Poemflesh

#387


I sang a song
deep through turning seasons
oh the wonder

as sweet rain
began to restore and rebirth
that which I

thought was lost in me


Cynthia M.
11:19
1.06.09

Poemflesh

A Gracious Epiphany to All of my Precious Supporters*

This journey and commitment to daily writing began
one year ago, and I am happy to have found the will to
honor a commitment, that for once I made to myself.

Thank you, poets, writers, crafters and curious readers-
I love how you have been such generous human beings
at a time when I desperately needed to know there are
still people out there who care in small yet countable ways.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxox,
Cynthia

Poemflesh

#386


The photographer, part 1


when the doorframe fell
she adopted the fetal position
and mourned the clothes shaved
0ff earlier, in a dizzying-lust.

her heathered grey coach hobo lay
open across the room, silk blouses ooze
out like honey, a gold lighter flickers
in the sunlight taunting her.

magalia attempts to untangle herself
from the frame as lover takes cold-eyed
photographs of her fall, becoming
increasingly flushed and demanding.

the large room narrows,
sound is muffled and magalia can hear
leaves cry as the wind slices through
each vein, howling and trembling
in satisfaction. lover is on top of her
now and the camera is finally spent.
she feels her limbs being spread out,
her hair fingered into a fan,
when magalia awakens the strap
of the camera is around her wrist.
she begins whispering apologetic
melodies learned in childhood,
from her older, beautiful step-sister.

downstairs at cafe, magalia, wears a
black lace mantilla fashioned from her
sister's handkerchiefs and lover dons
a tweed cap. they devour pastries while
steeped in the thick, hot aroma of strong
coffee and thicker and hotter love,
or something they each prefer to love.




Cynthia M.
10:03
1.05.09

Poemflesh

#385

mindset


my mind gathers roses, places them on my weakness
and this failing becomes disguised as lovely frailty
when in reality these feelings are self-centered weeds



cynthia m.
7:29
1.04.09

Poemflesh

#384


crystal butterfly


the drowsiness is delicious
slipping down from a leaden head
body full of flowers
pulling apart at the stem
petals everywhere, petals sticky
along the stem
dribbling red

flat against the ground the sky meets me
clouds circling about like an anxious crowd
shouting: jump!
but i already have, i insist
or i think i said something

here comes temptation
oh the scent, the weight on my slimness
is freaking amazing - i'm in love!
want more, push me into the womb of earth
put roots on me, make me useless for another

dosed off, the rain pellets me awake
oh where or where has my savior gone?
must have been another trojan horse, funny yeah,
fine...then.

i'll just stay here until dawn
when those strong arms will carry me inside
come over my soaked dress, pretty
afterlove only the necklace will be left
my favorite one from my last birthday
a line of diamonds
diamonds are hard
i like how they can cut glass


cynthia m.
10:53
1.03.09

Poemflesh

#383

in late afternoon i'll ruin the sun


the sharp instrument
reflects a light from somewhere unknown
and her heart beats a little faster
her wings skim the hem of the blanket
the weight hinders the deed of her hands
but her hands are disciples, undeterred in

what has become her lofty desire
to become lighter than air, lighter than her wings even,
when the air is free of danger, pulses faith
as dusk's radiant purple opens after glaring yellow
that false sunshine forwarding slow burning deaths

.......


dawn cries
dew licks each blade of grass
shimmering love



Cynthia M.
11:13
1.02.09

Poemflesh

#382


severing the heart


paige has thin layers of flesh
nothing much to delve into
easy to cut
veins whispering to blue
tiny moans escape with each cut
the wind's agony
a defeated sound as the glimmer
of faith scuttles off
close to the ground

paige tries to stay near to the ground
dancing in slow broken ballerina
turns and lifts just like ma taught her
the hem of her hair collecting dirt
and enraptured lovers

her ankles shimmer with gold bracelets
writing footnotes in the quicksand
of her life when she isn't writing in the
journals she steals from dusty bookstores

her current professional-student poet boyfriend
is an incessant talker
his predatory tongue a fly swatter lapping up
her oxygen
paige leans back into the space away from him
to gulp a handful of fresh air

air filled with the spare hours
she undresses for him while he mimics Chopin
he serves her tea and scones which she never gets
a chance to eat because he's kissing her mouth
gleaning the last bit of her flesh

he does allow her to drink the cheap port he buys
the syrupy stuff he will only drink out of her crystal goblets
but it's too thick and red just like his tongue
spilling over her body like blood

in the bathroom paige is seduced by her own
razor sharp collarbone and her tiny breasts
she learns to embrace the ruby cuts
tiny burgeoning miracles
her boyfriend ignores
until he thinks he need to save her
to lick clean her sorrow
paige gasps as her last crystal goblet shatters.


Cynthia M.
7:03
1.01.09



.......

hear miracles
inside whispers of faith
accept JoY


cynthia m.
6:30

*for both poems - 3word wednesday 12.24 - thX.