the question mark curves that form at the apples of her cheeks could ****,
but she speaks in a voice like lilacs and smiles like springtime.
she possesses unparalleled wisdom for one so young,
and has a soul like an old maple tree.
she makes a home of herself for weary hearts to rest,
but knows not to let their burdens become her own;
prudent enough to understand the difficult art of letting go.
the perfect pearls that live behind the velvet of her mouth serve as lanterns
in the darkness every time she parts her lips.
she is a diamond among ashes, a doe among monsters.
she burns with righteous anger upon seeing others treated wrongly.
she breathes like fall a breeze and her presence is is a sea at peace.
she is as gentle as a lamb, but can be bolder than a lion - when she needs to.
if you're being stupid, she'll tell you, but she'll do it with love.
she has watched me make innumerable mistakes,
and learned what not to replicate, and i in turn have learned from her.
she gives me far more grace than i deserve.
she has arms like olive branches and extends them freely.
her spirit is unchanging and uncrushable.
the beat of her heart can be heard from miles away
and it shocks me that there is even room in her chest for it, given its incredible size.
she is a dove among crows, and she is still learning how to fly,
but her wings promise great heights to come.

- m.f.

~~~

~for Leandra from Alabama~  

hope is less a point,
more a sash,
a honorable stripe, a path,
a tightrope designed for slipping,
a struggling, indeterminate journey
requiring a self-granted passport

<|>

long ago, time ago,
when the plate of despair,
was passed round and round
my table unceasingly,
served always piping hot,
my unordered,
but can't be refused,
'main course'
~
yes, I took it,
some say,
thrived on despair,
as despair
symbiotically
thrived on me
~
my unfair share
some say,
was given more
than deserved,
so what,
you took it and cried out
so what
~
so for
forty years wandered in
an unemotional desert of distress,
from which escape
to hope
was deemed,
inhumanly impossible
~
now in my descending, trajectory finale,
years post the wastage, the waste of ages
that sustained, that pain,
sent away, postage prepaid,
no return address
~
once more,
I accidentally taste
the cries of
les enfants terrible,
here @ HP,
the babies speaking so easy of

the utter aching of the young

for it is in plain view,
in almost every other poem here stored
~

I thought:

no mas, no more,
I ne'er, can't,
stop, nay, even slight stop, stoop,
to read and bear
these slights, these desperations so loud,
that remind me too well
of my days of unwellness
~
but one, ******,
renders me, strips me asunder,
drags me down under,
compulsed to respond,
so I tender now
to whomever can read
through mine eyes,
hard bought wisdom of seven plus decades
~
before you can believe in hope,
and its prophecies,
know this:

hope is less a point,
more a sash,
a honorable stripe, a path,
a tightrope designed for slipping,
a struggling, indeterminate journey
requiring a self-granted passport
~
but with the understanding that this
hopeful trip is
itinerary, devoid,
for final destination,
in advance, already well known,

for from the very beginning,
the self-same place you began,
a circuitous, lapping course of
expectorating unexpected high speed crashes,
for the ****** of self voyaging
upon the sea war-waters of
self-examination
is both
infinite and finite,
this traveling travail,
this trip is the work
forever in process
~
Hope
is your only cargo that time cannot decay, spoil,
even under twenty fathoms of brine,
cannot be refused,
must be transported
~
you gotta believe in
yourself,
you just gotta,
accept that the mere breathe of thought,
confirms the unique, unbelievable spark
the worth of you,
that source code unique,
born and then borne within,
to find your purpose,
only recognizable by you,
its place holder
~
dig as deep as necessary,
but no quitting, till you are smoking
hot, bonfired, cause that's how you can knowingly
know you've grasped that you are,
hopefully
just that much closer to being a
mission accomplished
~
hear you say,
so easy to say
so hard to do,
in brief,
there is no relief
~
let's walk together,
amidst woods and shaded country lanes,
grasp arms in the certain serenity,
of my poet's nook,
sit beside me,
young ones
~
leave your castle, cross the dry moat
so assiduously you built,
dug out from daily anguish, crapped-on dirt piles
~
come listen with me to
Bach's Air Sarabande,
you know it, though you think not,
journey upon the music
to the places so so patient waiting within,
where soaring, is the only option,
calm reflection, the only language
~
come let us reason together,
help you to deduce,
process the conclusion inevitable,
your very aching implies
your residual
crushed but uncrushable belief,
in relief,
in the inevitability of
hope
for you are worthy
~


July 11 ~ 22, 2015
posted at last, on
Sept.20, 2017

He is the most magically unmatched treasure
That makes my mouth water
That makes me yearn to search
Into the deepest depths
Of his incomparable world

Marvel at his mad dope swagger
His firm, masculine structure
Feel his super strong hotness
Coursing through my system
Enfold me in his warm ardent arms

Make me sparkle like a considerable irresistible charm
Make me feel the unrivaled mind-blowing power
Of his lightning love flow
Through my heart and soul
Float my boat, stroke me all over

Put me in a state of disorientation
The more his hands move all over me
Rest my head against his hella shredded pecs
Run my fingers up and down his incredibly **** biceps
As his moist loving lips lock with mine

Make my world soar to the heavens and above
Make me fall head over heels in love
With his desirable powerful features
Scan every inch of his succulent skin
His ******* seductive muscles

Such an automatic showstopping hottie
I love the way he smells and compels my vessel
Got me so exhilarated and inebriated
Craving to feel his ****** stamina
Feel me, peel me, eat me up like a mouth-watering meal
Like oven-baked potato cakes

Embrace me, enamor me, savor me forever and a day
Make my gayness sway the more I gaze
At his uncrushable gangbuster robustness
Caught up in his intense sensual heat
Of hypnotic supercharged erotica