A poem

catchin zz’s on a city porch, deaf to the sycophantic sounds of El Farol,
not a care in the world,
a slip of silvery red lifts her head, to spot this human watcher,
curiosity frames her dreamy face, contentment oozing — she stretches in the warm, cedar tree-lined shadows

is you tummy full on city strays? I haven’t seen a squirrel in days —

her mysterious den pondered, slips into dusk discerning notes,
and awakens the illusive power found in nots —
not to conform, not to confront, not to be country prey
this essence of her’s dances to me on…

a pragmatic love poem

poor you, in unrequited loves’ story

self-pity becomes you — on some other planet,
in some other universe, on some unborn galaxy —

can’t you take a hint? respect your damn self,
enough to not waste precious time — the only finite gift given —
on some idiot who can’t receive your beauty, while
there is someone, and someone else, and another —
who will cherish you

the real world waits patiently for you to
wake up to the present moment —

Oh to be in love with love itself — really
is a beautiful thing, but only after

A poem full of longing

On our knees, we sublime, prostrate ourselves to each,
human and divine

With one reverent touch, an answer to worship’s resolve,
an intoxicating residue is created, in the places

A steady gaze, our glimpse, cradles this moment,
into ecstasies footed round, a blissful moment of desire

Until we, once enchanted, are left wanting, in another’s cast

©Annine Massaro, 2021

Thank you J.D. Harms for a wonderful prompt! I have been reading a book by Nancy Qualls-Corbett, entitled The Sacred Prostitute — Eternal Aspect of the Feminine when I received this prompt and of all crazy, beautiful synchronistic…

the afterworld

No white bird cryin, just this possessed lil’ italian girl’s quiet revolution,
to escape that night, worthy of a princely price,
privileged to carry the unshed anger, the swallowed tears,

can you see me? no longer coherent, his spirit waiting for the eldest son to say goodbye,
can you hear me? they said he was making too much noise, disturbing other patients throughout the night, the drone and faceless staff — he was suffering, the answer given when asked,

fuck you/no one gave permission for more morphine/he was awake and alert yesterday/how is this fair? each screaming word sewing her…

A ceremonial some day poem

only to wound again

mechanical sex drive, choked out real life,
fueling plastic air, an indifferent addiction,
potent pain medicine, no blurry lines to ponder,
extreme life left to rot and spoil, absent an anchored middle ground,
bloody exposures covered, no tourniquet for the heavy heads, leaking an intricate web of half-truths,
sweet hope,
another taste throws the merciful heart off scale, only a shattered justice given to rescue those that have been taken,
escape from real life had become real life, and oh…before you go, just as a ceremonial last gesture, a salute if you please, a funeral shovel full of fear —
we’ll do away with…

02 June 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: major philosophy

Say, who’s got it on lock? horse shit, nothing more than a crock,
the gilded golden rule, insanity of me,
a head shaking, internal crying, deeper lying, issues, hey baby — get you some tissues, still clingin to an unbeknownst suicidal ride called s e p a r a t i o n?

humpy dumpty falls again, to pandering crowds, in a wartime mix,
amongst shooting arrows, of images and sounds,
a battle for our mind space, is attention with haste really attention at all?
the penning of our precious, precious time,

or is it really the minority, fear…

29 May 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: explanations

why does the color blue make me sad? — this thought pecking still, the week before, in my kitchen while I conjured up an old, favorite love song, stories, drawn in the comfy/ leather/ YouTubed ready chair, head flung back, herbal cig relief— drag inhaled,
but for this one piece over too quick, drowning in the quieter tick, tick, ticking time noted, and the open windowed laughter breezed in as my kitty cat, a bit rough tongued, licked my toes,

and I cried until my eyes were sore, when Mama walked out the door yesterday, I’m so sorry Annine, so…

26 May 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: capitulation

this is your bill to pay, where did the money go?
huh? you did what? pissed it away,
it makes no sense, nonsense of the past, lasts, feels like a
thousandth time, tried everything except
failed optimism, the key to a foray into the heart of let it alone, leave it be, can’t fix stupid,
what the fuck, I CAN’T make you see _IT_ my way, reality’s play,
no shoving into anothers brain the movie that is mine,
perceptions and all, I wish, shit,
shit shit shit…show, frustration’s a familiar ride,
not over it yet, still trying to do it away,
I grab the sucky green colored…

An unexpected bit of forgiveness

He wears a robe of soulless
light, and is a wounded little boy, who lives inside these
stolen spaces,
and thought the take their joy

The masks of others that he wears,
he does not know are there,
as he grew, these senseless gifts, and roles he played
would shield him from, the hideous pains
the Law of Love knew his little heart,
could never, ever bear

For you see his home is darkness,
a tiny, chill filled room,
he runs around in deathless
circles, no comfort, not even a window light
by the moon

As a holy man he…

Annine Massaro

Poetess, Anchor and Lover of the divinity of language, Champion of the Healing Power of Poetry. I write to be made whole. https://www.facebook.com/anninemassaro

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