Gardening for dummiesHer head is a flowery poem,
filled with pots and weeds
and mother earth
dug deep in roots and taciturn.
Now no one will come near,
but she has thorns
and worm-filled words,
and a spade for planting
the lesser verse…
but the loneliness
beneath roots and words
and stanza stems
until it digs ant tunnels
03 - Thy Autumn WaysThou abandons love like red, falling leaves:
Impossible (by logic) to foretell
But conversant of happenings thus seen
Typical, vain: again love's naïve fool.
Metamorphic was thy nature, thy name;
Enticed to faults, I rested beside thee,
Within thy chrysalis to entertain.
Newly adapted, thou did desert me
Aware I became to thy wicked ways,
Thy heart a quick bee, flitting from flowers
Disdainful were acts to set love ablaze,
Attracted to variety's pleasure.
I hope Autumn ways morph to Winter chills:
Left, and desolate, with morals instilled.
another morning, another nightMaybe ingesting you
wouldn’t be so bad:
my terms, my pace..
but dear, this is a thunder-belly,
filled to brim with watered tears
and static light –
cumulonimbus ten drops away
from the greenstick fracture
that comes when you’re pushed
in from two
Him. His. Mine. Yours.
I’ve been invaded – degraded –
until scum were these veins
and I kept losing hands in
Well I’m tired of poker
(of thieves after pearls
and of pearls begging thieves)
so please let my heart remain
undiscovered — a child’s lover—
a psychologist to the lonely faces
inside the lonely morning
You gave me sunset loveShe was grass-stained
with bleeding, bare-foot
because she’d always said
that shoes were for porcelain girls
afraid of callous skin.
and she was not fear.
when it crept in on white
she would make lions of trembling girls,
which craved and devoured
from her temples
You can't hurt me anymore.