Inhale
Air
Blows in Summer
Air freshener the skinny bones
Rain and millions of stars shines brightly
Rain on down heavy drops from above
Mud darkest puddles
Rainy
Just to wet us on up
And blossoms out those lavender pinkish Rose’s
Hour One: Something Ending
How foolish I have been to have charged blindly into the fray
A world too cruel, too sharp for innocent girls’ eyes
Stumbling through things not meant for me
Fleeing a place I no longer wished to be
How has this world twisted me, bent me, made me what it wished me to be
Pulled and turned, leaving nothing but a dangling fray
Wishing I did not have these eyes
Wanting to be blind to what they’ve done to me
How is it possible that I no longer know how to be me?
Wanting to please, just be who I’m supposed to be
I’ve acted the part so long my soul is only that fray
I’ve adjusted my sight to the illusion, mirages before my eyes
I still look back on that day when I rushed away with tears in my eyes
I wonder how I could’ve let this happen to me
When there is so much more I could be
As I rebraid the fray
Coffee and Change (Hour 2)
Earthy, nutty, smooth, warmth
cradled between two hands.
Slowly sipped, savored.
The clock ticks,
oranges and yellows streak the blue sky,
illuminating fuzzy thoughts
that slowly coalesce into purpose.
Coffee and Change
Coffee and Change
I’ll have a super European sounding large
half-caf, double oat milk
with a raspberry syrup shot – make that two –
white chocolate and raspberry syrup alternately drizzled down the sides,
so I can see them through the clear plastic single-use cup,
with triple foam
and an extra shot of raspberry drizzled on top
spelling out “Amelia Bloomer” – in cursive –
with a raspberry dotting the “I”.
And I need it quickly
so I can avoid having to take the Northbound #8 in fifteen minutes
when it gets too crowded.
And I’d like that extra hot
so when I eventually
get to the bottom
of the cup, it’s not too cold
to drink.
Maybe the guy over there should do it.
You always get it wrong
and I end up tossing
half of it out because
it’s all syrupy and gross by the time
my lunch break rolls around.
Then I’m wasting my $6.47 again and my day is ruined.
Oh, and I’d like to pay it forward;
a small regular
for anyone who comes in and
looks like they can’t afford it.
Can you break a fifty this early in the morning?
Hour Two – The Deep
Brilliant reflections
Sunrise on the soul of the Deep
What will protect the sea?
The soul of the Deep
when all that is left
are marine research venues
with beautiful architecture
“the world’s only submarium” the fliers say
The soul of the Deep
is surely more than seven shark types
among the thousands of other sea creatures
More than two and a half million
litres of water and 87 tonnes of salt…
But…
read the reflection in the mirror
Who will protect the sea?
And God Made Beans!
In my caffeine-powered,
auto-pilot
paean,
Sweetened by those
sugar-roasted
beans
Live forever,
Hail thee, Bean immortal!
Baptized Muse
encaffeinated
glow,
a mighty rush
mid-macchiato
flow.
Chocolate-melt endorphin spike.
Decaffeinated? Take a hike!
Live forever,
Hail thee, Bean immortal!
A song of triumph,
Solemn chant,
A cacao-crusted,
Mocha rant,
Monster-java,
Never scant.
Never changes; It just can’t!
Hail thee, Hail thee,
Brew and Bar
Hail thee, hail thee,
Near and far!
Roast thee forever!
Bean immortal!
what will be will be
the anticipation this morning
of what the day will bring
takes my breath away
the first cup of coffee
the glow of sunlight
the scent of the roses
the song of the birds
fill me with thanks
because today was meant to be
my last day so they said
but not to worry I say
what will be will be
Red Moon
It was the celebration of
Summer,
The Strawberry Moon.
A full moon to bring in the
innocence gone wild
and to call in
the dances of the animals from
their slumber of restlessness.
Instead, the sky was screened in
a translucent cloth of
smoke,
making the
Moon red.
Cries soared the air as
homes dissipated to ashes,
covering the nearby towns.
Plumes of all shapes rose,
wanting to escape
the heat of an angry bird
that once was called legend.
The fire flew to one town
then
to a forest
eating what was not offered.
Ashes mimicked flakes of snow
dancing, floating in the wind,
instead of melting,
it was a crude reminder:
The Phoenix lives
when we make mistakes
to not care for Mother.
A reminder that it will turn
the moon red
with our guilt.
Homage to a Drag Queen
Homage to a Drag Queen
Love is love on my Valentine’s stationary.
It’s not cliche, today
Pride is more acceptance.
You no longer closet your feelings,
celebrate coming out,
shout your homosexuality.
Today you can sparkle in glitter, not a quitter
inside your cotton candy pink or lavender wigs.
Share your sexy long legs prettier, thinner
than I ever could.
In classrooms as a man,
you teach in genuine empathy.
Allow autistic children to climb
beyond boundaries.
On stage as a woman,
spread love in performance
from children’s theatre to
Long Island’s first Drag Queen show.
No one is left out by closeted minds
when they meet you.
Gay isn’t just a happy feeling,
it’s spread like joy.
You are loved in both your personas.
Stay homophile and smile.
Never surprised to see you,
not straight but sold out
in Drag Bingos or Brunches.
Not a queer hatred thought felt
finding you on the front cover of Newsday,
headlining a Pride parade.
I know you inside and outside your high heels.
Ivy Stalls, you are golden so shine.
Keep filling this world with Peace, Love, and Rainbows.
Prompt 2: Coffee and Change
The only sound I listen to
Is the clank and the
clatter
of the L as it lumbers
above the gray, steaming
street
There’s nothing to see through
the window that weeps
tears
of condensation as I
drink the hot sludge they call
coffee
and wait for the world to
be worth my while
Nothing
happens so I drop a five on
the table for the faded
Beauty
Hustling tables and I
tell her she should keep the
Change.