Disguised with a wink and a nod
They fit like lock and key
And locked it in their memories,
Bodily and otherwise.
The soft underbelly of connection
Opens with the heated steady breath.
No crowbar necessary
To open their hearts, their souls
That carry the knowing, the love.
The pulse of words from a virgin mouth
To the veteran ears of the writer
Trust infused the moments
Forging a one-way trip
To a confounding precipice
Beyond the spirit, holding the body
Please welcome a guest post by my dear friend Bob Hakim. These poems were written over 30 years ago but stand the test of time.
Adrift in this life sea death
Heart of lead, body of foam, I float.
Over crest, into trough, drifting,
Let me die, let me die, I scream.
Good mornings all you hear.
No more delusions of Grandeur
No hope for pleasure or answers.
No will to give – too sick.
Why does death evade me?
People’s smiles persuade me
To smile back, rather than
Run ranting and pulling my hair.
When I hear the sounds of backfire
I wait calmly for the bullets to strike.
When the earth quakes, I hold on gently
While my heart sings shake it up baby, shake.
If some object of deliverance should pierce my heart,
Yes!…The song my blood rush sings.
They felt a whisper symphony manifest
The second time they passed.
The ocean hiker and the wandering musician
Traveled the trail of recognition;
A lifted eyebrow
A raised corner of the mouth
Greetings issued with a nod and a hey
Connection was made.
I want to fuck him,
She thought with certainty this time
His thoughts turned inward with deference
His guitar shifting on his back.
The moment moved them apart
But a memory is worth a thousand steps.
I sit above the fray, removed from trials and pain of the ants below. There is freedom here to not engage in the tussles of war, religion, fear, hate. I worship vertical space.
Trifextra seventy: respond in 33 words to the photo here
Last night’s contest prompt was “the story must be centered around a dream lover.”
While it was somewhat restrictive, I attempted to move out of the box. Apparently, that was not what the judge wanted, as I did not even make the finalists. You may go here to see the other entries.
Alex quickly and quietly shut the closet door when he heard the knock.
“Coming. Uh…just a minute!” he yelled.
Opening his bedroom door slightly, he sighed and asked his mom what she wanted now.
“Did I hear you talking in there? Do you have company?”
“Look mom, you know our agreement. It’s none of your business.”
“Ok. Ok. Sorry. I just wanted to let you know your show’s on tv.”
“Yeah, like I don’t know that every week,” Alex half-muttered to the door frame. “It’s a rerun this week so I’ll pass.”
“Alright. See you around,” his mom said with smile and a wave.
At 39, Alex was not particularly proud to live with his mother, but losing his job forced his hand a few months ago. At least he had his own entrance even though she could still access his room from inside the house. He felt he had a pretty good handle on things.
He opened his closet and hoisted his girlfriend out.
“I’m sorry I had to do that, Sandy,” he said as he stroked her blonde hair. Tufts of it fell out in his hands but he simply put them back onto her scalp, hoping they would stay this time (though he had the necessary tools to make them stay, he preferred the more natural approach).
He sat in his oversized chair and set Sandy on his lap. he looked into her blue as blue can be eyes, stroked her cheek and down to her luscious lips. He was proud of her lips, as he’d worked so hard on them. He began unbuttoning her blouse but stopped as he noticed the blackening tint to her peeling chest skin.
He’d have to start work on a new layer for that tomorrow. Darn it, when was this decay going to stop? He really thought replacing it was going to do some good. He just couldn’t stand to lose Sandy again after all they’d been through.
The draw, the pull
Its origin does not interest me.
I recoil when silence is unveiled
In response to opening the wound, the one I didn’t know was there.
The salt scorches hope unfulfilled
Hope of something different this time.
I cannot touch what isn’t there
The love I offer, the taste of truth
Leaves me waiting far too long
I refuse to say goodbye
Refuse to accept it is just me
Refuse to accept the unrequited.