Unzipping an overripe banana,
fingers squished into redolent shush,
black skin dripping off the soft stem.
I might have to eat this with a spoon,
a banana is a berry,
I think of this
as I wipe sticky lips,
and taste that time-sweetened wine.
The Priest talked of your tragic passing
I was unzipping your dress, watching it gracefully fall to the floor
You would be sorely missed
The back of your neck was warm and your nipples came alive
We sang a song where angels long
Your fingers caressed inside and the taste was inviting
Your husband spoke of his love and the pain he felt
I was kissing the bow on your panties, gently teasing them down
The final song, abide with me, abide with me
The teasing became unbearable as you pulled my hair, forcing my tongue inside you
The curtain closed for the final time as tears subside
We exploded and you laughed and cried
The leaving pleasantries were awkward, sorry for our loss maybe misconstrued
You got dressed for the final time, leaving a goodbye gift
I shed a tear outside, your gift drying my eyes
The congregation left to drink to times gone by
Some looked right through me
Some just never knew why…
I'm here again
Checking you out
Missing you again
Calling out
I'm here again
Taking you out
Kissing you again
Chilling out
Here we go again
Thinking where to go
Under the sun again
Outshining and ready to go
There we go again
Hanging on tree top lines
Under the clouds again
Unzipping the borderlines
Our world will never end
Up and down the bend
Left and right we hold so tight
For so much love we'll strongly fight
They call it the Sunday Scaries
They call it the Bubble Visualisation Exercise
I felt the polished wood of my table
The softness of my son's hair
My pencil snapped when I started my Gratitude Journal
Turn to the person next to you and tell them about a teacher
As loud as God unzipping his fly
Sat in the back not being able to find the steering wheel
They laughed
They were charmed
The shapes of stories
The shapes of restfulness and well-being
My son is playing piano as I write this
I'm going to stop writing
If this isn't nice, I don't know what is
Neon vodka splashes into plastic cups.
Booze-hounds doze
over imaginary throbbing bikes,
their noses tucked into studded chests.
A thick thighed woman whoops
and cusses for no apparent reason,
adjusts her rocking bar-stool,
squirms while cajoling with a low-cut.
“Give her a long slow screw”,
mumbles a gray bearded angel with a leery wink.
Beside him, edged into oily leather, his wing man
strategizes some hasty unzipping.
Later, hid in the dirty light — he just might
if she waits for him outside by a wall
one leg lifted.
~~~~~~~
FYI
“A long slow comfortable screw against a wall,” is a cocktail:
ice
1 part vodka
1 part sloe gin
1 part Southern Comfort
orange juice, as needed
1 part Galliano.
~~~~~~~~
The successful preacher spoke with a pious tone
very soothing to the ear.
Great days are coming .
when all of mankind shall be peaceable and agreeable
and there shall be no more irredeemable souls.
The church choir stood up and they began to sing like angels and beneath the choir you can hear the rustling of pockets and jingling of change, the snapping and unzipping of handbags, wallets and purses in a very pious tone soothing to the spirit of tithing.
For my skin - hidden blood
Abandons neighbouring feeding forest
Dumping the nearby, friendly gutter
After a heavy washing flood
Hijacks long sleep and short rest
Forcing us to malevolent curses utter
With all manner of men getting into trouble
Who attack it with strength, a bubble;
Not infrequently phoning their nurses
And for insecticides, unzipping their purses.
Spared not also by The Saints,
Though its killing their images taints;
On it hipping a hurt's abuse,
All the time emptying the refuse.
Simply the handiwork of pin - sharp proboscis
Justifying uttered obscenities or Holy Moses!
In the late nights
A scheduling of sure flights,
With its sleep - verifying song
That does us a great wrong.
You look at a sky full of stars
akin to trillions of diamonds.
And watch a gold doubloon moon climb
high amidst a starlit background.
Not a sound, just you, and your thoughts;
as worldly distractions vanish.
And scrutinizing God's handiwork:
your soul finds its humanity.
A sizzling shooting star trails light,
unzipping a curtain of sparks.
And a bat starts scanning for moths,
flapping skin-soft wings at nightfall.
Shifting shadows slowly conjoin,
crushing charcoal gray into black.
And tattooing twilight phantoms:
Dusk, inks day, in colors of Night.
THE BROKENNESS OF CHRIST
evil salivates
at the brokenness of Christ
unzipping of flesh
a lowly mock crown
the nettles dig in and sting
blood like tears forgive
holes punched into palms
surreal Roman nails impale
perpetuity
worn down and lifeless
his body lowered to ground
the finality
a serpentine laugh
the hiss of betrayal’s kiss
a stone seals the deal
angels gathering
lighting up the darkest night
in awe of the King
a massive stone throw
the dawning of a new age
rekindling heartstrings
O how the dawn sings
colors of exultation
expressions of love
9/10/2018
Not us but Him! It’s what Jesus did.
Merry Christmas Soup
We sit together raising our glasses
Of eggnog, glühwein, or sorrel punch and passing on
Blessings of goodwill, throughout the flowing seasons
Unzipping our thoughts through poems and songs
Expressing the emotions of every heart in friendships
Accentuating their beauty through metaphors
Rhythmical we toast for never ending inspiration
Merry Christmas
12/25/2016
Hi there angel of gold
Part of my plan is raising you bold
Solving the statistics that bridges your crazy and your ladylike code
Till I can harvest your deepest emotions with a minimum devotion
HIT OR MISS
when the razor-smiled
chaos starts
unzipping
swirling swaying
anarchy
select your
hit or miss
learn to disguise hurt
laugh at decay
shadowing
heart beats retreating
diversity
pumping
hit or miss
six million bones
are learning to
beam
strange festivity
multiplying
lightning
hit or miss
© Kim van Breda
At last, metro’s traffic comes to a halt…
the quarter moon peeps between hilltops
as a lingering gladness warms my flesh—
half steady, half shimmering
when early evening’s air
prances like fine gauze, shedding
time’s need for revelry. Unzipping
my mind to surrender to the upbeat
tempo of glittering dusk naked in
earthy bliss, I feel all the pinpoints
of the sky tingling on my limbs
numbed by rind’s toil. Resting a bit
to groove with merriment
borne from the wake of laughing stars,
my limbs pirouette with the rhythm of wildflowers
fondling the light, embracing the
pleasure of now ...and to dance, dance joy!
Trashed #2 Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
By nette onclaud
9/12/2015
Our engagement was our first date.
He knew I was shy and would turn away.
Therefore, he told me not to be afraid.
He knew I liked his physique.
We would continue this relationship as soul mates.
Longevity this became.
So I knew he would make me his woman.
His smile ignited my spirit.
I desired to be fulfilled.
His hand touched my waist.
He slowly kissed my face.
Then the passion begins to explode.
My spaghetti straps dropped from my shoulders.
His mouth caressed my breast.
My head begins to spin from him sensually.
I had to get control of me.
He is unzipping me fast.
This intimacy is where it is at.
We been together long enough to have sex.
Erotic I become.
Ascetic is unbecoming.
This man is now a partner.
My wanton behavior is not to be control.
However, he is dynamism and love.
The morning sun had not yet cut the forest
into shadow and light, and the gray mist of the coming
day fell from the autumn sky.
The creeping fog added its damp prospective
to the Trees. Their visually poetic patterns
were etched in red and yellowed leaves
on muted branches of greys and browns.
Ever Greens dotted the hillside as if
Punctuating the view with quotation marks,
periods, and commas, allowing nature to
write her commentaries in a breath taking language of color.
My mind captured by the fallen leaves, cascaded down the mosaic
of a hillside to the forest floor. It was released by
a small flock of birds that landed in the trees near the lake.
Their fluttering black wings slapped and echoed.
Chaotic chirping bounced with them in a morning mêlée
of song and dance. The occasional red tipped wing
flickered through the hopscotched patterns
of sight and sounds.
Welcomed by the stark morning, and in spite
of the contrast the frolicking cacophony
brought to the once quiet serene surroundings,
My sleeping bag half unzipped I stopped…
the since of oneness made me sigh in completeness.
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