GREEN

Psychotic and empathic nature
tea
windowplants
headwall
your migrainy face
jealousness

PINK

Friday sweaters
lip gloss
the piggys of a lost collection
my camera
your finger tips

BLACK

Times New Roman on the laptop screen
64 X 25 on a typed page
punctuation marks
the ink I prefer in my medium ballpoint pens

the dress you dream of taking me off
the high heels that combine
my long, luscious hair,
my deep set eyes,
my batty eyelashes,
my arched eyebrows: my glance

YELLOW

morning sun
watching sunflowers
underlining highlighters
steaming chamomile

ORANGE

The big warming setting sun
citrus morning juice
carrots, papaya, yam
magnets on the fridge

BLUE

February sky
The rim around your eyes
being away from you

RED

satin rose petals
jewel-toned wine
soft caressing velvet
parting lips hungry for a kiss

THE DARK BEING

There was a being who had no questions,
Thus the surrounding darkness.

CITY RAIN

It's raining in the city--
outside the ghosts of buildings are hidden behind the mist,
the grey backs the towers and the antennae of the valley,
the raindrops slide sadly and slowly down the windowpane,
a woman insists on hanging the just washed clothes to dry,
cats, dogs, doves and birds can't be spotted anywhere at all,
cars drive like a procession going to a funeral,
few umbrellas walk by clutched by hurried hands.
The mood inside sways between cozy and mad, between warm-hearted and longing.

DON'T STOP BELIEVING...

Hold on to that feeling!
(How longer?)

EXPECTATIONS

One shouldn't build on them, they can always be washed up by life's brutal reality.

YOU CAN'T ALWAYS HAVE WHAT YOU WANT

Why!?

RELATIONSHIPS

I've come to the conclusion that I don't understand men.
Or women.
Or friends.
Or family.
I guess I don't understand humanity.
Or maybe I just don't understand myself.

ALONE

Walking in the street
people come and go,
They ask and answer
in the market
food smells
vendors offer their goods.
It's chilly although sunny.
I'm in a soundproof bubble
alien to their world
I hear but I don't listen.
Your words still hammer my ears,
my eyes,
"You deserve better."
What do you know what I deserve?

BOING IS BOING

Love is love
sex is sex
love is not sex
sex is not love
love might imply sex
sex does NOT imply love.

Ok, let's have sex!

THE QUESTION

To write or not to write, that is the question.
What to write?

FOUR BIRDS

Four birds stand on their wire contemplating what lies ahead.
Suddenly, three birds fly away, to the next wire.
The fourth bird stands. Watching, waiting, weighing.
It turns. Decidely it flies. Away, away, away, beyond the next wire, further.

S-E-X

Making love is totally apart.

Then we have all kinds of sex:
kinky sex
sexy sex
casual sex
pity sex
routine sex
wild sex
animal sex
married sex
older sex
younger sex
teacher sex
student sex
cyber sex
drunk sex
do-I-know-you sex
know-you-so-well sex
boring sex
surprising sex
new sex
one night stand sex
customary sex
pushy sex
adultery sex
guilty sex
free sex
careless sex
safe sex
just sex
suddenly sex
planned sex
seductive sex
morning sex
late night sex
dawn sex
easy sex
quick sex
immature sex
passionate sex
master sex
mature sex
cinycal sex
pseudosex
any other ideas...?

SOMEWHERE

The valley between the mountains that nourish passion.

The bowl that receives the first tremors that shake the peaks.

The space that yearns holding your head between acts.

The channel where sweat runs through, emphasizing the perfume of love.

The hall where the beating echoes.

The runway where your fingers and your tongue, after and before.

The nest where my desire waits to be satisfied.