I feel your energy
before you touch me;
the current surges
under my skin.
Tai chi master teaches
me to move paper
without a graze;
feel the waves in the
air and push them
forward; bend the sheet
hanging over my
door, fold it in half.
I took you to the
forest once, showed
you how to hug a tree
without scratching skin
against bark. It will
hug you back—
from its trunk,
embracing you — us.
That’s how you’ll
know death is never
the end; permanent is
a relative term. We
lie our heads by
tombstones, let the
blades of grass sprout,
tickle our fingertips—
multiple kisses from
beyond the grave.
Written for #frapalymo (the German version of NaPoWriMo) is hosted by FrauPaulchen. Prompt: envisioning the invisible motions. Originally published May 22, 2016.
He calls me weird because I like cheese
on my hotdog, slaw on my burger.
When the fire dies down, I pour lighter
fluid on the charcoal pyramid, blacken
my chicken. He tells me I burn all the
flavor, but he’s never had salmon coated
in butter, a mix of paprika, cayenne pepper,
salt, onion and garlic powder sprinkled on
both sides, charred in a cast iron skillet.
I take him down South where the Spanish
moss grows heavy. We dip our toes in the
bayou, and he says I’m crazy not to fear
the gators, but we catch them and fry them
like chicken, dip in buttermilk ranch and
pop them in our mouths. In the morning,
I’ll show him how to sauté Cajun shrimp,
garnish it over sharp cheddar grits. He’ll
learn cheese goes on everything, and
nothing he’s eaten before ever tasted better.
#frapalymo (the German version of NaPoWriMo) is hosted by FrauPaulchen and translated from German into English by Bee at Just Fooling Around With Bee. The double prompt for yesterday & today is: “normal” and “crazy.”
We share the month of March. I want
to make love to my birthstone. Ghostly
reflection of my masculine self. Your eyes
are like pools of aquamarine. Turquoise
tears pour from your irises into my mouth,
cool my throat when you lie on top of me.
Love or lust — I drown in the mist of you.
Our water is manmade
They dig mile-wide
ditches with shovels,
fill it with rain.
sinks in torrential
soil, water flow in
and out, floods
that quench thirsty
#frapalymo (the German version of NaPoWriMo) is hosted by FrauPaulchen and translated from German into English by Bee at Just Fooling Around With Bee. Catching up on yesterday’s prompt, which was: “a river poem.”
This forest in May. It haunts my whole life;
I climb a low-hanging branch, scrap wet moss
across my thigh. Bark peels under my fingernails,
embeds in my skin, and I bite out each splinter,
blood dribbling on my tastebuds, smeared across
my bottom lip, around my mouth; I extend my
tongue to the tip of my nose — war paint for
the angels — climbing higher to the floor of the
clouds. The crows call to black wings that slit
open my shoulder blades, enclose around sun
in solar eclipse, casting shadows on earth below.
#frapalymo (the German version of NaPoWriMo) is hosted by FrauPaulchen and translated from German into English by Bee at Just Fooling Around With Bee. Today’s prompt is the first line from Tomas Transtromer’s poem, Alcaic: “This forest in May. It haunts my whole life.”