Chaos 101

the carpet writhes underfoot

teeming with the detritus

of a thousand lurking

cocooned selves.

what say you

gritted, behind furred teeth

in the soiled stomp of a footless sock?

do you revel in my eye roll

as befits your snakebelly

stature?

I read the note you left me

scrawled in wet mayhem

\and you giggle as I trip\

you sketch me

a blood lipped evil queen

while you hashtag

#self-destruct

napalm all your bridges.

 

I hold a flame

‘neath the lemon-juiced shreds

decipher the heartsore longing

hurled in domestic anarchy.

Leaf of Heavens’ Leavings

I dream of a leaf in vein

a tree of fitful leavings

the veins plumb blue black

with the claret of my desires.

the legacy of leavings drops

\sanguine crusted\

strewn careless aground.

in the smoted eye

of a rabid fawn

I glimpse the future

as we conspire.

 

despite the tea leaved

clouds

we scuttle upon shooting stars

and tighten

our wounded thighs

as we Picasso

purple the heavens

Exposure

there is a burn

and I turn my head

scouring for the source

of the scourge.

there is a worm

in the sand of my soul

buried but squirming still

my feet are fleet

yet beat

many a mean dark street.

there hides a smoldering blaze

behind that lowered gaze

flames will not be doused

\stone sober or slightly soused\

though I pour forth milk

of kindness

froth overflowing

the scorch extinguishes

not

 

I run for waters cool

submerge my charr-ed soles

whisper to the ill-used worm

revert, don’t turn

return

Lunacy

your skin should be alabaster

encapsulating the moon’s

shimmering aloof luminescence

as it does.

 

in your absence

musty tatters

of scorched indigo

shroud forlorn luna.

 

your eyes should glow amber

beaming the warmth

of a thousand equatorial suns

as they do.

 

you took your leave

and smogged tentacles

of choking umber

envelope my sol

Think Again

so you want to poach me

turn my guts runny

on the burn of your well blown

hot air

crack my shell and

drizzle my acquiescence

over the callous crusts

of your self-satisfaction?

I decline, sir

your nauseating offer

despite mottled past

I exude no sulfurous odors

and my shell is impervious

to narcissistic fumblings

 

you think you can peel me away

denude my autonomy

as you bake puffed up

pastries

decorated with the fruits

of others’ labors

while you fancy yourself

a suave modern day Khan?

 

I am fruit

no more than fowl

and I hear the four and twenty

blackbirds singing

lo! to your base perfidy

 

you have conjured yourself king

bishop and knave

manipulating pawns

in your checkered rivalry

imagine me

accommodating accoutrement

on your phantom battlefield

 

I have fought for my place

stomach no puppet master

win your twisted game

as I deign not

to offer a response

 

Check and Mate

 

 

 

Back to Life

the Cat in the Hat

stands on his tail on my head

spinning his collection de chapeau

haute couture hats of many colors

juggles his among mine

and bouncy bouncy Tigger

fun fun fun

balances a plate

magically precarious

on a bent fork tine.

he cools my face

flapping fans from

dear old aunt Mace

who knew how to blow

hot and bold

or in from the cold

and out with the old.

the smoke he clears

spews forth from my ears

in lieu of frustrated tears

or as telltale exhaust

from over-cranked gears.

I have run full circle

full tilt, frenzied

down hill and up dale

past heaven and hell

beyond the pale

slurped from the mop bucket

of the devil’s woman char

constructed a chair lift

of regrets and resignation

on abyss’ frozen-flamed edge

pullied myself

through grim, in determination.

now I spin the hamster wheel

off the rails

of the status quo

crash the party

of who’s who and what’s what

and kick up my heels

dancing to a drum

off the beaten path.

I hear the voices in my head

testify

to my resurrection

I give them credence

and a ruby slippered

salute

Hora Hidden

where have you hidden, Persephone?

I hunted you

among the frozen

fronds of vernal fog

caught nary a glimpse

of your diaphanous flowering.

were you gowned in sophistry

teaching artifice to nubile acolytes

while old Boreas

stole your thunder

and you frolicked fur-clad

among the April snows?

or were you bullied into submission

grumpy overbearing blizzards

biting blue your tender skin

while you surreptitiously coaxed

timid fragile shoots

with chilled tears of impotence?

belated, you loosed your bonds

I felt your restless sighs

late one night as frost

cracked open, relinquishing

its hoary death grip

I whet my whistle in your tendrils

wrote a lilting ballad

so as to serenade

your zephyred dance

awoke

to find you gone.

where fled you, Thallo?

did you forsake your quenching reign

shrug off your leafing

wilted in abeyance

surrender your ascendance

to Damia’s wanton warmth?

or were you beguiled

with kiss-heated whispers

soaking your brow

as your rains are wont

while your cooling fingertips

traced a languid farewell?

my cheek chilled

just a moment

under your ultimate stroking

Inhumed

that t there

yep, I crossed it

those i’s

all duly dotted

sticky notes paper my desk

reminders scrawled

in inks of many colors

attention grabbing hues

I list like a realtor of to-dos

my calendar chimes

who what where and when.

I have a head for details

the memory of an elephant

and keep going and going and going

Energizer bunny

in gym shoes with my skirt

the better to keep on runnin.’

more competent than most

I know what I know

suffer few fools

speak my mind with authority

until my OCD

does a dirty tango

with principal-office fear

I was never called

and I am wearing ill-fitting plaid

eyes downcast, shuffling

catapulted through decades

to Catholic school girl

shame