Tiki Bar

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With ambition
The tiki bar’s ‘tender
Takes cold mint leaves
To gently crush them
Into a glass for my mojito

I see his mood elevate
While serendipitously gazing
At my languorous gyrating form
The island music changes from
The daytime’s manic mamba
To the sensuous
Sunset rhythms now heard

Giving me my drink
His eyes and smile linger
Just a moment longer
To watch
One cool drop of condensation
Slide down from
My glass to
My fingertip to
My clavicle to
My solar plexus

Hands raised high
Above my head
I smile sinfully
Letting the swing
Of my well tanned body
Captivate
Before I meld
Into the impromptu parade
Of dancing bodies that pass by

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National Poetry Month – Day 8

I Dive

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Forever airborne am I
Vailing to my goal
Yet never landing

Living in day and night sky
Yet earth-bound without soul
Is so demanding

Sun and stars don’t ask why
Sentenced without parole
My time ever expanding

And like my brothers to do or die
I glide in complete control
Until I break notwithstanding

rosa-mexicana-fly

The decor at Rosa Mexicana Restaurant. You cannot really see it in the pictures, these figures cover an entire wall of cascading water in precision. Though an homage to the La Quebrada Cliff Divers of Acapulco,  Mexican, renowned for their diving skills, these particular dives ever sail through the air never to land (unless the rod that holds them in place breaks).

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National Poetry Month – Day 7

Straight Up

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As I am walking back from Starbucks I see this guy in The Commons, casually walking opposite me, heading towards my direction. A natural ginger, his hair was a thick curling ombre of dark russet at the roots, to the much brighter near strawberry blonde tips where the sunlight touched. The overall effect was that of an ochre nimbus of sorts as he strolled.  But that was not what caught my attention.  Was he attractive? Yes. Oh yes. Not in the he could be a model vein, but definitely eye-catching and holding. I smile behind my grande whole milk, low foam, no water, extra shot, dash of chocolate, but nothing complicated chai cup, watching a couple of college girls turning their necks in an Exorcist worthy near 180 degree twist as they notice him pass.

What really struck me about him was his stature. He stood, or rather walked, very straight.  Not the tight gripped; stick up the arse kind of straight, either. Most of tall adults I know, male and female, walk with a slight curve to their shoulders and backs from years of ducking doorways etc.  Not him. His stride is confident, shoulders relaxed and straight.  Yet there was a definitive uprightness to his posture.

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s not polite to stare?”

I was not aware of staring, but clearly I was as he stopped right in front of me with his teasing chastisement. Caught by surprise I simply said exactly what I was thinking.

“I was admiring your erectness.”

“What?!”

He blinked, looking at his crotch and then back at me incredulously. Only then did I realize my wording. Crap! So that’s what that feels like from the other side! Such Freudian slips are so rarely accidental from me that I caught my own self off guard.

“Your posture! I meant your posture! Your posture is very straight for such a tall guy. Oh Jiminy Crickets!” I nearly spit out my chai, fumbling over my words and laughing, making a concentrated effort to keep my eyes on the head I can see.

“Good save!” He grinned. “My chiropractor, proctologist and I thank you.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” I laugh walking away. “You enjoy your day!”

“I most certainly will now.” His fading chuckle reached me.

I bet he’s still laughing.

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Slice of Life Writing Challenge | Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge – Fly

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rosa-mexicana-fly

 

rosa-mexicana-divers-wall

Decor at Rosa Mexicana Restaurant. You cannot really see it in the pictures, these cover an entire wall of cascading water in precision. It is an homage to the La Quebrada Cliff Divers of Acapulco,  Mexican, renowned for their diving skills.

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Cee’s Odd-Ball Photo Challenge 2015-Week 14

022714-odd-ball

 

If You Had Just …

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If you had just

Taken one more breath

For you will always win it
As long as you’re in it

If you had just …

Take one more breath,
Inhaled just one more time

Showed so many others how,
What stopped you now?

If you had just …

Take one more breath,
Inhale one more time
Maybe that would have made the difference

Because “taken by her own hand”
I still cannot understand

If you had just …

Taken one more breath
Inhaled just one more time
Maybe that would have made the difference
Between choosing to live or end your existence

Just. One. More. Breath

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Still reeling

 

The Process…

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And thus the process starts and ends with me
 I wake with the warmth of the new spring sun
 And break through my covers damp and earthy
 The first stages of life newly begun
Through summer I grow and
 Bloom; recreating myself and
 My brethren once more in the
 Flight of birds and bees.
 
From autumn’s wings we land upon the ground
 In winter’s cocoon I slumber once more
 Then like the phoenix rise again in spring
 And thus the process starts and ends with me
  

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Theme – Thursday | Spring

National Poetry Month – Day 3

A Ragged Shiver

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A ragged shiver down my spine
One I’ve not felt in oh so long
Like rain rolling down my jaw line
Been years since I last heard that song

It felt right as we played mahjong
A ragged shiver down my spine
Sweet record of love for lifelong
Those remote days when you were mine

Left no room for love to resign
The range of how we’re both headstrong
A ragged shiver down my spine
The reasons how it went all wrong

The radio plays the damn song
Rubs nerves where memories entwine
All of love’s joys and pains along
A ragged shiver down my spine

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Playing with the Quatern form again.

National Poetry Month – Day 2

Ravenous

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 .
.

His eyes line with mine
And I devour their mysteries

As I hold his gaze
And play with his mind
As he eyes my prize
The mystery revealed
Behind the long stemmed promises
The curved mocha silk
Of my open thighs

My lips on his mind,
As our bare bodies intertwined
I know
He wants to intoxicate himself
Just from the scent
Of my womanliness

Up and down,
His eyes take in all of me

Down and up,
I measure the depth
Of his love…making…my heart flutter

The ground beneath me vanishes
And I sink deep
Into his mercurial ocean
Swim in his sapphire sea
Drown
In his eyes

And am resurrected
By his honey-coated lips
My desire drips
Moist off of fantasy

 In my mind’s eye, I see his eminence
And all things that make him a man
In my arms he fades
he submits

Weak from his control, his slow motion
Body and thoughts worn
Watching him from afar
My eyes drawing him again
Into my lust
His smile melting the core of my femininity
His raw hands sculpting
The wonton I’m happily to become

And he advances towards me,
Eyes still lined with mine,
A sly smile playing across his lips
A smile that tells me
Everything I feel, he feels
Everything I want, he craves
Everything I am, he needs

And right now I am

Ravenous

 

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National Poetry Month – Day 1

Good-bye

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She hears someone
ask a question,
but ignores it
only having eyes for the man
lying before her

Fingers
once plump with life’s bounty
are now long and slender
the joints so pronounced
In her hands his grasp
is now a far paler shadow
of the bone-crushing grip they once bore

The last vestige of thicker memories
his hair, in its continued unruliness,
belies its current state of thinness
as she gently pushes it back from his brow
Just as she used to do
in much younger days

Like his fingers,
his once round face
has been redrawn
into an austere beauty
She ignores the breathing tube
resting against the now sharp lines
of cheekbones and jawline

She looks up at the nurse
finally hearing his question
Yes, she nods slowly, she will be okay,
eventually
Then with a violent shake of her head
belies that
and feels her husband’s arms
quickly surround her
when the tears flow
as she looks back once more
at their son

The pain gone, his eyes
are amazingly clear
as they no longer stare back
into her red rimmed ones
until she reaches up
and gently closes them

Forever

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It’s Open Link Night | Week 145here at dVerse ~Poets Pub. My now three day old mood has clearly affected my muse as well. I’m out of town for the weekend, hopefully a different scene makes a better attitude.