Raindrops- sweat of sky
Black thick cloud- sky's prickly-heat
Life of drought summer
-30/12/2020 Chattogram
HE STRUGGLE
Heated walls Suffocating air
Warm bed sheets
Soft, steaming pillow.
Prickly heat, Trickling sweat
Crossed midnight, exhausted body
The cock’s crow disturbed my rest
Need to rush to the field ,
For the day’s bread.
That’s the life of a poor man.
The rich have a life
Just contrary to it. How do you feel?
They hold one, a pot-belly.
Beer and whisky
Fatty special for a bulky body
Persecute the vehicle,
They often travel
Unlimited consumption
Air-conditioned bed rooms
Soft beds with fitting companions
Rich and poor, you need
Only six feet of soil.
What do you say?
Rays of sunlight caress our naked skin
ever so softly, through the leaves of trees.
And feelings of ecstasy stir within;
as gentle breezes titillate and tease.
And immodesty kicks back the covers;
exposing a tangle of arms and feet.
And a warm sensation cocoons lovers;
in a sweaty blanket of prickly heat.
Passion's pulse sets the rhythm for two heartbeats
that merge into one, then begin to race.
And with bated breath, like fevered athletes
they acquiesce; to love's tender embrace.
And melt into a heaving state of bliss;
while punctuating feelings with a kiss.
I went out to trick or treat
wearing fake bloodstained hands and feet
Soon I began to get prickly heat
So I jettisoned them in the street
The finder went as white as a sheet
Then dropped dead with no heartbeat
Now I’m feeling like dead meat
How could I be so indiscreet!
Boo Monorhyme Contest
Sponsored by Alexis Y
09-10-17
The gifted house and the ghost of his Grandmother trapped him. Her presence clung with the leftover nicotine to the walls of every room. A childless marriage and a rancid divorce left its bile in the scum atop the kitchen counters—rust-rings on the bathroom’s porcelain. The horse chestnut tree outside the door stood as an overt warning, pelting anyone trying to enter. As his lover, I disregarded it.
wisteria
uproots the moss-laced lawn:
a pet’s gravestone
With steel wool and a strong arm, I whitewashed the house. Grandmother’s spirit smiled in the spring when new bulbs rose. But, the antique cannon in the front hall still aimed at the door. The man was too used to his darkness. Love was not enough.
trespassers
are shot on sight:
empties on the stoop
Published by KYSO Flash 2015
the prickly heat waves its hellish hands
greeting me in a celestial dance
the sky is clear and as blue
its as if the whole world is new
it bats it's sensual lashes like
feathers in the hot hot wind
singing chants of passion;
again and again
the heat's eyes are knowing;
both full and wise
ne'er have i seen such so round;
blue as crystal, green as emerald,
they sparkle brighter than stars
when filled tears,
they turn toward the ground.
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