Long Coquettish Poems
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Before the Day Turned Into Night 1-21-24
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Before the Day Turned Into Nigh - ITQ
Through veils of rose twilight dances
Wink, a smile, coquettish glances
Flirts with the stars, the moon, perchance,
Promise for dusky romances.
She wears sheer hues that silhouette
The shapely shades of dusk’s coquette
Amber tease in fuchsia ballettes
Light and shadows in dusk’s duets.
This playful minx just can’t behave
Teases nightfall with siren’s faves,
Golden tones split the airy waves,
Night encouraged to misbehave.
Before the day turned into night
A coral kiss turns off the lights.
You are the my indisputable favorite
You are the sweet song in my ears
You are the melody of my coquettish woodwind
You are my sweetheart for eternity
Indeed, even the breeze that kisses you
has a sentimental state of mind
O' myna benefiting from rings in the springtime
I'm attached to you
You are delightful as the late spring blooms
You are sweet as the ready mangoes
You are the raindrop in a downpour soaked scene
Won't you accompany me,
Let's sustain and think back
Upon our adoration
You are my favourite
You are the sweet tune in my ears
You are the tune of my coquettish woodwind
You are my darling forever....
Kim (one of my BFF) brightened with inspiration, “Oooo! Send him a sexy pic!”
“I’m NOT going to sext a guy out of the BLUE,” I grumbled, indignantly.
Kim turned to her phone, “No, No, of COURSE not.” She said as she texted.
“Come on” she said, as she pulled me off my chair and out the door. We raced over, on foot, to my friend Bili’s house (two houses away). We entered without knocking (as usual) and ran upstairs.
Bili lay on her stomach on her unmade bed, fiddling with her phone, ankles up and crossed but she twisted up to attention when we came in.
“What should we do first?” She said, as if there were a million things to do.
They set upon me and had my regular clothes off in a heartbeat. Like all makeovers, this had a prelapsarian purity - the ritual stripping down to blankness before rebuilding.
They quickly went through about half of Bili’s closet - selecting just the right combination of trashy and classy clothes designed to seduce.
They finally settled on a black slip under an ivory peignoir, stockings with garters and black strappy heels.
Kim twisted my hair up into a loose “Gibson Girl.”
“Hold still,” Bili said, as she grasped my chin and expertly blended red, gold and black glittery eyeshadows followed by lip liner and gloss. “This is just a quickie job,” she reminded me.
I stared at this strange version of myself in the vanity.
Kim frowned and looking around, she spread a pink scarf over the desk light to give the room a rosy glow. They went into studio mode - posing me in various ways from coquettish to bored lounging - suggesting expressions and taking endless pictures with my phone.
Finally, they were satisfied and handed me my phone.
“Shall we go through them?” Bili asked
“Naah,” I said, “I’ll go through ‘em and pick one - or two.”
Later, at home, I looked through them - I looked SO different - and I had to admit - sexy even. But was that ME? I cringed, what if my mom saw these trashy, Kardashian-like photos somewhere?
I never sent them. I thought I’d have to explain it to my girls.
“HA!” They laughed, “We KNEW you’d never use ‘em” Bili said, as Kim shook her head “Nope.”
“It was fun though!” We all agreed.
.
.
.
NOTE: This is a pre-pandemic story from August 2019. I was 15 - the idea wasn’t to seduce this guy, it was to get his interest so he would ask me out . =]
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You enter confines of
love’s hideaway in
silence, yet oral
articulation overflows;
every need, want, and desire
vocalized within velveteen caresses.
Moistened murmurs echo
from secret grotto where
coquettish companions cavort.
Depth of soul kiss inspires
profound passion, surging
swells of sensuality, and
savory satisfaction.
Eagerness escalates and
enjoyment abounds in this
enticingly exquisite
entanglement.
All is confessed;
lips, mouth and tongue
communicate ever so skillfully.
There are times when words
are just better left
unspoken.
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I sat watching from across the bar,
As she toyed with her entourage of suitors;
Feeding each man small pieces of hope -
Her coquettish smile couldn’t be much cuter.
Her drinks were free; her blouse cut low;
She laughed at all of their jokes.
But, she always made sure, she was never alone
With just a single one of those blokes.
Some lesser men gave up the fight
When the stronger ones started moving in;
I caught her eye through the haze and the crowd
And sent her a tonic and gin.
When the waiter handed her the glass,
And mentioned it was being sent by me,
The huddle of studs all turned their heads,
At this pomposity they just had to see.
They snickered and sneered at the old man on the stool
Who was certainly no competition at all
They looked at each other, rolled their eyes
And simultaneously let out a hefty guffaw
She excused herself to go powder up
Leaving the hopeful combatants all alone
Then walked up to me, kissed me on the lips
And said, “Come on Dear, it’s time to go home.”
She slipped back on the ring I bought her years ago,
Feeling her vanity had been restored quite enough;
I paid my bar tab, looked back at the dropping jaws
And said, “Sorry boys, you don’t have the right stuff.”
"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering" (Nicole Krauss)...
and so went ventured forth to do so,
stringing the answers together like a song,
and all of them were right, but all of them were wrong:
a bell, a wind-chime in a soft-summer breeze
sparkling wine, a coquettish tease
rainbow ends and butterfly wings
eternal blossoms and early Springs
a mirthful cornucopia of fruit
ribbons and bows, adorable, and cute
an inducement to bravely speak
a dance, grown closer, cheek to cheek
a siren song on a lonely sea disguised as a question,
but really a keya challenge or a call to action
a promise of elusive satisfaction
an opportunity to grow,
the seeds of love at last to sow
a flash of lightning and a thunderbolt
followed by backflips and a somersaults
a two-way mirror of himself
a kaleidoscopic image of a misfit elf
an invitation to the blues
a year and a half in Tom Waits shoes
a sojourn of unending length
a demonstration of enduring strength
inspired confidence that what is right
will part dark clouds when no hope's in sight
a reminder of an earlier day
a twinkling star, a moon's silver ray.
a lifelong quest, a sacred duty
a mysterious, arresting beauty.
In the end, he kissed her memory goodbye
as his immortal spirit floated in the sky.
He pondered, when he got to Heaven's door,
a question he had no answer for.
Dayspring Moon
Mischievous moon sneaks into dawning’s sight
Coquettish smile winks at dawn in delight
Playful like a child who fights sleep at night
Morning games, hide and seek...dayspring flush, rising pique -
Daylight with argent streaks...light in soft moon mystique -
Elfish clown blows a kiss as day begins
Impish moon flirts at dawn with saucy grins
Moonstruck sunrise, before the sun cuts in,
Tow-head minx riding high...morningtide's azure sighs -
Full moon in the day sky...gibbous dance gone awry -
Pearly pixie wears a smile, laughing light,
A sly smirk on her alabaster cheeks,
Yawns then slinks away as the deep blue spins,
Lunar prank reflects her spry sun ally.
Midnight envelops the pillow
where her head rests sleeping
as each shaft of moon light glows,
umber and ocher traces,
through the satin nimbus of her hair,
gently caressing her soft cheek.
The billowing gossamer of sheer veils,
like phantasms, take flight
with morning's sigh
through the open window,
while the shadows dance playfully
through each beam of light.
She stirs but a moment when the cool murmur
tickles the lashes that smile across her eyes.
Smiles of the wonder of life once lived
of friends once known,
now, mere dreams that taunt her
in early morning slumber.
She, once the consummate ingénue,
naive of life's sorrows,
innocent of the pain of affairs
lived and loved and broken,
lies like a babe in mother's arms
cradled in the bosom of her warm haven.
As the sun scales the scaffold of early dawn,
its light scalds her eyes
and harsh reality again awakens her.
With painted face and perfumed breast
she is no longer the innocent,
for life demands tribute and she pays her debt.
Act II, playing the part comes easy now,
the soubrette, her new role,
her transformation complete in the light of morning.
Hiding her doubts behind coquettish trifles
She makes it through another day,
only to await her midnight dreams.
11/18/2018
Even with
The cross
Around his neck
And the childhood
Anxiety over
An imaginary man’s judgement
His thoughts
Were more iniquitous
Than my own
He would delineate the way
Shower droplets
Languidly glide down my skin
Leaving behind
A flushed path
On my pallid complexion
That no longer
Wears the perpetual damage
Of past men’s temper
Because his eyes
Can’t fervor over
A dilapidated temple
But he’ll keep
The maze of scratches
My nails leave
As it clutches
The outline
Of my skeleton
While whispering
His name
In the inflection
That causes
claustrophobia in the breath
as it stumbles in his throat
He would sketch
Those scenes for me
In my head
Except he enjoyed
Exorcising
Every trait of me
Cutting off
Every strand
Of bleached hair
Make my hands
Sit in gray water
Until all the black nail polish wore off
Ripping the piercings
From my ears
To fill the holes
With the chants of hymns
Fading out the dense screams
I was raised by
But it all
Fell flat
More than how he felt about the earth
It made me wish those words
From the mangled pages
In that book
Were hand fed
To me
By him
With coquettish eyes
Leaning into
Every idiom
Until
My stomach
Feels abhorrent
From the nocuous ink
As it snuck onto
My tongue
Just so I can say
I spit his deception
Back into his mouth
And even then
His thoughts would still be
More iniquitous than my own
In The Middle Of The Night, When The Butterflies Dance To The Moon's Song
"At the mid of midnight butterflies upward dance, to reach for the moon for spiritual longevity." quote by poet
Lead-in to and conceal an amorous scene
In the middle of the night with the heaven’s light.
Wherein lies the encouraging butterflies
Into dance to the moon’s song in full sight.
Breeze pushing through full of laughter,
Tease in playful serenade shuttering leaves.
Seize in the shadows of flirtatious romance;
Tweeze their velvet wings, a coquettish grace receives.
11/19/2023