Lost underneath the hood
she made sure
he stopped to ask for directions
then with map in hand
and strapped to the seismograph
she tremored into the land
of eternal sunshine

The female ****** is a rosebud
blossoming over the course of seconds.

Our organs were molded in the
image of clams and flowers.

God obviously
gave his blessing.

Her Preference
by Michael R. Burch

Not for her the pale incandescence of dreams,
the warm glow of imagination,
the hushed whispers of possibility,
or frail, blossoming hope.

No, she prefers the anguish and screams
of bitter condemnation,
the hissing of hostility,
damnation's rope.

Keywords/Tags: woman, female, preference, dreams, imagination, possibility, hope, anguish, screams, condemnation, hostility, damnation

She
Fakes a smile when in need for comfort
Wears confidence when afraid of the unknown
Hides when in need of attention

She
Sees the good in people
For people to see the good in her
The world is a good place to be part of
They said

She
Is fireworks in obscure minds
Gives as if the world was deprived
And waits for a reward
But this is a man’s world
And woman are underpaid

Because She Craved the Very Best
by Michael R. Burch

Because she craved the very best,
he took her East, he took her West;
he took her where there were no wars
and brought her bright bouquets of stars,
the blush and fragrances of roses,
the hush an evening sky imposes,
moonbeams pale and garlands rare,
and golden combs to match her hair,
a nightingale to sing all night,
white wings, to let her soul take flight ...

She stabbed him with a poisoned sting
and as he lay there dying,
she screamed, "I wanted everything!"
and started crying.

Keywords/Tags: Female, lover, crave, best, gifts, presents, offerings, unsatisfied, demanding, tears, betrayal, backstabbing

You first showed up when I was ten.
I knew who you were but I didn’t want to know you.
I’d read about you in books. Forbidden books.  
How could I explain to my mother that I already knew your name?
I expected you later and I hated you already.

You provided me with the key to a secret club
A place of shame and disgrace.
I wasn’t allowed to talk about you.
A pact of silence between members

Mother said you might make me feel unwell
That was an understatement.
Iron spikes drove through my insides
Steel bars wrapped around me
Spears ****** down my legs.
All I knew was pain
A white-hot, blank-space hurt filling every crevice of my body.

Do you remember that time on the climbing frame with friends?  
I should have been a carefree child but I was dragging a heavy, aching body across the bars.
Or that time I collapsed at school
Head down on the desk, my body could give no more
The school nurse accusing me of faking it.  Telling me you weren’t that bad.  A good friend, really.

Or how about the time you showed up at work.
Made your presence known to everyone
It was described as careless destruction of corporate property
Leaving me humiliated, wages docked to pay for the chair you destroyed.
My inability to control you, a professional failure.
And the other club members offered no sympathy.

You were my constant companion of misery
I didn’t dare attend that party, go on that trip, take that promotion…
You were always waiting around a corner.
And so I withdrew
It became just you and I.  As you wanted.
Defeated. You had won.

Twenty-two years, I suffered in your grip
Twenty-two years of screaming into pillows; body and mind dissolving into agony
But I found a way back.
Suppressed you with chemicals.  I finally discovered me without you.
The person I was supposed to be.

Ten years I have lived without you
Ten years of rebuilding my life, relationships and career.  
I never realised how much control you had
Until that time that I was free.  I emerged.
From a sea of despair. Head now above the deep darkness
I can breathe.

She chooses to live
a life of style ,
A life where her story
Will be told using stanza
Rhyme and conclude in verse.

A story which will be
 Written using metaphor and
Simile to illustrate her 
Personification as an elegant
beautiful creature

 She chooses to be poetic,
Ironically she was still prosaic
Every day of her life
Trying to fake it
 till she makes it

She wanted to take the Road that is less travel
The road that diverges
Into two different paths
She took the prosaic
But walk the poetic