08 April, 2013

Jazz- Day 8

Jazz-club feelings
rattle the Sundaytime blues
with loud.

Rhythms uncharmed
but counted, circle through
fleshes, wild.

Keep the beat and
demonstrate abilities of
full adaptation.

Roaring temptations
pour outside, ringing through
shiny brass.

Silence sweats on,
causing sweet, unpredicted,
bare pauses.

07 April, 2013

El Asunto- Day 7

Inspirada por viejos amantes
y nuevas oportunidades,
se sienta bajo el sol.

Horas pasan, desnudas y
furiosas, demandando que
su inquietud se calme.

Las caricias del sol no
son suficientes para
enloquecerla.

La paciencia baja a un
nivel, sus pasiones como
un molino de chocolate.

Ardorosamente pausa,
bajo el sol, para pensar
en momentos extinguidos.

06 April, 2013

King Spa Haiku- Day 6

Curves are all around.
King Tut lets us pray and sweat.
Let’s just all relax.

05 April, 2013

Esposa Haiku- Day 5

The redhead's been hitched!
Phrasal verbs are her White Whale.
Esposas always.

04 April, 2013

Spring Fever- Day 4

Coats are flung on the floor
as electrons heat up the day,
the axial tilt creating
haphazard behaviors.

Aroused senses feast on
the circular, celestial
labors of rhythms that seem
effortless and intentional.

Woolen items, covering
curves and hibernation,
are crumpled into a pile and
ignored until months pass.

Nights try to cool the avidity
felt throughout the day,
but the eve’s temperatures
do little to prevent.

Every morning gains speed
and warmth is carried
with smiles and embraces
that have waited patiently.

Smaller and thinner fabrics
mark desires that have rested,
gaining potential and
insane demand.

Excess light and lack of
obstacles in climate
create patterns in longing
meant to be repeated.

03 April, 2013

Aurora- Day 3

I awoke at dawn, with
a body covered in sweat,
cotton and Night clinging to my
electric, syncopating skin.

The Green from a bottle
splashed through the room
because of the new Sun
coming through the window.

No one could see what
I saw, Green and Sweat
sinking into sheets as I tried
to sway back to sleep.

This fever was lustful, not
viral, and so I breathed
quietly, allowing preserved
memories to dictate the day.