Garden in Lust

“When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited.” ~ Ramakrishna

1.
I’m a star
blooming just for you,
can’t you see?

2.
I love the feel of you
in my hand, the sun
kissing your skin, my mouth
imagining the taste of you.

3.
can you see me now,
my petals growing luscious
for your eyes alone?

4.
let’s curl up
under the dark sky,
never blue

5.
for passion
flowers, I do like
a wild bee

 

the garden bits that bloomed the poetry

 

Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

 

A Well-Fed Love

Time
never tames
a well-fed love,
time only makes good
better.

Our first date was wild.

Remember? You wrecked your car, so…
I put your hand on my thigh and drove.

Lunch ended with chocolate-covered coffee
ice cream, our mouths learning our bodies,
our souls finding ecstasy in being one.

Our first date was wild. And the next
will be better.

 

 

Linked to Poets United.

 

Energy Gifts

I make trinkets out of my horrors.

Remember that railroad spike? No, love, not the one impaling society-spawn shame to rotting tongues I want nothing from—that one can’t be removed without reviving dead brains or touching hearts that lie… lie as elusive as the common-sense continuum. I’m talking about the rusty one, the one clad in bloody screams from trembling young lips (my trembling lips). Yes, love, the spike that tried to break my teeth, the one that scared me (once), I turned it into a bouquet of nightmares that sits charmingly outside time, guarded by sentinels crafted out of all your energy gifts.

I shall never run
out of shields, my wicked love,
not if I have you

 

 

the (not so) wee notes…
– some people have justifiable (even cool) phobias. Then, there is me: I have a mostly irrational fear of rust. So, when a friend (who has seen what rust can do to me) said, “What is a jar of giant rusty nails doing by your bed?” I told her the truth: “They are doing absolutely nothing. They probably want to, but they can’t. See that lovingly grinning skull? It was a gift from my boy. The stones, crystals, marbles? Gifts from different friends. All of them guardians. Rust can’t touch me.” The latest boost to my shield is a spoon made of horn bone. Yep, now one of my sentinels can also make sure that I never run out of spoons. Thank you so much, Kerry.

Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.