Your Valentine Confection

You melt my chocolate heart,

dip your fingers in the puddle

and touch them to my lips

painting each crease, and securing my silence

One by one, you wrap your tongue

around each dripping digit

slowly pulling each out,

savor slow my liquefied love.

I can see the tantalizing look in your eyes,

like a flood of water is filling canals, smashing against the walls

your blood gushing in all the nefarious regions inside.

After your mouth has finished its orgasmic fit

and while every nook of flesh is pulsating, darling,

do not forget the rest of me:

your eclair that still needs filling.

Published in: on February 19, 2010 at 10:10 am  Comments (2)  
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To the Nth degree

I’ll tell you a tale

(I promise it will be brief)

about the degree of  othingess

that plagues my etity.

ightly it visits  i  various stregths

holdig me captive to its predictable restraits

ad should I have ay reservatios,

it would succumb me to self preservatio.

But, alas, here am I

a dugeoess, tedig my shackles like sheep

coutig dow the alphabet for lack of restful sleep.

The fathoms of dreams, escapig my gills,

my blak mid like a sieve that spills air

o the pages of isipid depravity

suspeded i vagrat gravity.

Gratig vacatio of thought,

stagatio of cogitio,

ihibitio, deluxe, how it sucks

at the teat of this futile icarceratio.

Ad should I get through this ihil state

with wits itact,

I might have a poem to redact

with the kik of the Nth degree

Published in: on February 14, 2010 at 11:51 pm  Leave a Comment  
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I want to feel the effervescent foam of a symphonic tide crawling up my toes





I want to be a fluffy tuft of dandelion, carried to the heights of foreign landmarks

I want my ears on a string that I can cast into a quiet room and let them bob on the silence until tranquility takes hold and pulls them under

I want to be possessed by the ghost of effortless decorum

I want to be a crescendo in history’s most astonishing symphony; the one where hearts hit the ceiling and the well within the listener is spilling over with awe

I want to be a flock of blackbirds that fly above farmland, darting uniformly in multifarious directions. I want to be the whole of the flock, scattering myself  into pieces to briefly rest in branches.

I want to live in a prodigious towering city inhabited with bright minds that are employed by Common Sense, inc.


I want to be bound and strung up at the gates of the city with barbed wire wrapped in baby’s breath and cherry blossoms

I want to inhale gravity and excrete it until I’m weightless.

I want to be the prognosticator of white lies and summon bees to sting the tongues of the tellers

I want to burn memories into the climes of my mind until embers fly, so that when I wake, perspiring, the scent of romantic ash fills my panting lungs.

Published in: on February 11, 2010 at 12:14 am  Leave a Comment  
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Unaffected Fool

The feminine winter

it’s skin, tissue paper

legs unshaven

The masculine winter,

with his even stride

believes he can reconstitute her

Published in: on February 7, 2010 at 4:03 pm  Comments (1)  
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In everything I am or do
I am monochromatic.
In things I think and simple tasks
There is a need to make a theme
In single color,
I nightly dream
a single voice in the cacophony
of screams
single digit mathematics
As a mother I should have
the knack
to decorate my hectic life
in plaid
and coordinate the many tasks
with ease
but exclusively I focus most
on the distinct hue
that needs a host
the holistic completeness
captivates me.
Published in: on February 6, 2010 at 3:47 am  Comments (7)  
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A gallon of American living

poured into an empty flask

greasy, with its amber mistakes

breaks the spoons of the hungry mouths

The forceful swallow

of all the shallows,

grabbing love in desperate places.

The brine, it bubbles

as it fills the pits

and goopy rubble still exists

in the wasteland latrines that pepper this putrefied province.

Published in: on February 4, 2010 at 1:07 pm  Comments (1)  
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Balanced Guilt is a Good Thing

Guilty, Guilty Guilt

if you have it,

you have a heart.

But too much

can leave your life in ruins.

If you learn how

to avoid guilt entirely,

you’re either approaching perfection

or are a soulless monster.

Crippling guilt,

your presence and lack of it

both mean doom

for a soul.

Published in: on February 4, 2010 at 11:25 am  Comments (1)  
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