Kiss

"Let words do what lips do, they kiss",

They cry

Tears and crystals

Snowflakes and fears

Words of salt, tasty

Cured

Jerked piece of meat

Words of sips

Exploding in flavors

Alas in Insipidity

Spit on paper

Words of encounters

Distilling drips of honey

Inebriating

Burning

And the master echoes within

“Let words do what lips do,

They kiss”

Eve plucks the apple

Hypnotized by the snake’s hiss

Bloody

Red on red

The apple kisses the lips

To  George Wallace, the poet, whom inspired this poem with the first line he adapted from Shakeaspere

Regina's Chant

And so you are back

Missing king

playing on black

as I avoid you in white

White noise

Then music starts

eyes open wide

to let the light shine

the dance on the board

stop hiding behind your pawns

words

why them?

Let me be the silent

resilient

impassible queen

Let me keep my secrets

don't climb the vines

of ancient rooks, crook

The mitre is supposed to be

on the holy man's head

But the cross is on yours

to care, to carry...

We can't win this

Yet we can't run

the board is one

and time

not endless

Let's incrust this pieces

On the calendar

Align stars

bury in the sand

the Sun Stone

and contrasting

black and white

let the red clay zodiac

write a new day

on the almanac

Let's make the ink

of this tint wine

and work together

on a masterpiece:

ars gratia artis

Never call me mine

You might be the king

But I am my own queen

The only

If you ever see me bathing on the roof,

close your window

and I shall turn off

the moonlight