Wounded

Adrift in the city, I picked up a fallen twig
and lifted its whisper to my pale lips
maybe it was the crying of the geese,
a cracked pine cone, or a bruised heart

Something from afar flutter its wings 
echoes of tropical sea, beside the volcanic bed, 
the pitter patter of rain on palm leaf, 
soft as frangipani petals on bamboo mats 

Awakening from deep winter night, the maple leaf
sang under my tongue, its sweet fragrance 
wafting cheeks, now blushed with hot summer nights

Suddenly my breast clenched in memory of 
my roots, shorelines stringed of coconut husks,
halved, its fleshy juice quenching my thirst,     

and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent. *

Line and Inspiration:   Pablo Neruda:   Lost in the forest 

Posted for:   Real Toads and D'verse Poets Pub:   OpenLinkNight

Thanks for the visit and smiles.    

Poetics - Vampires

in silk and lace, she tempts
without the knowing look of a courtesan


as the one who lives in an empty wasteland,
her skin gleams of dusky plum, beckoning my touch


does she not know how self centered I am?  
how evil I can be, how even powerful I can become?


there are no roses on my coffin,
but wood gored from silkworms munching dark cavern


there are no candles on the walls,
but horns hacked from animals wandering in the night


my tongue twitches for the taste of her blood,
the smell of her thighs scented of her surrender


like amber, sandalwood and jasmine on my
hands, now gripping her arms with brute force  


“Drink from me and live forever."


her lips quiver with anticipation, of answers to questions
i do not tell her that all I have inside me is a can of worms  


her hands are greedy to slice open
my head in the heat of passion  


she is trading her idealism for eternity,
her wrinkled old face for this moment's dip into


the well of eternal awareness, my knowledge of the world
intoxicates her, power on her hands, she closes her eyes      


my sharp teeth breaks her skin, the crimson wetness  
trickles down her nape, summoning wild beast in my foreskin  


i don't tell her my secret, she will surely die
when she finally realizes the truth of life:




"There is none."




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics: Vampires  - Thank you for the creative prompt, Blue Flute.  Inspiration from Anne Rice's quotes.  
Shared with Poets United.   

Inside me

Inside me lives a working class woman *
Tinder soot on cheeks, hands of a layman 
Daily I wash plates and throw away bones    
Daisy feet I'm not,  but wide as a cone


Inside me lives a reckless brown filly 
Gin and wine I take when I feel silly  
Dreams for my children, bright as the sun 
Dread thoughts I keep, serene like a nun


Inside me lives my sisters, harlots all
Sins, curled in cigarette smoke, they call         
Pleading for money, clothes and gossip 
Pleasantries I care not, but a firm grip 


Inside me lives my mother, my grandma, 
Indefatigable, bold charisma 
Wrongs, missteps, I shrink to a fraction, 
Wrought iron I’m not, jar full of passion



Inspiration:   Brazilian poet , Ana Lins dos Guimarães Peixoto, Cora Coralina:   All lives
Ana published her first book when she was 75 years old.

* Inside me lives 

The working-class woman. 

Pretty proletarian. 

Pretty gossipy, 

Imprudent, unprejudiced, 

Rude, 

With little slippers, 

And many children. 


Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   OpenLinkNight - Monday 
and D'verse Poets Pub :   OpenLinkNight - Tuesday   


Poetry form:   Framed couplet - Thanks to Gay of D'verse Poets Pub
Based on Kenia's Challenge:   Celebrate Feminine   


Picture credit:  here

Love at the Movies

You  say    I  am  your   lucky  charm

Searching to find me through great lengths 

But  I  found  tenderness  and  strength

I'm  the   lucky  one  in  your  arms  

~0~0

Inside  me  lives an  old  woman 

Pared, sliced and left in bitter wine 

But you catch me, unwrapping twine

Piercing  icy core, my  bowman    

~0~0

There are second chances we take

With our  vows,  a  kiss  renews

Our journey, fresh morning dew

when we say YES, our love remakes 

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   Envelopes and Mary's Mixed Bag - Let's Go to the Movies.   I relax watching romance and comedy films, specially on weekends.   If  the movie makes me cry, its a good movie  :-)   Have a good weekend ~     

Poetry form:   Envelope Stanza - iambic tetrameter (8 syllables per line)

Rhyme Scheme:   A,B,B,A

Native heart

                                                                                                

       There are words that

    Bloom from your lips

      Follows not the arc of the sun

          But the curve of your hips

             There are verses needing no sub-titles

                Strung with passion stained fingers        

                  They roll from the tongue 

               

                   In heavy guttural sounds,

                    Primal echoes to your ears

                You close your eyes

             Imagining the stormy sea

          The raindrops drenching your skin

       You are swept in the tide  

   In fragments, in pieces

   You don’t put together

      In one coherent stanza     

         But leave it to seed

           Nourishing native heart

Posted for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads- OpenLinkNight - Monday 
and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3 pm


I am participating in the National Poetry Writing Month in my other blog.   Thanks for the visit.


picture credit:  http://gildam.tumblr.com/