Thursday, January 31, 2013


Music filled streets,
cloudy skies, chicken soup –
blended in a cup.

The night is approaching my eyelids
at mid-day.
Sovereign stars of the night
gather and swirl in my chest,
pulling my spine through an infinite space
where dreams are born,
and I pull them through the gateway
into this sodden world
where all dreams belong!


Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Pour Homme

The stillness ...
The coolish morning in the winter
smells like spring but
it's not quite here yet.

I dissolve into latte, and
don't wish to look back
under the night-sheets where
under raw flesh remains
the invisible woman.

Lavender breath, vanilla skin
marinated in Irish cream
and ... nuts.

Sometimes, I want to be a motorcycle -
polished and loved,
fixed and reassembled
down to the last screw ... but

a woman.

Published also by POETS' BASEMENT