Relationships – Lady on a Wire

Kissing Strangers is Now Live!

Kissing Strangers is a one of a kind poetry collection because it is not my normal genre nor to I plan on writing one like it ever again. It all started about 5 years ago when someone commented that the don’t particularly like my dark poetry and that I should write something a little less dismal. So what do I do? I hear a challenge and told myself that I am going to write a book of love poems (puke).

It took 5 whole years, working on it in between other projects. It gave me nightmares that I wouldn’t be able to finish it because it seemed so forced and not authentic. BUT, when I am challenged, I will get it done and I will over exceed my expectations. I am happy to report that it is finally complete and I do have to say, I’m really excited about how it turned out. I’m also excited it’s over and I can go back to my stormy, punch throat writing. Click image below to find it on Amazon.com.

*If you purchase Kissing Strangers, please consider writing a review. It only have to be a few sentences. It helps to support the author (me) and gets the work out about the book.

Your Heart

your heart

a conductor of life

but also of death

clinging to strings

of love in between

hoping to find the one that never dies

Here always

here always
reaching out
with my
whispers
to the sun
hoping they
find you
because i
want you
to know
even in
hollowed
darkness
your eyes
are still
full of stars

Hula Hoops

parked car therapy sessions

with your hand on my knee

you got eyes like mine

windows of secrets

kaleidoscope hula hoops

convicted love bomb

in the iris

small road maps

to survival

together falling

in dilated black pools

blinded by everything

and nothing

all at the same time

Night of the ageless

searching the curves

in symmetry

remnants of thoughts

from nights our bodies

were caressed by

fingertips

sheets drenched

from poetic exchanges

whispers fade

into silence

when drifting to sleep

embers will still burn

in the quiet of slumber

meant to have

loving haphazardly

stories written without existence

time running backwards

it all never makes sense

and your mind tries to adjust

to find the depths one must swim

to feel the love you were meant to have

Fire pussy

flower venom
field of glass
museum of the arts

beautifully flawed
midnight tongue
reckless rhymes
sliding down your throat

writings on crooked pages
plasma blossom ink
smearing dotted lines

keepin men’s splines chilled
in the wine cellar
and you scream out for more

On any given moment

on any

given moment

i can write

a reckless poem

but tonight

i think of you

and words form

across this page

with tangled verbs

they caress

the folds

between

the treetops

to tell the world

you are mine

to tell the world

we are one

standing structure

being held by

the whispers

that live between

just us

Triggers

fuck all

the pussy

so they can

feel dead inside

kill the living

kill those who

mean nothing

who had too

much life

too much status

let them know

what it feels like

to be empty

because some

need to be

taught a lesson

that dragging

your feet

through many

busy streets

has only resulted

in a mix of

not giving a

flying fuck

so beat down

those fleshy

desert flowers

and piss on

all of them

to leave

your mark

you will

come back

with a new

set of rules

and i will

be here

waiting

to break

every single

one of them

Before all this

hollow shell of a man

waiting to be filled

with something

other than stillborn

memories

over 125 pages read

in one sitting

pages you didn’t

know i had

marked by love’s end

pages sliding

between my fingertips

an orchestra living in low notes

discovering a new season

learning the way

of loneliness, pain

mapped out in blueprints

from quiet spaces

orange and yellow

railroad earth

horizons fall with

delicate mathematic

equations

bits of you kept hidden

i’ve seen

you have more to give

from a heart of barbwire

unhinged doors

windows

souls of regression

invisible bones keep

standing

how bad does it hurt?

let’s hold hands to communion

to sunrises

walking into any or all things

blind

dreamscapes can sometimes

get caught in transgression

midnight raw antics

graveyard shifts

you may think

you are late in coming to this

but you have been here

the whole time

four decades looming

over balcony seats

the watchers studying

every move that’s made

but even then

it can still happen here

the moments that have never been

are possible to hold

but what hope awakens

when you are all alone?

don’t want this to be

the last days of us

but what i see

and all i know

is written in between

your double spaced

confession of an unlived life

you are not wrong

everything is fucked

it’s

all

FUCKED

everything is a suicide quest

because nothing like the sun

can be replaced

sway with the trees

in the dark like a fool

shed your skin

with dead spirits rising

trip to nowhere

but maybe somewhere

with me

i didn’t know you

before all this

and maybe i don’t know you now

and i’m ok with it

because i’m not afraid

to burn alongside you in the fire