All I Wanted

All I wanted for my birthday
was a purple feathered parrot
with a trace of yellow or black
not a plate of T-bone steak
nor tall clear glass half-full red aged wine
I wanted a talking bird of many words
“Hello, goodbye, pretty girl”

I suppose I should have said
“I am thrill of this good gesture
of putting this little eating together’
Seeing that I was the centre piece of attention. watching folks stuffing their stomach, laughing
spewing food from the side of their mouth
chowing down potatoes, salad and Brussels sprouts
An occasion to celebration my day.

My stomach turned and how I wanted to shout
How I wanted to stand and say it
“All I want for my birthday is a purple feathered parrot”
In a silver cage and a gold plated gate
But I couldn’t, something moved me

My ear was buzzing. My eyes circled the colours
around the brown people dressed in black, pink and purple
their mouth was going, not battery operated
not a plug in, but a motor motion from the belly

And the thought of my own purple parrot went mild
My parrot was here, six to be exact
with many phrases, many words
not in a cage- not yet!
But one day they will, one day when they become the elderly
And their grey feathered hair peeing through a window cage
of a retirement home looking.

My Heart Is Forest Fire

My heart is forest fire
crispy leaves untouched
Foliage green, sweet bud;
budding up and coming
I am near-term to give birth
slow labour to deliver.

But the matchstick that once strike the skin
triggering the throbbing, bringing the tree to live
moulding the root in existence -
Now moving backwards

I taste his heart like white vinegar
filtering through pumping muscle valve
and the strong fist hold fast, stubborn to fall
abstain to feel, timid to taste
and I am crying water
and I am crying vodka
and I am crying blood
of the passing of love

The Pursuer

The pursuer speaks
Don’t have me waiting
on this long lonely road
I need to move
closer to you

I will take care of you
I have proof
Blood pumps emotion to my heart
lips spilling words of a desperate hurt
a wounded call wanting to heal
a hidden bleeding cut


I will be there for you
When your ankle hurts
from a long day standing at work
And your tired eyes fall asleep
on the settee watching TV
and you gently whisper save me
and your soft skin glowing
showing it needs my love
I will be home

God knows-
His hand guides my heart
saving me from a painful fall.
yet I refuse to walk
my eyes sees what I want
Please don’t gamble with my intentions
Don’t hold what is not yours. Vengeances
of past mistakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And my spirit turns
And my spirit cries
And his lips move like fingers
turning pages through a romantic novel
And his prophetic voice
reads like an open old bible
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And the Pursuer continues
You are my land
of rich productive soil
which flourishes and blossom
Into beautiful flowers.
Roots footed in owners love
I will take care of you
God knows.

In My Eyes

In my eyes
blues skies
green trees
And the River
shadow dark brown
Dark and hard

And we walk on the River
Stroll and march on it
without our feet getting wet,
maybe a soil on white
with a brush it comes off

But we walk
We do not swim
the waves are hard
and stifling hot
We breathe and embrace
the ups and down
we might drown

We might drown
in empty pockets
polluted politics
sorrow and hardship

And we briskly walk
Pounding strong
trying not to go down
Trying not to rain tears
to water the dry river
The one that moves around
in slow motion brown

And the nation flows
in a river of brown
and we are holding
while some are drowning
Drowning in tears and sorrow
in earths rough hard river
Dirt without water

The Moon Decides To Rest

The moon decides to rest
Cover its head under sheets of grey clouds
and the streetlights take over
Takes its turn with a low beaming glow

And it is late and peaceful
Not a sound of moving feet
Nor a sound of a living soul
And you step out from the babbling house
And you walk into peace
Into the street of silence

And you sing in peace
in the absent of the moon’s night
Walking by the first light
the second and the third
And your shadow goes before, takes lead
strolling to the beat of moving feet
Suddenly you feel Afraid

Sipping On Love

Sitting here sipping on love
Got a full cup and I’m drinking it up
the passion desire burning fire
Tasting sipping swallowing
Following the man I desire

My emotion is craving the flavour of his breath
My hands moving wanting his flawless flesh
Lips kneading his. Sipping .

Saccharine streaming water exchanges
between candy tongue
We meet
touching stirring six pack full of love

Grandfather Told Me

Grandfather told me
I had no voice to sing
and I stopped singing
and those beautiful words
I use to squeeze out of tune
lie low, lie still
for years and years

And the chorus flew south
did not return with travelling birds
and I did not sing
did not open my voice,
except to talk breathe or yawn

And grandfather sink
covered in soil to silent home
and I sing then
repeating passing hymns
only spirits with wings
and inquisitive wind could hear;
a calm inside hum
of a send-off song I sang to him

Lover Man

Lover man where are you?
A night light shines its glow
and cold wind holds on to my bone
Shelling ice in knee socket
drilling deep freezing feelings
my body too num for bleeding
Crisp like meat in a freezer.
Cannot thaw though my voice speak soft
and my heart is out pushing muscle
through seal tight, wrap
pumping breaking hard ice
Calling through bruise lips frost bite
begging for a warm night
Lover man where are you
I need you now

I Love When You Come Here

I love when you come here
With seal lips and sturdy hands probing
in poorly lit room. Touching here
moving there, around the glow of my fire

Striking match fingertips on my skin. Igniting
whimpering groans private moments.
Intimate motions undisclosed behind my door
And our time is slow and soundless
And the hour is like forever

A long Shifting shadow exhibit by the moon
only the sky can see but its mouth seal
Your lips conquering me in secret

And we are moving
and we are moving
and you are here; really here

A Dark Winter Month

A dark winter month
Clouds shadow the yellow sun
Skeletal tree stand still
no red or green scenery
no sign of nature’s life

Except for your breathing mouth
and the warming tongue
and the white delicate rose
falling fragile snow
There is no light

Snow

Snow flurries soaring
from lily white sky
Dogs on sledge pulling
boys and girls down hill
in windy weather
Snowstorm raging
pouring heavily from burden clouds
letting go of the ice
falling to the ground
forming beds cushion white

Calling Summer

Calling summer
Calling the brilliant yellow
to cover freezing white
layers of snow

Colouring my house gold
hanging balloons to boring ceiling
freezing Popsicles
slicing lemons for lemonade

Waiting
for summer to show its face
and stay forever
Tired of this cold weather
tired of this cold weather

Friend

Friend, I cannot tell you to leave
Neither can I say stay
Love is not on and off
running emotion from a water tap

But if

Friend, it is like this
Every human being resides
in a recyclable bin
Some empty, some half fill

You can pick and pick
search among the recyclables
Find tossed emotions waiting for love
Try to get your bottle refill

Away From The Blue

He says, come let me take you
into a different mood
away from this boring blue
to an optimist pink
the way things use to be

Let me stir you on a different scene
stimulating the senses
sweet-smelling roses caressing the skin,
sprinkling bubbly wine
on the tip of tongue- slowly
stirring the waiting mouth



Let me awake you to this
falling snowflakes passion rain
you and I sharing an embrace,
love in a romantic place
soaking wet in passion mist
Close your eyes and think
cherry crimson pink

Give It Up

Give it up
that “no body love me’ face
scarring a young-looking skin
to early wrinkle
and for what? For who?
True love is never far
will always find when you close the past
and open your heart for better

January A New Year

January, a new year
and the house smells drunk
of sweet fruit cake, red sorrel rum
and days old turkey rotting

Wine stain on white linen cloth,
a shade of brown sleeping drunk
The house is silent no sound
just colourful lights blinking
on a tall thin pine tree
and the unmoving acidy rummy
scent from drinking

Cleaning scrubbing bleaching
washing windows, polishing floor
removing Christmas wreath from the door
Staying focus ridding the house of odour

Throwing out useless unwanted gifts
like the sewer scented candle, ugly sweaters
stale box cookies, cinnamon stick
and other disgusting things

Except for the lovely cards, sweet potato pie
and the brown leather coat. I didn’t get much
just tons and tons of junk
And I am mad; mad that Christmas
the one-day visitor left me in such a mess

She Sits Before The Fire

She sits before the fire
flaming high bright yellow
lost in the crackling sound
of burning wood flashing sparks

She has not seen grandpa
two days pass


She knows something is wrong
but she knows not what
and we cannot tell her. Not now!

No, we just cannot extinguish the light
that keeps her going
that keeps her hoping

So we gather around commenting
on the fire’s bright light
And we say nothing

The Rabbit Coat You Wore At My Wedding

The rabbit coat you wore at my wedding
eloquently refine desert dust, stunning
hidden neckline, hook and eye front
long sleeves falling on wrist like a ringing bell
I remember it well
You gave it to me the very next day
Wrapped in a silver box just as you bought it
covered in protective seal plastic

I wear it to all my grand babies christening
in the same church, you first wore it then
Not as grand shiny and stunning
But still with sentiments; spirit of your lingering
wisdom family gathering scent

And it saturate on me and everyone you touch
when you were the vigorous powerhouse
commanding me to carry the red bloodline
cup in the palm of my hand. Trying not to spill
fragile family water to ground
striving to be strong, curving turmoil actions
rebellious views, resting to where you left ~peace

And here you are sitting before a calm fire
with high flames that does not burn
smiling with the eyes of Moses. Pleasing
Your job is done
leaving me with the secret rod -
The rabbit coat you wore at my wedding.