Posts for June 21, 2016 (page 2)

Poem 21, June 21  

Ange, Poem One

She
I don’t let him kiss me on my lips— the painted—the natural,
Not even when cranberry and vodka bring happy words to my mouth,
is my thirst quenched,
my sister, whom I love like green persimmons,
I thirst.

Sister
He made you buy your house.
My husband says he probably got a kick back.
Says he wants to be your lover.  

She
Were you like that with him?  

Sister
We were never like that.
I see how happy he is when we drink wine.
I see how funny you are after you drink wine.
You delight in him.  

She
And your point is what exactly?  

Sister
He has no right to look into your eyes
and adore you.
Your eyes are dark,
lighter than your skin,
Madagascar sister.  

She
He does not stare at me
because his eyes are blue;
not because my skin is lighter than my African    
cousins. He is a poet. He seeks words.  

Sister
He stares at you because he is an artist.
He wants to paint you naked.  

She
Say what you mean,
you whom I love;
you whose words I liken to brine water.
If not your words,
you may speak your husband’s words.    

Sister
My husband is wise,
sister whom I love.  

She
What does your wise husband say?  

Sister
He says your bed
where you rest your head
is high off the floor and wide
and all he wants is in it.  

She            
My bed has no vermilion cliff.
It has no verdant moat.  

Sister
I don’t know what that means,
my sister dear.  

She
Go ask your wise husband,
my dear one.
He, who knows everything,
will understand it best.

                                            Socialite Party

A hard-liquor crowd
women with puffy hair, heavy with jewelry–
good teeth regardless of age.
These women are taken care of.
Money makes a well-oiled machine.

When a looker strolls by
on a Thursday afternoon
and dry cereal gets caught
in your throat
and your lungs are
incapacitated
by silk-
nope, that’s hair-
on that pretty head,
and that chiseled jawline
breathes life back
into your bones
and just-
GOD!
What kind of evil world
do we live in that
the Picassos of the gods
seldom choose folks
with a dangerous affinity
for deep dish
stuffed crust
supreme
Chicago style pizza
as life partners?
Such
a tragedy!

Lines of Ain Soph Aur 
Blinding eyes, focus, white balance
Perspective shift

I was looking for the purest
But I got caught in your current
That freshly burnt my eyes.
Like the rude awakening
Of adulthood,
A gap in time of lost Children.
Where people go two ways:
To live life of substance abuse,
Or to find another meaning.

It’s the first full day of summer. I roll the trash bins out at 6:30 A.M.. A warm wind ripples the trees, and there she is. Full strawberry moon. Dawn spreads pinkberry tendrils around the dome of sky. The moon’s a pale blossom miracle, luminous in her descent.

strawberry dawn

full moon dayglowing

wind in the chimes

Good Morning,

Effective today the company will require employees to install iScete waste monitoring systems on all personal facilities to continue employment past the August 1 deadline.

The iScrete will continuously monitor employee output and interface with smartphones or fitbit  for reporting.

This enhancement will allow the company to maintain its’ Zero Tolerance Policy and our Wellness Goals for the coming year.

While all found substances will be reported to your HR Mentor and your insurance representative, this will not currently be reported to law enforcement unless required by law in your state.

(Many states already require t-monitoring for social services, driver’s licenses, etc.)

Others using your facilities should carry their smartphones into the bathroom to prevent misidentification.

Undesirable substances in employee excretions may be cause for disciplinary action, up to and including termination. 

See an updated list on our associate website or contact your HR Mentor.

Have a Great Day!  

HR Mgr

Upon paradise I find myself
Gazing into one more time
With memories hollowing my stomach
For what was once my everything

Angel with the flaming sword
Grant me admittance again
Oh please, you’re the only one
And I need your permission
For once break, let me partake
Of gifts once given freely

Or deliver me to a land
So full of distraction that
I can’t possibly regret
How easily it all came apart

man gives woman
knife  

woman slices off
breasts  

drops them
on silver platter  

hands cold
metal to man  

man licks lips  

there’s some irrevocable beauty
that lies within the expression of
words. whether it be the
ambiguity, or impressionable bluntness.
something bitter, yet tasteful
as if your pen itching to stain your paper
was enough to let your muffled mind
speak.