Mood

Mood like a leaf,

a falling leaf beautiful and dead.

I appreciate normalcy because it’s gone.

Quickly my neurons shudder,

power plants going cold.

Please someone find a rake,

pull me together.

Light a candle so I can see my way out of this darkness.

Global Warming

Global Warming

 

Beneath a polar pink sky,

white animal seeks ice.

 

Ice is life.

 

Southward,

the children of the Earth

row their rafters and doors,

looking for the beach.

Always now the beach moves,

Eats,

bulges.

 

A patch of ice so blue as to hold heaven

shrinks under the gaze of a judgmental Son.

 

Father and Daughter

Religion and faith

are best friends,

are enemies.

The law is a locket with His picture and

my neighbor’s picture inside.

I build cathedrals from beads and bubble gum.

I am a girl safe

in her Father’s arms,

dressed in silk and velvet,

diamonds at my throat.

He covers my war-torn wrists

in rubies.

 

The Art of the Body

Bodies so surreal

so intricately designed.

I adore bodies –

from the spare perfection of

thin bodies –

so small as to break at a harsh gaze,

to big, bountiful bodies with rolls and curves

everywhere all the time

I am consumed by the art of the body,

the elegant thin arm outstretched,

the belly a pillow to rest on.

Necks like flower stems and tree trunks –

hair brilliant, glossy petals.

 

Neon Days

Simple lemons, basic limes

on the counter, light scented.

The citrus emotion of neon days

when work is a way to pass the time

and the pool begs for you in the backyard.

The evening waits to chat on the back patio,

warm sunset hues making your lemonade sweat.

Your skin tingles to the song of crickets,

your torches burning Citronella to keep

watchful mosquitos at bay.

Your skin feeling so exotic,

so free being so bare.

And even the simple fruit

freshening your kitchen and your drinks

know these are the best days of life.

Enter

The hot tub is a cauldron of desire.

You slake my thirst for you in the dark

while the neighbors burn in their beds.

The Saturday thrill and Sunday chill

of you sliding my bikini bottoms off,

undoing my top

makes a furious steam.

Enter.

You own this place.