The bonding forge of palm on palm
Breaks my shield, dissolves my calm;
Your hands trace earthquakes down my spine,
Awakening every nerve of mine.

You ignite my skin with a lightning flash,
Electric tremors pulse and pass,
Each fingertip becomes a molten brand
That sears desire across my land.

When lips meet, our worlds collapse
Passion fractures these synaptic maps;
Your embrace, a crushing tidal force,
Leaves my gravity without a course.

Magnetic fever pulls us close,
As currents crush and silence prose.
Each brush of skin sends shockwaves deep,
Where primal energy coils and leaps.

Heated fusion erodes the mantle,
Boundaries burn and souls entangle,
Your touch conquers my universe
Intent with the need to be immersed.

©️Lizzie Bevis

the thought seizes me awake,
after a heart powered hour of sleep,
rise in silent reverie, nary a peep,
though my heart rate breeeches
150 miles per hour, each beat

yesterday wrote of the eloquent
sensibility of simplicity, its natural
native appeal, and when I think of
things that world needs most urgently
which is, for poets a de rigeur activity,
fyi, that more common than uncommon,
sobelieve in my expertise,
we need badly, another Hobbit movie pretty please!

we need rallying after the tallying,
we need fellowship among the species,
a crossover inclusive of the animal kingdom,
require fearless leaders who value selflessness
over personal gain,
less optimism rhetorical,
and some plain honesty to give the world
the equity of equality,
what it wonts,
and not what pro poli’s
tell you think
which slogans sell…well


whent to the corner store,
bot all kinds of fall
colors of berries and tiny flowers,
went all-in unreasonable
on clot colossus seasonal,,
oranges, yellows and quiet quilts of
hardy little greens,
bread, OJ, larger uncaged eggs
a-dozing,
and though my impossible orders all fulfilled, the boss,?her list defeated,
by crossing off
my abbreviated illegibility scribbling,,
it was still insufficient for missing was this:

what the world needs a fresh Hobbit triumphal,
where self~sacrifice always come first, and duty rightly prevails, over evil,
always a close call,
and the chill of fall,
the dint of wint-
er
is warmed away by
love,  justice for all,
besting every close call,
and for a replay of the
World Series where them
Yankee underdogs emerge
victorious and the city lifts
its chin, and says OK to the
new day, week, and that
extra hour of…mmm…
daylight
sleep

call me naive,
it is an honorific
terrific,
great fully
accepted

Friday’s Fumble Crumble:
writ/wrote /needs/work

the WR juggernaut,
of write/writ/ wrote
and associated WoRdy derivatives,
a vast complex,
the crossover
from notion to lively potion,
the ****** of completion;
a tricky *******,
1st an  enticement, inevitably a
first unsatisfactory shot,
the dispiriting recognition
that what you got ain’t good…

a dissolution of resolution,
the look back~try again,
picking off the fleshy morsels
from the Valley of Bones,
that demands a really funereal
and t. swift
sea burial,
thus energized by seawater ,
or the slapping (s)hit from *****+ dirt

comes re~energy, a burst of a covert  coverup,
then comes a gleam,
the light of a beam in the seams
of your fingertips,
a repeating  secretion of ideas that refuse
to give in to a ceremony of deletion,
a prescrip for a sad~glad emotive repast,
a look back,
longing glance, but with a new hope of
rejiggering, that sticky secretion ‘pon
dying, yet enervating,
dancing fingertips,
spewing gobs so fast of wordy worthy
battered batter,
throwing in some Heath bar crumble,
soon enuf the oven is cooking!
baking and the smoking aroma of
over~heated sheets of paper
of soon to be crisply delivering cookies extraordinaire,
but alas,
‘twas all in the mind and is unjustly
a recipe, for ashes of a burnt dreams

and the tenses clench/de clench
when the writ is wrote,
but never,
not ever
is it ever just rote…

@nd that’s what ya get when you witty-gritty-wrote
@

2:06am
7/26/2024