In the dark of the night, my loneliness
Seeps through the window,
Dissolving into the moonlight.
Upon the table lies
A single chili pepper, stained in green,
And half a clove of garlic, exposing its bare flesh.
The pepper burns my whole self
As if setting the tip of my tongue ablaze,
While the garlic—even fiercer than the pepper—
Makes me briefly forget who I am.
I sit before them in silence,
Facing my own reflection
Deep within the pepper and the garlic.
Solitude is a place
Where different existences on a single plate
Depart, as though filling the vacant spaces between them.
Yet,
When the two merge into one,
My solitude proves
That I am still alive.
Avon’s lipsticks had many names
Cherry magic, strawberry wonder, chili pepper
This was the sixties
the goal was to have red lips
the more brazen the better
How Is It
That A Yummy
Chili-Pepper Spice
Can Crescendo
An Outstanding Dish?
-Gray Squirrel
10-02-2025
I have become a fat chair potato
It would be nice to be a tomato
Maybe a chili pepper hot
Or habanero wrought
Anything else to end this trapped woe
Written: 03/17/2023
Habanero pepper has 100,000 to 350,000 Scoville Heat Units.
These spicy banana peppers are hotter than hot.
My annoyed esophagus yells “Not! Not! Not! Not! Not! Not!”
They dance around and down my gullet from the crockpot.
Temperature there is turned up to about a thousand watt.
Some weird stranger asks me, “Is this what you brought?”
Jalapeno and banana peppers tangled in a dancing knot?
My overeager tummy is yelping and screaming a lot.
Acid reflex at my age is almost nightly fought!
vixen ...
it defies sense
that such fetid phrase
and coarse, careless curses
can drift so dourly from plump little bows
perfect, pouty, chili pepper lips
dripping with dangled prepositions
and dangerous propositions
so, love ... what wish?
what shiny champagne-notioned bauble
will twist that naughty purse
into a sweet, sassy ...
yes?
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Strand Pick 2, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Sweet
Princess
sensual sass
oh virtue sublime
two perfect little bows
plump raspberries, fresh
tapered, moist lusciousness
wispy chili pepper spiciness pure
plucked in cool rain for love's intent
dew-dappled fruits of desire, inexorable.
Oh, like spinning the moon in your hands
there's naught but Luna's glinting your eyes
that can hold measure to those nectarous berries.
I shall consider it my honored duty, to so determine
to let the soft, deep adoration of my press to your own
be the only concern for which I shall offer my deft attention.
Oh, do not gods themselves aspire to such commitments, thus?
Your divine mouth is all I'll need for my own deliberate attainments ...
loose the moon from your tender grasp, for this moment is ours alone
its soft blue beams, the rill of romance that we swim together ... to drown.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Picture Prompt" Poetry Contest, Brenda Chiri, Judge & Sponsor.
to swim the abyss ...
dark depths of a sparkling gaze -
your coy, captive eyes
to touch electric ...
my fingers find warm welcome -
your dermal landscape
to kiss hot and sweet ...
tender chili pepper lips -
your fiery flavor
to savor and sip ...
the places hushed and hidden -
your nectar, luscious
to imbibe you whole ...
honeyed, sour, tangy, and tart -
your wine ... drunkens me.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Best Haiku Ever Old Or New" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 10th Place ~ in the "Multiple Haikus" Poetry Contest, Jamie Pan, Judge & Sponsor.
From the mists ...
Why are you here?
Half a world away, so not your volition
I did not lay down with thoughts of you
I did not lie here, eyes closed, waiting on your ghosts
Bent on nothing but you in the diaphanous moments before sleep
You were not even a wisp of meanderings
Yet, here you are, haunting me again
Strings of my heart wound tight
You, eager to pluck them without pity or prudence
Sapphire gaze, chiclet smile, chili pepper lips, linen skin
And the connection, unspoken, that made the ordinary so ... immaculate
Every hope, plan and capricious impulse, you commanded
And you do again, here, though you waste not a musing on me
It is not my wish to wake again to the reality of loss
Eyes crimped with phantom tears
Soul yearning, aching ... but I will
The foolish pawn for a memory
Hopeless and helpless
Decidedly damned ...
In dreams.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand No 660 Any Theme Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
A sly chef name of Dan, for a dare,
Made a hot chili pepper éclair.
When his 'ex' took a bite,
Dan declared with delight:
‘There you go again, blowing hot air!’
04/01/19
THE BUHARI BROUHAHA
We were agog
excited, impatient, and in suspense
unknowingly ushering in the "gog of magog"
Oh! The mastery of his pretence!
Enmass, We obliged our franchise
Gulibly buying into their merchandise
here's my neighbours' drift, wise?
twill surfice me to do likewise
Where would the pendulum swing?
Would our "change' win?
We were on tenterhooks,
Fell for the tender looks.
on the edge of our seats,
"See as our Heart dey beat"
keen, anxious, and longing
We ignited the bombing.
The fanfare, the propaganda, the paparazzi
Ushering in the kamikazi
Much ado about "nothing"
The type that be hurting.
Buhari seems like a big deal,
Coming with a huge fill
but twas a bunch of baloney,
The chili pepper effect on peperoni
RISE AND FALL
his eyes undress hers
slowly
timid lashes
lower
her face a cherub-red
chili pepper
a skinny strap slides
off her shoulder
revealing snow-white skin
wedding vows allow this night
flickers candlelight
of passion
this tempest shall not pass
this way again
with scoring waves
lapping over silken sheets
the roar of sweat & whispers
the peak
of everest intense
the depth of falling
into bliss
11/12/2017
Spirit child
Spirit wild
Motor mouth sprinting for miles
Been here rhyme spitting for awhile
Practicing my free form graffiti style
Scorching chili pepper temperatures
Never white people mild
I'm constantly told to wipe my stoner smile
Multitasking talents
Managing mental fragments
Juggling social judgments
I feel awkward in this skin
I'm working out to make
Some slender adjustments
Slap her on the rump
Because that behind is delicious
Delectable dish of nakedness
The hand print is then smacked with a kiss
I met a pretty queen
whose eyes sparkled like
the diamonds of Sierra Leone
whose lips as red and hot
as chili pepper
whose cheeks charmingly dark
as the night skies
whose hair as smooth as
the silks of the merchants of Persia
and her palms as soft and versatile
as the clays of the garden of eden
she bears breast, ripen breast
meant for only kings
her shape like the
curves of the mighty Limpopo
her legs like the cedars of Lebanon
the sound of her footsteps like
the rhythms of the xylophone
But though i am a professional artist
no amount of paint and textures can portray
a full portrait of the queen of my dreams.
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