nest of surly bees.
And if you don't contain my spill
keep your promise in good will
For I am simply lost at sea
waiting that you come for me.
For I am simply biding time
waiting for that love of mine.*

sahn 9/9/2014

I saw a man who was buying time
with the last of his pennies in a threadbare coat.
He whispered to me on the train that we caught
that a love that will waste, is one caught in one's throat.


sahn 11/9/14

There is funeral going on,
hush for the death.
quiet for the mourning,
the dead demand respect.
There is a death and I grieve you
so pity on me and silence, I beg.
let me tell you how I mourn you
I yearn back our laughs in synchronized pops of noise
one tinkling
on bellowing with breathe.
I am rage, full of bitter
that I must grieve your hand
as I know that hand so well!
That hand held mine and so
It must be that it were mine so
Naturally
I RAGE for the loss of my hand as well.
Quiet. Stillness
There is a procession
See? We were happy once
Perhaps it wasn't us that died. Perhaps is was contented's demise
and we are still an ember of life and I am at the wrong funeral
because we are still flickering a bit
...just a bit.
it's all you need to start a fire a spark of yellow will do.
I see red when I look and see your blue cornfield eyes
I see yellow in the fuzzy field of your hair.
Shh.. they are kneeling.
Shhh
Something has passed on but it's not us? Right? This is not final walk?
There is hope... I showed it to you! Hope, we've just taken a wrong turn
you and I
This is not our funeral
My hand doesn't grieve.
My lips do whisper respect.
Shhh. This is a funeral. Respect for the death.


sahn
11/2/14

I sat under a paper umbrella of the reddest hue autumn
and like an apple
I waited for you to pick me ripe
bite, smell my neck
and remember.
I sat on bench of grey weather boards
waiting to be thrown down upon them-
wanting to be pinned down upon them.
Feet on a rug of discarded
leaves, just like me.
discarded but beautiful.
still just a season long
season woman,
can you love me winter long?
Ill meet you on the snowy bench.
white puffs of apologises will float from my mouth.
my toes will shake and the fence we loved for being red
we'll love for being white.
Red will now slither to my ears and you will say things I can't hear.
And the stars will paint the sky too dark so we
can see that winter sparkles.
Spring is full of other lovers, this bench-
lovers that are not you and I.
And the playground is full of candy wrappers and mothers sneakers.
The trees are majestically green stretching and yawning and showing off.
The children bouncing, whining, crying,  finding.
Spring is full of lovers but not us
so she gives my heart to summer
and glass doesn't melt so the places where I like to feel your sweat
are the places where they like to touch my body.
summer makes us reckless and the bench, our bench is being held together by the squirrels claws and the sparrows talons... they wait for us to scatter.
hot you kiss my dampness, damper.
hot you kiss my pain and sorrow. boiling all the past good voyage.
our fence has lost some posts as,
the children love to climb and kick
it will hold on, still.
but it won't hold-out and won't hold-in which is what fences are meant to do.
at least they should... they should choose.
Autumn, yes it's autumn ours. We are autumn lovers
with leaves of the book skittering beneath the empty slide.
We are autumn, smell like the burning leaves of who we were.
Smelling like the fresh cut wood, ready to have her rings counted
Autumn lover, hold my hand and tell me you are afraid.
Autumn lover, holding color golden like a circle round.
Hurry, before she blows me past the red fence,
Hurry before our secrets get caught by the wind and dance around the playground.
Hurry Autumn lover,
Hurry to remember that you loved me, once.*

Shannon April Alice
11/2/14

It is finished.

A journey of sharing
is over.
I do not know how
to deal with this.

From the excitement of early morn,
being prompted to write,
to the wonderment of late evening,
seeing how many actually read
my work.

It is finished.

A truly heady experience,
emotions ran rampant
for 31 days.

I gave you my heart
on a readable platter,
my soul was visible
to all who cared to see it.

It is finished.

Never have I written
so much poetry,
rarely have I had
such a feeling of
accomplishment.

I am a blessed man
to have met
so many
great poets,
great writers
better people.

It is finished.

Time to breathe,
time to relax.
For in the big scheme of things,
it has just begun.