Roses spices and onions skins off
Richie ride me back home
there's nowhere to hide from your love.
~~~~~
I thought I could find a place not to think of you for one day, so I went to the kitchen for a soup there was nothing to eat but pasta sauce and there you were
in front of me up in the spices
I had to use in place of meat on bone for boiling a soup.

Heating up battled water added cento tomato and the sauce
all kinds of spices; parsely real sea salts garlic pepper a pinch of taco spice wild cilantro, a garlic squized and cloves
(no basil)
cayene pepper did the magic
lemon juice added the final punch for my Mexican soup;
added a few granes bazmati rice found, added a white onion slice and blessed as I felt
"I cried me a river for you" and
The White Cliffs of Dover
songs came to mind to console
me as I broke shrinking down
the stinking onion was me
and noone to share my soup
I turned stove top off to go
wipe face off and
entering the bedroom I tripped
knees on the red floor unconsolable crying.

Yes the room was filled with
roses wild and roses red!
and again you made my day.
I felt so blessed to have
held so many of your treasures
in arms to see my hands half full with roses
and half full with bittersweet spices beheld.
Upon my bed a heart was carved
inscribed in tiny little
red rose buds and purple hearts
in your words "I love you"

I craweled to reach the bed careful not to disturb the million roses nor bleed feet with their thurns as they layed artisticly everywhere room full of roses,
I wept there caressed by your roses spices and songs
hugged all night long.
by insomnia bug

Oh please my darling Old Richie "ride me back home."
there's nowhere to hide
from your love.
~~~~~~~~~
Karijinbba-03/2020.
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Distant thunders of  wars threaten
my peaceful
landscape of sleep,
in bed I twist and turn
shocked by the cries of
people getting killed for
reasons hidden or unknown;
when lives get complex
like tangled knotted  strings,
for death to snap it
hardly needs  any reason.

Bombs explode and light
a wild fire of destructions,
creating an illusion, that
it's just a happy fire works.
Misery has it's reign everywhere;
women  are unconsolable in grief,
men are  in moral turmoil.

Waking up I realize,
nightmares come in waves
soaking up waking hours with remorse
in our sad sordid times.
Bad dreams at night are merciful
as one is insulated from
being a nervous wreck.
how could one look away
when one is  bleeding from
the  eyes like a martyr?

Mothers are wailing,
fathers go missing, all of a sudden
children are made orphans
with no place to call their own.
Nobody seems to be concerned;
no one  any more is
the keeper of one's own
brothers and sisters.

The world collects statistics
and explanations dutifully,
reports are written
and stalked in shelves;
all hyperbole, lies and nonsense
signifying nothing,
in a wold broiled as
love had gone missing.

In this silent  night, smelling blood
of sacrificial lambs,
a  pale moon hangs low
like  human conscience;
  silent witness or accomplice?
We stand here in the shadows confused;
"Aren't we trudging back to darkness?"

Satin petals encased
her heart's desolated pieces
from love unlaced
a fragrance of forlorn releases
 
Her tears trickle down
caress unconsolable hands
red eyes begin to drown
as her head lands
 
Onto a bed draped
with thorns of the foregone 
though she escaped
her heart has yet to press on
 
Until she has healed 
her heart breaks through
she remains concealed 
a rose so blue.