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Saturday, July 31, 2010

What Would Mr. Serling Say? & There Was A Time And A Man There

If he could hear these comments
on PA Street today
of a time where he did reign
as king of chill-time entertain
Waking us from ignorance
Walking us through possibilities
awake enlivened which most
preferred to keep asleep
What would Mr. Serling say
if he could hear us all today
walking the crowded streets of PA
I think he would enjoy the comraderie
Diverse voices joined as one
Speaking often to injustice done
The streets of Serling often cold
The topics faced stark and bold
A "newmarred" creature cool
invited room for one more to one who thought he could fool
the dark side that lurked within one and all
and cast upon the aching possibility of peace a death mask pall
streets often emptied of all connection
folks in pairs or alone wandered seeking direction
often wasting the present in chasing future gain
or in a quick reverse sometimes wasting the present
wallowing in past pain
sometimes in the zone we for it was we
all of us were watched and studied with wonder or disdain
either by scientists from another land
or the substance of our very existence diminished as rag-dolls
in a huge child's hand
there were trains aplenty riding in the Zone
and much rushing and frantic searching for a telephone
Altered worlds where waking could be in a foreign state
alone in the land beyond Earth's atmosphere or trapped in
a new inner stratosphere
What would Mr. Serling say
if he could wander the PA streets of today
More than likely he'd be saddened to see
that tales of neighbor turning on "the other"
were still as common as the innocents love of a mother
More than likely he'd be buoyed by the fact that we
were all still here
and were not all floating fragments in some nuclear
catastrophic sphere
He'd probably not be too surprised at
polar ice caps crumble
or the black creeping in clear waters
as the economy continues to tumble
More than likely he would be cheered
to see a President of a different hue
And again more than likely sadly unsurprised that this
disgusted more than just a few
I know not of course what
Mr. Serling would actually say
If he could visit with us on
PA Street today
A gentle hopeful man with brilliant
words weaving a vibrant cautionary tale
of the cold desperate
world in which we'd live and die alone
in a civilization destroyed by simple
greed and the darkest corners human nature
at its worst - that terror that could be
wrought by each and all together in this
the Twilight Zone



Dedicated to  Mr. Rod Serling who still sparkles with unparalleled light - gleaming through with the vision of the possibility for mankind and an optimism for a future of plenty and peace as he stands crossed armed with so many of us tonight gazing upon us with that slight wise smile from The Twilight Zone.....

*****

There was a time and a man there...

There was a time and
a man there
who believed writing
inspired care
There was a time and
a man there
who reached past the
the darkness of the human heart
tales of humanity to impart
There was a time and
a man there
bringing tales
chilling marrow cold
There was a a time
and a man there
who pleaded injustice
(intolerance, ignorance,
short-sightedness, greed)
all atone
Looking out at us
from the screen
catching all our eye
entering our dreams
believing
in light beyond the
Twinkling Twilight Zone

Dedicated to all who remember or now are curious
about the brilliant Rod Serling and the incredibly moral world
for which he grasped and advocated in The Twilight Zone....

9 Cold Poems

Shoulder Cold

nothing colder than
the shoulder
turned to an open hand

*****
That Scarf Upon Her Head

I used to laugh at my mother
along with my younger brother
as she would ready herself for bed
a bathrobe, socks and a scarf upon her head
my father slept there on her right side
the window in coldest night open way open gaping wide
I used to laugh at my mother
Along with my little brother
at the way she could never get warm enough
as my father under lightest cover told us he lied there in the buff
I'm not laughing so much now-a-days as tortilla wrapped I lay
my body layered, my feet encased, as warm I try to stay
chagrined, stymied, filled with regret at my mocking mother pointed rude
as now, the man I married long ago, sleeps lightly covered, warm and nude

*****
A Cold

Achoo, drip mucous
in the stream
of steam that is cold

*****
Cold
Lying there in the dank
blankness of dark
waiting for the warmth
promised but not believed
glimmers of icy eternity
broken by pounding gasp
of breath regained and
awakening returned from
the frozen arms of terrored
night

*****
Kaitlin in the woods

Finger poised above
tender child flesh
upturned neck flops
in impossible angles
The finger has touched
his own daughter's neck
dazzled by its softness
The father finger hovering
here postponing the inevitable
descent, hoping for warmth
and finding as it probes in
gloved professionalism
only the expected cold

****
Womb Chill

There is a place
of unparalleled cold
in every woman's womb
where once an awaited
babe died unheld

*****
Cold Words

"I don't like the way
you walk, I don't like
the way you talk,
I don't like you.
She said leaving
her kid sister alone
with a sobbing man
and a small velvet box

*****
Watch Out

Watch out for her
said the odd mother
to the new stepmother
the little girl standing
between them
that one - is a cold one
a little bitch if you must
know...
This won't be any fairytale

*****
Please

But I love you said he
and what said she
does that have to do
with me?

*****
Oblivious

They eat their burgers
in windows
facing the snowy
street where men
with lowered eyes watch

Friday, July 30, 2010

Of the cooling of lips

My father came from
work most nights
long after I was
in bed waiting with
long curls fanned on
my pillow, arranged for him

Waiting with sleep blinking
eyes for him
to lean over
and whisper "goodnight sweet girl"
in tired silibant esses
releasing all troubles of the
day with a brush of his warm
lips slipping me softly into sleep

Those lips sent me warmly
off in safety each night of
childhood following me through
the slides of nights
through times and places and
shifting circumstances

I never tired of him
leaning over me
as that brush of warm lips
smoothed trouble from my brow

And so I rushed one hot summer morning
to catch that warmth for all time
to slug each drop of heat from the fast approaching chill
as finally it was I who leaned over
him
hand on his suddenly, shockingly,
still heart
and whispered "goodbye my sweet"
as he slipped into slumber
while we were both still warm

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Kaitlin in the woods

Finger poised above
tender child flesh
upturned neck flops
in impossible angles

The finger has touched
his own daughter's neck
dazzled by its softness

The father finger hovering
here postponing the inevitable
descent, hoping for warmth

and finding as it probes in
gloved professionalism
only the expected cold

Shoulder Cold

Nothing colder than

the shoulder

turned to an open hand

Sunday, July 25, 2010

2010Award For - Best Impersonation Of A Woman Living A Full Life

There smiling

at the sink
turning with a spatula
...and a cooing baby at her breast
filled with love and angst
in equal measure
designer sneaker clad, ready to run
from the cul-de-sac, from the apartment, from the house
feigning friendship with pseudo friends filled with empty chatter
loathe to touch too closely the bubble of their lives
authentically alone everywhere except in her head
Give it up for.... Every-Woman
who gave it up, who made a choice
when she did not have to choose

Four-Year-Old-Kaitlin Jones

The body of four year old Kaitlin Jones found today
Mutilated, raped, and murdered in unknown order
Kaitlin had been missing for three weeks
Police had called in the FBI after an Amber Alert failed and no leads uncovered
A search party had been organized by friends and family
Her mother screamed when night fell and Kaitlin was not found
It had been expected the strong-willed little girl was hiding
Kaitlin had been under the care of Dr. Goode, PhD and categorized as
oppositional defiant
Her grandfather thought she was just a little girl who knew what
she did and did not want
But even he had to agree that something was wrong when Kaitlin was not found in any
of her secret places where she often stayed for hours on
her own
The family was never under suspicion of any foul play
Neighbors responded to the mother’s screams, coming together
in their nightclothes
Making coffee, flyers and organizing search parties, some brought their untrained dogs on long leashes, others stayed with the family
keeping up a stream of platitudes
The day Kaitlin disappeared she had been given
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
with the crusts on and the jelly rather than the peanut butter on top
Kaitlin had fallen to the floor shocking the new baby-sitter with her
melt-down
A moment later she ran from the kitchen into her room and slammed the door
Kaitlin’s room was on the ground floor
In case of such a melt-down, the baby-sitter had been instructed to
let Kaitlin
“be”
No one noticed four-year-old Kaitlin climb from her window
and drop
to the ground
Where she ran across the field toward the wooded
hiking trail that snaked into the woods
Along the highway unseen but heard
rushing in the distance
beyond the trees
Where a young man had parked his car, walked for a while and waited for
something to happen - Like
a four-year-old girl who didn’t like her peanut butter and jelly sandwich

(note: for those not familiar with the form the most important details are in the first lines moving in descending level of consequence)

"Good night Irene"

Sung the singer
from my grandfather's
...gleaming mahogany
Victrola, drifting
over me in the warm
summer sleep-over night
listening, there on the green
carpet, velvet against
my grinning cheek
pleasure saturated
filled
with the song I thought
had been written just for my mother
and played just for me

Gershwin Days

Remembering those days
when I could truthfully
and happily declare
that I've got plenty of
nothing
and nothing
was plenty for me.....

A Woman Is.........

Freud was rumored "what do women want? to ask
DaVinci painted one with simple smiling mask
Boticelli had one glorious bare in an open sea shell there
...and in the shower my father would sing
a woman is a sometime thing
sang with happiness and glee
that confused the girl child that was me
were women fixed, displayed for all to question and see
or cloaked in joyful, forgiven, expected, invisibility

The Other Side

Your fingers on my pounding temples
carry me like a bridge over troubled waters
safely to the other side

Escape

Shed each layer
clothes first
followed by
each burden
leave them
billowing
in the white sand
float
free in
turquoise water
free
in
fragrant air
free in clear
calm,
in swaying palms
in the steady perfect thump
of your own heart
dissolve
into each deep breath
become one with all
billowing, buoyed, fragrant
calm, swaying, steady,
free

Escape to within

Within my mind
there lives a place
a quiet lake
...with cool sweet
air and when
the mind gets
hot and fast
I sit there a while
until all is past

Escape from the treadmill

As a girl I looked about
and saw a path spread
before me like a ribbon
...ready to unfurl
from high school to
college to marriage
to surburbia a large
box to be filled with the
spoils of some sort of
professional work
the ribboned years slipping
quickly through aging fingers
and so instead I stayed
on an island that breathed my soul
until the ribbon pulled and choked me back
for a time but never able to hold me fast

The Ultimate Escape

To slip the bonds
of the physical
with eyes closed
and a mind opened
to all...
essential existential
escape
With eyes opened
Nirvana...

The Ultimate Escape

To slip physical bonds
of reality
with eyes closed
...and mind open
essential existential escape
where all is possible
To slip physical bonds
of reality
with eyes open
Nirvana
the ultimate escape
where all
"is"

Escape - a matter of perspective

Some say
“I cannot” ..


“I want to”
but “I cannot”

I know that can not...
is a created illusion

"Yes, you can”
Escape is either easy
or impossible

The choice depends
on the vision

S-Cape

The S Cape
...is a thing we
wore when
we were young
and believed
we could soar
a large red
S upon our
chest
imagination
did the rest

Escape From Ego

Run from your ego
fun far and wide
and when you
...stop find it by
your side
A bit more tired
a bit more true
your ego standing
next to you
Not driving, riding
taunting or teasing
Just standing there
Beyond need of
pleasing

AWard -

Mr. Cleaver
Who could forget
...this Ward
walking in the
days of our
childhood
the smiling
slightly simpleton
father flickering

Award For - Best Impersonation Of A Woman Living A Full Life

There smiling
at the sink
turning with a spatula
...and a cooing baby at her breast
filled with love and angst
in equal measure
designer sneaker clad, ready to run
from the cul-de-sac, from the apartment, from the house
feigning friendship with pseudo friends filled with empty chatter
loathe to touch too closely the bubble of their lives
authentically alone everywhere except in her head
Give it up for.... Every-Woman
who gave it up, who made a choice
when she did not have to choose

Friday, July 23, 2010

Public notice: re: Mary Jones & Denise Smith

Mary Jones & Denise Smith for each other no longer legally responsible
Mary & Denise were simply incompatible
and decided to go each their separate way
after years built upon angst ridden day after day
wondering what was wrong between them and how that to say
months and months more of therapy which both needed to pay
Hung in and tried to compromise understand and grow in the same way
Drawn to each other and yet unsure they had what it took to stay
Mary & Denise had originally met ten years ago in May

Four-Year-Old-Kaitlin Jones

The body of four year old Kaitlin Jones found today
Mutilated, raped, and murdered in unknown order
Kaitlin had been missing for three weeks
Police had called in the FBI after an Amber Alert failed and no leads uncovered
A search party had been organized by friends and family
Her mother screamed when night fell and Kaitlin was not found
It had been expected the strong-willed little girl was hiding
Kaitlin had been under the care of Dr. Goode, PhD and categorized as
oppositional defiant
Her grandfather thought she was just a little girl who knew what
she did and did not want
But even he had to agree that something was wrong when Kaitlin was not found in any of her secret places where she often stayed for hours on
her own
The family was never under suspicion of any foul play
Neighbors responded to the mother’s screams, coming together
in their nightclothes
Making coffee, flyers and organizing search parties, some brought their untrained dogs on long leashes, others stayed with the family
keeping up a stream of platitudes
The day Kaitlin disappeared she had been given
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
With the crusts on and the jelly rather than the peanut butter on top
Kaitlin had fallen to the floor shocking the new baby-sitter with her
melt-down
A moment later she ran from the kitchen into her room and slammed the door
Kaitlin’s room was on the ground floor
In case of such a melt-down, the baby-sitter had been instructed to
let Kaitlin “be”
No one noticed four-year-old Kaitlin climb from her window and drop
to the ground
Where she ran across the field toward the wooded hiking trail that
snaked into the woods
Along the highway unseen but heard rushing in the distance
beyond the trees
Where a young man had parked his car, walked for a while and waited for
something to happen - Like
a four-year-old girl who didn’t like her peanut butter and jelly sandwich

Inverted Pyramidic Logic - or Upside Down Thinking

The following was written in response to a Poetic Aside prompt the form involves lines that move in descending order of consequence....although I'm not truly sure this form lends itself to poetry where each line and in those rare and wonderful cases each word lends meaning to the whole.  Nevertheless.... here went nothing...
(If not obvious the following poem was meant to reflect an "upside" logic to feelings about the history of the Jewish people)

Jews rule the world financially
turn the wheel historically
testaments, inexplicably, majestically high
carrying, laying, building
thronged slaved workers toil and die
hand wrought joined by others
one by one
brick in the hot desert sun

Thursday, July 22, 2010

"Imagine"
has won a Versatile Blogger Award!
Imagine that!


The 4 rules and my responses that accompany the Versatile Blogger award are: 


1. Thank the person who loved you enough to bestow this gift.
I thank Barbara Ehrentreu, with great appreciation for adding my blog to her award list.  Barbara Ehrentreu is a respected author, host of a Red River Interview show, a poet and a genuine supporter of other writers.  



2. Share seven things about yourself.

1)  Becoming a mother,along with being a writer were two of mychildhood goals.  Mission accomplished
2) Many years ago I lived in the US Virgin Islands, an experience which was tranformative.
3) I have had several non-fiction books published years ago on the subject of Stepmothering/Parenting
4) Of one thing I am certain:  I do not know everything that I was absolutely certain that I did know.
5)  Things that come easily to me are not necessarily without value to others.
6)  As a small child I realized life is short - now I know that I was correct and it seems longer.
7)  The Poetic Aside community has brought me into contact with a wonderful group of poets. One of whom is my bestower Barbara Ehrentreu which brings me full circle back to the person whom I would like to thank for this award.
 
3. Bestow this honor onto 10 newly discovered or followed bloggers–in no particular order–who are fantastic in some way.

1)  Here are the 10 blogs that I think deserve this award:


http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/ Robert Brewer
http://facebook.com/micropoetry/   Walt Wojtanik administrator
http://aleerily.blogspot.com/  Marie Elena & Walt Wojtanik
http://leapingelephantenterprizes.blogspot.com/  SE Ingraham
http://claudsy.worpress.com/  Claudette Young 
http://www.writers-block-help.com/  Beth Rodgers 
http://lindagoin.com/  Linda Goin 
http://sarachnid.wordpress.com/  Sara Gwen
http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com  Mary Kling
http://salvatorebuttaci.wordpress.com/  Salvatore Buttacci
myspace.com/amybarlowpoetry/   Amy Barlow                   
  (okay so there are 11)
Two special mentions are awarded to:
Hannah Gosselin  (as soon as her blog is up and running)
Sheila Harris         (as soon as her blog is up and running)
Janet Rice Carnahan (as soon as her blog is up and running)

4. Drop by and let your ten new friends know you admire them.


The Versatile Blogger award is as mentioned peer driven and therefore special in that such awards do a great deal to connect and support the on-line community of writers.  It has been my pleasure to be a recepient and now a bestower.  All my best wishes to those named and those who I have yet to "meet."






Saturday, July 17, 2010

After The Rain - Where Else But Spain

After came the rain
the plain in
Spain was, yes quite wet

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

After The Rain

All posts titled After The Rain were inspired by the prompt of the same name found this week on Poetic Asides with Robert Brewer .... A Writer's Digest site.

After the rain...

After the rain
he said he'd let her go
Her kindergarten blown
umbrella standing in
the corner of his
shoemakers' shop
where he kindly old man
had waved her in
with a friendly smile
a promise of safety
and told her
to drop her small
cotton panties
so they could dry

After the rain... she'd go

After the rain
he said he'd let her go
Her kindergarten blown
umbrella standing in
the corner of his
shoemakers' shop
where he kindly old man
had waved her in
with a friendly smile
a promise of safety
and told her
to drop her small
cotton panties
so they could dry

After The Reign - Next Morning

After the reign
there was breakfast
with a flowered china cup
unchipped, filled
with freshly brewed
coffee, a croissant
buttered whole
linen napkin
creased in straight lines
After the reign
there were clean crisp
white sheets
untangled under pillows
plumply undisturbed
After the reign
there was music
and dancing in the
darkening of daylight
After the reign
a soft smile starting
to stick, lingering
over lilac bruises
after the reign
peace
rained

After The Rain - A Solitary Step

Sun on duvet sparkled
in disappointing brightness
it was the wrong weather
for the day ahead
as she lied there
determination melting
in the bright light
as she lied there
time enough for clouds
to gather the room to hold
close with soft gray fingers
stroking her back
sweetly pulled under cover
of velvet sleep
as she lied there
stirring to the sound of
rain on windows
shadows dripping sweetly
on walls melting all away
until after the rain
standing
there at the open window
soaked in cool clean air
gossamer white drapes
gentle as butterfly wings
wafting wrapping
her long hair blowing
softly stroking as
she stepped a simple solitary
footfall from chair to air
floating finally free
after the rain

After The Rain

After the rain
he said he'd let her go
Her kindergarten blown
umbrella standing in
the corner of his
shoemakers' shop
where he kindly old man
had waved her in
with a friendly smile
a promise of safety
and told her
to drop her small
cotton panties
so they could dry

After The Rain - The Grand Unfold

In the songed country of Spain
having fallen mainly on plain
In the emancipated motherly shout
"All Right! Now you can go out!"
At the end of a reigning homonym
beginning a new regime-a min
In the dark soft loam coldly wet
slippery plumped pink worms get
In that first sky crack of light
sun shivered slivers bright
In the chill denied cool
the first dive into a pool
Or on a derippled lake
Flat surface re-take
As a child freed from cloistered room
As adult out from psyche's gloom
Each petal and leaf shimmered clean
On to chrome gleaming anywhere seen
Air fresh bouncing nitrogen bold
That is the high I've been told
Along with barometric pressure rise
raising up to sparkle eyes
In the rebirth of life
in the grand infinite unfold
this dancing droplet of after-the-rain tale told

After The Rain

Cold kitten sits soaked
in door way
as predators pounce

After The Rain - Goodbye

After I said goodbye
You held my face
one hand on each
side cradling
close, so close
that I watched
myself in two
minatured in your eyes
your wet eyes
holding me
transfixed stuck
in your rasping plea
to wait
please
to just wait
with you still
until
after the rain

After The Rain - The Gloved Wait

He sat a tiny boy
with a large glove
that had been oiled
and pressed under
his pillow for
the requisite
week softened
hanging on his
hand at the
living room window
watching the rain
fall in buckets
said his mother
though he would
have run through
that front door
onto the wet grass
and caught that
new white ball
red seamed in
his first glove
but No
he waited at
the window
watching the
water stream
as his new
his first
glove intoxicated
him with longing
for that time
after the rain

Saturday, July 3, 2010

The Daisy

As a child I dreamt a dream one night
I dreamt a field of green
of grass sweet scented, children's
calls close and sweetly keen

As I child I dreamt a dream one night
Relaxed in sleep in a field of green
as sweet scented children's voices
played unseen

As a child I dreamt this dream one night
Hands unfolded brow untight
Relaxed in sleep deep in safe free smile
Breathing evenly all the while

As children played on grass so green
Suddenly coming near, becoming seen
I moved to move, but something was not quite right
Not quite right
As a child in that dream on that one night

Struggled to move, looked down to see
that I was but a lone daisy
The children coming huge foot pounding near
I could not move from here to there

As I laid in that sweated sleep
Heart in my chest pounding would not keep
Panicked tried to move from them
Looked down my length - To see a stem

As a child I dreamt a dream one night
When I that sentient daisy was held helpless rooted tight

Just a Few…Confined Yet Freed Anew

In gables green and friendship’s lark
in a house dreary bleak and dark
In the hay where lived both mice and men
And fields of rye where catchers walk again
Under wheels of love thrown bodies jilted
In drawing rooms titters and proud chin tilted
As a mockingbird sings and justice nearly wilted
In sisters three eating strawberries and cream
In an odyssey of homeward made dream
The tiniest sound heard of a who
Tales of pilgrims passage through
floating girl in pained prince land
manic mother washing hand
magic practical and not
cats in cradles musing high
loving, living, dying, cry
from a bed, a couch, a grassy knoll
howling dogs shot, to plush coated call
Wild not only Oscar
All the others scattered flowing too
Thousands more than just a few
Loving, living, dying, crying,welling
Laughing, sexing, showing
Telling
In Capricorn tropics
And Hundred Dollar “Misunderstood”
fannie hall and all she could
succulent, shocking, laughing,
set in countries, soaked in seasons
Pouring, soaring, roaring through
Unknown, revealed reasons
trees grow in Brooklyn
bond blondes beds anew
and through it all
and all it through
the thousands
in minions dear
changed by perception’s
march in year
confined in space
yet soaring through
each child eye grown
each adult eye blown
teasing one with how can it
be that those stuck in
the leaves of books
can blow so free

Beyond the Bonds

Within this mass of muscle
boundless leaps in endless space
Past this blood bathed breath
effortless being in endless space
Behind this corneal, optical illusion
Luminous clarity sparkling in endless space
Held in this skin of flesh stretched bone
Ephemeral lucid weightlessness in endless space
Apart from this ingestive, digestive, excretive, imperative
Needlessness in that endless space
Beyond this body tied with muscle, filled with
blood, framed in bone under skin stretched tight
Beyond this body needing, needing, needing
air, food, water, anchored in gravitas gravity
marching alone from inception to destruction
Within some hidden crevice
a glistened glimmer holds
until
darkness conflagrates, dissolves, to
burst, bounding,
leaping, limitless,
ephemeral, effortless,
lucid, luminous,
clear, clarified,
oneness
slipped from confinement
beyond the bonds
released into ever
exquisite, infinite
endless space

Loon Lune

loon screaming in new
hampshire
echoes in the gulf

Luning on a Lazy Sunday Afternoon

And then he touched me
there and the
world fell away fast

Seven Little Lunes

I think that I shall
never write
a lune flying right

A lune that dips its
wings for all
to see sparklingly

A lune that calls
in lunish sway
come follow today

Come follow from the
coastal sea
rising up with me

Buoyed on soft warm air
soaring high
beyond cloud touched sky

Beyond the clouds that
block the oil
spilling sandy soil

Come fly in lunish
Paradise
Shrieking hold off ice

Pillow On My Face

Arms held high above my head
My daddy played with me in his bed
Tickle games a pillow held tightly on my face
In our private special Sunday space
I did not like the tickle games
I did not like the pillow on my face
But I loved him and I would race
To our private special Sunday space

Too Tight Words

There's only so much space in this head
To store the words that toss and tumble
Each image creating but another imagic jumble
Until like The Sorcerer's Apprentice
The words spill and spill to flood
Boiling over from the blood
Until reason threatens to leave for dead
Smothered by the ceaseless words in this head

In a Corner

In a corner of your mind
Plays a tape on and on rewind
Of a thing that you did do
And wish that you yourself never knew

The Itch

The look
The glance
The chance
To scratch the itch
Tis quite the bitch
This marriage vow
That forbids
Any ever future unfamiliar WOW

That locks as chastely
As a belt tight lock
Behavior that would hurt
And shock

So gather up all wanton wild
Tie back your hair
Keep speech measured mild
And if frustration then is piled
This is but the price prepaid
In a time of impulsive leap
Marriage undefiled to keep

Like a child with a fresh mosquito bite
Forego the delicious scratch delight
The scratch that would seem to untie free
But instead trap and leave a scar to be

Don't look
Don't touch
Don't even think

If this seems impossible
Then for you an itchy one
Marriage will but surely stink

In The Ring..

Encircled finger on left hand
Stills the wandering lust as
Runs the sand
Of time forever promised
There at a time when one did not care
Did not care for vows made
In windblown haste
When years rolled endless
Thoughtless of waste
That lied ahead around the bend
Of blank spots unspoken
Of months dissolved to years
When excited talk tumbled
Seamlessly to passion bed
Would become a season
Sere unspoken dead
And camaraderie attachment
Closeness and familial embrace
Would stand in stead in passion's place
In the ring
Stilled screams melt into sigh
For remembered times gone by
As in the ring one lives the lie
Curls comfortably and waits to die

Dark, Tight, Warm and Wet

It was dark and tight
and warm and wet
and through it all
no end seen yet
although the eye
seemed quite blind
where are you now
in that there mind
A plumbers snake
one with a lighted
end
through the clogged
drain did wax and wend