"I'm NOT going to tell you
this is NOT
JUST a test
like I tell ALL the rest

that it's ONLY
a test?
C'mon
you should know better"

I'm noticing this guy has a lot of ink
all over
and the darkest kind

"So it's NOT
Not an ordinary exam?
this ain't basketball tryouts?"
I ask...
"I just took a walk in the park
had a...
white
****** knuckle sandwich
I played pinochle
with the Old Man
rode in bear backed
like Lady Godiva...."

I heard
words &
Maniacal laughter
played by symphony  of demons
& smirking
violinists in the background

"I'll tell you it
is
in
FACT
a
TEST
****
a super difficult one..."
then

".....continue reading my contract...."

reading and absorbing
unfathomable amounts of learning
and yearning
with
excellent Earning Potential
requires a decent,
above average
genius IQ
i don't need anything
other than...
to
leave my heart behind
and any other angels
my set of wings
saved aside
this is just a ride
I tell myself
they cast him out you know
fallen Angel
and....no other Gods, Mommy, Daddy, deities....xcetera.

"logically it's been there all along
everyone hears me
not like you can IGNORE my voice
you've seen my ad...."

(a bony finger with a long sharp nail
points upward)...

"up there
you know where...
on the billboard in Times Square
i am 100% certain it was you"

and it is
here I am.
Okay, I'm in control...breathe
take a sip of moonshine first
shhhhh...
listen
a little chuckle

Lucifer continues....

"You can bring Conscience along
she has been cleared.. "
Loudspeaker coming on
"We repeat
this is NOT a Strong Storm warning
there won't be any arms waving
no lights like at the airport
telling you where to land
no hands outside the vehicle
or for holding"

A pause,
finally...in closing
he looks my way...saying

"You'll stop at the Crossroads
lose the shirt
see a
blinking Amber Alert
don't stop at the bar
no flirting....

look back
actually there's a poetic flood
it's coming
that 'deluge' of your
bloodstained Indigo ink"
filled paper
boats are
floating &
he is gloating
"you might refer to the Ark section
of your Manual
before it's time to go...."

I gather important
necessary documents
for example making sure my will is signed
on the dotted line
***** donor checked off
blood type
leaving all others behind
no certainty of any kind
may not return
from an
Unknown Destination
things tend to get worse
  before they get better
  grab a sweater
a bumpy ride
my friend
dragging those
    sharpened ink filled
       fingertips
       down a chalkboard...
       I  buckle up
   transportation provided
nausea subsided
here I go
down below
  "I thought
     I would
     always have to
      take you
       kicking......
        & screaming
        still saying the
        Lord's Prayer
        signed, sealed
          & delivered."
         I smile...
         nod ...
          I say
         "Yut...
           guess so"
            time to go
           getting up
            from a chair...
             & I swear
              I am
              walking
               out
                no
                room
                for
 ­                any
                 doubt.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Last night, I ate
the god ****** apple.
I plucked it from its branch
in plain sight.
There it sat, smooth and round,
in my eager palms—
tantalizing with promises
of fulfillment that causes
a hungry jaw to tingle at its corners.
I grazed it, playfully, with my teeth
before giving into my ultimate desires
to let the sweet juices pop
and run down my chin.
Then, charged with a satisfaction
that pulsed electric down my spine,
I took bite after bite,
easing into something
I had taught myself not to need;
a keen knowledge of indulgent pleasure
that makes woman, woman,
and woman wanted.
I reveled there in the heat of it all,
naked, sticky, and fully absolved
of that restless, nagging guilt.

I mean, come on,
Eve just wanted to know ****.

Folded between waves,
she soaked up all of the magic
the salt air had to offer—
a quiet, little old soul,
turned riotously blissful
in the presence of the great Atlantic.
I saw this with my own eyes and smiled.
This love was in our blood,
passed down from our mothers,
unspoken but shared—
an immutable joy that dripped
from the ends of our hair,
mimicked our laugher
in these deep edges of blue,
and echoed in the fizz
of the crashing surf.
I saw this with my own eyes and smiled.
Folded between waves,
something in me settled especially for her:
No matter how unclear life may become,
she, too, would find happiness
as long as she could find her way
back to this shore.

Crying Night

You said mean
nasty
horrible
teasing
things

you didn’t think
about what you said
to me

I turned my back
and we sat in silence.
The glow of our phones lighting up our faces
mine, sad
yours, oblivious

mine, a way out of our plans tomorrow
yours, Facebook scrolling

then,
the last straw
the tip of the iceberg
it wasn’t the things he said that night
it was everything
it was me feeling like I wasn’t good enough
our hearts filled not equally

mine, full, overflowing, even
yours, unsure,
you turned to me and tried to make me giggle
react
laugh
at a post
I shoved you
and the flood gates opened
first quietly
then raging
heavy, breathe taking sobs
crying crying

then you realized
this wasn’t a joke
you held me tight
and I told you why
All of it, and you laid and listened
silence
shhhhhh you said.
shhhhhh you’re okay.
shhhh

No,
No I’m not
this isn’t okay.


why am I not enough
the way I feel is too much
I shouldn’t have to hold it all back
You’ve turned me into an insomniac

Can you not see me? Am I not there?
I used to be everything to you, now you just don't care

If we pass in the street, you look the other way
I hope to catch your eye but you shy away

You're with someone else now, laughing at his jokes
Fluttering your eyes and lighting up his smokes

I don't even know him but I hope he hurts
When it's his turn to watch your sly little flirts

Feel the pain that I felt as you slipped away from me
Saying "it's me not you" as you explain you must be free

A cloud hangs over me, my stomach has cramps, a knot
What's the point of carrying on?
None, that is what

It was a hope, but mostly me,
rust red and tired—
resembling the person who you’d
take the time to tell goodbye.

It was.

Now such a hope is taking shape
as that pretty sight you see
in your rearview mirror—
perhaps,
the shape of the clouds
outside of your window seat—
either way, she
dons designer shades,
a wickedly telling curve
on her lips,
and her *******—
a beacon,
held proudly to the sky.

Look I'm here
Waiting just for you
To come and get me
To take me far away
From all there is right now.
Come and get me future.