Prose; Sex as Source Energy
Authority, document, Testament, creed
Usurps my Love and all Earth deeds
Nurture, Earth, yearning passion, lust
absent fondness, potent throbs concuss.
Strength, virility, manly vigor, force,
potent beat, vacant blow, profuse throbbing course
Pound THE BOOK? It’s the loudest?
Leave my heart on the floor.
You are absent, your soul knows no swell or full core of
my love or your love, the book just ignores.
Woman’s body is feared, she makes life on her own
once man’s seed is deeply sown.
Yet her body creates the greatest of gifts,
a child, not great thoughts that cause a great rift.
Protected: Prose; Blessings
Prose; Snow Crystals (Free, an example of my Prose)
(Thanks to everyone for all the likes on this. I love writing prose and will continue.)💜
I lose my gaze in a myriad of crystal snowflakes
wending their way to the earth.
I wonder if they could be the scads of tears, prayers, thoughts,
and meanderings of humans all over the Earth
who didn’t quite ascend their minds to the pure, white-hot, burning light of well-being to be absorbed by the sun?
The snows will always return until humans are magnetic and hot…
The snows return to earth under
the sacred gaze of bright cardinals robed in red and
chickadees who speechlessly honor and guard their sacred prayer.
Their temple is truly the bare tree,
The faithful, the crystals, kneeling to bow to the cold wind easing to a snail pace…
the evergreen, the stalwart, pounding, sacred heart of the earth who doesn’t even know what forgiveness is. It’s unnecessary.
Blessings to all the Earth’s living to be born again in the winter white.
©1/2/11 Lisa Townsend
Protected: Prose; I Make My Bed
Protected: Prose; Elemental Woman
Prose; Skin
The shell of a turtle, a carapace, guards your continuance of electric water, straight to your brain, pulls your vibration down in by degrees.
Your skin like a husk full of ridges on corn smells sweet,
hard to pull off at the bottom, tassles so soft on my face, the smell of earth.
Your arm was warm and pleasant as the first tomato of summer in my hungry hand.
Let me bite into that luscious fruit, so sweet and tangy
or a mango stream of juice down my chin.
I’m distracted, clement smells from your back
Why are so sweet yet so smart and severe?
No end to touch makes my breathing peaceful.
I feel happy…oh god I’m doomed.
Indeed, it only lasted one day and you ripped your skin from me again.
At least you can’t take the memory from me.
Words can never erase actions like skin can never cover feelings.
Prose; Gray Day
©️Lisa K. Townsend-1/30/2017
The sky is much grayer lack of light and still prayer.
Tree bark darker wet mud dragged upstairs.
No grayer will be in that Michigan sky, mournful woes sad goodbyes.
Sad goodbyes to the bright sun that shocks eyes in May,
It appears a huge orb high in the sky.
We say “What’s that big orange disc by day?”
Who hides behind clouds that we hate.
Oh please dear sun, we beg for your warmth,
We can’t take one more grate of this fate.
My son says, “I don’t know what is better, gray sky or the snow?”His smug face looks at me with a smirk.
He’s eighteen, and he’s jibbing his mother so low.
But he’s serious. He prefers this to hurt.
The hurt of the sun burning down on his face shone wonderful light in his eyes
He was born in a snowbank at the end of this month
Eighteen short years as I rank.
I’ll forgive him this time as there won’t be much more
Of his smart-alec ways to imbibe
He’s going away, out my front door
And that’s when my heart may just die.
Jan. 30, 2017
