Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Key Chain of Events

It is you, oh tangled chain
that I cannot live without
For you, jangling in my memory
and not jingling in my purse
halt my world
You dangle before the silk screen of my mind
casting shadows of doubt
questioning your whereabouts
and I simply cannot leave.

It is you, oh silver, rusted star
encrusted with broken jewels
who lights the darkness
to beckon me toward my vessel
You who opens doors
To the happiness of home
And locks my muscles with your Gold
medal of a gym card swinging
gracefully upon your rings.

Provider of entry to happy open roads
Warrior guarding the gates into my fortress
Tiny trinket of unknown value until you’re lost
Never leave me again.

Monday, October 29, 2012


Puzzle to my piece you are
warm and full with pleasure
I tremble for you
desirous of palms caressing
your gently wrinkled silk
skin cascaded in your milk
pouring out with the feather of my touch

Peg to a hole
you do not slide but hammer in
hard redwood fibers burn
the delicacy of rose pink flesh
Pounding and clenching her petals
As you and the night glide beyond

Key to a lock
You are irreplaceable
Never could your part be played
By the falseness of plastic
Or models fragile as glass
I cannot break the spell you cast upon me
Oh slithering poisonous snake
You have me writhing for your venom
Let me kiss you with my lips
And take you between my breasts
As we slide into oblivion.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Taking and Running With It

Been down that road before
killing potential
to win the race
Running a marathon with untrained
wobbling stilts for legs
screaming to

S l  o   w     d     o      w       n

But pushed on anyway
to a quick end
peeled up from the pavement
skin sticking
blood dripping
heart bruised from the pounding
grounds of dirt and memories
the wound took in for
permanent decoration
losing dignity and the pace
to move at all toward the goal


S l  o   w    e    d       d        o        w         n

at a time
I’ll run past
The Finish Line

Monday, October 22, 2012


She breathes in slowly
Wide open lips
plumped with action
from its rubbing on the skin
In the darkness
all eyes on her as she
and sucks
the bitter limelight
She’s a black little kitten
stretching out, tail in the air
and she digs in her claws
All aboard the whistle screams
a train song
and the cling clang
of metal circles grinding
on hard rails
begs me to 

*This poem was written in reflecting on the fun experience of having heard my favorite poet, Kim Addonizio, play a song called "Train Song" on her harmonica. 

Kim Addonizio is known for her bluntly honest, raw and sexually charged poetry. A fan of the latter, hearing her play, I had been certain that "Train Song" had been an analogy for foreplay, sex, and orgasm. When I asked her about it, however (yes, I did) it turns out, it was 'just' a song and not about sex at all.

It left me, none-the-less, inspired. 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Rainy Day Paper Presentation

You awoke to thunder
bolting you awake in bed. Body quivering with the first kiss of the rain
trembling with desire for lightning rods to be shoved
into your eyes
streaking from the sky as you beckon the chills
to come
from head to toe
between your sheets.
pouring into them, your soul,
drenching them in your wildest, most exaggerated dreams.

Not purified water that showered you clean,
but frigid acid-laced drops which, stinging
fell in quarter sized plops upon you rough
before you got Kinky
your creation in a glass room filled with humming,
vibrating machines, allowing you to plug an apparatus,
press their buttons and do whatever
you want with love notes scribbled on recycled paper. Anything
involving the pierce of a staple, or a clamp for thicker tissues pinched together,
perhaps some binding apparatus or a thin plastic wrap
All for additional cost, of course.

You pranced in puddles, no protection present, and presented.
White long-sleeved tee painting your breasts black with moist,
shivering, shaking
so hard
that words came out unrecognizable
as your necklace bounced up and down with your quaking breath.

**Decided to try and write a poem in second person. Also decided to try to capture my rainy day excursion to Kinkos before presenting a short fiction aloud to class in an artistic and suggestive way. This was the result.