giants stride the sky
playing catch with lightning bolts 
beating their war drums

ghost words lurk 
around my head
watching my pen inking
drops of soul
……across …. a book

khaibit

inspired by Normandi Ellis’s book, Heiroglyphic Words of Power.

Here, poet, take a first line.

Whisper to me in our secret language

Of deep-chested purrs and rasping moans,
murmured declarations of shared hedonistic euphoria;

All the ways in which I’m yours

I spotted my first firefly of the season

Dear God,
I come to you humbly to ask,
Why must I continue off the beaten path?
The wilderness is too wild.
I appreciate the provision, all the while,
I think there needs to be some revision.
I feel I’ve served my term for the sin I’ve earned.
Lord, please grant the clarity of my concerns.
I long to suffer no more, and this plea I hope will suffice.
I thank you for your son for the ultimate sacrifice.
I trust in you, and though frustrated, praises I’ll still sing.
Thank you in advance for letting freedom ring.

Crush cicadas under my heel

Blood mixed in the dirt

Syrupy spit hanging from your lips

I watch it drop

I know how it seems

Espresso staining milk

The smell of sweat and sex

Sunshine flecks dance on our walls

I watch them sway

I know what you think

Two sides of the same coin

Baby, it was never going to be easy

Shock comes first, then pain

You were never gonna get out unscathed

Love is supposed to change you

They floated into my lower field after the big flood,

Saffron blooms covering what should be green.

They are aptly named;

Butter cups.

They rise from the fat of the land.

After much working and overuse,

They spread themselves over the surface,

And there the comparison ends.

They burn the mouth with sores and ulcers.

Perhaps a rest will crowd them out,

And release my land from their strangling hold.