on wet wood

Black ants and poisonous snakes-
Creeped out and slithered around-
The rotten wood full of ugly desire-
As I ignite the fire.

on Shakespeare

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
Summer of terror and discontent;
The funeral of Shakespeare’s sonnet-
As I weep in tragic.

on pouring rain

Sunday is in silent agony;
Lights out, curtains down;
Angry sky cries in vain-
As I mute the rain.

on bittersweet coffee

One, two and more of grandé
Iced-cold caffeine in my blue vein;
Hands are still, the world’s unstirred-
As I sip the last drop of despair.

Lay your hands on my cold and fragile bottle;
hold the cork and twist me-
gently--
slowly--
don’t stop until you hear me pop;
set my spirit free and I go astray-
into your soul so weary;
close your eyes, smell the earth in me-
herbs, tobaccos, vanillas, trees-
savor the aroma of heavens;
now pour me down in the empty glass-
of love and affection;
touch me with your lonely tongue;
indulge my warmth-
wrapping your delicate heart;
little sips-
after
little sips;
until-
you lose control.

O fair Helena descending-
How could you not look at me?
You were once Narcissus in the meadow;
Kissing the soil-
Blooming with lavenders-
Basking in the afternoon sun-
Where did all your sunshine go?

Your blurry reflection-
       of somberness;
                  heavy eyes;
                          calloused hands;
                                 disheveled hair;
                                   timid air-
                    
                               Dismayed the goddess in you.

                                          Faded golden lyre;
                                     Withered Pierian roses;
                                      Crushed altar of flame;  
                                            Mortal madness!
                                    Ascend back to the divines-
                                    Depart from this mortal coil;
                                 Be the Narcissus in the meadow.