Soft Parts Exposed

Sharp wiry fingers
reached under my Muse’s skirt.
They ripped and tore
bloody chunks of words;
left her screaming,
“Rape!”

I was rage-shocked.

The rage metamorphosed into hurt
that forced me onto my back;
limbs flailing,
my soft parts exposed…
violated.

 

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads’ weird platform

by SunshineShelle

“Tears of Blood”, by SunshineShelle

Red Candle and Dark Whiskey

I called you
with living blood and lived memories,
with feet dancing to your laughter;

are you flirting with angels
and drinking heavenly mojitos?

I’ve called on you
with bawdy jokes
and ribald songs;

perhaps it isn’t your time…

I’m calling
with red candle and dark whiskey,
with open heart and closed—

“You said whiskey?”

 

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and Poets United

Process Note: Today marks the second anniversary of my little brother’s death. Gregory Guerrero’s flesh and bones left this world on February 28, 2013, ten days before his 27th birthday. But his spirit continues to grow in the hearts of those who love him as he was, in the memories of anyone who speaks his name and summons his smiles…

The poem above came to life after my friends, Jonquil, Sharon, Rommy, Kim and Gina replied to a message I posted on my Facebook wall. I had been working on a short story that celebrates my little brother’s life, when sadness began to creep in; I wasn’t ready for it. So I shared a portion of the first sentence of the story: “I’ve been calling on you, with living blood and lived memories…”, and asked friends to cheer me up by completing it. I said to keep in mind that the words were being spoken by a living sister to her dead brother; that he loves a good joke… and she adores the sound of his laughter.

Thank you, my ladies. May the song of our words warm my little brother’s soul… ♥

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Gregory Guerrero

You will always be loved, mi Gordis…

Of “Burst and Spill” and Ephemeral Chaos

This is my first time using WordPress, and let it be known that it’s currently kicking m’butt. But worry not, my Wicked Luvs, you can continue to keep an eye on me (and delighting in a tale or 13) by following the links on the Navigation Menu—yes, my dear Blogger brethren, I’m trying out the new lingo; my Link Bar days will soon be gone *pre-nostalgia-infused sigh*.

I’m experimenting with colors, layouts, typography, premeditated kisses… So things will look a tad chaotic for a while. Do not run for the hills if you stop by to visit and find everything written in Orkish. However, if the background is white and the text begins to glitter, call Van Helsing (tell him to bring very, very dark sunglasses), for my beloved new site was probably taken over by vampires with freakishly sparkling powers.

Below is a poem I wrote a month or so ago, inspired by Rick (Dienzo) Blanco’s “Mona”. It was first published on my Facebook page, in Darker Words. I’m posting it here because I wanted to have something sexy, dark and bloody to glance at while I worked on the site. Who doesn’t?

Burst and Spill

Tears,
darkened by supplicatory screams,
spilled calamity down Mona’s cheeks.

“Poor thing,” said the woman Mona watched from afar.

“Living isn’t for wimps,” said her man;
his tongue still tasting of someone else’s breasts.

“I hope she finds peace and justice,” said she.

“People get what they deserve,” said he.

“Should I feed on his eyes
or will you squeeze,
burst and spill
the darkness out of his heart?”
said the Raven.

Mona, by Rick “Dienzo” Blanco

Mona, by Rick Dienzo Blanco