S.W.A.K.

kissing
I have inked my words upon your heart
I wish them to stay there
I lick each of your lips
with my outstretched tongue
all the way around
up and down
to ensure my message is enveloped
and securely sealed
I’ve sent you on your way
into the hurried day
with no address for delivery
waiting for you to be returned back to me
unopened.
Hours I wait…
dark, lonely, late
when at last you are dropped into my box
I tear you open at once
to find my words, still safe
etched on your heart.
Are you ready for more ink, dear?
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Published in: on February 22, 2009 at 12:32 am  Comments (6)  
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Ornithology

She glides into the night in silk feathered flight
Her quickening heart rises up to sky.
Reaching for the butter’d cup,
surrounded by the mossy muff
and with his ladle drinks it up
unraveling ribbony silken shreds
from her skin
it begins…
 
raven-with-ribbon 
Wings spread, coasting down to snatch
with spoon-billed beak, the catch ,
ribboned silk all around, spirals descending
into the onyx sea.
 
To make seen the water’s rippling,
moonlit,  upon obsidian wings
He brings her, featherless
to the nest
and dines on blood and thigh and breast
 raven-naked-ribbons
 
 
And in the currents of ocean, dark
he lifted a single thread from it’s stark,
a silken ribbon to weave
among the twigs and moss and bones,
his throne, a trophy case
a resting place
and her beak tossed among the downy pile
the aftermath of a hungry night.
 
 
 
Published in: on February 17, 2009 at 12:22 am  Comments (1)  
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A nightlong prize

He likes the getting as much as the having
He opens doors and brings her flowers
He gives her his hand when they drive
He keeps her heart alive
 
He likes the pursuing as much as the perspiring
He cooks and cleans and whispers things in her ear
He tells her she’s pretty and rubs her feet
He’s very sweet.
 
He likes the wooing as much as the whoopee
He plays Nat King Cole and melts her heart
He fetches her coffee and wine
He’s the world’s best Valentine
 
She loves his tenderness as much as his tenderloin
She rewards his imagination with a whirlwind of pleasure.
She enjoys being caught as much as being chased
He gets her biggest embrace.
 
There is no guarantee he is not looking for
something more from her.
But there is no doubt she will give him anything. Anything. 
He may rest and let her show her grand appreciation.
Published in: on February 16, 2009 at 9:46 pm  Comments (1)  
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The exorcism

My demons are getting some exercise
I need to make them good and tired
so for many quiet days
I’ll be relieved of their wicked ways.
 
My devil, doing biceps curls
tells me to go drink with the girls
I talk too much as my brain whirls
and imbibe until I hurl.
 
My imp, I tell him to run laps
my mind, it cramps, and bleeds through gaps
I gasp at such a tortured lapse
and beg for sanity’s firm grasp.
 
Twas squats I ordered Mephistopheles
which almost brought me to my knees
he pulled my skirt and begged, “Please!
I’ll rob your fair beauty should you rid of me.”
 
The exercise that left me vext
came to me in my quiet rest
A nightlong marathon we sext
his searing hand slid to my breast
 
Alas, it was Beelzebub
my soul’s health could join no other club
my fits of craze have no sub
my nourishment came from his nub
 
My demons give me exercise
If I fight they make me tired
they chatter to me on quiet days
saying death rids me not of their wicked ways.
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Published in: on February 11, 2009 at 12:02 am  Comments (3)  
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Lovers in a Hot Pocket

It is not fear, my dear, that keeps me here
It is a juvenile resistence to peel back the sheets and face the slap of cold morning air
I cling to our heaven with my head on your chest, and my shoulder snug and nestled under your arm.
Our feet, the friction, like a cricket’s song
and your tenderest kisses placed on forehead’s hairline
Our limbs, toasty pretzel-entwined
our fondling hands speak language signs
And then, how awful we recognize time
 
The shifting blind striped light
The rooster’s pestering crow
nags that we must go
Published in: on February 7, 2009 at 10:32 am  Comments (6)  
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unconfident confidante

I am an unconfident confidante
an insecure security blanket
and I don’t know how much longer I can take it
I am not flattered or aroused
how little you care about your vows
or how battered she leaves your soul
I am not a sympathetic sylph
I am no adorer of adultery
I cannot help it, that I’m sultry
Take charge of your faculties in your facility
practice some humility
and leave me and my love alone
I am uncomfortable and compromised
and your straying words are no surprise
my words are merely pearls to swine
I do not wish to have you thrust
your woes upon my bust
I am not whom to entrust your infidelities
Find a Rabbi, or a preacher
perhaps a friend, a shrink, a teacher
I am merely just a chick you barely know
Part, do not impart
keep on your clothes, and do not disclose
stay dressed, and don’t bother to confess
I have no stake in your sinning
and your values are in conflict with my own
You give chance no credit
and diligence no merit
and you’ve created what you inherit
and what lovely lady would accept
your broken spirit
but one who has one of her own?
Published in: on February 1, 2009 at 12:28 am  Comments (1)  
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