Category Archives: Magpie Tales
to enslave with domestication
to enslave with domestication
it is always superficial, caused by humans without gumption.
their hearts are frozen. their dysfunctionality, contagious.
i am preoccupied with difficulties. the air is too cold.
with temerity i shiver. the communal sun radiates not on me.
a treasure from my mother might be a memory of times past.
it’s a species thing. natural. days of wretched misery.
hours of dolorous suffering. i am stabbed by unblunted thorns.
calluses form as if I were to transmute into an uncultivated cactus.
i question the distress in the experience of humanity:
to savor. to self-reflect. to engage in life with exactitude.
to appraise with attitude. to enslave with domestication.
i stare with solemnity, “is protection around the corner?”
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 190
Also posted on:
Open Link Night ~ 107
Image credits: Unknown, from Magpie tales page
Dance to the Moulin Rouge
Dance to the Moulin Rouge
summer breezes kiss her curls.
unlatched emotions — tension unfurled.
a sudden scuttle. she towers
to the middle of the floor —
music called her to gambol.
the men rubbernecking.
her dress plays it safely.
impulsive. exploitative.
pathetic ridicule and gossip.
chirps hum to merry prancing.
graceful butterfly. witch queen.
dance tornado. plastic sculpture.
dress variable in shape.
ribbons and skin so silky.
next, she’ll kick off those shoes.
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 179
Also posted on:
Open Link Night ~ 107
Fancy HOV Ridin’
Fancy HOV Ridin’
surrealistic existentialism
late afternoon commute,
coasting in the bike lane
looking for things to do.
careers, oh so different.
with certainty, city explored.
older people, not one younger
high school students on the run.
time to ransack bookstores.
(only for compilations)
published. renounced.
such was the plan.
in good company,
cheeky thinking.
regional network,
structured naturally.
professor emeritus,
familiar with his family tree.
full of universal correctness,
(worthy of a doubt or two.)
signed up for his book club.
costly find. challenged participation.
opinions: affected by social conditions:
unfavorable disregard for niceties.
night ride? without illumination?
front wheel off, bike fits in his trunk.
homeward in eco-ready, light-auto —
stratospheric high-flying-occupant-car-pooler.
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 179
Also posted on:
Open Link Night ~ 107
Image credits: The Horrible Forest by *pesare on deviantart
lower body wrap
lower body wrap
fabric wrinkles in her hand:
uneven, asymmetric, flexible,
button-less, never scratchy.
effect and causation.
a careful calibration.
dedication, decoration,
operation, improvisation:
drape it.
throw it.
peel it like paste —
a belly-dancer’s veil.
mass consumption.
don’t’ make a presumption.
a classic resumption.
show a little gumption:
show a little tit.
show a little ass.
sprinkle rectus abodominus.
raw leg’s healthy sex appeal.
melt into subduction,
in this place of seduction.
conduction, abduction…
don’t make a big production —
it’s a cheap reproduction.
rich colored background.
soft colored skin.
fabric drenched in softener.
softly tactile.
soft-on-soft.
soft-on-wet.
ahhhh…
wrap it up.
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 163
Also posted on:
Open Link Night ~ 91
Image credits: The Horrible Forest by *pesare on deviantart
First Rose
First Rose
first bud of spring
squint at her glory —
spotless, purified
ready to be deflowed
(dare I)
sacrifice her chastity
so that no neighbor will
sniff, lick, or covet
with pleasure.
soul
sound
soil
grounded love.
harmonious silence.
I cannot dismiss this debut:
a diary of yellowed redolence,
nonchalant simplicity.
people of the white rose.
queen of the red rose.
I am of the yellow rose.
the first, my only, soft, unique
blossomed rose, ready to go.
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Written for:
Just Say What You Don’t Mean: Irony
Photo Credit: Bat-Ami Gordin © 2013 all rights reserved, credit if you use it, please.
Where Is the Food When Mother Is Not?
Where Is the Food When Mother Is Not?
Where is the food
when mother is not,
searching — plates and bowls
hit or miss? Open fridge.
Ransack cabinets.
I read a fairy tale,
that food grows ready:
creative cuisine,
not difficult to get:
a hundred people —
a hundred eggs.
Without Mom, a sudden collapses?
Everywhere needs an eye —
Or the glassware might fall:
a place to cry
a place to laugh.
Here’s Mom.
The harvest
we will collect.
Enthusiastic cheers.
The smell goes down the hall.
I shall help.
Always help.
Help in the kitchen.
Yes, Mom is back.
Heat up the pot.
No more stale, old
Piss-water tea.
Take a broom and dustpan.
Sweep up confusion.
The cold kitchen
will soon be warm.
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on chirbit
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 162
Also posted on:
OpenLinkNight ~ Week 98
Quickening of The Chakras
Quickening of The Chakras
Dirt removed from body,
in bathing relaxation.
You squeeze out thoughts
with unseen hands.
Light emanates from stomach;
it centers from the groin,
it’s grounded from the toes,
along the spine and running.
Thickness not applicable.
All colors of the rainbow are appropriate.
Shape is satisfying as it
forms in spherical splendor.
It’s a thing of tears.
Heart sounds seem like waves.
It’s a quickening, whence
cells echo in the body,
calmness of a primitive universe.
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on chirbit
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 157
Also posted on:
OpenLinkNight ~ Week 85
Initiated Kiss

Lovers Kissing by Joseph Lorusso
Initiated Kiss
There was a man
who was The Kiss
after a meal,
but not even dating.
Only one
earnestly fell in love;
a kiss to which
one utters, “WOW!”
blinding everyone’s
point of view.
They must kiss all the time.
Oh.
Behind the ear.
Around the neck.
A little touch
here and there.
Initiation? By whom?
Is this for real?
This kind of kiss,
better than any before.
No one observes those lips.
It’s all a point of view.
Public display of affection —
extremely tight and thrilling.
Let them perform
so long, so hungry.
Private entertainers
competing against
mediocre sustenance.
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 155
Also posted on:
OpenLinkNight ~ Week 83
Epideictic Rhetoric

Central Library, Manchester, U.K., by Robin Gosnall
Epideictic Rhetoric
(students and their study habits)
palate superstructure of the day;
vehicle of the visitors;
a gallery to favor Aeneas,
to let Diana eat well,
often to let Bacchus drink.
auricular masses
chewed moral and mental comparisons.
ballistic bedroom crowds
reiterated unrepeatable profanity.
who jumped off the roof
for the sake of
three tragedies,
one satire, five dramas,
and three comedic theatrical events?
eschew the epideictic rhetoric.
ignore the melodies of the epifonèma.
let them speak euphemisms silently
as we give them time to catch up and read.
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 154
Also posted on:
OpenLinkNight ~ Week 82
Also posted on:
Not Alone
Not Alone
(The Week Michael Jackson Died)
From the four corners,
people observed
through grieving family eyes.
I was not alone.
Down the blood red carpet,
a golden casket
carried The King
popped
in his final act.
I’d sing to him.
I’d sing with him.
I’d cure him
of his instabilities
and self loathing.
But I’ll never meet him now.
I’ll never get to hold his hand;
to heal the world,
to save each creature
by his side.
I am not alone:
missing him,
his philanthropy ,
his unconditional, total love.
I flash YouTube
one song
after another;
sing them
with unlicensed
Karaoke lyrics.
The pain doesn’t stop.
I remember hours
of burning electricity —
spinning tunes
dancing just like him
or maybe dancing my own
chassé-Marimba-two-step.
I pull out the vinyls
and drop a tear
on every album sleeve.
I return to the world of today:
to neighbors,
to newscasts,
to blogs in Japanese .
Around me —
emotional schemas
of every variety;
and I realize,
I am not alone.
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Hear this
on chirbit
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Written for:
Magpie Tales – Mag 153
Also posted on:
OpenLinkNight ~ Week 81