Archives for March 28, 2014

Finally alone

There’s a little spot between your thighs that brings great pleasure to arise. From your thighs to your toes all the way up to your nose. Tingling sensations of flirtatious engagements, leaves one to ponder further arrangements. Little drops of lustful incantation, brings forth a fire of blissful elation. Intimation turns to action and action turns to a teasing smirk–if this moment should continue then oops there goes the skirt.

No Cheese

There’s a little mousey who runs passed your door…More cheese he needs more cheese he wants, running from corner to corner as the cat starts it’s hunt. Faint gnawing sounds emitted by little dwarf teeth, gouging away at your edibles like you wouldn’t believe. Mom has had enough mom wants it dead.”Send in the pink death”. That’s what she said. Big men with canisters filled to the top, stormed into the house as my heart-strings collapsed into a knot. “Mom you can’t! Mom!”. I pleaded. My heart fell to the floor as I felt defeated. The men sprayed the house from corner to corner, roof to floor. Is there really any place left where they can spray any more… I watched as they left like the plague they came–so much arsenal was brought for this little mousey they wanted to maim… No more gnawing was heard at night no more shadows of big ears to give me a fright… What mom didn’t know what the men could not see, was they all decided to take a friend from me. Yes it ate my chocolate but in truth I would’ve shared. Why mom did you go this far when I couldn’t have cared. So no little mousey running passed my door no more cheese–because it needs no more…

The Beekeeper’s Daughter’s Suicide

The glory of wisdom and ego shrunk to accommodate the villagers
Wounding spirits.

She the significant one. She is my angelic conjured up myth
She who always tells me in her poetry to rise, rise again above volcano dreamers.

Liquid deep are the secrets of my heart. The stem of intimacy grows silently.
Give me enough rope and surely I will hang myself.

The handmaiden’s pulse is there. The muscle is there like unfinished things from childhood.
It pushes at the difficult thoughts I have.

They have a hard appearance from the outside like a seduction theory,
The blue steel of the sky, the land that borders on God, perplexity, sanctuary.

Like poverty and death, the angelic dream of it. I am as serious as an ill tiger,
I laugh like a hyena in the face of the man on the moon. I am a coping lioness.

My mother did not keep me from children who were rough.
She wanted me to experience the world (that humanity is a violent species).

My mother left me there hanging on for dear life. As a child the details of my life
Soon became embroidered by tortuous emptiness, the innoncence of autumn cast out.

Bold smile through her great depression. Wife interrupted. Mother of Frieda and Nicholas Hughes. There was always a journey of moving forward worshipping the past.

Where is the sun in an argument? Where is the physical body in flight in dream-mode?
She saw the skylines of New York, had a London experience, married an Englishman, a poet.

Solitude and loneliness, being an introvert should have been included in the commandments.
Her bright faith and loyalty, the love she had for her children was like music from the heart.

Her bright faith was as bright as the lights in Los Angeles. Her loyalty was a prize.
The glory of her bravery was unbalanced, and her rage was that most rare thing.

Sylvia Plath, daughter and poet, wife and mother, gone too soon to heaven.
Melancholia and of the sky in her eyes and the other half of her gone to hell on earth.

Bird, leaf, madness, jealousy all symbols of life, of humanity and so we come to adulthood.
Now her poetry educates young people’s minds now that she is no longer flesh, bone.

I think a present-day Sylvia would be reluctant to be called beautiful,
Lonely, misguided, depressive, and intelligent. A Sylvia who lived a madness life,

Who fell ill at the end of her life, is a Sylvia whose heroism lives on
In her poetry, her soul’s progress, the people who relate to it destination anywhere.