We collided like a train rushing in from behind,
Your memory and I.
My breath stuck in my throat, unexpectedly.
Tears stinging my eyes, staining my cheeks, involuntarily.
Has your ghost been lingering, shadowed,
Waiting to spring upon me like a serpent in the grass?
Don't tempt me with that shattered past.
I'd gladly place the shards of history's heart back into your hands.
Blatantly disregarding every reserve my mind fires,
Happily risking it all just to taste our youth.
Begone with you phantom! If that's what you are.
Stay only if your monstrosity lingers well into our future.

Trust is a tricky creature.
It slithers its way
into our hearts, our souls.
It coils itself into the darkest chamber
inside us and calls it home.
It stretches and makes itself
comfortable until it
winds itself around our lungs,
constricting all breath,
all reason,
all sense.
And then it pierces
our most vital *****,
silencing its drumming and
injecting a poison that
swims through our veins,
paralyzing us
from the heart down.

-bes-

Serenity coils like a Babylonian serpent
around simplicity and sincerity.
The soul burns eternal, perennial fathoms
of expansion and purity in wisdom and the search
for the crown of grace in this reality.
A crown not made of gold.

the serpent slithered into your heart
spewing a poisonous spray
she seduced
lied
cried that you
need to know
she hurt you
when she hissed
all the secrets and non truths
of knowledge
she killed
My chances
With every word that slipped from her
Serpent tounge
A flower
an apple too tempting
But in a tree
a garden
Of sweeter fruit
A seed of desire
Sowed into a prosperous garden
Of could have beens
Of maybes
Watered
With the withering
Of a mouse's slow start
Slowly ****** clean by
A dry serpent heart

Anger, is the steaming red on her face
refusal creates in an instance;
jealousy is foaming green
profusion of colors in motion
takes this dance for them to upward
and downward turns,
or a sudden dissolution---
an intense ****** in unison.
Even in darkness he  can see the
spasmodic ebbing waves
sleep is the banana plantation
where night wears translucent green
"nobody would see us here"
she whispers in his ears,
as if they are thieving ***,eyeing
the yellow banana she likes, to play with

Purple is the psychedelic color
smeared on horizon when
dreams repeatedly fly down
like night bats and happen
the way mind designs
we don't want to leave the scene
of the dream even when we know well
that the show for us is now over
we just want to hang around
like the dog,  in the place
it  got a juicy bone.

Yellow is the banana song
that's heard as wave after wave,
by the blind bat squadron
that roams with raw aggression,
for raids above the plantations
Unripe bananas show green fingers
to say "NO! we aren't ripe"
like coy underage virgins.

Then, they ripen, go yellow
some even bright red, inviting
who is blue here is the sky
and those bats who got
the bananas still raw green

Night decents on the banana land
as the white umbrella of sun
is snatched by the dark maiden.
Black is the bat's wing extending
and folding like lust, umbrella and the like.

He finds her shivering fingers like a serpent,
on the banana trunk slithering down,
as he dreams bats, banana, blue sky
and she slithering over him.

She had wrestled with many a serpent that had wrapped its slinky body around hers, tightening its grip for death, squeezing every drop of life from her.   And each time escape had appeared to her by a slim chance, luck was there in the moment.   And there were wolves too, with voices oozing charm, dressed in style, in the woolly warmness of sheep, but hungry dogs, dribbling, waiting impatiently to devour a good meal.   She had run from them all, breathless, wide-eyed, heart pounding within the chase.

They wanted life....her life, desiring those beautiful things.   Needing to be full of all the good that was in her, to enable them to shine, as she did.

But things have changed, she scans the world with new eyes, in these untrustworthy days.   And now the living dead can only afford to hiss and growl in the darkness.   Not once will they get close enough, to lick the salt, and taste how delicious she is.   Not close enough, to hold on and wring her dry, not any more.

She sees them coming now, even before the day dawns.   She hears their mischievous desires, moan and rumble like distant thunder on a cool breeze.   It is always the same, as each one approaches; a cheesy grin, the freak in disguise, with its deep inhale of breath, ready to spin the hallucinogenic tale of their lives.

Their blatant nakedness wants to make her break out in a girlie giggle.   But she holds it in, stops it with a little finger against her lip.  Shines a sophisticated womanly smile, and asks quietly, "Who are you?"    Then turns her back, walks far away.   Never looking behind, not even a thought of it.  No fighting, no running.   And her heart remains quiet within.

Three words....and they are nothing.   Ignored, to complete disintegration.   Those mutants who prowl, to destroy her beautiful world.   Slain with a question they can never answer.   For even they do not know who they are.

Her light shines, just a little brighter.   Life goes on – life lives in her.

Do not lie to me
With the face of a God
Yet the tongue of a demon.
Lest, in face, I perceive
My wound as the mercy of
A Dagger of Truth

Nay, do not lie.

For with that mark I'd lie bleeding
Ignorant of your
slice
A piercing
Your knife still in my lungs
a Serpent's sword
It is not fair.

In a lie I'll die a thousand lingering deaths
And never feel a pain

With a truth I am wounded until my body
Heals me, to rise again

So do not give me a lie.

Hurt me

And allow me to live

He sits under that apple tree
on gnarly knoll beside the glade.
He thinking, haven't I done well
with the decisions he had made.

The first I heard that male voice
just droning on about his Rib.
The thing is though if I complain
his face exudes a lamented jib.

He calls me Woe-Man just for fun
and reckons now his troubles start.
Thinks I have got it all my own
when all he does is Moan and ****.

God told him I was called Woman
this name provides him with a joke
at my expense amusements aim.
Its aim to hurt and cause provoke.

His rib he gave with good intent,
perhaps he should of dwelt upon
the reasons for such hankerings.
I do believe a selfish one.

This man whom needed company,
so afraid of being alone
wanted something to rule upon.
Something to order and to own.

In his mind there was no doubt.
Sharing his home with such a one.
This Paradise that he calls home
will be so different when I’m done.

Expected handmaid I shall not
if he thinks this is what I be
a shock is coming so immense.
The man is blind but soon shall see.

Paradise they call this place.
I had no choice in coming here.
But now I am I make the most.
And certainly wont live in fear.

He’s quite attractive to the eye.
He makes his creator a good son.
There are many things I can improve
like make him put some trousers on.

I only ask him for one thing.
The smallest favour is all I ask.
In his deluded simple mind
he turns this into such a task.

That apple hanging true and bright
gleaming in the mid-day sun.
I yearn to taste a little bite
but he says No! and thinks he’s won.

He plies me with every other crop
but mind is set on other fruit
he tells me this is God’s demand
but in my mind I’m resolute.

I only have one friend in life.
Charming serpent of my acquaint.
Such an helpful companion
but evil is what my man must paint.

My serpent friend is always ready
to help me gain my aims in life.
Reminds me that my husband should
show some allegiance to his wife.

I wonder how, if I withdraw
with certain charms that I do hold.
This will change his manly mind
and leave him feeling that I'm cold.

I swoon around in tender pose,
temptation broiling in his mind.
Portraying naked silhouette
with glistening breast and smooth behind.

Positioned touch in private place
his temperature wont take much more,
he’ll soon pay with forbidden fruit.
The price he pays to bed his *****.

Resolve is lessening by the hour,
too make sweet love will surely sway.
He’ll promise anything for this
a price that he shall dearly pay.

Eventually my way is won,
the fruit positioned at my feet.
I got my way his will undone
but apple tastes so far from sweet.

I know not where my friend has gone.
To lose a friend is far from good
then God turns up so far from pleased
and chases us from gardens wood.

Cast from Eden is our fate
our goods and home suddenly gone.
Evicted we pathetic pair
just us to walk this world alone.

Why didn’t I listen to that man
instead of taking serpents phrase.
Perhaps I may of listened more
if only he had shed some praise.

Is there a moral I can say
to help others if I can.
If only I had remained a rib
there'd never be another man.