Jack The Ripper

Summer has changed. Shadows walk loudly
through the forest.
I never thought I could multiply this way, but
you help me heat the sun. Now I’m locked
in the middle of a road
that I don’t know,
your feet planted in front of my knees.

A door falls asleep. I meant it for life.
Poisoned fruit for useless tongues. Then your
taste proved me wrong.
I lay on my back
and watch the morning cry. I made the forest
lie, but you’ve been lucky.

Jack the Ripper crossed the river and hung
up my soul. Now I chase the dark for you.

Hear You Me

Here is something pretty for my followers today. If you’re feeling sad, grateful, hopeful, or wanting….XOXO ~ MM

Canker Sore

I think of my skeleton as a
canker, burning hollow in
a deep, deep cave.

My son cries about my skeleton and
I tell him,
“hush now! It is just bones. 
It is just white, not blood or bed.”
And it is not.

I have a long, thin canker and
I have a man with knitting hands.
He wraps me in warm stitches;
in strong pursuit.
He points me with pressed thumbs
just enough that
I pound with his heartbeat.

I am a canker and he is a mouth hosting
an ulcer. He cleans,
cauterizes me with searing tips and
I cry about my skeleton and he says,
“hush now, it is just bones.”
But, it is not.

The Stew…Part 2

Oh My! They have been stitched back.
All my pieces have
been reassembled. It must have
been when the cooking
wine drove me to
blackness.

I was lying in a knot
in front of the oven, where
my stew had been cooking. I left, from
the kitchen, into this blackness.
When I awoke,
my pieces were positioned back to
their former posts!

They are not what they used to be, not
nearly as attractive. Nobody else would
ever choose these parts! But,
they are perfect to me! Exactly how I want them!
I’m still hurting, the pain is jabbing – bulging in and out
at the stitiches.

I do not mind though. For now, I scream, I writhe in
agony, I attempt sleep in discomfort. It will fade though and My pieces will
never work how they used to.