poetry

Loner

| mantra

I sit alone…

In the space of hereafter and nevermore…and

the colors of rust and Ambrosia.

I sit on the line of 3/4 of inch and a 4th of a millimeter

…in spaces of low ceilings and high floors..

I sit..boxed and cornered..within smells of rememberance..

Noise & chatter

Along creased bed sheets and fur blankets

Yet..I sit alone…in the spaces of hardwood & drywall

…covered windows with slim sun rays

I sit within limits and itinerarys

…bells and whistleblowers

The clock will soon cease and I will still sit…

alone

My Belly

| mantra
pudge

Dare I say that I love my belly…

“I love my Belly..”

Although, I haven’t had one in awhile.  I do now…. though brief; primarily from a monthly bloat…. but a BELLY nonetheless.

A Belly
-of Fullness
-of comfort
-of laxness

A Belly reflective of too much wine and cake
A Belly of too much laughter and late night folly

A nice bulge of roundness and suppleness..looseness and slouch

A plucked freedom from strictness and conservativeness. Relieved of restraints and firmness.

No high planks or sit ups. Not tight or tucked. A belly, my belly.

Out of my box for a moment…

A defiant Belly that says..”I don’t care right NOW! I’m tired, I’ll care (maybe) tomorrow.

A Belly that waits for TV and would rather eat than starve.

Plump and full, content and resurrected..For now..

I’ll be back on my self-proclaimed, perfectly created, road of perdition tomorrow…

(Maybe)

Silly Little Fishy

| mantra
fish-n-cat1-800x549
Fish and cat Image credit: Unknown



Silly Little Fishy

Out the tank you leaped..ignorant and deaf
buck eyed and free

Thirsty for more..bigger, deeper, seas.

Hungry for what you “thought” was on the other-side of the glass

Silly Little Fishy

“The lake has dried up..there’s no water here and the oxygen isn’t that good either.”

I watch as you gasp and flap.  The shine of your scales begin to fade….open and
close your gills blow…

“Dammit!..Little fishy! I told you that the lake dried up. There’s no fresh water here!”

I scoop you fast, and drop quickly into the tank.  Shyly, and breathlessly you thank me. We both laugh at your foolishness.

Silly Little Fishy..Don’t cha’ know that Big Cats like me… Eat little fish like you. You may wanna stay in your tank.




RED DOOR

| mantra
Image credit: DesignBuzz

Breaking, cracking, sinking, sunk.

Dunked, and stuck.

Stagnate and unmovable.

Red Door. Locked. No entry.

Neon green. Bright and effervescent.

Feverish, flailed and flipped

Back door. Enter. Unseen, Uncared, gaped and black.

Unashamed and free

They all scuffle through

A busy highway..the bustling metro…a crowded stairway. Locked and chained.

Crippled and drunk

stiff drinks and creased pants

lipsticks and compacts

short skirts and broken zippers

clean mirrors with foggy reflections

a peek from the corner

Midnight black lash, curled and fluffed

Her eyes, dark lined and smudged

an out-of-place mole, Dangled peacock feather

and fringed waist

a rip of netted stocking and red patent leather shoes

Butterfly Wings flap at shoulders

wet chins

sour lips

and dirty collars

empty pockets

dew dropped glasses

bare floor

silent jukebox

her arm in my sleeve..

vacant stairway, empty metro and deserted highway

One key

Red Door…Open

STUCK

| mantra

.……I never meant for you to stay…But, you have.

I never thought you to be what I wanted…I only planned for you to be (just) what I needed for a short time. You were meant to be a band-aid, a temporary vice, a handkerchief ..a meaningless yet special secret.

You were meant to stay invisible… far away from my view…but now (YOU) are all I see.

I never really meant for you to stay…But, you have.

Stuck.

You’re stuck in my thoughts. Stuck between the pages of my work. Stuck in my morning, and cemented in my night. Trapped in my sheets and pillowcases. On top of me when I shower..hovering when I apply my lipstick.

You have attached yourself to my temples, lying along my forehead. Twirled around my bang. Curled within my brow. You crowd my space, my thoughts my words, my breath…

You’re here..trapped between my fingers, encased in my fingernails.

You’re right here..smeared on my thighs, shined on my shoulders, on the inside of my elbows. You’re pasted on my wrists…Ruby red on my hip. Your blue on my toe and white at my lips. Cool and moist on my belly, lined at my breast and pierced to my nipple.

You’re here..Right here at my ear lobes. Dangled around my neck. Dripped along my sides..You’re here..Right here..

Nestled between my legs and rested on my back.

You’re here..Right here.. tugging my hair and holding my hand, fastened and lodged deep into my chest

You’re all over me..Coloring me, Marking me, Naming me, and Calling me..

“YOURS”.