WHITE WITCHES IN THE WIND

Up the dark and barricaded staircase
with a monitor well focused between their legs
they came to digest an ego
caress ten long fingers flaming at the tips

Imbibe bright juice
heal a chequered heart
mount the focused quartz
don the weathered leather

As African hero’s of the past stare
Through windows draped in white chiffon

They smooth peppercorn hair
in ecstasies of bliss as delicate oil
flare their nostrils, ignite their liver
while township youth play dice upstairs

Modelling their future on one man alone
as jazz tunes are whistled from corners
the piano remains covered in velvet
with a white knight trying some stunts

And a wizard talks tales of Mecca
then prays on centre stage

They twist locks and slit bars
violet suns stream in
all is touched with gold as he glances
at their toes, skirmishes their
******* in figures of eight

On a path to the beyond
White witches in the wind

©GhairoDanielsPoetry2003

evolution or
creation or a
possible third choice

Cracked SOLES extorted
because third worlds must cry
YOURS are rubberized

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, October 23:>

bribed the day light to catch me
to welcome the dark night quickly
careful heels
afraid would sting would peel
to the rough ground's coldness
wore this covering black dress
walked on a damaged fate
all in the name of an elegant slate
silent walls no comment
a posture to the moon sent

the perfect hair scattered
my own self compliments flattered
alone for the mirror to be impressed
smiled and the reflection takes a guess
waved for the air
to feel attention somewhere
on that eye
smudged ink lines
vanilla hangs in the atmosphere
memories do nothing to fear

                                                           ­         --------ravenfeels

The radio in my mouth is broken
The tuner slides from the channel
It's set
And I'm forced to listen
To others words
In rhythms I hate

The radio in my mouth is broken
The sound is full of noise
And its volume jumps
At the worst times
When I can't speak
Over it

The radio in my mouth is broken
The power button is difficult
And dramatic
It fails in good company
When I need it most
And surges to life
Late at night

So I listen to the songs it plays
To no one but myself
Words and melodies
Wriggle through clenched teeth
While I stare at the ceiling

The radio in my mouth is broken
So I look at others
And they at me
As we listen
Together
To what it plays

you point out the moon

but your fingers are begemmed

i don’t notice it

Third of five
A gemini
When she flies we soar
Her noise can floor
Echoed in our ears
Remembering laughter brought
A powerful injection of positive vibes that elevates temporary state

The scales etched from one to ten
A bell of Tibet
She cares to share so extra
Between be relatively unseen
Conceded when she dips
her time is needed
Worthy as a sister of mercy