Monday, December 13, 2010

I Don't Know What You Are Thinking

I don’t know what you are thinking
Don’t know where this touch is leading
But I am feeling and needing

Passion on stove frying
splashing fragments of oil
sautéing tender skin
Melting

And I am thinking to stir up
mixing your scented flavour
in this unique cuisine

Don’t know what you are thinking
But I am thinking to continue cooking
and cooking

Monday, December 6, 2010

He's Arousing Me

He is arousing me playfully
teasing my neck with flavouring tongue
stirring passion shoulder to leg
stencilling lines with pencil fingertip
prints the word “fine” on yearning skin
now I am wondering,
what does he expect of me?

Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Middle Room

The middle room
With dimming glittering light
of a pale blue hue
pastel pink, green bedsheet
covers the queen size mahogany bed
Powder turquoise curtain drapes a broom like trimming
sweeping, sweeping the hardwood floor

An elderly woman rebuking eyes
stares through a fragile picture frame
WATCHING
A young girl with company

A quiet song sings in silent tongue
Mattress churning turning
midnight light cat fight
purring purring to a hush

Pennies shillings rattling like a snake
falls to the ground
And the elderly woman rebuking eyes
makes the young one cry

Monday, November 29, 2010

Without You

Without you spilling words on the street
About God's sweet hand and redemption
I would not be here
Without the thoughts of poets reciting on stage
Or printing words on fine line paper
I would not be here
lost somewhere
Empty house breathing sad air
Broken windows, falling ceiling
Seeing dead people

Friday, January 1, 2010

Craving

Observing you from afar
My mind ventures,
Aesthetic thoughts.
Body ripens;
Season sweet pine.
Over time yellow,
Soft and ready.
Built in flavour savour,
Relishing my own essence.
Intense thinking
Thoughts a new
Of what I’d like to do
And wanting
But not now
Holding
Still fantasying
Taking it slow.
Refusing to move
Longer I wait,
more I savour.
Sautee meat,
Triggering bone
To sip the juice.
Holding the sap,
on my tongue
Wanting to spill
To squeeze in your mouth
My tongue

AND WANTING.

Wanting
Is my secret craving