A space for biking, haiku, kink, and sassy fiber arts
April 2nd, 2019
Night hides and
illuminates our trespasses
someone will see us
My ass got a lot
of fresh air last year but now
it’s suffocating
Sitting wide open
loose lips calm stirring minds
while tongue consumes them
April 3rd, 2019
Slow almost still
cutting a path on a beetle’s back
I close my eyes
Touch speaks loud
a banshee portends desire
through (with?) fingers grasping
If I promise,
will you split me open again?
–promise to hate you
April is National Poetry Month and with it comes National Poetry Writing Month. I think I’m off to a great start. Hah!
1.
Blue is lost
a twisting path he walks
my hand is empty
2.
Sun sets sky ablaze
as he wakes shakes off sleep
sky returns to blue
3.
With longing
I open my chest
turn my bones to crumbs
4.
Karma kisses me
unnoticed it starts to make sense
nothing is certain
5.
I was a virgin
many times split open
I am one now (still?)
6.
I’m a catch
mounted on my own wall
immortalized
7.
Lay a trail
bleach my bones grind them to crumbs
you’re still lost
8.
Take back your rib
we grew our own from chaff and clay
became something more
We barely spoke
should’ve known your heart was mute
but our meet-cute worked
Drinks cigarettes chaste
Strong Islands kick in at the bar
making out like teens
His hand on my thigh
asks “is this okay?” oh yes
we devour kisses
In public thrilling
lean into his hand at my throat
pulse quickens heart sighs (swoons?)
I found that spot
recognized the tree we used
bent over ass out
Sunsets can’t compare
to the red of my moon
nothing shines as bright
Soft river ripples
lapping on a littered shore
my ass burning red
that word is sour
stinging in my mouth alive
a thousand hornets
Recently I started writing poetry again to process my emotions in a most non-Aquarius way, and along the way wound up writing a fuckton of haiku. I’m in love with it! I can’t stop which suits me just fine because I’ve enjoyed sharing it all with the Internet over on Instagram, but now I’m here to share it in blog form.
(Fingers crossed for a book deal out of the whole thing. Hah!)
Enjoy the filth, sincerity, humor, play, all of it! Critique, please. None of this is perfect so I have no delusions that it’s 100% fire (as the kids say) right off the bat.
I also bike and take part in other creative activities, such as cross stitch, so enjoy that good shit too.
A Scandal on Two Wheels 