007 Challenge

The bread so fresh
And squishy white
I cannot wait
To take a bite
Tangy mayo spread
Tomato slices
Juicy and red
Lettuce green and cool
Slices of turkey
For extra fuel
My teeth sink down
What's this?
A frown
Something is lacking
For my lips
Are not smacking
I want to swear
For the onion
Is not there
 
Smoke hangs thickly
In the humid air
Making me wish
It was not there
In the freezer he is seeking
Hands plowing through
And lips not speaking
What is your quest?
I say from the rear
That last cashew bar
I thought it was here
Enrobed in chocolate
And on a stick?
That's the one
I'm craving a lick
The one I just ate?
I said with a grin
The box now resides
In the recycle bin
I saw his face fall
Just ever so slightly
Then he extracted a treat
And beamed up at me brightly
A mango concoction was in his hand
These seem to be new
Indeed they sure are
And I got them for you
You know what I like
You're so very nice
Mango ice cream
With Mochi rice
 
My hands work through the dough
Taking out my aggression
As the pungent scent of yeast
Wafts through the air
Filling my nostrils
And leaving me with a sense of calm
I feel a slight twinge of excitement
As the bubbles rise and burst
Beneath my expert fingers
Countless times before
I have made this crust
Soon to be stretched
After it has rested to perfection
Spread thickly across the pan
To be painted with herbs
And velvety tomato sauce
Drizzles of olive oil
And sprinklings of cheese
Nothing else needed
Perfection in a pan
Into the oven it will go
And come out as pizza
 
Last edited:
When shall we meet?
The days dwindle by
Leaving me wanting
And wondering why
Bad timing it seems
Other plans I had made
And perhaps
I am still a little afraid
What will we do?
What will we say?
I might tremble
As you walk my way
I've never done this before
But I want this so much.
Cravings engulf me
I so want to feel your touch
 
What will tomorrow bring?
A sliver of moon hangs in the sky
Coaxing me on through the night
And into the day to arise with a sigh
A blanket of sun shall cover me
As I yawn and stretch in my bed
Waiting for the goodness to unfold
As visions and fantasies fill my head
So thankful am I for the abundance I have
My world is so filled with light and love
Coming to me in swarms and dribbles
From my guardian angels and heaven above
So grateful and happy
My soul so full it's ready to burst
And yet I'm still up
Must go to bed first
 
Young eyes snap from sleep
sure of a mile's measure under
fresh tread. Some mornings

I rise up young as a green leaf.
Most days I roll against the hour
as if that could marry the hour before.
 
The stories overheard in tunnels
of course whispered
are the trophies and bruises that stuck
to gaits. Horrors at every
fire. Roasting marshmallow, a grandma
wants her daddy
to feed her the gooey middle.
Too much smoke to breathe
after that. I fucking hate
marshmallows now.
 
The tree so full
Green with blush of red
Plump bottoms
And narrowing tops
Waiting for teeth
To pierce their tender skin
And partake of the juices
And flesh within
 
Kernels separate
And sprinkle across the pan
Rice sizzling through the soy sauce
Last night's leftovers
Embellished with egg
And chicken
And colorful vegetables
Heaven between chopsticks
 
Hands clutching thin air
As if seeking out an answer
And invisible answer
That just isn't quite there
But buried deep in the brain
Invading and evading
Tears that will not fall
Desperation smothering
Like a heavy blanket
Weariness seeps
Through the soul
And staunches
Any traces of happiness
Another day my friend
You shall arise with the dawn
While birds chirp
A cheery tune
To fill your ears
And uplift your being
So you can face the day
With renewed hope
 
I sit and wait
Am slightly irate
Time ticks away
What can I say?
Invisible face
No one to chase
I must ask why?
Where is this guy?
Are you toying with me?
I guess I shall see
As the second hand goes
Lost in my prose
Passing the time
Although it's sublime
I still chomp at the bit
And want to throw a fit
Oh where are you?
I feel like a miscue
Stretched felt of green
Balls strewn across the scene
And me all alone
Waiting for the phone
 
The approach is stealthy
Tail swishing silently
I sit here unsuspecting
Poking at my keyboard
And black as my keyboard
Four paws flying
Fully loaded with tiny daggers
Land all at once
Arms and legs under attack
Flesh ripped open
As the specks of blood appear
And her face is so innocent
As she butts me with her head
And leaves cat snot on my hand
 
Earth Momma
That is me
Come and sit
Upon my knee
Let me hug
And comfort thee
Feel free to tell me
All your woes
My ears will listen
And no one knows
Because it's just
Between the two of us
No one will hear
What we discuss
And we'll finish it off
With a piece of pie
As I look deeply
Into your eye
And fill your heart
With my love
As your hand
I take hold of
Rest now my friend
As my arms
Reach and extend
The night falls softly
As we draw together
Fingers tracing
As light as a feather
 
Hips swaying
To that sultry beat
Arms swinging
And frolicking feet
Rock and Roll
Or Classic Motown
Makes me want to
Really get down
Sweet love songs
So soft and smooth
My arms reach out
As if to soothe
Emotions flow
As I play the blues
Those sad songs
Shall be my muse
High energy Hip Hop
Makes me want to
Pop and Lock
Nothing can beat
Some beautiful Soul
It touches my heart
And makes me feel whole
So come on guys
Take a chance
Get up with me
And let's just dance!
 
3am aftermath
of a truth tornado: he
confessed he felt (really?)
that he got more than he gave.
Him in his 3-day jeans,
musician grease, unwaxed
and banking on charm.

I answered male privilege.
By now you should do better.
 
Sociopathic Snapshots
At this locked resolution, I seem
an object, like the lamp or
bedspread. Unannotated
photos betray the true aim:
congress over conference.
These paper moths wilting
from their pin husbands
are no different. They were
beating winged trophies
translated from flight
into a still room--observer to
observed. And she feels

just like a woman.

Pin prick collectors be well
warned. Once nailed
in your felt display, she isn't whole
anymore.

Accumulator of husks,
their shells still
will never love you.
 
Last edited:
Invalid

Let me feel you naked for a while,
flesh on flesh, fingertips, abdomen
intertwined so that, elevated,
phlegm does not coagulate
to spoil the moment. Oh, I know
there is more to life than this,
but the skin of our twenty-five years
flakes faster every day.

It wasn’t long ago we lived
when the sly touching of skin
mattered most after eighteen holes
of golf, a nap, and a late dinner
on Saturday night with a bottle of wine.
Skin matters anytime, my Dear.
 
Last edited:
Back
Top