Rainstorming

You're gonna come down in sheets 
And I'm gonna take it
Because I need it
It's a reluctant pummeling
It's a rejoice with a relapse
Sick gray daze
hazes of rain
beating me, bathing me
scathing frigidity
drifting over me

I measure in inches
what you've given
gathered sand 
to keep you at bay
and pray for more
I've raided stores
And boarded up
for your arrival

Come to me
Flood my streets
I'm gonna curse
And vow 
to sleep through it all
but I'll admit,
I am enthralled
watching and waiting
for the onslaught
peeking through curtains
watching puddles turn 
to lakes turn to seas of 
all that we need
and I will squeal
"Please let up."

And it will pound on
until it's done.

You could always get more than you can handle and be grateful for it.

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Inadmittance

She won’t admit it, but

she wants to be a cause worth pursuing;

To make a man

sprint

trapezius flaring,

jugular bulging,

hands

clenched and pumping

with determination;

tackled to the ground

and ravaged like a battlefield.

.

She won’t admit it,

but she wants to be a territory worth fighting for,

even if she fights back,

she is begging

to be won;

to have a soldier

of desire

conquer her,

to be completely

surrounded

by his might,

to have him launch an attack

so fierce

it will end in

bloody surrender.

.

She won’t admit it,

She will be coy, will put up walls

She wants torn down,

Will wail for her troops

to save her,

But her lusting heart is a defector

Longing to be shackled

And bound, impounded

And pounded into

Succumbed weak yielding torture.

The wind: a breath, a current

A breath

went for a walk

with two gallivanting fingers

up and down

her spine

That doormat

sure can hold on tight

when the wind

comes from behind

  

A breath

that couldn’t talk

through pillows and trachea hugs,

exhaled in tears

and darkened stratospheres,

that muffled wind

who can bend and ascend

to the heights of beanstalks

 

Some foreign breath

that blows wind chimes

carries, like rivers,

the silence

and disseminates

the seeds

much like dandelion weeds

to a distant resting place

for unspoken violence

 

The wind: a breath, a current

that strips trees or tickles noses,

waves flags,

shifts sand,

and is a collection

of the sighs

of millions of years’ toil

the target in the cross-hairs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

  

 I’m easy prey these days,

a rapid catch.

ready to play?

 

teasingly left garments torn

soaked in my musk

hang from the oaks

 

and tracks where the mud

squooshed between my toes, show

you are on my tail

 

if your gun is loaded and ready

and your hounds can sniff my trail

you’ll be sure to bag me soon

  

if your senses are keen

you will recognize

that there are tracks aside mine

 

an imprint, but of what?

and pointy shards of shattered dreams

a struggle has occured, it seems

 

dear hunter,

are you stalking game

or a tracker shepherd ?

 

where I hide

under the leaves and bramble

and piles of loose earth

 

freshly discarded

ragg’ed and shucked

bum luck. Your mark’s already snatched

  

wipe the horror and shock from your face

rise to your feet

for at this very moment

 

you may be the target in the cross-hairs

Pickinggrapes

They told her she should go to meetings

She didn’t go

They said the healing would be slow

That it would take time to quit hating men

And that it’s normal to consider being lesbian

 

She never uttered a word, seemingly in shock

Who would understand the joy of being stalked?

And to whom could she confide that it was a fantastic ride

That forceful slide

 

“Prevention is key.” they impressed

“You mean, like, don’t leave the window open when you’re getting dressed?”

“Yes, and quit dressing like a filthy whore.

And when you return home, lock your door.”

 

As if collecting a to do list

But planning

for the opposite

Those animals can pick up a scent

And follow it

And what they want, they always get

 

She will be waiting in that parking garage

Red lipstick, stilettos on

Curvy black hair, Seductive dress

Lingering for that quick, sick caress

Boxxxcar Jill

She was a free woman, riding the rails

Sleeping in boxcars, chasing a dream, blazing trails

Where she awoke, is where she was,

A new adventure awaited in every halt

She could make her way on her own

Dancing, drinking, thinking, singing

Seeing lands, finding beauty, finding trouble

Stealing and charming all the necessities to survive

A rough life

 

There were men. She’d invite any and all in

There was no resisitance to anyone, anything.

Surely totally free.

Until one day.

A thief came along and stole a kiss.

Tied her up, felt her up, filled her up.

Beat her up, and slit her throat.

She might not be free anymore.

Or maybe she’s freer.

You steal the darkness

Flashing a devious look, you follow me

Into the corridor

Your hand clasps the back of my neck

sweeping my hair aside

your teeth pierce my earlobe

your hands a meat hook in my thigh

you steal the darkness and force it deep in me

I can’t speak except to beg

I am full of gravity and splendor

and bend my will any direction you please with your every gust

When finally you leave,

I am a shrouded black puddle

waiting for someone to come along

and drink me up.

The Fisherman

He will tempt them.

They will give in.

He hides his gaff,

And charms their simple minds.

 

They struggle for a moment.

They fight for one last breath.

One greedy intention; a twisted perception,

Fell prey to the king of the food chain.

They secrete their anguish-

He’s such a sport.

Inefficient gluttony

Rejected for the massive one.

Rakery

Tonight his plans won’t fail

I can feel my aching arteries

Throbbing with this grief of mine

For all I am, I am forlorn.

For all I might be I am alone…

 

In a state beyond being, beyond emotion’s lash

My mind clenches to just one feeling

And the dagger’s sharp point turns on me.

 

Tonight I feel my heart beat

And excruciatingly lay my head at rest

I can hear the wind chimes singing

As the air moves softly past.

 

This love of not alone tonight,

I feel I am an item.

He thrives his assault upon my fleshy figure

And I close my eyes and make believe

He wants my love…