Fear

A torrential mindfuck When it takes hold You struggle to Plant your feet back Firmly on the ground You're in it The trenches Gripping at sanity Clawing to get peace Forgetting the grace in your heart Goodness evades you Dread fills your belly And the only relief is Screaming into a towel on the tile Bathroom floor

Stripped

Darkness pulling me in I succumbed to temptation Buried Deep within me The voice inside my head whispered "Slow down" Fantasies silenced it Giving into your experienced hands Letting you feast upon Willing, greedy skin Ravaging it with Tormented delight A shared need so great I saw it Reflected in your eyes Until a clock struck The hour of reality I felt my Tender heart Ache Bruised Shattered I took a ragged deep breath and looked for the light

Craving

It's more than fingers curling over bedsheets and dilated eyes; Hands held together over head, Liquid gushing between the thighs. Air thick with desire, quickened breaths compete; how will he leave his mark on her, how does she tame this heat? It starts off slow, but always grows; a craving that's so primal, she's barely left composed. Her eyes meet his and then he smiles; she revels in pleasing him, there's nothing more worthwhile.

Perfect Fit

my small hands yearn for yours to grasp them squeeze them protect them when i look down and up again your eyes meet mine you smile ear to ear eyes twinkling soul shining take them to your lips my heart's an olympian doing triple somersaults and we walk on

Crumbling

Stealing glances at the clock I waited impatiently Typed impersonally Made to do lists mentally Then the telltale hour hit and breathing came unsteadily Tentative fingers dialed The unknown beckoned and beguiled Ringing and ringing and ringing My sinking heart awaited trial Until a voice on the other end Quietly confirmed a fear most vile Sending me falling onto my knees and wondering if life would ever again be worthwhile

Battleground

Each morning when the alarm clock rings, she whispers a prayer and hopes He brings...an end to the war she’s waging. Every single day. The enemy may surprise you; Evil works hard to find a way. To crush a positive spirit, dim the light inside. Cruel words, deceit and mockery are now weapons to strip her pride. Belittled, manipulated, attacked...such ruthless spite could knock anyone off their path. But though her soul is deeply bruised, the strength within her can’t be diffused. With a graceful heart and spark so bright, integrity is her shield to win this fight.

Disenchanted

It was impossible not to let my guard down when such earnest words escaped your lips. Caressing the edges of my face, lifting the hair from my neck, they made their way in through my receptive ears. Tentative, but twinkling with hopefulness. They began to chisel at the stone wall around my skeptical heart. But just as I started to believe them, their value began to change. Hopefulness turned to disrespect and hid behind a mask of silence. The common bond we quickly formed was cast away like pirates. Any honesty in those words will always remain a question. The wall around my heart is secure again; and only a man as good as his word can break it.

The Real Thing

I slam the car door, glance up, and see her, Standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Mickey Mouse waves at me from her yellow t-shirt, ripped jean shorts barely cover her ass. Closer to God in those heels, but just pushing five feet. She’s got one hand on her hip, a baby on the other. I pause, my heart full of admiration. A cigarette hangs from her brightly painted mouth. She takes a calculated drag and exhales slowly. The sun beats down on us. Scorching. It’s driving the men mad. Her copper and gold curls catch the light and for a moment she looks at me. One brown eye, one blue. I nod in greeting. Her head turns back and her lips form a familiar, unimpressed sneer. She clenches her jaw and I grin, knowing what comes next. "Yo tengo mi nena, tener respecto."

The Devil's Playground

the innocence
of youthful slumber
interrupted
by a piercing scream
momentary confusion
if only it was a dream
two naked bodies
a face normally so sweet
now twisted up in anguish
shoulders slumping in defeat
a monster in the corner
violence in his eyes
whiskey soured on the breath
tongue permeating lies
an outstretched hand
a heavy heart
pulled the hunted from the scene
and wouldn't fall apart
a watchful eye that never dozed
years have passed and she still knows
if you wait until the savage sleeps
the battle is half over
one day there may be peace.

The Ghost

Lights flicker
Shadows dance
Water nearly scalding
Body in a trance
Head down
Eyes closed
A tattooed arm reaches for the sponge
Shows me what he knows
Hands
grip
porcelain
The mirror fogs
Sensory overload
A near ecstatic shock
Gasping a breath
Looking around
Flame went out
Silence is abound

The Oriental Shop

Every Tuesday afternoon, she watched him.
Nestled in the familiar corner of Juliacci's cafe,
ordering the usual tiramisu and water.
Always incognito, with a huge black hat.
The hat not big enough to hide her heart.
To the near right, a boy eager to make extra lira pounds on his drums.
The door to the shop swings open.
Heart skipping a beat, hand shaking as she delicately eats a piece of cake.
The moment has come.
She wonders what he has bought today.
Green tea? Chopsticks? Incense?
Maybe satin sheets.
She shivers.
A mere gondola hand, but the body of a smoldering god.
Rich, black hair, piercing eyes.
She is brave today, and looks up.
He is looking at her.
He nods hello and walks on.
One day she will have him.

Sailor

Thin, afraid
I slept a hole into my own hunger.
What matters is to be
tender like the language crooned to babies.
And I proceeded like a polar explorer,
to cast a line and wait at the luminous shore.
Did they remember back
and dream
the sweet meat of the mango?
So much depends
Upon
so remote a thing.
And, nothing himself, beholds
nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Music

Reality strikes with a hard punch.
Forces you into a world that's cold.
Sometimes a girl just needs to be consoled.
Hand me those headphones,
so I can find my inner soul.
Sweet, sweet, sweet melody.
I relish in the rhythm,
every break, every beat.
Instrumentals are my salvation,
they make my life complete.
Take me one step higher.
So I can touch the intangible,
reason with the insane,
make everyone's lives immaculate
and soothe their weary pain.

They shaved my hair off today.
No longer thick and long,
but short, bristly.
I run around them naked,
an atempt to prove my good health.
My breasts are gone,
I am merely a bag of bones.
There is no swing in my stride.
I muster energy to drag my feel along.
My heart leaps at the sight of a potato.
And drops with another scooping it up.
When I fall, they beat me.
Screaming obscenities in my ear.
But my thoughts are never with them.
I think back to what it felt like
being a woman.

Promenade

The orchestra plays
as they marched towards their death.
Hearts barely beating,
only smidged of pride left.
Familes separated,
their souls already emancipated.
Chopin,
Bach,
Beethoven.
Brutal men in uniform
pick the tune played on the way to the ovens.
Fathers,
Mothers,
Daughters.
Harps strum, violins play
to their tragic, unjustly slaughter.

There is a hustle and bustle in Vienna.
Women dress in gowns, men in suits.
They head off to the opera.
Art is as rich as the coffee sipped,
under umbrellas with a bit of cream.
Education and intellect have survived.
The brooding men with top hats believe
business will be revived.
Couples argue, children pick fights.
A trivial presence has still lingered.
Among the cobblestone streets,
stands a man in the shadow.
Gazing at his cirty, to see so little changed.
Looking down at his arm, he knows the clarity of truth:
the number still remains.

Oversized and Satisfied

If my thigh were a sundae, it would be
rich, vanilla ice cream,
fresh ripe strawberries.
Silky, slick peaces.
Keep the calories coming,
baby don't stop at just one scoop!
I look down,
down at the representation of my strength.
These tree trunks, these landmarks of courage.
Heads turn, eyes gape.
Take a number to get a taste
of this soft, satiny skin.
That shakes when I walk,
jiggles when I dance.
A bigger size in jeans?
More sprinkles,
Oreo crumbs,
lay on the whipped cream!
There is more of me to love.

Mother

Fingers that exulted energy
dried my streaming tears.
An innocent child,
plunging into the depths of adolescence.
Fumbling, unsure.
A voice, gentle as a Baltic Sea wave
urged to seek a different brand of truth.
Fleeing from misconceptions,
sailing past the unkown.
Assertion finally came.
It was refreshing,
like apple-mint juice on a hot day.

Insomnia

It settles over me so innocently.
Invading sleep, it crawls into my bed
And strokes my face.
Squeezes my neck.
It seeps into my pores,
Into my veins.
A veil of remorse,
Unhappiness.
It thrives on my helplessness.
As sweat clings to my back
I am without control
Nothing matters.

Lusty love

Your green peered
into my widened blue
lip trembled
hearts raced
fingers locked
heavy breath
palpable heat
craving overwhelmed
promises shattered
salty skin
legs spread
You dug right in