The Deceit of White Oleander

Winter mists the window panes
with veiny tributaries that trickle
to the sill with a warm touch.
The trajectory of time trails run  off
down the mountain side an affirmation
of spring the honey-sweet deceit  of
white Oleander.
Remain here until the birds sing
our disparity, till reality overshadows
dreams and tears and dew drops blend.
Then we will part.

 

 

Image result for Painting of a beautiful woman with a pink Oleander

Art by Rae Williams at Pinterest

Emerson on Friendship

 

(excerpt)

The huntress

TheFeatheredSleep

yes

She

knows her power

heaving out of her like

red clay forming stars

the power it has on

those who watch

unable to quit her

imperfection as much an aphrodisiac

as those fine lines converging into

her thin bones

drawn tight and ageless

she smiles a drowsy grin

down turned eyes glinting

the thin shake of her hair

sharp curve in high cheeks

noble and unrepentant

she has more confidence than you

with your excuses and your fumblings

could ever possess

if she’d taught you, she’d have said

no, no, no you’re doing it all wrong

if you want that woman to like you

be cold, be indifferent

and occasionally, throw her a scrap

don’t ever show her your full regard or

the depth of your eyes

heft her over your shoulder when the time comes

take her to a dark place and without apology

do what you must, thinking…

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forest song

House of Heart

Out here
I can hear the chatter of anxious birds. The wind and rain have shredded their nests. A sudden flight of wings fill wispy petals of clouds passing over.
Wandering further beneath the tall pines I hear their creaking branches stretch like old bones. Needing to be heard, the brittle crunch of leaves beneath my feet make their sound.
A White tail deer watches warily from a grassy knoll, his majestic antlers in silhouette against the splintered rays of sunset. My breath is but a whisper in this sacred place that offers everything and asks for nothing.

fantasy-forest.jpg

art by Lazada Philipine

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Interlude

I sigh, light my cigarette and turn to you.

Within this dream  I propose let us fly away.

Your eyes so dark

whip my mind into arousal and your

rugged hand  on my  thigh makes me

soft inside and everywhere.

You whisper that my  hair so near

and my lips a crimson darkness devours you.

Against waves of joy and sadness dreams are

always what it could be like.

Suddenly hares chase foxes and Roebuck’s

hunt hunters and I bury my face in your

chest and you shield me within  bleak arms

to not  see the terror  and we fly away.

 

Related image

art by Babylon Premium

 

 

 

 

The Letter

I left a message for you in a book.
It is like me to mark provocative phrases,
to shake them out in ponderous verses.
Do not read too much in the fallout,
the notes in the border are for nostalgia’s sake.
I dreamt of you  again last night
my adversary
Whose  aura I barely recall.
My suffering is not in knowing what is real  but  what is not.

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THE BLUE-EYED CAT

- MIKE STEEDEN -

blue eyed cat front cover

My new book: ‘The Blue-Eyed Cat’ has finally been freed from her solitary confinement within the lonely prison cell that is my dark and empty skull. At last at liberty, the world is now her oyster…although all indications are that her ideal preference would be pride of place upon the shelf of a grand bookcase from which her pages may be romantically caressed from time to time. Plainly she cannot have it all ways and regardless, it matters not for she is finally unfettered. Not that she would ever admit it, if the truth be told, that’s all she ever wanted.

Please Note: Not a book suitable for prudish Great Aunt Maud, the local Vicar, pious Uncle Percy, racists, sexists, homophobes, those of a sensitive disposition nor swoony types.

Important (possibly): One would suggest it might have the potential to appeal to free-thinkers, nonconformists, Mata Hari on…

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Send me a sign

 Pristine  as the south seas

Those eyes of blue green 

An angel without wings

I sent you a message

did  it  drift out to sea

I’ m watching  I’m waiting 

On the other side 

send me a sign