A slip of the tongue
Catastrophic or divine?
Relies on context.
Impassioned French kiss.
Or ill-timed revelation,
History decides.
Grasping at secrets
Clasping at ripped bodices
Consensual lust.
Category: Haiku
Sunday Sundae
We went for a ride
In the convertible for
An ice cream sundae
The cloth top was down
But the windows were rolled up
Brisk evening breeze
Weekend’s last hurrah
Radio plays summer’s hit
Dancing On My Own
http://youtu.be/q31tGyBJhRY
Hymns and Hell
Sweet hymn fills my soul
clear voices lifted in praise
on this rock I stand.
Heed the song’s message
Jesus loves all the children
not just those like us.
And on Judgement Day
when the trumpets sound their call
He will know your truth.
I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking lately about faith, religion, and politics. You see, one day this week a “Christian” woman informed me in a tone seething with hatred that I was bound for hell if I voted for Hillary. I smiled and promised that I’d be sure to save her a seat.
Christians come in basically two types of wrappings: those who are of the hellfire and damnation persuasion and those who follow Christ’s teachings. I’m pretty happy being in the second camp.
I have many non-Christian friends, among them Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, agnostics, and atheists, and I learned a long time ago that goodness and decency aren’t the sole property of Christians. And those same virtues are sorely lacking in some who claim Christianity as their religion.
Heaven and Hell? Well, they might exist, but I know that how I treat others in this life is more important than any promise or threat of an afterlife. One other thing I know is that my teacher, Jesus, wouldn’t turn His back on refugees.
Peace, people
Perfume
Crisp as lemongrass,
fresh as the scent of mown hay;
nature’s own Chanel.
Ozone scented sky
charged by electricity
and airborne spirits.
Earthy loam and soil,
the tangs of birth, life, and death,
ashes to ashes.
Under Water Blues
Submerged in despair
an ocean’s weight above me
blue green light suffused.
Lungs filled to bursting
an ache of throbbing restraint
once exhaled, peace found.
Do not cry for me
I longed for this deep silence
the heart’s true stillness.
Don’t Mind Me
I’m in the corner,
shut away from the spotlight.
hiding from a truth
A glass of Merlot
rich, red, and vibrantly deep;
isolation’s balm.
No person ventures
near enough to engage me;
I’ll sit near the fire.
Secrets
Whispered words of love
Skipping through the universe
Reverberating.
Fingers fumbling,
Tangled in accoutrement
Hooks on lingerie.
Overwhelming heat
Lingering touch, here, just here
Words insuffcient.
Strings
Cue the violins
Tugging hard on my heart’s strings;
Mournful strains of loss.
Ties that closely bind
My yearning soul to your own;
Ever tightening.
Invisible routes
Crossing ordinary lives
Connecting ley lines.
The Struggle is Zeal
Libras seek balance
In a world where there is none
Struggle is futile
Zealously defend
What the universe demands
Jealously protects
Still we soldier on
Weighing effort against time
Feigning sacrifice.
Gateway
“Gateway“
Overgrown, cloistered
broken path beckons enter,
mysteries await
Beyond yon gateway
sweet surcease entices all
safe harbor perhaps?
Or a peaceful mask
for unbounded violence
does this door provide?
We find as we seek
death or life, evil or good,
poison or sweet balm
Enter then at risk
of encountering your fate
heart safely guarded
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Praying for Eyebrowz 