Baby Night Whispers

Waiting, whispering
wild wings catch the warm moonlight
breeze during sleep.

Quiet the hunter
guards blossoming, fledgling dreams
adding silver lines.

Protect the sleepy
hatchling, nestled close to home,
nature's living hearth.

Watchful guardians
nudge gently to life towards
white, wide, waiting worlds.

Catch, descry, get
an earful of every word
whispered gently near.

Screech, howl, scream, loud yells,
thoughts and visions to the world,
share living beauty.

Purple and Lace

Grocery List
Thigh Master
Fake eyelashes
crushed red pepper
Windex
vaseline
shin guards
Christmas lights
Energy saver light bulbs
Sliver polish cleaner
Mentos

Bobby Faye Lasso worked her thigh master furiously. "Work it hard, lose the lard." She sang. While she flexed her thighs in and out with the rythm of the thigh master, she imagined the 18 year old grocery bagger stroking her arms, brushing her hair and sucking luxuriously on her toes. It had been a week ago that she had run into his scrawny, hollow chest and got a wistful of Windex in her eyes.
"What the...! My eyes! Shit, my eyes! Help!" She crushed her fake eyelashes with her fist and more particles fell into her eyes. "You asshole!" She screamed the bewildered bagger grabbed things off the counter to wipe her face with and unfortunately grabbed a rag that had been used to clean up a bottle of spilled crushed red pepper. He screams escalated into piercing horror. The manager ran out and quickly ebbed the situation by bathing Bobby's face with a spray bottle and a clean wet rag.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. That little jerk should be fired."
"M'am, m'am, I am so sorry." The bagger croaked. She looked into his befuddled brown eyes.
"YOU SHOULD BE FIRED!" She screamed.
"I..I...I'm sorry."
"You going to pay for this, brown eyes. Just you wait."
The bagger gave up. He shrugged, popped a Mento into his mouth. "Whatever, bitch." He left her standing with an open mouth and a bright, enraged face.
A few days later he showed up at her door. She opened the door a little and looked at him with deadpan scorn.
"My manager told me to give these to you and asked that you accept my apology." In his arms were four boxes of Christmas lights and and two bottles of Vitamin C tablets.
"What kind of apology gifts are those?
"They were on special." He dropped the gifts in front of her door and started walking off.
"Hey! Get back here! Put those down on the counter for me."
He stopped, put his hands on his hips and turned around.
"Whatever you crazy bitch." he picked up the gifts and waited for her to open the door to let him in. She opened the door wide and he paused. She was seductively standing in lacy, purple underwear. Brown liver spots speckled her bare arms and face and greddy spider veins discolored her thin, loose legs. He thought twice before stepping in.
"I'm not sure I am comfortable with this." He said.
"Just put the packages down and you can leave."
He cautiously stepped into her apartment and set the packages on the counter. Behind him he heard the soft click of the door and the subtle squeak of the lock.
"I was just polishing my silver." She said and sauntered over to where the young boy stood. She picked up a bottle of silver cleaner, unscrewed the lid and took a deep gusty sniff. She threw her head back, closed her eyes and puffed out a whispery, "Yes. Yes!" She then focused her glazed, red eyes on his. "You might need shin guards for this." She said and stroked his thick, brown neck.
"I don't...I don't have any shin guards."
"Your knees are going to suffer then." She laughed.
Brown eyes backed away but not too quickly. His intereset was piqued.
"Listen, lady. My mom needs me to fix the washer but I can come back tomorrow"
"Are you sure?" She asked licking her ruby red, finely wrinkled lips.
"Yes. Yes, I am." he said and felt more and more sure he would indeed return tomorrow. He didn't like lace but purple was his favorite color.
"Well, when you come bring me a package of energy saving lightbulbs, vaseline and leave the underwear at home."
"Yes, m'am." He said and with that unlocked the door and proudly stepped out into the hall letting the door click shit behind him.

Shopping List Exercise - Enjoy

"Way Out There with only some Gold Bond Powder to Spare"

cottage cheese
rice
cinnamon
gold fish
gold bond powder
make-up remover
burritos
lemi-shine
graham crackers
mydol

"Don't forget the gold bond powder at the store," Rick said as I walked out the door.

I rolled my eyes. I had just bought him gold bond powder two weeks ago. What was he using it on? I had to ask myself as the vein in my forehead began to throb. It was time to grab my shopping list for cottage cheese, cinnamon and apples and run over to Smith's.

Before I forgot, I grabbed my pen out of my purse, leaned over to the counter and penciled gold bond on the bottom of my list. It wouldn't be the first time I had walked into the store and bought fruit instead of my list requiring a second trip to the store.

I drove over. There were no spaces. I ended up in the Blockbuster parking lot. I had to walk a half a mile just to get to the store.

I spotted a golden-haired, glittery-skinned women at my first stop, the fruit department. How weird.

"Do you know where the rice is?" she asked me tiredly then shot me with a liquid shot of mydol, at least that's what it said on the shot. It knocked me out but not before my head fell and crushed the graham crackers I'd dropped on the floor right before I started going down.

When I woke up I was surrounded by perfect, shiny people in a large room with what looked like Peppermill Farms Goldfish crackers that kept swimming around on the walls.

They offered me a burrito. "We found these at your store. Would you like one?" They asked curiously.

I rolled over and shuddered in horror. It was still frozen.

What I wouldn't give for make-up remover and another shot of Mydol right now. Their shininess was starting to bore into my brain like a lead weight. A little bit of lemi-shine might help, maybe?

I grabbed the buy closes to me and started rubbing his hand. He smiled and grabbed my hand in return and began to rub it the same way. I was rubbing his. He was still shiny. Good heavens. I needed sunglasses stat.

"She isn't very shiny. What's wrong with these people? If we can't get them to shine very soon we will have to destroy their planet."

"Double the gold bond bond powder Rick has been feeding her," The man holding my hand said. "We want to make sure they don't glow. If they don't we can have their planet."

"If you don't let me go, I will destroy your ship." I said.

I spit out the gold bond they were feeding me, added some make-up remover and lemi-shine, placed it by the fuel cells. Lit the fuse and blew the ship up.

I escaped in a pod, went back home, and strangled my Rick with gold bond powder.

Since I couldn't go anywhere after I strangled Rick I wrote a poem:

The gold fish swam lazily back and forth
in the lemi-shine and water in my sink.
It hadn't eaten the cottage cheese and borscht
that was floating on top and at at the brink
of it's tank. I removed it, swallowed a Midol,
sponged out make-up remover and began to scrub.
I sprinkled gold bond powder to dry it,
then wiped it all off, rinsed it and poured it in the tub.
I put the gold fish back in clean and shiny water
and boiled up rice and microwaved a burrito
crushed up some graham crackers, some apples,
some cinnamon, and microwaved halibut so
you could eat, and I could clean the mess
that you left outside the tank.
I powdered your lips and bandaged
your wound and into your big water you sank.

"The Dare" a brief inner monologue from the Shopping List Writing Exercise

Shopping List

Black Fishnet Pantyhose

Razors and Shaving cream

Red Lipstick

Chocolate Syrup

Ice Cream

Wax (Hair removal)

18 rounds 9mm bullets

Duct Tape

Vodka

Handcuffs

Latex

The Dare

Oh, CRAP! Tonight’s the night. I did it on a dare and I want to back out. I can’t. They’ll know. They’ll check up on me. They know I want to cancel. I HATE dares!

I’m doing it. A couple Vodka shots will ease my anxiety. Right?

One shot. Two shots…

The red lipstick on the rim breaks my concentration. The anxiety is back.

I have an idea…

The chocolate syrup drizzles like blood seeping from a wound, lacing the ice cream in a viscous web. Mmmmm…

The anxiety diminishes with each bite of this creamy confection.

Step two, the preparation. I run my hands across my legs. Dang. My last wax job has warn off. I’ll have to resort to the old stand-by: shaving cream and razor. So archaic. The Vodka did nothing to steady the constant tremble in my hand. I just manage to avoid nicking my ankle. I’d hate to leave any obvious DNA traces.

Carefully I dress for success. My alabaster skin appears translucent through the black fishnet of my pantyhose. The waist rips so I secure it with a ring of duct-tape. I won’t need to remove them in a hurry.

I grab my bag and check its contents:

Gloves, check (Not latex, though, I have allergies.)

Handcuffs, check.

Bullets…missing.

I grab 18 rounds of 9mms from the dresser as I head to the door. The gun is tucked safely in the waistband of my skirt.

One last bite of ice cream and I’m gone. My mind is clear. I’m completing this dare.

I inhale
long and deep
Tasting every subtle sinew
Sizzling fats, veins
Snapping bursts of flames;
Panting dragon
Enter
Into my soul
Finger the delicate secrets
The sensuous arcs
and pulsing agile shadows
Expertly darting through your fingers
Like silver guppies
I pause
Implode

Exhale.

(for my sister)

Temporality

It's difficult and troubling

And wonderful and rich.

It's heartbreaking and uplifting

This grand and worldly gift.

Through laughter and through sorrow,

'Midst realms of this abyss,

Indeed we must remember

How beautiful life is.

Pumpkin

Round, orange, glowing orbs
staring,sitting,welcoming
from my waiting porch.

Flutter

Hi, all. This is one part of a three-part short.

One: See No Evil

By the end of the experiments, even the happiest of monkeys will be irrevocably damaged. Since so many will assume hunched over positions in their corners, I will ask you to be brave, Britches. In spite of your apprehension, I am going to have to persuade you to do this for your own good. At birth you will be poached, carried away from the jungle, placed in a laboratory setting at the University of Utah. Because Dr. Langfitt will not administer anesthesia during your vivisections, you will suffer. In addition to the physical pain, you will be confined to what will be called a vertical chamber apparatus that will deprive you of your senses and social contact. Now and then you will lose touch with external reality altogether. Outside of a worldly schema your dreams will be pure: Pay attention. I may reveal significant information regarding your progress.

With your orientation packet you should have received a picture of what you will look like after you are set free. Throughout the experience you will be a little stump-tailed Macaque monkey. You will have earned every one of those wrinkles, that disconcerted crinkle between your eyes, and those grey tufts of hair for eyebrows. Above and below your button eyes, you can see long black filaments sticking out from your eyelids. Despite your resemblance to Tammy Faye Baker, those are actually sutures that will be snipped open by your redeemers, once they have set you free. Let me just say that no one wants to be deprived of their vision. But we must be collaborators in this plan. Beyond shadow and doubt, if you ever need solace, you can call on me. Outside of solace, there’s really not a whole hell of a lot I can do, but know that I will be here for you, nevertheless. Considering that others will have to have their skulls smashed under hydraulic presses in brain damage studies meant to reorganize the sensory functioning of the cerebral cortex, I would definitely consider you one among the elect.

Underneath your blank evaluation sheet you will find the veterinarian reports based on what they will discover about you.

I examined a macaque monkey, aged approximately five months. I found an accumulation of smegma on the edematose and inflamed penis, indicating prolonged unsanitary disregard for the animal.

Notice in the picture how your penis will bend to the left, like the dorsal fin of an orca whale raised in captivity. Fascinating.

The activists found Britches alone in his cage with filthy, moisture-soaked dressing covering his eyes and a sonar device attached to his skull that emitted a high frequency shrieking sound every two or three minutes. He was clinging to a towel-covered prop that had two artificial nipples attached. It seems that this device was meant to represent a surrogate mother. The animal demonstrates photophobia. Skin dry. Body odor fetid. Veterinarian ophthalmologist Dr. Donald Blackburn also examined Britches after he was taken from the lab. Blackburn stated that the sutures used were grossly oversized. They had torn through lid tissue, resulting in multiple lacerations and scarring on both corneas. He said, “There is no possible justification for this sloppy, painful experiment.”

Subsequently, Britches, you will retire to a place near where you were born in Mexico, in a sanctuary with an elderly female macaque who will have already raised several orphans. Be brave, Britches. I believe in you.

I found my ROAST BEEF Poem

It's kinda long. Here it is.

I am consumed
Brought loosely to my knees

Men everywhere I turn,
All over the place,
Ubiquitously haunting the corners
Imbedded in the fat of my brain
In the wisps of my watery soul.

I am sick.

Pushed over the edge with jealousy
With possessiveness, madness.
For someone who cannot be mine.
Is mine
An affair
Of acid.

I could never have enough of you.
In ten million years.
More.

I am sick.

I desire your smell,
Your taste
Your body
If you were here
I could make you feel things you never felt before
Erotic exorbitance
Endless. Forever.

And you come back and say to me

No more. Never.
You have the pulse of a corpse
And the soul of a guillotine.

And I will take it like I have to.
But I don't promise not to punish you first.

Because I won't have another like you.

There isn't another.

I would surrender all to you
Like an overdone roast-
fall smoothly
gently
apart at your touch
my lips
my legs
Like butter.
Slippery and silent.

Turmoil

The flow of emotion

overwhelms the soul

as it struggles to rise above humanity.

It’s curious.

Silence festers in your boiling heart and blistering stomach.

You position your pawns in granite, only to abandon them in conceit.

Leave now.

Before the poisoned tips of your words pierce their innocuous mark.

Before you’re compelled to consider the obliteration you carelessly instigate.

Consider this.

Stay you the bearing of writhing fury allowing its noxious reign?

Unleash instead the demon in seclusion eradicating its depraved power?

In arrogance you challenge the Fates

as you choreograph

your victory dance.

A Situation Out of Time

A wave of disillusionment crashed over her, smothering the night’s euphoria. Gracie sat in glacial silence surrounded by the continual ebb and flow of conversation. Just as ocean waves pull at the shore, the sound waves continued to suck away any trace of happiness.

Indiscernible ice formed on the being next to her. It was clear the storm’s effects were felt there too. Realization brought the cold truth home. Nothing was as it seemed even five minutes prior. The idol on the pedestal leaped and ugly cracks clawed their way over the idol’s face.

The night’s festivities altered in her memory, leaving behind a sickness that spread from past to present nightmare. This moment, this storm, will alter the course of Gracie’s future.

grandpa

rough, prickly beard,
licorice/wintergreen treats,
numberless hugs and
30 steps away
'til 1995.

then you were gone,
still here, but not.
i missed you,
the you that went
someplace else.

the busy, always
moving, sometimes
gruff man,
who talked to
my brother and me
and my grandma,

and then you
were gone again.

she misses you
and feels bad.
she thinks she
killed you, like
I did my dog;

but you were already gone.

Tiger

Paths that lead to nowhere and everywhere.
A tiger runs down with quiet feet,
my son walks slowly, ponderously.

Be with me, for a moment, part of my world.

Dead stalks slowly become green again,
Dry heat, wet droplets, daffodil perfume,
invite me to travel down the path, no guide.

I fall up through the blue clouds.
I am alone and joined,
to the flowers, the dirt, the air,
yet still and alone my heart breaks free.

Only I wander through these paths,
watching my son, the tiger, my life.

Ocean

Your problem is vast
and where is your head?
on the tiny grain cast
by your feet, in your bed
after you took your shoes off,
but not your socks
that tracked sand on the way
from the beach and the rocks.

Silly Angry Poem 2

I swear the times
I wander through
the wake of mind
left behind you
the more I find
how little you knew.

Silly Angry Poem 1

You're the best.
I do regret
knowing you more,
you pretentious bore.

You just have to love it. Nothing for months and then a ton in one night. I'm finally caught up. Please don't shun me on facebook. Ann:)

Es 5 por la mañana,
el mundo es callado y solo,
las subidas de sol encima del alféizar,
como respiro el primer aliento de la mañana,
permita que mí agarrar el espíritu del alba y la esperanza de la tierra en mis palabras.

It is 5 in the morning,
the world is quiet and alone,
the sun rises above the windowsill,
as I breathe the first breath of the morning,
let me catch the spirit of the dawn and the hope of the earth in my words.

Erotica

I am the only woman for you
deep at the very core of you
your heart pumps the essence
of me through your body, into
your fingertips, through
my skin and back to me.

You're the only man for me.
I cannot separate you from me.
The essence of you bleeds from
me, curling and yearning
for a taste. Craving,
throbbing, through

my throat to my tongue
into your mouth, to your heart.

My dear friend
You wander through life
In a maze.

Quiet and alone
Sad to the end I watch
The sun rise and set.

And then it was over....
It had never begun....
Somehow there was pain
In that moment before,
Work that fed into something
Larger and difficult.

I had the result,
A baby? A paper? A dog? Death?
All that paperwork
And then it was over.
What did it bring?

Changing

Waiting, leaping into adulthood,
wishing youth is forever,
not knowing easy and fast isn't good,
independence, vibrancy life.

Birthing, beginning, babies and families,
smelling fear,
it all starts out easy,
all at once your life starts there.

Borrowing, begging for success,
deaf world ignores your plans,
finances are such a mess,
making ends meet.

Fighting, screaming with yourself,
learn to love your chosen heart,
sometimes desire with someone else,
comes between the ones you raised.

Crying, working, to understand,
Worth it?
The answer isn't dying,
It's existence.

Consumption

I’m tired now, but it’s a good tired.
The tired you feel after a hard day’s work
—like a day spent cleaning the house
—or a long day laboring in the yard.
The tired you allow to take over as you wallow in the aftermath.
I’ll enjoy it when I get home, but first—
First I’ll wash it off.
The backwash of my labor.

I do not select the subjects of my vocation.
A higher power unveils them to me.
I’m not claiming the call comes from on High,
Just that the revealing power overcomes my own desires.
I did not choose this path.
I chose to stop resisting.

They come to me in colors.
Subtle shades at first, not abrasive to my vision.
Until I ignore them. Then they deepen,
and bleed.
When it reaches the point where the color consumes my skin, devours it,
I react.

I do not enjoy my work, but the accomplishment
—you’ll laugh—completes me.
You wonder why I tell you this.
I find it necessary to purge my soul.
Bleed out the consuming darkness.
Will the confession endanger me, you ask.
Oh, no. For you see, it won’t reach the light of day.

I do wonder, though.
Can you feel it?
Does the drenching of sapphire seep into your pores?
That’s your color you know.
It began as a pale azure.
Then deepened to the limpid hue of a cavernous lake,
Darkened to sapphire as it bled.
Already it is fading.
I can feel it rise from my skin as a form of evaporation.
It will eventually bleach from your being.
You’ll have moved on by then.

Will you share your answer with me?
I see.
You seek to deny me as a punishment of sorts for my actions.
Perhaps you misunderstand.
I live each day in punishment.
Possibly this knowledge will give you a final thrill.
The satisfaction of knowing at least one soul will remember you.
And suffer for knowing you.

The chance has passed.
The question remains.
Farewell Indigo.
I leave in search of rest and denial
Until again consumed by shades.
It is done.