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Literature Text
i have ginger hands,
sandpaper skin,
tapioca nipples.
i wish my pores
were mestiza freckles.
no, no, no, they're not.
they are just pores:
acne aftermath.
i'm going for the truth here,
uploading unmanipulated
close up images
of my current age - 39.
by the way,
what do i look for
in a man?
i have no format or template.
but would you leave me in peace
at daytime?
so i can write poetry,
bake, talk to flowers...
and at night, would you
seduce me? i would very much
like you to.
your turn.
© 02.June.2012
Literature
Coalescence in (and of) Poetry
Chatoyant stargazer, you with
skin as opulent as spring itself
hair a realm where fairies roam
limbs redolent of riverbed soil
lead me to the illusive seams
of this halcyon of gossamer dreams
over orion and past the eye of god
Grandiloquent desiderata, you are
Literature
Nicknames
i. Brevity Girl
Brevity Girl
and her hero, Postcard Man,
write radio spots that channel dead lives
to distracted ears.
These are their superpowers:
Brevity Girl finds power in paradox,
and says most with least.
Postcard Man is a writing machine,
a work horse with tireless enthusiasm
and infinite patience for the sidekick who can’t keep up.
ii. The Queen of Snark
Queen Snark graces few with her presence.
Like any proper queen,
she doesn’t mingle with the riffraff
proffering too big smiles and weak handshakes.
Queen Snark is a meteorologist sensitive to rain,
who keeps an umbrella handy
when the mood is too dark for sarcasm.
i
Literature
how to be my lover
i.
look me in the eyes and count the stars
that you see reflecting in their
faltering irises as my
pupils dilate to show you what’s inside.
ii.
hear the symphony that is my body:
the clicking of my tongue as I pull at
the hem of my shirt,
the silent whispers of my breath as I
exhale my butterflies,
the war drum beating of my heart
as it hangs upon my sleeve.
iii.
feel my hand tucked tightly
between the ridges and gaps
of your calloused palm like a puzzle piece
that doesn’t quite fit.
(leave your fingerprints along my spine
so that I may find you the day
you become lost.)
iv.
taste my name on your
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would you dare spill who you honestly are to a person you just met online? a woman tries online love-hunting without deceptive tactics. quiet time today which doesn't come often.
"The title alone makes this poem worth the read, but it's also a good look at what online honesty really could be. It's fun, creative and gives a tantalizing flash of the risque."
© 2012 - 2024 wispy-blue
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