Sad Hurricane

Sad when the hurricane
must make the choice
to censor its howling winds
clip its powerful wings.

And thus fade gracefully
wearing the mantle of normalcy
of love and decency, of shame
oppressive with heated cheeks.

Contrary to accepted legend
there was no temptation or
grand seduction cascading
into the last downfall

Rather a decision to slow down
let human fingers split your storm
shrug off immortal armor
permit mortals to love you

Not as worshipers from afar
prayed and pled at your command
but as equals, or nearly so
this requires a demise of myth

A return, a decrease, a downgrade
a self-desecration traded for love
Will you love the captured whirlwind
once it has lost its powers?

Weep for the hurricane, its eye
has dried its only tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pretty and...

She likes her boys
pretty and stupid
I collect cracked men
shatter them at will
to work in mosaics
they are desolate, I am dissolute
all together we are debauchery
in its finest hour

Aren't you just
the cleverest thing, trying so hard
to flash your eyes
innocence notwithstanding
unable to withstand the game
A woman can always-
everyone has a tell, a price
bet the substance of soul
the blush of your face
the way you look away

The fey lady's chariot comes, but still
Mab's just a charmer who
never quite follows through
until the climactic finale
Oh, the lies she tells, boy
to get you on your back

And aren't we a pair of aces?
you must be hearts
and I must be diamonds
unless we're being ironic again
you're cotton candy
and its cavities
I'm a polarizer, mesmerizer
circus freak sympathizer

Call a spade for what it is
a dish served up stone cold
between revenge and dessert
Atalanta un-tricked

a blackened, twisted heart
hanging by two metal threads
love turned upside down
to propagate hate

Call a spade the shovel
the tool to dig deep
dissect, damage, despoil
as only the Morrígan could.

If they had but known each other
holding hands so small
what a winning team of
women you can never scorn
One to put you to sleep
let a nightmare swish her tail in your mind
erasing all 'hope' and 'love'
Three-in-One to keep you down
embattled, tangled with fear
ravens circling your head

You like your mind
pretty and stupid
Mab collects cracked dreams
and Morrígan shatters them at will
to feed on mosaic-souls
of the desolate and dissolute
all together it is destruction
in its finest hour

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
What? April is National Poetry Month!

Fruit

The orchard knows:
we are not feeling this
the world is not
falling in on itself
trying to understand
why it hates the sinner
and loves the sin

Forget the Union, Jack
the scabs you've flicked
are growing right back
checking themselves in to stay
I am always A-1/Ace/FlyingHigh/FreeandFine/OK

you've left me plum
juice drops like
quiet bruises on my skin
At least, that's what
a loving hand would be
instead of my mimicking vine
I think all of this
to certain death:

You are not the heat
I want to push on, the
weight I want to lift, that
invading-filling piece
struggling towards a
mini-apocalypse in the sheets
but you will do for now

No sabes como te has metido
...this good?
Since I was born
There are crows
swimming in the reservoir
black-bear black backstroking through white
my hair tracing diagrams on your chest
you can neither
understand nor remove

Athena knows what it's like
to have this sight
from birth we come marching
to the edge of psychosis
hold hands and
dip our necks in
spit-and-shine
clean the swine
fill our nostrils
slick with brine

we are not kind women
but we are the kind
who choke on love
and swing through puppet lives
watching each other
give accidental tugs
as we weave our
shimmering strings.

You've left me peach
swollen with emptiness
coreless, stemless
Try to keep my juice
my stain
on your lips and skin
but I am pull-the-root
float-the-river
jump-the-vine
ripe to fall

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

Zephyr

If you throw me
high enough
release me fully
into the reaching arms
of the rising, waiting wind
I swear that I can fly.

Do not fear for me:
I am neither
foolish nor brave; just know
the wind is my mother.
Her hurricane kiss
is my welcome home.

With her there is
no last gasp,
no first scream;
only the song, the banshee wail,
the resounding battle cry
striking the shocked night sky.

I would no one follow me
in my ascent, for the wind
will not bleed
nor be wounded by sharpest sword.
And I, a rising zephyr, can breathe
even the thinnest air.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

I know, me actually commenting on a poem? Whence has my secrecy deserted me? I just wanted to say that this is a deliberately mystical, melodramatic poem. That's it.

Step onto my poembook, said the poet to the reader...poof! <-- More Poems