Deep blue sky, white clouds
Tall green trees, wind in their leaves
That's summer to me

You can’t write a love poem

without feeling love.

You need at least that much; or more.

You need dreams to open.

And a soul to touch.

Maybe a heart half broken.

And a kiss,

One whimsical cloud
Peeking around the corner
To brighten our day

©Kathy Paysen 2010

A dream, I thought about for a long time.
On a white sheet of paper I read, "accept."

Maybe it's in middle age,
with our sagging skin, age spots, moles
pesky skin tags, poochy bellies and

I can taste it on you
the humidity
the heaviness
lingering in the air
such stifling
heat.
I know
it's that what does it
turns you over
turns you on
makes you so
hungry, restless

It was a speck of white,
Now a weave of silver strips,
Sewn like lashes unto the purple sky,
Stretched out arms to an embrace-

Around clouds,
And golden cornfields,

Found Under Carnal Knowledge
How did it get from there to here
This is an abbreviation that has gone amok
How people hear this,cringe at the word fuck
I wonder how this came to be

Have you ever wanted to do something just once,
Only once and never again, and then have it be as if
You'd never done it at all?

It was summer, like now:

Born in night to Dhore and Ghore,
Lots of roar he was to make,
Taught with those the best they had
Fought and won the best of bad,
Turned to red then black and blood,

Between the lines RAOBY July 21 2010

Two pair of tracksuit bottoms
Their legs all intertwined
When cupid blows
Freshly washed clothes
Upon a washing line

To hurt is to feel,
To feel is to know,
To know is to value,
To value is to love,
To love is to heal.

Life without pain isn’t a life lived,
Love without sacrifice, just isn’t love.

I want you
to belong to me
and your lips
of soft leather
a slightly rough
touch
to the skin
the more I stare
the more I want
for them
to run coarsely
over my mouth
just so I can

Walking on white
Powder soft sand
My footprints
Left impressions,
Little signs
Indicating my presence
In the recent past.

As I returned later,
I paused
And struggled to find

20/20 vision!

A clear and perfect sight of the world.

Two bright lightbulbs flashing like headlights.

Set front and center on our faces.

Reflecting in these waters,
was a poet set to rhyme,
a newfound state of passion,
in the wake of seasoned time.
Content to drain emotion,
for the sake of all above.

With clarity of vision,
Eyes washed clear by tears,
I gaze into your eyes,
Eyes that contain the entire created universe,
And more:

Wrinkles on a pallid brow...
Look at me, I'm nothing now
But something for the vultures;
They see it in my cultures
And put drugs in my veins
That kill my will and pains.

~ Just Might Make Me Believe ~

You touch me softly, hesitantly,
as if I am spun glass,
beautiful, intricate, and fragile.
I was all these things once.

Like you, I found myself broken,

We live in a times new roman.
Embeded with any sound or sight we can think of
at our fingertips. We have arial access
to just about any information you can think of.
And info you cant imagine.

One, plump strawberry
Upon entering my mouth
Screams bloody murder!

Linda R. O'Connell © 2010