Archive for the ‘free verse’ Category



August 7, 2007

I don’t think I’ll make a real transvestite,
wear my heart in fire-engine heels,
and still walk straight, head high.
No, every morning, before I put on
my acceptable black pumps,
I cup the soles of my feet and
feel the weight of regret at
what I could never be: proud
and comfortable with my identity,
unafraid of being packed away in
the labels that would make
anyone craven, shirking
inside their own closets.

[this was a free write in’s tag-team-poem project the first line from lordfuznut]


pen pals

August 7, 2007

I found you in this mailbox
when my hand reached
inside to look for a laugh,
little did I know that
when I pulled you out,
you tickled my heart
so much, I just had to
keep you



July 13, 2007

At the mental seams
you and I were conceived,
(stitched from the rags
of empty arms)
souls joined at the hips,
grinding against each other’s need
to be. Above the bed lay
its parallel line (contract, horizon,
point of rest) where slept
the discovery that you and I
were not supposed to meet
in this illusion of a future woven
into our past-entangled arms.

[this was a free write in’s tag-team-poem project where one posts a poem and the next poster in the topic has to start the next poem with the last line of the previous poem…and so on, and so on… in short, the first line isn’t mine hehe…from Tekay]



June 24, 2007

I am a sidewinder

tongue, licking
thirsty lips as
my thrusting hips
sway their way to you

smoothly, weaving

belly, surfing waves
of hourglass sands,
winding side-valleys
marking hypnotic trails

only eyes can follow

you watch me shed
my skin- silk slipping
from shoulders,
hissing as it falls

on the floor. I am

slithering up your leg
contracting, coiling
around your snake:
pulsating soft flesh

of my sidewinder mouth.



June 17, 2007

Late afternoons,
it is this time
that I, a woman,
take my turn to ride
my husband’s jeepney.

I hoist myself up
on the driver’s side
then l o w e r my body
onto the seat and
swing my legs

My husband smiles and says:
“There, it’s your turn.”

I tentatively touch
the l o n g handle
of the gearshift, close my hand
around its head then
coax it in reverse.

Easing the vehicle onto the asphalt
it isn’t long before I am looking at the
of the road ahead.

My shoulders strain my shirt
as my hands and body
completely maneuver
this sardine can on wheels
as it thrusts
through the gas-fumed streets.

At every stop, a passenger
slithers and squeezes
his or her way between
the wet
sleeves and mixed odors
of other passengers.

A man behind me rests his
hand on my shoulder:
“para ho”
I grunt and snatch
the change on his palm.

It is not easy to do a man’s job
toward the end of the day
I drop my last passenger off
floor the accelerator,
speed through empty streets so fast
the sweat beads spatter on the windshield.

And despite the aches
a sudden urge wells up
to see my beloved.
I imagine him waiting
for me knowing that
I could never wait

to come to come god!

to c o m e


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Protected: Penis Envy

May 26, 2007

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May 26, 2007

I lie languid,
staring at ceilings,
taking comfort
in a box of
that look like
up-ended butts:
full and smooth
it is snapped
across the middle,
raining sweet
jagged pieces
into my mouth,
like aspirin
and scarring
my tongue.

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Questions and Answers

May 24, 2007



For Poetry Thursday on Dialogues.

Questions and Answers

You sat with me
under the sky-clad heaven
and I asked
if stars can be reincarnated
You laughed at my curiosity
and we blamed the world
for not knowing the answer:

I laughed and
found you
laughing with me.

I longed
to sit beside you
behind the moon
and find out how long
its shadow is
a little longer,
in some places , perhaps.
But I know we could do
without such questions.

I think I’ve had
a little too much
to drink.
And now stripped
of certainty, I am a child again
who grew up to fast
finding myself dizzy,
with slurred heart-confessions:

I laughed and
found you
laughing with me.

Behind the smoke
you exhaled and
the soul I inhaled,
we kissed,
tracing the beginning
of each contact
and I wonder
whether my lips
meant something more.

You wake me
from dreams
of chasing equal signs
making me realize
that reality is of two wholes
in a plane of acceptance.
My heart beats fast
to find yours
in the same incongruent sync:

I laughed and
found you
laughing with me.

I search with lips,
with tongue for
answers that might be
found under a blanket of skin,
on a bed of grass,
in a perfect equation.

Morning streaks
through the leaves
delivering a new-born star
making darkness irrelevant
because after all,

I laughed

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May 18, 2007

You left the lights on again…

I tread through
the floor that doubled
as your closet space,
carefully weaving
my way through the
empty coke bottles
and scratched CDs
you buy everyday.

My foot grazed
a stack of worn books
you taught me to read
and I tripped,
landing on the carpet
I took hours to pick
only to be patterned
by cigarette burns.

I lay still
staring at the
signed poster of
our favorite band
before pulling myself up
on the bedpost
you normally hung
the cap I gave you.

I sat on the bed
and stroked the stain
that you attempted
to get rid of
countless times
with bleach that
only ended up
wrinkling your hands.

I stood up
and approached
the switch,
longing to touch it,
remembering all the times
I disturbed your sleep
and begged you
to do it for me.

Instead I turned
and retraced my path,
resisting the urge
to leave a sign
of my trespass,
even if it was just
a simple act of
switching the lights off.

For you.

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May 18, 2007

Tonight I am on a pilgrimage.

I kneel before the bed
that is your pedestal,
gazing up at your image of
half-closed eyes and half-open mouth.
Like a good devout, I reach out to trace
the invisible skein of your senses,
fingertips trailing goosebumps
along your belly and inner thighs.

I bow my head to greet your other one,
beginning the slow litany of
caresses climbing your world-tree
using reverent lips that have
always chanted your name.
I speak in tongues that lick, flick
and swirl around in fervent worship,
until it is you that begs me
to take you inside the altar

that is my mouth.



May 11, 2007

You must find it
fascinating how–
moths are riveted
to the flickering pyre
you dangle
in between fingertips.
Its wings dance
alongside silent, gray tendrils
escaping your breath.
Circling around,
irrevocably drawn
to the sighs
that kiss your lips.
Saltine beads,
tease your temple,
then your cheekbone,
curving around your jaw.
A faint smile shows
your minute amusement
at how this creature
will leave a field of flowers
for the scent of sweat.
This drab cousin
of the butterfly,
craves attention
and will stay still
on your palm
staring up
in simple-minded wonder
at the meteor
about to burn
its wings.

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Black Label

May 10, 2007

Johnny Walked
into a bar,
his swagger prompting
the dancing crowd to part.

He made his way toward her
as she raised her glass
in greeting.
He stares into her eyes
with arrogance fermented
from bottles of anonymity.

They dance,
she succumbing to his tempo,
one mastered
with each sip,
each smile
in every blotted invitation–

intentions hidden
behind each gasp of
black swirling liquid,
through cork and stopper
(throat and chest)
through the labels
(one button after the other)
on the floor
(when weakened knees give way).

Johnny walked away,
his swagger a tempered warmth
providing a cold safety
that lingered in the dregs.

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