A Vampire's Diary

You wait for me
Night-veiled, intemperate sky         

There's no mistaking glint in your eyes
nor your lips, shaped hungry as quarter moon

leaning carelessly against apple tree
But its not the apples, red & deadly

you are craving for
Not dripping white sap nor blistering roots

But raw flesh & wild
river ravaging my insides

You say you love me to forsake all else -
shallowed past, sun-brushed mornings, even anemic diet  

But I know you
will choose me even if I'm a poisonous tree 

Because without me
You'll grow old quickly

Strangled dry & wanting as autumn leaf
I'll tell you what is wild, tormented, slippery

cold, Here - take this pen  
And stake it through my breast

My ink flows, not crossed with holy ghosts
But full of open wounds

wasted agony & bleeding for life
sentence, not eternal damnation

of feeding and unfeeding
How demanding you've become

Now now

Bare me your neck 
curved warm veins, beating faster than a clock 

You take me:
A cure, muse, lightning 
                                             the storm you dream about-      

 

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - To Monster with Love
& D'verse Poets Pub - Wild Beasts -

Thanks for the visit ~   Happy Halloween ~

The unMASKing

Stitched in silver plumes
& music sheets 
it didn't move our skin
to an intricate dance -

No, give us a mask
that makes our faces
alive:  teeth baring, cheeks rouged 
red, nostrils flaring         
to scent of prey & danger - 

A mask that doesn't mistake the
wanting in the eyes.  Nor dims
desire
creamy & heavy lidded as the moon.
No this is the mask
that latches into our
bones & cracks
not smoothening but raving
our edges & unvarnished thoughts
black & primal

hungry for chase
A mask that purrs & wears nothing
but its claws
loving the havoc   
of being put on

The mask that burns
slick words, speaking
in dead languages & ancient chants   
Unmasking
until

We forget 
our names but this-

  Darkness

                                                                  Here we are -

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Mini - Challenge:  Masks by Grapeling ~
Shared with Poets United
Picture credit:   here  

Rondeau: An Evergreen

         Parijata, Sorrowful Tree

Will you come with me, where the nights
linger long, steeped flowering white
      blooms, aromatic as primrose
      red & full.   The moon will stand close
            cradling our words, silver & light -


Come & take my hands, oiled, stained bright
of saffron.   They're yours to hold tight      
       when all else fails you, I propose -
            Come with me


Be my first love & second sight
I'll bear sun's ire if we take flight    
     This forest, we'll garden a house             
     evergreen, lush of poems & prose    
With sky as sole witness, tonight
            Come with me



Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Language of Flowers
& D'verse Poets Pub - Rondeau Form - that's fifteen line poems using only 2 rhymes, set out in three stanzas of 5, 4, and 6 lines respectively, with a refrain that forms the opening of the first line and the last line of stanzas two and three. The rhyme scheme is Refrain-a, a, b, b, a -          a, a , b, Refrain -        a, a, b, b, a, Refrain.

Tanka poems: Autumn

autumn is like a book
worn, frayed & inked of yellow -
but run your fingers
      along my spine & inhale the words
      they're like flowers, fresh from rain -

Just a Picture:   Blossom

~0~0~0~

petals fading dark edges
leaves bursting in fiery shades
crimson, orange-dusk-

       kiss me like a hungry bird
       ravishing the last fallen apple    
  

~0~0~0~

this moon-stained night 
oak trees are trembling behind clouds
smoky black & grey -
      clock ticks a heavy omen, love 
      stay- even if dawn burns us -  

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Tanka Poems

Shared with Poets United ~
Happy weekend ~

the music in my head

my fingers pluck 

taut guitar strings, i shake 

off the labels people have of me: 

hardness, coarseness, shallow words

         &  let the beat inside me move 

         to roaring sea, wind, ever restless

         crescendo, then the lilt, slower drum

         beat, shoulders and hips sway & slump 

i should be writing about broken

emptiness, solemn grey clouds

messy fallen leaves, dirty city air  

but my hands strike a nerve of a mountain   

          & grips a rope to bring me 

          down on my knees, searching for fire:   

          that core that leans to the sun

          those tides that full moon smoulders 

                      the tilt of my gravity moves  

                      towards you, softer cadence, 

                      garden you spring  - from me, of me, with me

                      everything pours out in my music: 

                      another love song 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub,

OpenLinkNight  - Thanks for the visit ~

Artist:  Walasse Ting (1986)

Secrets

 Pummarola. Credit: Hirsheimer & Hamilton

fruity & fragrant -

      is what an italian sauce should be -   

so what's the secret, i ask -

      time he says, choose carefully the season-

ings & ripe tomatoes - flame-red, elliptical & firm

     not flabby, containing little water & few seeds-

i peel off - skin & seeds - ready for the lesson -           

     (note: oregano makes a bitter marriage with sauce)                      

he starts with a fast saute

     olive oil, garlic, onion, celery, carrot & parsley

i curl into the earthly aroma -

     all senses taut & stirred in what we are creating -  

here's the key, he carefully watches sauce pan -

     the tomatoes natural juices allow the other

sauce ingredients to stand out while it simmers -

     not suffocating (like heavy puree), but enriching flavor -

i imagine my colors swirling in canvas-

     coppery gold with specks of autumn orange, rising in steam- 

cook gently but quickly, he adds -

   & with a flourish, he ends with a dab of olive oil -

don't forget that & this -

    his hand reaches for the wine glass

i swivel in his tongue - lush of grapes & black plums-

    fruity & fragrant-    



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics by Karin G - Anything about Italian, so I went for Italian cooking ~  Happy long weekend & thanksgiving to my Canadian friends ~

Our bodies

    If I am to assemble our bodies

in a canvas

    it will be the distance between pale 

sky and sea

    pounding the wall thick of old trees  



If I am to journal our words 

    in a book

it will be thin & scrawny with hardly

   any quotes

pressed amidst dried roses & frayed ink

  

So instead,  I will make plump of

    our hollowed bellies &  

smear turmeric & saffron on our faces 

    earth rich, sun-burst colors    

pining eagerly as autumn leaves before falling  

                                                                    away-

Last Kiss by Adam Martinakis

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Inspired by poems of Denise Levertov 

Shared with Poets United Thanks for the visit ~

At night in the Map Room

We moved in this house with only 3 rooms: 
Map Room,
Mirror in the Sky 
& Elephants are Everywhere-

This how our constellations construct - 

We start our morning in
Mirror in the Sky 
where everything falls 
into our bodies like magnets:
autumn leaves, goose feathers & apple seeds      

Then by afternoon, we scamper  
to Elephants are Everywhere-
Here, you fix broken appliances   
and watch world war II documentaries
while I search for 
Elephants in crossword puzzles
& worn books & labels of bottled jams-   

And at night, we sink into  
Map Room, where you would unfurl
our mast & scatter compass points across the table-  
under a single flame,  
your pirate's eyes search for latitudes:     
east for spices, west for oil        
north for mountain peaks        
finally south, for my diamonds-    

& i would sigh for every X mark you find - 

Map Collages by Matthew Cusik

Posted for:  Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - For Margaret's challenge - To write about Place & D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks to Karin (Manicddaily) for inspiring me to write about Elephants, smiles ~