Bubbles gone brighter,
didn't know you could
delight me so.
I won't be pulling the plug
because all I've got
is this indescribable tug
that seems to go and grow.
Your energy is iridescent
sparking off your gangly frame
like cable cars rubbing
against the corbel train.
Mightier than all
I could ever contemplate.
Your rhythm to my rhyming
is a taste I can't complain
and all I want
is to see you writhing
hot and bothered
blushing pink
stark naked
fully pining
on my silver platter plate.
So awakens your arousal
eyes drenched black
by hungry pupils
I want your desires
to match my own in strength
until it seems you've flipped
the switch
and grasped the flight of fate.

Should wedding bells chime in a dream you have, I pray the man,   miming affection     near the altar is not me. I am ragamuffin; a butcher with no cleaver     in his shadow,
instead a bouquet: Clenched in my silhouetted hand flowers turn into torch. I burn     as a filament in a bulb half-expired. I have smoked through my pocket money    in order
to scatter cremated angels from my throat.    I am cloaked by anguish      my grief    poorly sheathed   a tattered nerve. I have only learned        how to praise darkness.

Light is painful as it shimmers against frost: grass gleams in steady growth    discolored
scars healing. Here I am letting out a blood-letter addressed to you, wondering    if I send   a snip     of my own vein will it remind you how     one missing piece    from a whole            can forfeit the future. All any future is:      a motion into the next moment,  its pending indecision none can envision.      We can’t help but revise malleable pasts. Memories flux     rippling water and enough light changes it’s refraction with each new  ripple.        I cannot be a lover if love is not static    humming at least from its hymnal.  

I   write this letter in calligraphy mourning,    like most poets do – rending heart  rendering  this broken universe – with bone and feathered quill. This feather is from my wing, the pair fallible love clipped         the first chance you took to kiss my darkness.

I’m charting learning a path to winter in an opposite sky:
one only I can fly.

Winged Fairies of iridescence
Shining brilliance, reflecting rainbows
Upon this Concrete Jungle
How do they heal the tiniest oasis?
How do they find the life in the dust?
Their fluttering & kisses
Are like promises to the heart
A lift then a lurch
To see such fragile beauty
Struggling against the Hot Metal Beasts
Oh, so bent on destruction
These tiny doctors heal the world
And spread such beauty, warmth & cheer
To our cold, sick, broken hearts
A pierce of light in all this darkness
Keepers of the Light
Keepers of the Flame
Kissing health & joy
To that which is ashen and dead
Like magic, blossoms burst
In searing explosions; like fireworks
A silent symphony of color
Oh, sweet treasures from the sky
Riders of the wind
A flap, a beat of tiny wings-
Angels come in all sizes
Messengers, healers of light & love
A true joy to the heart
A flame in the Night.

*©Lesley Wood

Laid waste the beauty of ancient sites
Where wisdom laments its ancient demise.
The human spirit had once taken flight
Out of dark mists and out of disguise.

Paradise found just beyond their reach.
Friendship feigned as in unwitting Troy.
Pygmalion's ideal crumbled within the breech.
Pure knowledge strangled by treacherous ploy.

Yet wisdom still beckons beneath this frost.
Rumblings felt faintly in purer souls.?
Vowed in blood to regain paradise lost.
Worlds sacrificed for one small foothold.

Beauty from ashes of ancient sites.
In spirit in heart once again taking flight.

You have always dreamed of aviation,
cellophane wings glued to your heartstrings--
my marionette lover of hopes hanging high
enough to abolish the air from heavy lungs.

I watch your cavern chest rise but never fall,
tsunami tides engraved permanently airborne,
intertwining hands with time as suspension
silences destruction.

Time does not exist here--only periwinkle
veins illuminated by morning light,
wispy eyelashes beginning their ascension.

You are all light, and altitude, and grace.

I am grounded, tethered to comfort, but
the curvature of your spine breathes sanctuary.
Your shoulders-- broad, significant--
as if to fingerpaint the alpines you will ascend
once the wrath of gravity is conquered.

When your parachute soul finally gathers
enough strength to pilot the destined flight,
I hope you remember to save
a window seat for my heart.

Making your own choice
With something you're scared to do
Is learning to fly

Looking over a ledge
You're nervous, then you're scared once
You start to fall down

Then once you take off
Your breath catches, and you start
To soar in your mind

And for all your fear
Knowing that you've made your choice
Flies over anxiety

An eye for an eye,
A heart for a heart.
You stole mine, so I went for yours
But found no place to start.
For where a heart should surely be,
A sign was in its place
(I guess it's common courtesy),
And this is what it states:

"I took my heart to give to you
To show I love you so,
But that same love grew wings and flew,
And where it is, I do not know!
I've taken yours to keep it safe until it finally lands.
Until then, I'll remember our last embrace and dream of your romance."

I hope your heart does soon return, and then to mine does bind --
For one heart without another is such a pitiful thing to find.

i sold my soul to tomorrow
and it told me i could fly.

In the dark I sat perched on his chest
like a house cat that craved attention

Purring soft sounds into the night
as the neighborhood around stirred in silence

I curled up into a ball and tucked my paws
under my chin to rest for the night

yet the domestic cat must still have enemies
that they join the mice in running from

the dogs barked and I felt the hair on my neck
come to a standing position

Hiding places seemed scarce as i darted around
the room desperate for high ground as they neared

my nose alerted me that they were close-
outside the bedroom door I heard them growl with hunger

a door of such no match for the beasts of the night
and with vulnerability i watched them bound towards me

teeth bared, claws ready,  alarm in my chest
i could feel their breathe on my face

and with panic i awoke to find not a cat nor a dog
but a boy who thought he was a man

i was perched on his chest like a lazy house cat
resting in the sun who held not one single worry

As i looked around the room no danger was ever present
but one can only be naive once

this time i would be ready with a twitch of a hand
to claw my way out of danger
with any foe who should come for me