star struck osi #118 has asked us to write about love and here is my response

some people have stars in their eyes

to the smartest of fools, love exists


round and round


if this was life

there's a shadow on the ceiling

It could of been an apple tree writers island #5 blindside

It came from a phone call

I didn’t want any part of

Thump thump then it came

Then I heard your sweet melodic voice

I was hooked and now I have lost my nerve

A friend is in need of some help

that sounds good

You would never stop me from helping a friend

Would you?

This is a zoo

Shaking in the universe

You blindsided me with your tone

Round and round you swung me high

Time has passed and now you don’t understand

Why …

Bye bye

Sometimes it is ... big tent poetry #4.2 a revision

You said you were my lover

You looked inside my heart

And saw …

An anagram you could not decipher

Carefully jotting down every letter

You searched for someone who would help read it

No one understood and you almost gave up

But then you visited me one spring afternoon

To ask what it meant

waiting under the train trellis on a bench

I stared at you

realizing why you were my aphrodisiac

Your shabby hair once adored

Your sullen … sad bedroom eyes

your freshly cleansed body

give me back my anagram I need it for

next time round

forbidden passion big tent poetry #4

Avocadoes aguacates

Hanging like testicles …

from the ancient Aztecan trees

Fertility

Passion fruit

it bears on you

Spanish Conquistadores coveted them

To acquire their surreptitious wishes

induces sexual prowess

Avocadoes ahuacatl

protect your image from slanderous assault

keep your avocadoes hidden

Deep inside the cupboard

For you and your lover's libido

Puebla de Los Angeles we write poems #3

 

The volcano has snow on its top

18000 feet it reaches to the sky

And to the north is the sleeping lady still capped with ice

It has been hot during the day

The heat comes off the concrete

It is enough to make you nauseous

The rain comes at night

The air is fresh again

People on the streets in the evening

Selling tacos cemitas and churros

Fresh baked bread smell coming from a bakery

Tortas pan dulce and croissants

People move slowly on their strolls

There is no rush

Life is just for the moment

Laughing and eating

Some singing

Music coming from open doors

Kids playing soccer in the streets

This is a life I never want to leave

Family and friends are what counts

I left behind the hurried life for this …

I wrote this just because

I took our heart and placed it under

Three locks and would not set it free

Not even for the world

I took the chains and secured them

Wound them round and round

Placed the lock and threw the key in the trash

With the sewer rats

Hidden from the light

Darkness is best

That is where your heart is now

I finally set mine free

It just escaped through the smallest hole

A fragment of

freedom

Thank you …

a tea party pow #4

Trees are twisted with no leaves

The sky is a greyish blue

The mood is dark there is concrete

Too much blue eye shadow

Maybe or something else and barbwire

I cannot quite place

I am missing you where are your shoes

Where are you can you

Put them back on

Let’s have a tea party

Crumpets and an earl grey

imaginary friends writers island #4

would those be the only ones you'll ever have

because the others don't exist

oh, there was my friend who wasn't so imaginary

the friend I had when I was seven

she took me to the park 

and raped me

but maybe that was imaginary

and then I found that friend named Jesus

he was imaginary too

I remember when he said love your neighbor

that's when I knew that was through

they are so sweet to imagine, my imaginary friends

they come and go and take my breath as only they can do

they suckle close and suckle sweet and eat my pretty brain

but they are imaginary, so it's all the same

so, my wonderful imaginaries, how I love you so

Please don't stay away so long ... oh, how I miss you so

"it is all in a word" big tent poetry #3 wordle (inspired by Marvin Gaye)

glitch the pattern

doff and let’s get it on

sapient wisdom I capitulate to your fondle

it is futile

pick up the caparison off the floor

come on baby

let your love come out

the tincture is sultry in this room

neon signs light our way

proof as I crumple in a pattern underneath

traces of stars and purses hit the pavement

in spain we write poems prompt #2

This was inspired by my cd “The best of Sting and The Police”

Not really sure why Spain came to mind.

A cafe` in Barcelona in an alley where no one goes

A Flamenco dancer entertains

As rain falls on tin roofs

Inviting with her moves

Men order rounds of absinthe

The green fairy floats

The dancer looks at nothing

Platters of paella and jamon serrano are served

The music continues, the men are raucous, a tear forms

in the corner of the dancer’s eye as she recalls

her lonely life on the stage

there were fruit and flowers living in my brain POW #3 I had a another post up here and I thought twice so here is my original

there were bells on the hill but I never heard them ...

dying in a cesspool of forbidden shit

I hate forbidden shit

It reminds me of the apples I ate when I was non-cancerous


the smell of the death-ward is kinda nice

it reminds me of tricycles


no I never heard them at all ' til there was ...

a festering silence overcomes this habitat

and it ain't a gerbil cage, baby



and there was music, and wonderful roses, they tell me ...

always wondered who the fuck "they" were

if jesus lived in an underwear drawer

then the words would come out sweeter



If Gita lived in my mouth

then surgery would be cleaner



I still wish I was there with Auntie May

drinking her dirt cider

and hoping for redemption

"a hidden key" Writer's Island prompt #3

once you have it you will never be the same

i looked in the attic

and found it in a silver plated box

it will take you to a very dark place

it is the key to madness

a dark dissension into the depths of surrealism

while brain congestion occurs

living is more essential

cholera takes over, the body reeks of decay

if you use the key you cannot discern

moral ethical lies big tent poetry #2

cognitive within its complexity

journey awaits

statistics of perplexity

approach negates



positivistic, political idea, positivisme

hang off the moon meditate



stoic in views

constrained from love

legitimate fear of bad news

utilitarian pleasure of a shove



feelings, faces, au fait

swing from the sun soar



transformation of a social idea

tortured with silence

becomes something which to adhere

it should be for avauance

"Your box" We Write Poems prompt #1 boxes

I think I’ll put myself in a box

Tie it with a big red bow

Call the postman to pick me up

Take me overseas to your retreat

Arrival on Saturday of next to never

When I pop out with my butcher knife

You will be so happy to see me

Won’t you sugar?

Carve you up in fine little pieces

Ship you back in a small box to my dreary loft

Along with the nameless others to keep you company

All in a row lovely boxes

Streams gyrate into rivers and empty into the sea

"We all play games" POW #2 juxtaposing and contrasting elements

Hopscotch in the road

Day after day

Morning gilds the skies

They send my friends away

To mansions cold and grey

Tic tac toe on the sidewalk

cuff you on the hand

Don’t set me free

My heart awakening cries

Just my Librium and me

And my EST makes three

Wooly buggers play chess

Queens, kings, no pawns

Day after day

The night becomes a day

They take some brain away

Then turn my face around

I sit with my funny friend inside of me

When from the heart we say

Hopscotch

Tic the tac and toe

Chess with no pieces

As I lie in my sanatorium



*Process notes:

I took the first three verses of a David Bowie song “All the madmen”

EST: expressed sequence tag is a short sub-sequence of a transcribed cDNA sequence

I also added an old German hymn:

“When morning gilds the skies”

Text: Katholisches Gesangbuch

Music: Joseph Barnby, 1838-1896

Tune: LAUDES DOMINI, Meter: 666.666

Hell's Reign OSI prompt #115 reign

Volcanoes erupt and spew ash

She walks through molten fire

Rivers dry up and fish die

She walks on broken glass

Compost in landfill

She breathes rancid air

Toxic fumes rise and mingle with air in lungs

Coughing up blood and mucous

Eyes are bloodshot and teary

Earthquakes happen every 5 seconds

She has fallen in between the crevice

Tsunami wake upon innocent

She lets water fill her lungs

a poem for sylvia

my eyes fill with tears on this day

I hold them back and resist

you would never have wanted weakness

sorrow fills my heart always when I see someone dance

that was you and your love in life

never pretending to like

someone just because you should

you were indifferent to every nuance

didn’t care for trash or fads

special in all that you did my Sylvia

My heart is in my hands (writer's island #2 stowaway)

Oblivious and nowhere

Thrown away and missing

Feelings of another epoch

Placed somewhere and tucked beneath

Requirements of being

Cast aside and disregarded

Wants of freedom to express

Negated and vacant

Swing high from the furthest point

Float halfway through and descend

Revolving brings it to the beginning

Transcends through a miniscule filament

Desires-Descension-Death

All in the crystal ball (Big Tent Poetry prompt #1)

can I read your fortune?

I’ll tell of things come to pass and things that will occur

pay me five dollars I am worth every cent

give me your hand darling

while I gaze into my crystal ball

you want to hear the good?

how about the bad?

never mind that darling

you have such beautiful eyes

they speak to me of sincerity and serenity

and all that you have endured

give me your heart and speak to me of

past times when things were once good

I think you were a queen in a past life

because you look like one now

stunning and majestic

you’ll make a fortune and find love in this life

I promise …

just make sure you leave the five dollars on the table

Where you lay POW

Locks that broke my heart

I wish that I was there

Birds in the somber sky

I remember when I could fly


Above these blood-drenched walls

I met you in a dream

There was candy and you held an ice-cream cone

Which melted on your cheek


A distant voice, a murmur

Escapes your lifeless lips

A bottled coke, a whiskey glass

A fetish in the dirt


I wrote words upon my sleeves

Any part of clothing available to me

You sat and stared as if mesmerized

I longed for days like before


When locks broke my heart …

enigmas ... one single impression

She asked me what I was talking about

I knew what she was saying

The doubts had always been there

She was scary in her upholstered

chair



When things were right we

used to walk

We used to laugh

We used to talk

That’s over now



I wonder if she’ll ever get

up

from the down she knew

it was never in doubt



Sixteen times I’ve told this

tale

And sixteen times I’ve

always failed

My accordion sits beside me

It doesn’t say a thing



And me, well, I’m just

sitting here

Just like always

Always in fear

If I asked her if she’d rise

I know she wouldn’t



When time has ceased to be a

snare

And rabbits dance in

underwear

And kings and goblins are

everywhere

Would that be an enigma?



And still I’m just sitting

and waiting here

Remembering her short black

hair

And wondering if she was

even there

As flies infest my mouth



Enigmas fly as high as her

Enigmas cannot wander south

Enigmas of the kind that are

not mentioned



Just sitting in my nasty

room

A faint reflection

a taste of the womb

a word I never like and

hardly mention



and if you read this and

come away

with a prescient feeling of

some dismay

a vulture’s beak, well, what

I would give to see that



me and my cat

we don’t care

about dancing rabbits in

underwear

they’re pretty but they can’t

abandon madness

Quince años Sunday Scribblings has asked us to write about an event. So I have chosen the very traditional fifteenth birthday party here in Mexico.

It is a big event

A happy fifteenth birthday party

Without money in the family

The children go out panhandling

“Give us money for our party, please”

“Our sister is turning fifteen”

They need to buy Coca Cola and tortillas

A campesino provides a goat

BBQ for everyone and arroz with tomatoes

The dance for the young lady begins …

The boys are dressed in tuxedos

Handsome, dark and lean

A pretty girl stands in the center with a doll

From childhood dreams

The music begins … Whitney Houston sings

A mixture of Mexican tradition and new American dreams

Things that were and now are not (my husband wrote this for me for RWP)

Bleeding … relentlessy

Those days are gone…

Squandered by relentless competition … and some love

Remembering an uneasy feeling when I started

How would they look at my poor attempt

And yet



I used to go to bed at night, content that things were right

I still do … when I write



Blues, yellows, greens, all those colors, I was so proud of

them

They were mine

And they still are



Still, somehow, contented by it all

I rest inside this lonely hall

Of poems that I could not write

Of poems that I might



And finally, after all of that

I still sit here with Back the cat

He’s shiny and healthy

Just like me

As I sit here smiling



Let this be my final thought of things that were and

now are not

Is there a message? Writer's Island #1

Gritty sand between my toes

Salt has formed creases in my skin

I have kept the bottle in my drawer

Vowing to never open it



Sometimes I think about it

And other times I try to disregard

The air smells fresh today

Serenity blows through my mind



I wonder is there something I have missed

It’s the bottle in my drawer

I should move it to a more suitable position

Where it can amass dust with the years



Just like my life …

How to Join the Circus

How to Join the Circus