Creeping up the steps of the building,
She holds her breath.
The building stares at her with massive, polished eyes,
Eyes of judgement,
Daring her to enter it's realm of formality,
It's realm of order and conduct.
She holds her breath.
A chill passes through her when she sees the others.
Dressed to impress,
Traveling in packs, like wolves of the wild.
And completely unaware of everything.
They have attended a private performance,
Put on by the people,
They immerse themselves with, surround themselves with.
She holds her breath.
The walls beckon her in, soak her in.
And she blends into them like a chameleon.
Invisible.
She holds her breath.
Traveling soundlessly, with soft footsteps that don't echo along the hallow halls,
Making her way to her destination,
She holds her breath.
The door moans as it opens to reveal what lays behind.
Disappointment, dismay, disillusions,
Dread.
She holds her breath.

Red corals and blue algae,
Wet sadnesses and swimming love
Need their own light.

Lust got hold of me
the other day.
Grabbed me by the tongue and the ear,
then moved on down.
It’s not as elegant as love,
perhaps, but
sometimes lust just
consumes me
and completely blows
my mind. And yes,
I end up teetering on the edge of
lewdness, which is a very intense place
on which to teeter. In fact,
I've found that a bit of unbridled lust
is a wonderful prelude to love,
and I don’t feel guilty in the slightest
about teetering while being unbridled.
You can always bridle yourself up later.
So there!

Today, I’m sharpening arrows
to aim them at
politicians with snouts in the trough,
clerics who preach peace for themselves
but hatred about others,
academics who promote freedom of speech
but run a Gulag Archipelago
for those who don’t follow their own ideas
or buy their textbooks,
hypocrites everywhere,
celebrities in general,
people who don’t smile,
people who aren’t nice,
(why are they here?)
fanatics, tyrants and power mongers,
(there are a humungous lot of these)
boring people,
(they wouldn’t be boring
if they could just try to engage a little more)
and those who block supermarket isles
with their trolleys while they stop and gossip.
I’d really like to put a few arrows in their butts
to puncture their pretensions and hear
the subsequent hiss of preciousness
unless they sincerely promise
to be more considerate
and try to love a whole lot more.
Now. I don't insist they have to love prodigiously,
but I reckon they could lighten the **** up
just a little, and try to laugh more frequently.
That's all.

Mike T Minehan

The steady heartbeat of the wave
The sudden explosion against the rocks
The rough, sinking sand of my past
Then the smooth, calming sand of us
The sun hovering on the horizon
The silent stars full of lust
The moon glistening our reflection
The sweet echo of what is love

In USA,
There is a presidential election fight,
Well, everything seems to be alright,
It might be alright, everything seems tight,
Sometimes, I dream of a red sky,
The earth is cracking,
I'm slowly dancing
On your sweet love floor.

Turkey
Sends bombs for free into Syria, on the other side,
Well, it seems that nothing is more important than having pride,
When Syrians in Turkey need to hide,
I've never dreamt of a sky so red,
The earth is cracking,
I'm slowly dancing
On your sweet love floor.

The Greeks
Don't want to sell to Canadian consumers their gold,
Well, it seems that in Canada it is very cold,
Why is it so cold in Canada all the time and the gold isn't sold?
I really dreamed of a huge red sun,
The earth is cracking,
I'm slowly dancing
On your sweet love floor.

The world
Is waiting for a new shift of magnetic poles,
But, instead of this, earth makes gigantic craters called sinkholes,
Smart money makers lose the remote controls,
I really had a multicolored dream,
The earth is cracking,
I'm slowly dancing
On your sweet love floor.

Much more protesters
Want to change their lives and their presidents.
To feed their kids, they work 12 hours per day for a few cents,
It's something to think about, when life has no sense.
I dreamed of a world having a little pink,
The earth is cracking,
I'm slowly dancing
On your sweet love floor.

i've been building sentences
for you, because there are
too many words to keep them
stagnant and docile.

oh, words on melancholy smiles,
chipped porcelain and
sunlight dappled through your hair
like the sun herself had
kissed the crown of your head.

i've been writing you letters
inside of my head. little golden
pinpricks of love
seeping through my cells
because my body cannot hold
the very idea of loving you.

in those moments, i am liminal,
held tight by the arch of your spine,
the pads of your fingers,
the way that you held my name
in your mouth before
it rolled off of your tongue and
the smell of your skin
in a dark room, with only
the moon watching us
woefully, sweetly.

words like saccharine and
your name, slow like honey,
taste sweet enough
to make me cry.

i've been stuck on the idea
of loving you, loving me
and wringing my hands
over bad luck, mon petite chou.

and still, you close your eyes,
clasp your hands over your ears
and brush off my words like
dust or snowflakes or
unrequited love.