Haiku : Fall

tickle — Nena Black
red fall leaves / vibrant blue sky — Nena Black


brisk breeze tickles red autumn

leaves swirl on blue panes

of cellophane sky

tiny black scroll


words / image : © 2013 Nena Black


Moon Dance

tiny-black-scroll inverted

we sing out our souls’ night song
Erzulie’s dark rhythms paint
the midnight skies while

naughty fireflies flirt
with poppies that
should be sleeping

they cannot resist
the chance to dance
with the moon

tiny black scroll


words : © 2013 Nena Black


Raindrops on window
a view through the rain — Nena Black

Until the rain ends,
rainbows will pick their colors;
butterflies will dream.


tiny black scroll


words © 2013 Nena Black

Orpheus Dreams of Eurydice

dance of the poppy
dance of the poppy — Nena Black


i used to sing to her
looking in her eyes
my heart would call the dawn
and the earth stood
still for her

she used to dance for me
the rhythm of her hips would
move the tides and
the flowers of the fields would
sway wildly for her

her hair became the wind
her skin became the sun
her breath became my soul

have you seen her?


tiny black scroll


words / image © Nena Black

distant muse

introspective (self-portrait) — Nena Black

she only wants to touch him
through space, time, soul
to reach him
with her intention
the way
hands stroke
tongues probe
hips writhe and
loins swell

to kiss the crevices
of his abstract mind and
be muse to what emerges
while words and thoughts
replace gazes

tiny black scroll

words / photo © 2013 Nena Black


crushed pearls — Jerry Cordeiro

. . . . .

i don’t know how to talk to you
you make me feel untidy

like a wet cat

my heart falls flat on you
a paper doll in an Escher drawing

those little fold-down tabs
struggling to cling in strange

sliding off your 8 x 10 glossy

wiped like fog from your bathroom mirror
this was not always the case

for we have lain together, beneath callow moons
cloaked in Mnemosyne’s whispers

played together like children, building
castles in the fragile sands of time

run hand in hand together through
the pouring rain of our own tears

still… Continue reading “crush(ed)”

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