We lunched
by the seashore
viewing memories
in the fast moving clouds
before time ran out
and you had to leave me
there
with my own inventions...
Amusement
in the form of laughter
overtook me
how light and energized
you make me
the mere sound of your voice
seems to waft on the smallest
of breezes
scented with the air
that you possess
natural and deliciously inviting...
You take my breath away.
I want to sink into the deep
heat of you
I want to burn liquid each time
we rise together
in the dark ink of midnight
I want to run wild against
the blue of the sea
and dive into
drive into
the well of desire
Sentimentalities
that ring in and out
of every ear
willing to listen
but not I
Seemingly deaf
in an uproarious world
flagrant indecision
and violent submissions
Im confused in the rhetoric
the emotion of guilt
I would just rather sail
into the quiet storms
of a malevolent sea
The tunnel was filled
with hope
for a better day
but the conveyor belt
that brought you in
had jagged edges
and I was too afraid
to embark on such a journey
My love is like
a spring garden
whose scented blooms
bring me mirth
and hope for a future
bright with promises...
My love is like
a great soaring bird
whose spread wings
take it far journeying
across the countryside
bringing me adventure
in the buss of a single kiss...
My love is like
an artist's palette
whose melding colours
paint a bright picture
with untold fantasies
that bring smiles
to my imagination
Words that fly
hitting hard
the sensibilities
over mind and matter
then
what's the matter
with innuendo
and nuance
why cant something
so sweet just be tasted
then released
back into the wild...
why must there be hatred
when all the world
is starving
for love
and affections...
Why must words sting so harshly
when communications
just don't meet
the expectations
just the dejection
of a world filled
with misunderstanding
I could be a cloud....one that was fluffy and white..complete with a snow
quality that drifted from one substance to another...one that brought with it
the brilliance of storms...one that rained down on unsuspecting peoples...one
that blocked the sunlight, one that covered the realm...one that ruled in
essence the waters that poured...one that gave comfort to an unsuspecting
territory.
I could be a bird...one whose colors were brilliant...who in peoples eyes
appeared as a vision of hope...a vision of loveliness...a vision brought on
by the consumption of drugs...I could be a drug, one that hypnotizes
and
relishes....one that sedates and opiates...one that gets into the blood
and
burns all the way into heaven....I could be a drug, one that is forbidden,
unlawful and delicious...a drug that captivates and overdoses, one that makes
you vomit all the impurities...one that racks you...rocks you and brings you
full tilt in a world full of questions...
I could be a wing, flown and spread....I could be a whore...open and spread...my cunt bearing the scars of tomorrow...one
without hope or sorrow.
I could be a cunt, bitchy and loud...squeezing and proud...I could be whomever I needed to be...just me.
I could be a famous poet, but that wont happen until Im dead and then they
will read what I once thought to be profound...that I once thought to be
deeply written, and it will be forever inscribed in the minds of those who
thought they knew me.
Did they ever hear my cries or me laughing?
I could be laughter....obnoxious guffaws, boisterous tee-hees, undeniable
roars creating havoc in the quiet countryside...I could be subtle, nay, not
in this life.
But I could be out...the loudest proudest dyke upon the earth..one who walks
with her head up high...one who sits with legs open wide....see if you can
see who I really am...inside these weary eyes
I pretend to be no one and yet, I am no one. I wanted to be hers...a lover, a
wife...but she sees me as not and therefore I am -----not. My feelings don't
matter....to her. She works her life as if it were her own and I don't want
to take from her that which is hers, I just wanted to share...do I dare?
I could be a whistle..shrill, loud enough to break crystal, screeching loud
enough to bring dogs running, loud enough to stop advances from the constructions crews for a planet that needs
restructuring.
I could be the waves upon whose sailing ships have come to pass...whose cresting might floods the beaches, whose
undulating whitecaps sing the song,
the song of sirens, begging passengers on wooden ships to come to the islands
in search of undulating hips of whores bought and paid for...I could be the
water you drink, the water you choke on, the water in your veins, but I would
rather be the drug that saves, the drug that makes you higher than the
highest kite, the drug that sedates and opiates...the drug that is taboo...forbidden in the eyes of the law..and
what about those laws..the ones
that hate, that ridicule, the laws that are for some and not for others, the
laws for the poor, how they differ than those for the rich. Eat the rich, or
are you afraid of the fat content, will it choke your veins, make you lethargic, make you ill with contempt?
I want to be the drug, the one you swallow...the one that opens your legs,
the one that makes you beg for unilateral acceptance...the drug that amazes
and dazes...the drug that contorts and consorts with the escorts of some
modern day romance.
I want to be the alchemist, the soothsayer of this era...I want to create and
paint the volumes that will go down in herstory...I want to be the placebo,
the cure-all, the antidote, the drug you love.
Open your hearts, your arms, your legs...let me in.
she cries out
in the middle of the night
and no one hears her
the music is deafening
and the world outside
louder than the dreams
in her head
Loneliness plagues her
but still no one comes near
and still she bears
the scars of emptiness
having lived in the shell
too long
lived in the confines of a bubble
that shouldered
her from the living...
The windows
all fogged
with condensation
all blurred
with disfiguration
the dreams turn
to nightmares
hideous and weeping
she finds herself
masqued
knowing she once lived
amongst the thriving
now only surviving
in a madness
she can call her own
Stubborn
as the day is long
with an argumentative
streak that climbs
onto my back
scrunching and paining
under the weight
of her small peignoir
Says its not much
but I see her cringe
when she tries to stand
More of my jokes
to try and lighten the mood
Laughing, she wonders how
she ever lived without me
Worried that it would ever
be again...
So, its off to the Emergency Room
on a Saturday
before a religious holiday
because I cant think
of anyone
I would rather sit and wait
with....
Time is fleeting
everywhere else
but in an emergency room
where it hangs and
waits with warehouse stapled germs
She rests her head upon my shoulder
protecting her
my arm slung lightly across her
peoples come in and turn away
afraid to see that we
love one another
so completely
afraid that their own lives
dont mirror the happiness
screaming out from us
She sits and lambastes
the lack of politics
in a decadent societal
worship gallery
You know the place
where the cognac swirls
and
hot blooded bodies
compete with
contempt for mere mortals
Sneering at the mundane
wondering if anyone there
is real
or just part of the imagination
disfiguration with contemplation
thinking they are way above
all else...
I think its safe inside my corner
where my colours just dont show
lest they know me for who I am
an anarchist in the making
If you have enjoyed Carol Marie's Poetry, then please be certain to e-mail her at carybehr[at]comcast.net and thank her for posting her Work.
Click here for a list of all of Carol Marie's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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