the buddha of questions

you are a god,

the buddha of questions

whose answers are scrambled
in your mind.

but i want you to know that

who and how are the clay of why,
where and what are beyond your reach,
and in your lap you cradle when.

when do i?

a stranger,
your only friend,
your right hand standing on the left,
and all that remains of you.

who am i?

anxious, perching on a branch,
bending it,
riding the nauseous down- and up-
swing, off guard,
taking wing and
moving on to the next branch–
bending it.

and how am i?

because the answers do not
fit the questions,
because my heart beats way too fast at the sight of you,
because red is everything inside me–
refried, hot to the touch,
spicy, and staining.

why am i?

in your gut,
from your diaphragm,
on your breath as dense
as love can be,
exhaled in your sigh
(allusion in sound).

where am i?

gold and silver plated,
iron, steel,
helmeted, lanced.

what am i?

when all the stars are blank
and not for the giving,
and the fear of the dark and cold
is choked and airless,
when the final gasp is soundless,
when only the moment matters.

(From Like. Love. Hate. Available at Amazon.com and Smashwords)

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2013

Take 26

Your words so clear,
dear heart, dear heart,
your tongue in my ear,
are a sweet deluge
that floods my dreams,
thoughts soaked so completely.
I float in your clarity,
moved by your thunder.
I stand before the lightning strike,
fire red as sunset.
There is nothing to do about that.

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2013

Peace Train

I’ve been smiling lately
Dreaming about the world as one
And I believe it could be
Something good’s bound to come
~ Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam)

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011

NaPoWriMo Poem #7

what “they” say

Indifference
–they say–
is Love’s opposite

As Such

your smell
causes
my third eye
to Roll Back
in my head
(it watches the daydream)
(of your death at my hands)

The sight of you
fills my Jugular
near to bursting

your absence
Endlessly
reminds me (endlessly)
that i don’t miss you

so would you say
that i am in love

*****************************

For this poem I used the NaPoWriMo prompt:

Write a poem that comments upon or is inspired by a song or other work of art in a different medium. [They suggested three pop songs but I had another song in mind, Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do With It.” Then, I started channeling my inner Emily Dickinson. After that, things got out of control.]

(This poem and all poems posted during April 2011 are included in the free ebook, “30 Poems, 30 Days: Inside a Poet’s Mind.”)

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011

My Valentine 2011

This post is part of the Valentine’s Love Letter Fest hosted by blogging friend Pamela Rossow at Pammener’s Blog.

Love is such a tricky topic for me but instead of venting about the real-life drama that is going on with me right now, I’ll just talk about the top 5 love songs of all time! Well, actually, not of all time, but my top 5 of all time–although that also needs a disclaimer. I’m just going to go with my top 5 love songs on my MP3 player at the moment…. These are dedicated to the one I love.

Fragments

He rang the doorbell and waited for her to answer, the sun blinding and the heat erupting his skin like lava. When she opened the door, he knew she was the one.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “Nice to meet you.” Her lips were shiny, moist. As he walked inside, the smell of lemon icing rang from her hair.

Abuse is not L-O-V-E (Guest Post by LaVonya Reeves**)

What is Dating and Domestic Violence?
Dating or domestic violence is not a disagreement; it represents a violation of trust.

Violence against women is the leading cause of injury to women between the ages of 15 and 44. It encompasses a wide range of acts committed by one partner against another in a relationship. These acts can include breaking objects, hurting pets, yelling, driving to endanger, isolating family members from others, and controlling resources like money, vehicles, credit and time. This can occur in a variety of relationships: co-habitual, dating, married, separated, divorced, heterosexual, or gay/lesbian.

Photographer: exfordy

Control is the goal of domestic violence. The abuser develops a cycle of violence which grows in severity and frequency. It is a learned pattern of behavior whose effects, without intervention, become more destructive over time and can become lethal. The progression of violence is:

Alone (a cubist nightmare)

A newspaper to fill, never enough.
“Her death by gun? A hoax; so kill that story
and write another one.” Since Shit for Brains
is on the rag again, and Ted, “the man,”
a legend in his mind, too slow, today–
a day much like the last–I write it myself.

*****

I pour the juice as tea, serving myself
last, the tiny cups holding just enough.
The three small chairs seat Bear and Doll (today
my guests) and me–a little girl. The story

nothing left

there is
nothing left
in words
to say
what i feel
when I am
with

you
the light of day
a jewel in my eye
perpetual motion
electricity and hellfire

Like That Girl

Who is this girl
Walking across the side street
In front of my car
Against the light?
My thoughts,
Fleeting,
Are to mow her down
But by law I must wait
As I am her subject.
I watch in fascination
As she saunters on long legs
Wrapped in skinny light-blue jeans
Hugged lovingly around
The perfect ass,
Proportionate,
Not overwhelming
But juicy enough to cup