*

*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Illusions

Pablo Picasso: Girl Before a Mirror, 1932

I try on words like
 clothes in a bargain basement
department store
Under the harsh lights
my bare feet on grimy, threadbare carpet
I imagine a perfect fit
Beauty
One look in the mirror shatters
the illusion
Excess verbiage
Underdeveloped ideas
Loose phrases hanging off the body
The words looked so much sexier
in my head than
on the paper
With a sigh, I hang them back up
with all the other rejects.


Don't Poke the Tiger (A Cautionary Tale [Tail?])

Lady Ravendale, a Steampunk Girl by DPI Studios

Perhaps it was her uncanny feats of gymnastic swordsmanship

without messing her hair or popping her corset

or perhaps it was only fortuitous pheromones

but the moment young Felix Francis Fussbudget V lay eyes upon 

the lovely lass Lady Ravendale

he was totally and eternally smitten.

The feeling was mutual.

Luck with with the lad, as Lady Ravendale’s beloved pet tiger, 

Aloysius Fishbreath, took an instant liking to Felix,

for previous suitors had found themselves shredded

like cabbage heads for a carnivorous coleslaw.

Mrs. Millicent Filomena Fussbudget, long suffering wife of 

the Grim and Righteous Reverend Felix Francis Fussbudget IV, 

did not, however, approve of the impending union.

“The girl is haughty and proud, naughty and loud,”

 Mrs. Fussbudget decried. 

“And she dresses herself like an armadillo!  

Felix will marry her over my dead body!”

That evening, the Somewhat Less Grim but still Righteous 

Reverend Felix Francis Fussbudget IV performed the marriage

 of his son Felix Francis Fussbudget V and the Lady Ravendale.

Their pet tiger, Aloysius Fishbreath, was the ring bearer.

He was still licking his chops upon the altar.


Friday, June 1, 2012

Too Young

Little girls lost
Stumbling in the middle school maze
Dazed
Braces and bras
Awkward and powerful
Stuck between Barbies and birth control pills
Summer lemonade stands and summer lovers
Looking for suburban supermen
to fly us away
take us anywhere but where we were
Magic men
to perform an alchemy
transform us
We found instead snot nosed boys
with dirty fingernails
men with wandering hands
and dirty minds
The music promised
lipstick and leather
adrenaline fueled dreams
We knew the words like
our own heartbeats
Sang them like a prayer
a supplication
Waiting for a divine god, goddess
to answer as we waited
for our confidence to grow
with our breasts
We watched the wild ones
studied them with awe and envy
and a little fear
Denim and leather
Mullets and swagger
We didn't know if we wanted to
be them
or be their girlfriends
Barracudas or
butterflies
but we ached to be free.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Friday Music Prompt, Rock Hard (Suzi Quatro tribute w/ a bit of Heart)

Nature's Music

source
Serenity surrender to restless ruminations
I return to the feral forest where rests make music's metre
Wooden sun bleached boards carry me through sighing Cypress
Moments and measures play longer by the cadence of the creek
Waterstriders wade like tiny persons paddling
Raucous red bellied woodpecker spies russet red tailed hawk
Bullfrogs burp; spring beauties blush. Senses soar like swallowtails.