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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Hear this on chirbit

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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?

Yerka Jacek – Mind Fields Between Heaven and Hell

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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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 162

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 98

Quickening of The Chakras

Venus de Milo with Drawers – Salvador Dali, 1936

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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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 157

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 85

Poetry Pantry #145

Epideictic Rhetoric

Central Library, Manchester, U.K., by Robin Gosnall

(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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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 154

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 82

Also posted on:

Introducing E