Clouded Mind

    The sky,
releasing its drowning cry,
transforms the world into a
maddening sigh.

    The rain,
plummeting with disdain,
fights the fall but descends
in vain.

    The trees,
swaying from the torrid breeze,
shiver and pray for the slightest
of ease.

    My mind,
thinking of thoughts unkind,
wishes for better words to
be rhymed.

(b.m.)

Crash

Our faces are inches apart,
The air between us erotic.
Beating loudly is my heart,
Your steady breathing hypnotic.

The seconds feel like years,
Time is all but frozen.
Forgotten are my fears,
As I live in this moment.

What will your lips feel like,
Crashing against mine?
What will your tongue taste like,
When ours intertwine?

The outside world fades away,
And there's no one but you and me.
Desperate for that sweet foreplay,
I forgo myself completely.

(b.m.)

Closed Windows

I'm 10.

It's a warm summer's day. So much brightness. 

I'm riding in the back seat of the car as mom and dad

happily hum to whatever's playing on the radio, 

with my brother next to me excitedly yelling at his 

Nintendo DS, dramatically waving his fists to the sky

in frustration. The windows are all rolled down,

filling the car with the smell of freshly cut grass.

My eyes are closed, head leaned to the side, letting

the warmth of the sun kiss my face while the

gentle breeze caresses it. I let my arm hang out of

the window, my hand floating in the air like a surfer 

on calm waters.

Peaceful. 

I'm 22.

It's an overcast summer's day. So much humidity.

I'm riding in the passenger seat of the car as my mom

drives in silence, apart from the humming of the air

conditioning. She has a headache. My brother is in the

back seat, body hunched over, face buried in his phone.

Mindlessly scrolling. The windows are all up, and all I

can smell is the stench of a road-killed skunk seeping

through the vents. My tired eyes fight to stay open as my

head slumps back onto the headrest. Dark shaded

glasses conceal my face. Hands restlessly fidgeting

in my lap.

Anxious.

And I was so quick to grow up.

(b.m.)

Riptide

It's something o'clock in the morning on

someday of the week. The softest light is 

peeking through the window, having just started to

stretch its rays and touch the earth.

The birds haven't quite woken from their slumbers just yet,

apart from a few lazily singing out their morning tune,

sounding as if they're saying "just five more minutes."

The only other sound is the rhythmic breathing of

someone in a deliciously peaceful sleep lying next to me,

buried in a sea of my soft white comforter.

The light has now started to stretch its fingers across the bed,

tenderly caressing her face and illuminating a

treasure trove of beauty. No sunrise in the world could

convince me of a more breathtaking view than 

the one here in my bed. 

Laying on my side so we're face-to-face,

I reach my hand out to gently touch her cheek,

enamored by the soft rosy hue and 

carefully arranged freckles.

Then, with a deep, life-giving breath in through her nose,

the most heavenly smile appeared beneath my fingers.

First one, then two, sleepy eyelids slowly lifted

to reveal oceans of blue whose rip currents

pulled me in with the promise of never longing for land

again.

And I surrendered to it. Completely.

(b.m.)

Caress of Sleep

It's barely dawn as I begin to wake,
Caressed by the light of morn.
Outside sparrows claim their stake,
To return to slumber? I'm torn.

Sleep calls my name, a whisper at most,
her gentle touch tugs at my eyes.
Enveloping me, holding me close,
What wonderful dreams there lies.

The promise of morning fades away,
I leave the sparrows to their song.
The beckoning of sleep outweighs,
To her familiar warmth I belong.

-b.m.

Plague

There’s a menacing shadow 

that stalks in the night.

It seeks out the innocent,

& consumes their light. 

It’s poison takes many forms,

a shapeshifter, of sorts.

Whether it be smoke or liquid,

or a solid, like quartz. 

By air it dances without constraint,

sashaying from lung to lung.

By sea it swims into the veins,

through skin or off the tongue. 

It preys on anyone in its path,

no matter how young or old.

Brothers or sisters, daughters 

or sons. Over all it takes its hold.

A prayer for those trapped in its 

jaws, fighting the ultimate fight. 

From the pain they’ll learn to grow,

Like plants to springtime light.

-b.m.

Sparrow Song of Laughter

The sparrow sings his happy song, 

As clouds slowly roll along,

The summer night of mercy,

On the golden shores of Jersey.

His chirps of laughter bathe my 'tentive ear,

A sound familiar, and one I love to hear,

His joy abounds, to sing his cheery tune, 

In the midst of a dewy morn' in June.

His celebration lasts the whole day,

His life fulfilled, as if to say,

What joy must be to sing his song of laughter,

Without a fear of sorrow after. 

-father of the moth
(d.m.)