She swirled in a whirlwind fire storm that fought all norms,
Disavowed unconformed commerce for other problems, got it, solved them,
She’s on to conduct, constructs, chatbots in cyber, quick wit, always slick on a cypher, tidbits, slips sacred sanctimony off antipathy in geometry, defies all logic and astounds me.
As a whirlwind wonder that wanders dust storms through encounters, of what I am grateful for is her countenance.
She’s broad as shore to shore,
hips as wide as America,
she shines, sea to shining sea,
loving a lost cause and hopeful,
falling fanatically for an abstraction,
half-baked idea that never fully form,
failing to see reality for the potential at the core.
Out of favor,
Vestigial heart palpatation,
Granting transparency to
A response to being hurt further. #healing
Posted in Love, Poetry, Traditional, Workshop
Tagged best, breakup, err, fail, forgive, harsh words, heartache, human, life, loser, losers, Love, worst
And the altar of our love was wrought in the dusky darkness of a parking lot,
where the sun and the moon came to light our world
when two lips that spent years in the service of speaking went silent
and sought only the sweet serenity
of seeking the other,
satiation in the subtlety of sparingly pecking and tenderly touching,
our tongues tearing past the safety of mouths to taste eternity of the soul expressed in the nearness and the love that could not be suppressed.
Posted in Love, Poetry, Slam
You were serenity and defiance wrapped in a quilt of tattoos and tenacity,
Calamity was your calling card and I should have known better but I couldn’t help it,
you kissed strangers and left me wanting,
even more so in your engagement that you would eventually fulfill,
but you let me bare your breasts and in turn I bared my scars to you.
We ate our insecurities with our late-night breakfast and never made it to dessert,
you were much too beguiling for banana cream pie,
incandescent only in the candlelight that let me keep on burning for you;
we took a left at Albuquerque and arrived in Antarctica,
late night texts turned from arbitration to arbitrary.
I became an artifact of your once-wily ways now lost to time and matrimony,
A photo long deleted on a phone from two lives ago;
I never got my fairy tale,
Just grim reality,
Where hearts are broken every day,
And then some day you meet the grave.