Gossiping with Frog-Cups

I wanted to feel you
inside out, while I peeled my skin
off your thorned bones.

I wanted to speak
your many names into the wind;
chant to all, “He’s mine!” Unwanted,
and as disposable as the twists
binding a reanimated heart to life, but mine.

Uncanny… wants
younger than the cruellest month
taste of ancient on my tongue,
when all I want is for birdsong
to bedeck the wind
(from moon till sun),
while I gossip with frog-cups.

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 29 – This Poem Has a Mission: In three stanzas, detail what (if anything) you wish to accomplish with the poems you wrote this month, or with poetry writing in general.

linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Frog-Cups in New York City)

Frog-CupsFrog-Cups (growing near my house)

AlmaMia Isn’t Me, But…

I gave her the best
pieces of me:
my taste buds, my alchemical ability
to turn musts into mettle,
and I curled my hair over her skull. But

her thinking is only hers.

She smiles and wails
with her mouth,
climbs through life with self-learned wit;
each of her pains,
she feels in her own flesh. But

I have licked her wounds.

We’ve eaten fruit fed by the same soil,
fought some of the same battles
I lost… I am not her. But

I make things up,
and the best way to make things up
is to make them out of real things;

guess she could be me…
and at least thirteen others
I don’t know.

Process Note: after the bits shared in “My Hot Coffee and I Were Supposed to Get Wild and Sexy, But…” I started going over old emails, from readers who wanted to know if the main character in AlmaMia Cienfuegos and Other Stories was based on me. They founded their questions on facts: the stories are set in the island where I was born, the character lives in the same palm wood house I grew up in, and although our familial and social situations are rather different from each other, AlmaMia and I share many of the same wants and worries. This morning, I replied to some of the newest inquiries with one of my newest favorite Terry Pratchett quotes: “My job is to make things up, and the best way to make things up is to make them out of real things…” And “real things”, my Wicked Luvs, happen to everyone.

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 28 – In the Beginning, There Was Nothing, Which Exploded: find your favorite Pratchett quote… and let your Muse birth some poetry from it.

Terry PratchettI made this candle the day after Terry Pratchett died. In “Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett”, I told you that I would save it for today… Well, it’s burning.

for Sir Terence David John “Terry” Pratchett, OBE (28 April 1948 – 12 March 2015). Happy Birthday, my Knight Writer