The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve

The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve
William Blake, c. 1825, watercolor on wood


His muscles stand out in wooden relief.
Bare flesh runs from blue black shadows of hills.
The distant red sun tears fingers through grief
darker than mother’s hair, the boy’s final shroud
her limp body a bower for his will.
The father behind her, eyes searching still
for the son that remains. He wouldn’t dare
look down at his slain son. Mother’s cries trill.
The marked one escapes, tearing his hair
in one moment separated from goodness.
When family ends whose wail is loudest?

Zion

O Zion, how I love thee
Since the beginning of time, my heart longed for you
The thought of you are like snuggle to my soul
You said
To have me you must wash,
Wash, be refined, you must be pure
Pure as gold

O Zion, when will I see thee
I was made for you and you for me
I am washed, refined, pressed and fired
Like Egypt you went after other gods
Men find pleasure in your bosom
But against me, you turned your back
I will run, fly, swim, crawl to find a place in you
At your gate I will wait until you let me in

Zion, your trees are diamond, your streets are thorns
My soul longs for the fruit of your land
And my flesh endures the pain
Tear me, break me apart
I won’t, I won’t let go

All about Me

For just that one kiss your lips bestow,
I will let you conquer my heart for eternity
Without hesitation or thinking twice
I would gladly barter my hopes of Heaven for you.

Your new love has resurrected me.
Nothing is what it was before
I am willing to bear unending torture for you.

Oh my dear New Love,
Old Love speaks jealously of you
And from here I can see why

You have resuscitated my desires anew
Fires that long ago burned out have ignited
I can see the future I have been waiting for
And the passion I have so long been denied.

In this moment,
Nothing can change
or ruin a love like this!

But now as day breaks,
I know I must turn my eyes from you
Old Love, with roots so deep
Her embrace offers asylum from thee

And when I no longer feel the need to flee,
The thought of you is a sin of the deepest dye
I must use the light to search
For a way to bleach out this stain

I know I cannot bear to look in your eyes
For the waterworks will sweep away
All the remnants of you.

So, with fond memories of you,
I hope you don't feel betrayed.

Under this umbrella of love
And with the transient clarity I now possess
I must choose infidelity to myself or to you.

i had awaited those victorious
Xs, stretched out in glory,
forty six syllables speaking
your name.

yet after years of base pairs dancing
across my vision, after hundreds of
hours of learning their language,
today they are as cryptic to me as antiquity.
today they are tiny inaccessible gods.
yet i pray they will hold you, snugly,
with their broken arms, and say i'm
sorry baby, on some molecular level.
i'm sorry she had to let you go.

Memory of a Smile

I used to wear a smile
Of decorative style
Not a stranger could resist
This ivory trinket from distant while
I had it on that day
A proud flagship of my face
To greet great spires of gleaming tower
Where Cherubs sing of sacred space
I know it had caught the eye
From the ruler of this special place
He who subjects idolize
And won me presence in the night
It had brought upon his touch
A brief harmless brush
That lingered a bit too much
And when I felt his kiss
Those two lifeless lips
Painting wetness upon my skin
I desperately clung to innocence
But it led to his grab
A firm unyielding grasp
Drowning me
In his suffocating musk
And that foolish youth's disgrace
Would rob my voice of all command
And never did I lend again
The smile of a prouder time

The ashtray in my car is filled with spare change.

We would drive places

And you would tell me that ashtrays were pointless these days—

That I had found the perfect use for the vestigial compartment.

The very last time you were in my car

It was dark,

And we were parked in the back lot.

It was finally spring so all the windows were rolled down,

The smell of wet soil and cut grass mixing with fabric cleaner,

And I had a flower that I had grabbed from the ground.

We sat in the parked car

Our seatbelts still fastened,

And as you told me things I did not want to hear

My fingers worked in a frenzy,

Tearing the petals into tiny pieces,

Letting the silky shreds fall silently

Into my pile of quarters and dimes,

While I looked at you with steady eyes

And nodded in agreement.

Furious and infatuated

Behind a mask of unwavering poise.

A month later, the pink petals dried

Becoming a distinguished maroon

And slowly, they sank to the bottom of the ashtray.

It wasn’t for another two years,

When scrambling for change at a toll booth

That I saw them again,

This time barely recognizable—

Unsightly dried cinders,

Twitching and vulnerable in the open air.

I smiled and thought of you

And then drove along the highway

One hand on the wheel,

The other rummaging through my purse

Searching for spare change,

So I could protect the fragile wisps.

Firsts

I wonder how long 'til they find you
whimpering like a puppy
on their doorstep
as I walk away from

Christmas
Birthday
Day of School
Home run
Gold Medal
A
A+
kiss
Love
True love
Real job
big promotion
Marriage
Child
Gray hair


That I could never give you.

One

Does this mean I will never feel you
Kicking, moving, living, growing?
Waking up to fulfill midnight cravings
Monthly appointments awaiting your
Heartbeat
Nightly classes teaching me to breath
Sweet lavender or powder blue?
Learning how to truly love
Asking my mother everything
Giving you what I never had
Living vicariously through you
I cannot fathom the pain,
But I look forward to the gift
A gift I am not sure I will ever receive,
Now that I only have one.

________'s Never Prosper

The hell was he thinking...

He was the never the sharpest tack
or the smoothest operator...
just a knucklehead with straight white teeth.

Straight now, but not for long. Not for long
when she feels the shift, the gravity, the distance
and confronts him.

The hell was he thinking...

Obviously not that Humans mate for life,
like termites but lack the chitinous exo-armor
to protect our soft insides.

The hell was he thinking...

Clearly not that marriage means protection,
means trust, means companionship,
means loyalty, means fidelity.

The hell was he thinking...

Evidently not about the damage, the injury,
the mistrust, the collapse, the weight of 12 ounces
versus the weight of guilt.

The hell was he thinking...

Probably not about the possibility
of losing the person who promised to walk with him
bandaged hand in hand.

The hell was he thinking...
that he could get away with it
forever?

20/20

I close my eyes

Strong sinewy arms holding me tight
freddy and jason might terrorize others
but in his grasp at this moment
nothing can hurt me, I am safe

Nimble agile hands flick the baseball
the smell of leather, grass stains on my jeans
warm sunshine bathes us under the brilliant blue hue
a father-son tradition as old as any

Careful, steady wrists hammer in the nails
we build my escape from reality
gentle breezes caress my face, I am complete
heaven cannot be far so high in the sky

I open my eyes

I do not see power, strength, or reassurance in his arms
I see those arms that once comforted me

breaking my mother

I do not see love, warmth, or comfort in his hands
I see those hands that once taught me

betraying my family

I do not see decency, honesty, or fidelity in his wrists
I see those wrists that once freed me

blackening my soul

Living the American Dream

Penthouse apartment

looking down on the little people

who wish they could be me

sweat dripping down my face

wakes me from my daydream

heat really does rise

I blink sullen eyes

at a not so rectangular box called home

top floor

but not quite the penthouse

mother turns over and I

try

to drown out her snores

2 sisters, 1 brother

one mother

one bed

living check

to check

and foot to head

snore...snore

followed religiously by

4 tummies rumbling

somehow

I can not fathom

5 fish and 4 loaves feeding the masses

when

1 of each leaves my belly

so empty

don't worry baby

this is only temporary

meanwhile I am very

sure her eyes meant to look more believable

and my mind rather not have

raced back to her pleading

with land and Lord for just another week

4 A.M. alarm sounds

she's off to job number 1

and I

pretend to be asleep

Maneater

Seducing with your sultry ways

men are powerless before you,

charming them with golden hair

that pure mane betrays your nature.

While many falter at your feet

you'd just as soon walk away,

outrunning even Atalanta

you'd dare not fall for their golden apples.

Some may think they've found your fancy

cleverly clamoring for your attention

you dismiss them with hollow hope

in the guise of digits duplicitous.

They walk away to boast and brag

as if they had the lottery won,

if only they knew that your true numbers

were that of Revelation's beast

Fellowship

The hardest part was pretending
I didn’t know your secret.
Working days and nights
for weeks and months, a fellowship
corroding a marriage.
Leaving you at home
without a car, in a town
neither of us knew,
two chubby babies,
and Windows 97.
The hardest part was leaving you
pretending I didn’t know
how lonely you would be.

A choice

If you had a chance to see into the future
would you have made the same choice?
To be given the opportunity many years ago,
to take a walk in the shoes you wear today,
To see how it would be,
to see how you would be,
how you would feel.
To be able to know what
this whole medical school thing was truly about.
Maybe my choice would have been different?

The journey to this point seems like a flash of light,
everything spinning so fast,
applications, letters, interviews,
more applications, more letters, more interviews.
Getting so excited you almost didn't have time to think.
You are almost to that point,
something that you have always wanted,
something that you still want?

Everything just seemed to go by so fast,
but now you are here
and you must actually do it.
You have come so far,
one, nearly two, years down,
but is it too far to turn back?

People all say what a great opportunity,
what a great life you will have,
but will it be worth the day in and day out
I have to endure right now?

I guess we will never know,
Because that time machine has not yet been invented.
We cannot see into the future.
I guess we can wonder if this choice was right,
and think about how our lives now might be different,
But at the same time,
consider our future.

With a chance to wear the shoes we will wear ten years from now,
do we want to say that we were so close,
and then we just gave up?
Or do we want to say that we pushed through,
and followed our hearts,
because deep down we know,
this was the only choice,
that could truly satisfy those hearts.

Before I walked,
you held me up
Strong, supple.

When I started riding,
two point held with ease
as I crossed fences and streams.

In high school
you brought me first across the finish line
oars gliding smoothly
toward feathered freedom on frost bitten mornings.

In the desert heat of the Negev
you cushioned me as I fell from such great heights,
like Moshe and the Israelites.

In the ballroom,
you helped me glide across the floor
caminando, ochos y gauchos.

In bed at night,
I tossed and took you for granted
at every turn.

I can't ignore you anymore
I've finally listened to your cries for help,
but as I awaken to glimpses of Sheol each night,
I am reminded that I'm too late.

Visiting Steuben

We lie in bed on a warm night in august.

I breathe slowly, cautiously,

my grandmother in heaves

that make my hands break into a cold sweat.

My face is close to the back of her head

And wisps of her silver hair tickle my nose

But I am afraid to move.

Through the crown of unruly silver

I can see her white scalp

Speckled with sunspots

Glowing eerily in the moonlight.

It is foreign, fragile—

Not even an egg shell.

I look away, and wait for the next breath

And think of many years ago

When I lay in her bed

And gave her a nudge

For every snore.

I feel lost and alone, and sit up slowly,

gazing through the open window at the front yard,

the street below.

And somehow

The trees, the sidewalk, the air

were still quite the same.

So I find her cheek

Because this I know.

I press mine against it.

Skin on skin,

the scent of the her shampoo

floating around me.

And I am a young girl again

Waiting for her next snore.

knees

his slippers are soft and worn
through the soles from his slow,
painstaking shuffle around the house.
from the top of the stairs, i watch silently
as it takes him a minute to move
my four strides. i touch my knees.
from my lookout, i watch the top of his
grey head move slowly, every inch a taunt.
gripping two canes, knuckles tense,
he begins the quiet fight towards the stairs.


with guilty fingers i lace my sneakers,
and i wait.
his door finally clicks shut.
i bolt down the stairs,
throw open the door, and
run for my life.

Allow me.

To paddle me through the surf,
cupping brine and flicking it back
like a child in a sandbox…
as I duck dive beneath the last breaker.

To drive the gut across felted rubber,
sailing it precisely down the white line
like a glider down its flight path…
as I close the gap to the net.

To twist the crank shaft bolt,
advancing the old motor to top-dead-center
sprung like the firing pin on a Winchester…
as I match its timing to spark.

To guide an axe blade to its mark,
wrenching it out after each strike
removing knots from wood like amma did from my laces…
as I down the sick maple tree.

Ive used them.
For all things that make me me.
No wonder they shackle a man’s wrists
to take away his freedom.

Heart Failure

I resent that word
You have forgotten all that I did
For 98 years I was a life boat
Ready at every whim

Jet Engines preparing for take off
I aided you to escape
Turbines in Lake Victoria
Supplied all the Niles and beyond

Tributaries never uttered a word
All the inhabitants were fed
Even though blind to what lay beyond
I devoted myself to my work

Lub-dub, lub-dub

Narrow paths never phased me
And neither did the pollution you brought
And now you call me that word
Who is it that demanded so much?

Introduced poisons and disease
Careless about the years to come
Mindless, you left me for lovers to break
Oh, the guts to utter that word!

Once or twice I warned but in vain
When the turbines creaked
Kentucky gallops were heard
And Tennessee never lagged behind

But you never paid me no mind
Even when the sanitation trucks broke
I devoted myself to work
And now you call me that?

Lubb-dub, lubb-dub, lubb-dub

Answered your every call
without discrimination, distributed all you brought me to send
How dare you give that name!
When you had all fun at my expense

Lub.....dub, lub.....dub, lub.....dub

My Potential

I can extend pure happiness with my doings

Sweetness and joy emigrate from my borders

They taste like candy to the ears

I show my Parents that I love them

Like the scent of burning incense to nostrils

My praises bring joy to Their ears

Out of me can emerge malice and arrogance…

My boasts, careless sparks that ignite an entire forest,

Spread like wildfire through fields with impunity

My actions can pierce others--

A sharp double edged-sword through the spirit…

I have no concern as to how you feel

My expressions emanate from the heart,

whether jubilant or grievous

For what comes in does not taint,

but what flows out can adulterate

Like the small rudder that steers vast ships,

What I possess can move people

I know that I am a hypocrite--my actions are never consistent

I spew perpetual contradictions,

A spring producing pure and salt water

I am as small as bits

Bits into the mouths of horses can turn the whole animal

And I, I alone can turn you…

36"- 24"-...40"?!

You hate me

try to make me

behave and just fit

been fighting my span for ages

me?

the epitome of width

baring my fertility like many unsung rifts

bearing the seed of your wars continuous

so

loathsome and yet so undeniably

perfect

I supply the edge that is femininity

your courage lives here

tapping into millions of years of evolution

Your

intentions lie within my earth

I am equally wide and deep

you grow

yet consistently

retreat to the warm security consumed by me

viscous thing that completely sustains

old men appreciate me with young eyes

and young women envy me while they sweat to

erase me

lying to themselves in 45-minute intervals

no ma'am

i don't need no low-fat protein shake

my blend is genetic

ain't no music I cant make

ain't no rhythm that slips past me unnoticed

catching around my periphery

like expertly controlled concentricity

hula hoops

fear me

and I am you

despite these skin tight jeans

and I refuse

to be hidden

Imagination's embrace

Sing to me you bright little bee

Dance along those dandelion seeds

Above the crimson tips of dragon’s fire

Doused by giant flakes of winter’s ire

A delicate scaffold of talcum white

Strewn across an endless night

Lighting up those parts of brain

Temporal near Sagittal plane

O’ smile with me great monkey king

Unleash the brilliant flashes of Sting

And when she stares we’ll drop our chin

In symbolic nod to say we listen

And when it’s time we’ll intertwine

Those circuits of our prefrontal mind

Him

He is unidentified mysterious in every way
lives spent battling this unseen foe
he is quantifiable measurable
and in every way real
he cannot be compared amongst his peers
some use him to get attention others for pity
but to most he is the villain
despised by those he encounters
most have personally experienced him
the few with CIPA spared the grief

He can be slow
leaves changing on the side of the highway oblivious
uncaring to the plight of those scurrying below
because he knows
as has been
as is
as will be
the leaves will change and he cannot be stopped

He can be fast
the leaves adorn branches forming a mosaic
nature’s paintbrush slate wiped clean with
a single strike of energy from the heavens lighting
a fiery inferno whose blaze ferociously consumes
everything in its path, unstoppable by man
for all the money in the world cannot
impede the beat of his drum
for he knows
as has been
as is
as will be
zeus’s bolt will strike and he cannot be stopped

He cannot be stopped.

Always Mine

My baby is growing, her oranges are ripen
She’s become a woman, see how they bud
They bud like roses through her velvet silk
They are yours, not theirs

My oranges are ripen, they as luscious as the fire
The fire that feeds your soul
Stop; stop don’t touch
They are mine, not yours

My oranges are ripen, its pulps are like bread
The bread that feeds your soul
Stop; stop don’t cry
They are mine, mine to share

The oranges are ripen, its roots are germinating
The roots that feeds on my soul
Stop; stop don’t stretch
They are mine, still mine

The oranges are ripen, its seeds are like parasites
The parasites that feeds on my soul
Stop; stop don’t spread
They are mine, always mine

Hazel

Helpless, but for

your two beautiful hazel orbs

darting around as would fireflies

dance in the midnight sky

What a perfect being!

That we know nothing about,

the front door's locked,

there's only a window to her soul

Reminding for a moment

of a time so perfect, pure

Surely, a glance from her

could Medusa's victims cure

Yet time marches on

and will take innocence its prisoner

turning hazel into grey

creasing youth with the feathered feet

'Til one day

a reminder comes

that love knows no end,

with drops of hazel just like her own

So Good

You ask me how it feels

to touch it
the very top of the tuft
of your hair
just out of the shower
conditioned
blown dry, on a light setting,
all by yourself.

It is soft
as the inside of a cloud
smooth
as the silent glass of a morning lake
cool
as a whisper from heaven.


But, Mommy, how does it feel?


It feels
so good.
May it be the last thing I feel
before I die.

The Journey

All aboard the conductor yells,
yes I hope
all come aboard.

The passengers must take this journey,
Through the webs and tangled furies.

They merge with others on their way,
To provide the answer for which we stay.

Too little red or too much white,
For this will likely determine our plight.

We wait with wide eyes to see who is one this train,
Piercing through the film of life
The conductor yells none must remain.

The passengers file out in a sea of purple-red,
To tell us news of which we might dread.

Poems about the Body

Great job today, everyone.  I hope you enjoyed reading and discussing your poems.  Here are three poets who have written about the body.  Read them (and we will read them again in class), and check the sidebar for a prompt for your writing this week.  Remember to post early and often, to give us all a chance to read and comment on your work before the next Wednesday...

• Her my body, by Bob Hicok
• Mastectomy, by Wanda Coleman
• Large Intestine, by Anna Swir

Thanks again for a great class today.  See you next week.

White hot

White hot

my baby burns
not understanding,
eyes imploring
helpless, only watching, waiting
hush, my angel, hush

Creatinine

Symptoms began.
They’re good for us, we thought
We can make a difference.
They escalate as the fuselage pressures up
When the wings frosted at 30,000.
They never let up as rubber scrubbed tarmac
hard as my damp collar scrubbed my neck.
Help was on the way.
Sure.

Somehow coconuts stay cool on the inside
Mocking the warm volatile fluids that
curse through our veins below.
We sampled them and moved on.
To water, leaf, grain, blood and earth.

Our minds were not our own,
our intentions were not our own…
Forget about our lunches.

Birthdays and death days didn’t shake our symptoms
and the only things we could rely on
were unreliable reagents warped by the heat
and that the silent killer would not stop
till all the village
read 2 mg/dl.

Ignorant to this, our silver kings celebrated as their
wooden pawns burned there…but this is
Not about us anymore.
These symptoms may never resolve.

A Soul's Fever

With every step forward my temperature rises
As does the blazing sun every morning
Why do I feel this heat?
I’ve felt its persistence until the day I was born
He tells me that there is a cure
That I don’t have to endure this fever anymore
Just take this meal and acknowledge Me
But what does this mean; how can I be sure?
Eagerly I consume it and then take the cup
I feel better…
I guess. I mean
He promised right?
He assured me that I would finally be able to rest
But something is wrong
I feel heat again
So much more than before
and it consumes me.

At nearly 2 in the morning

The road is clear.

Dried salt from last week’s snow

Makes the pavement glow white under streetlights.

It is sterile, calm, predictable.

I turn the radio off,

And for the first time all day I feel alone, still.

Blank store windows and empty parking lots fly by at 60 miles per hour.

The simplicity of the highway at night stands in stark contrast

To the chaos of the day.

The steering wheel feels solid and sure in my hands,

And I feel as if here I know my niche.

There are no doubts

No orders.

No protocols.

I am.

This is the peaceful delirium that comes

Between the peaks of beautiful and frenzied fever.

The smooth glass surface of still water

Masking riptides and whirlpools below,

High winds above.

I am gliding on my stomach,

Convinced that I am sandwiched between the disorder of the world.

The realization that I am smooth sailing toward a red light

And a car crossing the intersection

Destroys the fragile stillness

As I pound my foot into the brake

Sending out an ugly ripple of obligation.

Tires make a noise that I have only heard in movies,

And I am moving fast

Toward the driver’s side of a silver Toyota.

These hands that will heal

Gripping the wheel before me

As if blanched knuckles

Will extinguish momentum.

Somehow I miss.

And my car is still for a moment

Misplaced and askew in the intersection.

And I cannot meet the gaze of the man

Who narrowly escaped my war path

Because tomorrow I might shake his hand

As he sits in a loose fitting gown on an exam table.

Because in my delirium, I nearly forgot do no harm.

Because this limbo is my escape.

Succubus Kiss

Remaining flame
What little left
my spirit succumbs
and then my faith
a sordid bloom
above my skin
a putrid wisp of sticky gloom
it clings to me
unyielding barnacles
a febrile mass I cannot shake
with dying breath
I curse the lust
as I recall her frigid touch
skin so smooth
that ghastly smile
to deliver to me
eternity
sending flesh
to depths below
to leave this broken shadow of a soul

Facebook Fever

Sitting in a lecture hall full of faces, isolated.

Watching as my watch seems to slow

tick tock…tick……tock……….tick…………….tock.

Waiting to get my hands on my laptop,

Like an addict waiting for my fix.

Plug in, turn on, log in.

Friends’ lives populate my computer.

Messages, wall posts, status updates. ,

Celebrating birthdays, engagements, weddings, promotions, new babies

across continents.

Misfortunes posted on status messages and for a brief moment ,

Schaudenfreude, I scold myself.

Tending virtual crops, feeding virtual fish

I feel an obligation to farm, to feed, to be a sorority sister with only a few clicks.

After a long day, these are my friends.

Their profile pictures greet me more gently

Than the aggressive smiles, hellos, and hugs I endure each day.

75 million people farm on facebook by latest count.

I wonder how many people farm in our heartland.

How many farmers suffer in our recession….our depression?

Ugh, I turn back to the smiling profile pictures.

Fever 103 point one

Please excuse the medical references, and if you are unsure about the Laa-Laa reference rest assured I am confident our colleague Wai Lee will be able to explain.

A psychedelic feeling, a natural state of
Delirium, delirium, delirium a fun word to
Say a word over and over, and it becomes
Meaningless, meaningless just like
Hummers are cheap in oil crisis, simply
Supply and demand, the simple truth of
Life…..wait where am I?

Hallucinations blurring the line of reality
As powerful as the shrooms of Amsterdam
Red light visions these are not
Instead, fear, confusion, and
The heat, the heat overwhelms the senses
C & A delta free nerve endings on fire
A blaze unseen, unheard, but what sense is
What is a sense, and how common is it
Intangible, yet so real, as real as
The beautiful lights, a sea of yellow
Twinkling, like the smiling face of Laa-Laa
She whispers to me, a beautiful sound
Soothing, yet my heart races, churns
B2 receptors fire, decreased uterine tone
Simple truth, realized in the time taken for
A butterfly beats his wings, can cause
Me, all about me.

I’m driving on the wrong side of the road

cremation

out in the atlantic
cooled by the breath of the sky
float my stars.
i'm waiting for orion to put down his sword
and notice his new sisters
quietly sizzling beneath his feet.
one hundred years ago
i was zero
one hundred years later
i exploded in the thousands.
my last step was not
my last breath but
the epiphany of my melting brain.

Longitude

Young and old you have befriended
Black and white you have tormented
East and west you have travelled

The rich are at your mercy
The poor can never be too poor for you
You take some, you give others another chance

Which one you prefer I can't tell
You have seen it all, a part of things ugly and beautiful
No wonder you, fever are as cold as winter; as hot as hell

FEVER

How fast we forget
The huddles that propelled
So easy to forget

The white glove opens the door
A parcel for you Miss

My eyes continue the search

And then it Hit
So sudden it bit
My belly queasy with flutters
Shivers down my spine
Fragility in the betraying knees
Inescapable flushes draw a sweat
Insides twisted in a quiver

Miss, A chair to sit

But I was gone
Like a bird out of a cage
Daddy do you see
And unaided I flee
Daddy did you see

Sprinkled dimples on cheeks
Stunning sparkles in the eye


Now I hope you see
All the mighty seas I crossed
This fiery creature that consumes
Earthly Dragons annihilating me

How quickly we forget

A light sweat on my face
In my man's arms I rest
My silent shouts he reads
And a sparkle in the eyes I see.

I promise not to forget.

A Twisted Nature

The invading heat that just never relents.

It swarms and suffocates with its arms

pulling you into its center

where you fee there is no escape.

It encircles its way through your

entire body and mind.

It won't give in and it won't let you go.

It twists and it pulls and it surrounds.

You can't do what needs to be done,

you can't handle the stresses

or the chores that remain untouched.

It is only you in this tunnel.

You fight with your last bit

of energy to make it

to a place where

you can finally

let your body

and your

mind go

and

simply

just

be.

An Infidel's Fever

This is precisely why woman

Does not trust women

Because If she

Queen of the faithful

Can feel this way

Immersed in an indelible ink

That marks her

Scarlet

Letters written to old flames

Fires running amok like

Water is just a figment of imagination

Arson

So addicting and dangerous

So hot

She dare not see the face

Of her adversary

All her many masks

Adorned with the deceit of

Many smiles of Cerberus

So demonstrably trifling

When eyed with true love

They would surely crumble

Dying an obvious and violent death at the feet of truth

Recurrent theme

Circling incessantly

Like a sexy vulture

More and more

Disturbing

Closer and closer

To pick the flesh from the bones

The flesh is its siren

Silly misguided sailor

Lost in the mist of loneliness

And

Easily led astray by something so familiar

As the promise of proximity

Infidelity

an out of body experience

She peers on

As it pickles her virtue

Hypertonic solution

Deceit

Sucking all the moisture out of her rightousness

To feed the fat belly of lies

That has taken up residence

Just south of her heart

And just north of that fever that must remain unspoken

Shamefully

She longs for a match

For that is all that is needed

At this point

Midnight Fever

Two fiery red bones beckon

hurdling in their destined course.

Leaving clammy hands in their wake,

they show their bearers no remorse.

There we stand, with sweat and chills,

mind is numb and thoughts are still.

All we can do is stand and wait,

and let objects control our fate

Wanting, wishing, willing, we take respite

in intoxication and delight,

and though, at times, fate is friend not foe,

finding favor only feeds the fever.

The break of dawn breaks its spell

releasing victims from its hell,

and though some may scream with shouts of joy,

it's nothing more than the fever's ploy.