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Catherine Reinke Poem
PINK TENNIS SHOES
I mother always pride galore
until the words from daughter abhor.
Her gentle heart and loving embrace
smashing to pieces. She fell from grace.
Her untied tenny shoe, wrapped and tight
around her bike, could free no might.
Mommy checking faithful each half hour
found her daughter helpless, no power.
Down the hill mommy went
no time was wasting nor was spent.
The wind passed threw my long hair locks
when shock took over from what I got.
Not what I thought from bike I bought
but cruelest words, my life distraught.
From those lips kissed each night to bed
not once, nor twice, but thrice to head.
“Hurry up old lady” from my daughter
how my heart bleed of tears and water.
For no words crueler ever sere spoke.
My shame, the horror on face neighborhood folk.
My tail between my legs indeed
got there, put there by my third bore seed.
And mothers day and birthday too
three days from now turn 45, BOO-HOO!
Never knew my aging beauty fade
would be this hard for the lies I’ve made.
Lies I’ve told to self each day
that children’s love fulfillment may.
So on this very special mothers day
this “old lady” family f--- off say.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
Chocolate Moose Girl
A Sunday brunch one day went me
when she I saw, at table three.
From my mind to forget, never nor maybe.
For on this radiant sunny Sunday afternoon
in the Botanical Garden, my favorite room
sat at a table, grandmother and she.
The walls lined in fragrant ferns of green
baroque blossom ladies in gilded frames seen.
Her simple beauty profile delicate cherry flourish tree.
Now this vision alone, fulfilled my eyesight hunger greatly
when added she did this simple act make.
To her pink full lips a taste took she.
When delicate and slow she lifted
her chocolate moose to mouth she gifted.
From the moose chocolate, I know previous take.
The finest ever no chief could bake,
Satisfying, soft coolness, still lingering in me.
A sublime sexual treat,
then look I did, toward her feet.
When out rolled her toes
from brocade slippers of gold, I see.
Her barefoot toes ached
to reveal her pleasure
with each spoon to lip,
delight, same measure.
My mind to forget, never nor maybe.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
Undiscovered ancient knowledge
Of the origins
Of all that breaths
Of starlit travelers
Who made their home in the Sea.
Sharks and whales
Who never sleep
Protecting them from all that’s unsafe.
Thus this wisdom
Buried deep below forever
Will be shared with others those
Who are chose to know.
Ocean violet
Sunny life
Waves crash through
The sunlight warp of time
Eternal mother
Water- womb of life
Radiant azure smile heal
Breath in my salty haze.
But, deep beneath my ocean dark
Lies treachery beyond your scope
For hidden
In passages and secret tombs
Waters of the ocean
The water of my mind
Flying high in dreamland
There’s nothing left to find
Ocean blue
Ocean green
All and all a happy scene
Beach ball buddies
Sunscreen tans
Sparkling sand castles
It’s everybody’s dream!
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
Mirror
In this mirror asks
Who stands before thee?
Recognize not her
She could not be me
Once before this reflection clear
Stood a maiden young and dear.
Hair flowing, glowing skin smooth and soft
Breasts full and supple
Lips tender hot.
Desirous in beauty to all eyes behold.
Men sought no other,
Greatest price foretold.
Yet in this youth of beauty body
Bold and tight ,
Desire fulfillment it’s pleasure release
Wasted youth did fright.
Threw my passing journey
This body changed indeed,
Pleasure inhabitation all this
Has been freed.
My body aged it’s true I see
A price to pay for this change in me.
Warm ,damp- open
Receptive hunger may
No ecstasy comparable.
A thirst that grows each day.
Places in my youth not dared
Are joyous enrapture
That we, my lover share.
For in my bed
My body is fed
And age forgotten
The fear and dread.
For fly outside to cosmic sparks
Bram rays bursting from head to toe
Moment longer
Please no more
Too much pleasure
Higher I can’t go.
Yet another evening in your arms
Your mastery skill
You play my fill
My aging beauty forgets it’s woes
Gives way to gods cruel will
So again here I stand in this
Mirror day
Recognize not this face
Who’s lines betray my grace.
Gentle , soft passion
Ferrous hard sexuality.
A thirsty hungry women
Wanting love fulfillment,
Hunger body explained.
Yet to my few and far suitors
See not this passion stored
Wanting not excitement
In the arms of freedoms door
Choose instead another
Whose youth valued
Great and move
Time and life no mark behind
On faces glowing pretty
Native to pleasure explosions
Lie curious closed secure doors
Can hot hope to please
The man whom I in
Age, not me and, I abhor
Once in my arms
I believe no other find
Can he be
For I am aging beauty
Comparison
Never her youth to me.
For in the bedroom judgment
Whore bonds of love are forged
And waged
No faces glowing pretty
Can trap a man
As to this cage.
Where he will came each
Evening, morning, noon or night
Begging, longing, pleading
Cage, love me, please me
Never out of sight
So from my answer to my mirror
The reflection on this day is clear
Who stands before thee?
She, is me
An aging beauty proud and free.
Distance separate
Heals my wounds
Slowly, gently
Yet yearning swirls
And bathes my pain
Wanting, needing to see you again…..
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
The family
Of three
Such divinity
So clear to
See
The happiness
In three
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
You think your smart
but I’m smarter too.
You think your bright
but vision lacks within your sight.
Why say these things do I?
Because brighter smarter, I can sigh.
Dare not indignant ask me why.
Answer quick, I know
the means times square and pie
declare you to I.
These numbers smart do not make you.
Stunned and shocked to reevaluate and ask I am who?
If not a number calculator my self I find is not true.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
A Seagull Named Steve
This seagull flew by and sat a bit
Ordered tequila from a wine glass sipped.
Dressed in bright yellow
Such a delight social fellow,
Conversation made easy
In beach sands breezy.
A Jonathon Living indeed
Spreading his light giving sea diving seeds.
At first to me, a dive he did make
Up to the sun in restoration with me he did take.
In buttons of coco bean seed
I find my self hand in hand with he I need.
Washed away my blues
Into happiness hues
Of bright orange and yellow.
Across the ocean in search of loves notion
Conjured a passion sea foam potion
Potentate hurricane insane commotion.
But swirl in heavens bright blue skies
In the night full moon we did fly.
For a need for both fulfillment deep
Never to be forgotten not even in sleep.
As quickly he came this seagull named Steve
From no love forever to maybe make me believe.
But try I did truly beg him not to leave
My Jonathan Living seagull named Steve.
Yet he is gone to other seagull endeavors
Living his life among castles of pleasures.
Me
He did not leave
For in my heart
He created I think
A new start.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
P A L M T R E E D E L I G H T
Written by Catherine Reinke
In your arms, I lay behold ,
gentle winds and sea salt kiss.
Shade full arms from hot sun bold
coco milk sweet, lovers dish.
My naked skin, sun loves to play
lying under this palm tree day.
Listen to your arms wind sound.
No gentler tender song I’ve found.
Tension, grief, sorrow and more,
all left behind seaside’s door.
For here life’s origins, beget and made
ancient past lives, memories to fade.
But here in Tulum, my friendship sea
I find myself, in gentle palm tree.
And so from youth my memory serves
a poem that retold again deserves.
“that only God can make a tree and
…poems are written by fools like me”
Truly then and true today
That Godly art create tree play.
For made he did a vast array
charming comfort of trees I say.
Strong steadfast oaks.
Wispy willows.
Lilac purples for ones pillow.
Cedar pillars ancient.
Rain forest lush,
only the palm tree
makes me bush.
Round coco breasts filled with milk.
Erect pillar penetrating fronds of silk.
So, in your arms I want to be
naked, contentment, happy and free.
And so end my tree poetic attempt
of my love affair palm tree spent.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
Do you always get burned
When you play with fire?
Must you always
Extinguish your desire?
Not to open Pandora’s box
Yet gave the key for me unlock.
You cleaver fox
This box unlock.
For in its contents
I did find
Such confusion for my mind
For out come poring
Contradict emotion flowing
Knew you well
Resist could not
Not to open Pandora’s box
Gave the key
Now take it back
This temptation
I shall free
Free I shall
You from me
For swear I do
And oath forged forth
This desire
extinguish not ignite.
With water held
High in hand
Pouring onto what
Burns within.
Burns under my skin
Revealed too thin
Weakness overcome
Deliverance from.
From this cleaver fox
Custodian Pandora’s box.
Held within content
dreams of nights embrace
Filled and emptiness
Dreams of loves illusion
Lost in passion confusion
Dreams to reality
Never to make
For both to know
To much at stake.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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Catherine Reinke Poem
Female Newscaster
Written by: Catherine Reinke
Pretty faces
Boob jobs too
silicone lips
and higher shoes.
Porno stars,
contrived
cue cards.
Network news
has gone to fair!
Lying teeth.
Blinding white.
What today
is our plight?
Cleavage low.
Ratings soar.
Cannot let
audience boar.
Murder and terror .
On she reads,
security level
red, orange, yellow.
Day by day
freedoms stolen.
Freedoms lost.
Freedom now
long forgot.
Centerfold women
On CNN,
foxy news and MSN.
Walter contrite
he’s not more.
replaced femme fatal
through news doors.
Buxom beauties.
Youthful cuties.
News once read
by somber heads
now is told
by sexy dames in red.
Seems my husband
to his bed
take those newscasters
he has said
to his bed?
Yes, he said
tight hot bodies
dressed in red.
Give me news
and give it often.
Put Ted Kopple
in his coffin.
Easy chair
a couple of beers
all my news
I want to hear
from pretty faces
boob jobs too
silicone lips
and higher shoes.
Copyright © Catherine Reinke | Year Posted 2009
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