Wordle #161

Wordle 162.png

My thighs slide together
same as any other womans
when she has found someone
worthy of drowning inside.

I keep finding myself strewn across your hips
with your heat pressed right up against my threshold.

When you left this morning
you were notably hostile.
A million questions
spilled through my mind
that I could not answer
and did not dare to ask.

I cocinnate a vase of silk flowers
and place them on the long table by the front door.
The watery colors just catch the eye
and they look to me like something lifted
from the pages of a fairy-tale.

I hope that in seeing them
you’ll remember our bodies spread out
underneath the constellations
and the sound of my heart
up against your ear like a seashell.

I never know quite what to expect
when you come home
but this constant state of peripeteia
has left fissures in my heart
deep enough to run my fingers through.

Dressed only in shadows,
I can still feel your echo inside of me,
your climax thicker than blood
and more vital than water
trickling out slow and sinful
from between my boneless legs.


Wordle #294


A grinning shell of a man,
a slack-jointed vagabond
extends his hands
in mimicry of cheer.
I was happy once,
still am mostly
that’s the thing about
these overcast days
they give way in time.

A fugue of a woman,
a line of bent stars on her wrist
looks down the length of a leather strap.
Venting is one thing but hatred is another.
I’ve seen more faces than I can count,
same man different seasons.
Lies create their own realities.

A sun-weathered man,
a proud, strait-backed farmer
grips the handle of his shovel.
You have to trim away the excess
otherwise there’s no room for growth.
That’s the paradox of modernity
we have everything we could ever need
and we still live beyond our means.

A single woman,
a book-bargaining teacher
draws her name on the blackboard.
Talent isn’t god-given its achieved.
You can’t undo mistakes with nostalgia.
The mind is full of fractures and snares,
live forcefully as the heart decrees.

Wordle #288A


Who will bleed for my words,
for my dreadful inclinations?
No one for I would ask neither
violence nor charity.
Will the planets align just so,
a jinx on my interstellar passage?
No I move as my spirit moves me, I go
wherever there is a need for growth.

Ours is not a cult but an affinity.
We wear feathered headdresses,
in reverence for our Avian progenitor
and white silk tunics slit to the hip
that we may dance without impediment.
We seek a life beyond shallow pageantry,
we seek the truth as it arises
within each heartbeat.

There is no news here,
not so much as a sigh
for we are peace-seekers.
The goddess teaches us love,
the goddess teaches us
to decide for ourselves.
All doctrine, whatever its original intent,
leads to hypocrisy and bloodshed.
Be only as you are intended
for there is no more thoughtful gift.

Wordle #289


Smoke leaks from your open window
and I know that you are deep
within the temple of your unsound mind.

I cannot compete with your subconscious
with what you have not seen but undoubtedly know.
I miss you, your eyes swaddled in my gaze,
your words nestled deep in the base of my spine.

I no longer sense an intimacy between us.
We are strangers, our tracks having diverged.
I escape into our memories, the bits that were good
overshadowed by the bits that were bad.

You are not wrong in citing incompatibility
but for you I was willing to reconcile our differences.
I swing first with my right hand than with my left
but the debris overtakes me
and with one final gulp, the air.

Wordle #268


Another brown day stripped
of all but the ligaments.
Must I remain here
sick with what ails me?

My prayers fall to the ground
like soldiers claimed by war.
I have bled my last albatross.
I have dreamed with and without fire.

I drag my fingernails across
your obligatory ghosts.
We met, diminished by artifice.
A smile carved of balsam and ash,
your body is my mourning stone.

I stitch doors into each of your palms.
Receive me with the equanimity of paper,
love me, punish me, punctuate me with ellipses.
I have only regret to lose.

(now to remember how to write!)

Wordle #272


I want only to
stop moving,
to be still and heavy,
a bowl of silvery light
splintered and echolalic.

Drop by drop
my tears curl at the corners
singed by the jealousy
that produced them.

Time dribbles by,
oil and velvet,
class and compulsion.
Sleep is the strongest analgesic.

Why is busyness a virtue?
Why must we hurry and worry?
I do not know myself.
I do not know free will.
I have given myself up.

A very stressful and hectic last few days. Jealously has nothing to do with it but I put that word in because of the Wordle.

Photo Challenge #119

Ann Mansolino

A breached oyster-my heart now open-sours.

There can be nothing left in the end

no vapor trail, no outlines to pit the earth.

I want no part of you, not even reflection.

Let me not solidify here

with my anguished hands

still wringing the receiver.

My tears are too much for you,

they are oceans howling.

I replicate in attendance.

A virus, I have a mind to infect you,

to stiffen your smile before it chances to fall.

Do not ignore me

if it doesn’t hurt how can I

justify my investments?

My God I am pitiful,

whimpering, simpering, dangling

my nerves as if to snare.

I do not love you quite so much anymore

I see now that these treacheries,

these homicides are the shapes

of my own unaccountable fear.

Feet ghosting a sapphire ceiling

I have lived my whole life

upside down, legs crossed,

stomach bare as a drum.

There is strength in anonymity

and a predilection for despair.

Still feeling wobbly and stuck

Six for Wednesday-2


My fingers pinch
your blue veins,
like the strings of a guitar.
There’s no music in you
only the dawn
edacious and indigenous
bubbling to the surface like caramel-
coating everyone in its sticky domicile.

I can tell by the cuts
on your fingers that you’ve been
smoothing your edges again
a waste of blood,
a waste of poultice
I have chosen recklessly
and I will die wild.

a short one today

What am I up too in summary
I dropped the course with the Unemployment Office, I had covered the material previously during University and just could not bring myself to do it again. I was finding the whole situation very stressful.

I have a job practice at an auto shop on Thursdays which could lead to a job. Of course I would need additional jobs since it is only the one day. I clean, it is dirty, hard-work but it is the sort of work you can let go of at the end of the day, it doesn’t follow you home and that’s the best bit (well the grease does haha). I have cleaned auto shops before as my stepdad owned one, never imagined that experience would be the only experience I have so far that has resulted in work!

Sam is in Stockholm at an accessibility conference. He was gone over night and should be back tonight, I miss him like crazy! Sorry for spelling errors, spellcheck is not working in English yet.

Photo Challenge # 98: February 2, 2016

“Mate” by Anne Worner CC BY-SA 2.0


In the inconstant ravages of midday

I drink of your succulent greys,

of your endless repetitions.

Winning accounts for only a fraction

of our experiences, we lose everyday.

I stand here challenging my failures,

the pawn of my genius watered down.

I will not be made palatable.

I will not be made to adhere.

The only geometry worth the commute

is the human heart. Those slovenly angles

really get me going, even now

in this wrangling heat, the muse seizes hold

shaking me free of my rumpled dress.

We were young once, too young

to appreciate the distress of bones

huddled beneath orgasmic flesh.

Too young to know the intimacy

imposed by silence. I love you

in ways both innocuous and forbidden.

I’d kill for you, an oath not undertaken lightly.

We only seem casual, ordinary

but on the inside we are slicks

of versicolored gasoline, ready to ride

the circuitous waves of our ever deepening

sense of self. To truly understand life

you’ve got to jettison your identity entirely.

I will not be tagged, stacked, and sequestered

by your quadratic pretenses, the I before am

is completely unnecessary, be for nothing

else matters, not even the reward.

cutting it close time-wise barely managed a quick poem.

Wordle #96

Week 96

I hijack the cherries from
your meandering tongue.
Tendrils bound and subjugated,
it hurts to be chosen, to be beaten
within the perimeters laid.
I’ve come a long way
from necessity only.

We are rarely arborescent,
the slouch of doubt,
my turgescent member
familiar within the context
of your gradations.
A deception worn, torn,
and inundated with violence.
Are you generous enough?
Will you spare in the face
of your self-reliant poverty?

I can’t visualize a world
more buoyant, we flail,
advancing slowly,
sometimes not at all.
The stars coalesce behind
our tethered lips.
I wear your flesh,
eight inches deep
and struggling for breath.

I stack my imperfect days
vertically, a prison in which
we are both contained.
Your guilt is the only
portrait I have of you.
The resin of your gloom
suspends me indefinitely.
How can I tolerate
what I can’t understand?

I am struggling with time management right now! Also I am listening to David Usher Little Songs which may have influenced this and yesterday’s poem. Today I have my job training interview and my doctor’s appointment so I may not manage anything for Tuesday.