Tiny Happiness

Tiny Happiness

The hustle and bustle, you’re unconsciously lurching

The angels may touch you but you ignore them while searching

Looking for nothing….. In particular

Your focus is determined, machinelike and vehicular

Your mind is flooded with images of unfounded queries

Instead of investigating, you simply accept these theories

Your dreams are shaded in hues of monochromatic

Your colors have faded; you are now less dramatic

You’ve been downgraded but you’re still emphatic and erratic

Where is this happiness that was promised in abundance?

Habitual crappiness is becoming redundant

And the smell is so pungent

Your inner voice is permanently stunted

Like growth that no longer spurts

Your mind is irreversibly cursed, so selfish; me first

Happiness is tiny, minute; often overlooked

You assumed it’d be shiny, astute an open book

Sometimes happiness dwells deep within

Not outwardly shining

Heed my advice, as you begin introspectively climbing

Fallen Canary (For Whitney Houston)

Your voice was contrary to your physical being

It was a treasure beyond extraordinary means

You were the canary who sang in people’s dreams

You were the canary who knew how to sing

You had a talent that only a canary could carry

Gliding in the skies only landing when necessary

The notes that you carried, could be confused with fairies

You stumbled during flight and your landings were scary

We waited for the return of our legendary canary

Waited days, months slowly feeling weary

You were the canary who enraptured our attention

Sailing through the skies, singing wonderfully without redemption

You were our winged beauty, occasionally stopping to rest

Before soaring again, stretching your vocal cords

And Lord knows how they flexed

Keeping us captivated, in awe, baited breath

Then one day without warning, you abruptly left

Transcending out of your flesh

Your wings are now shimmer flecked

Still singing like a harp being strummed ever so softly

You’re now an angelic being, beyond the skies living lofty

Worldly actions for you were costly

We do miss you dearly

Forever in our hearts; our canary

Invisible Admirer

He’s considered a lurker, eavesdropping on my echoes

Memorizing my words, a sexy grinned smirker

Indexing my reflections, just a text book flirter

I see his hushed shadows

Peeked through his brash

Heart shaped lips, leaking Freudian slips

Then he grasps invisibly around my hips

I can’t break his imaginary grip

I whispered in his ear my one wish…

Charms working like a comfortable saddle

He coaxed me up his stream without a paddle

Soothing words and gazing eyes were used as his shrapnel

Permanently haunting my daydreams like a tattoo

Such an excellent listener

Hope that translates into an extraordinary kisser

Spiraling into my life like a powerful twister

I can no longer ignore you, Mr.

Mr. Admirer, words billow from your mouth like a choir

Gripping my pillow, chockfull of desire, take me …..control me

Be my vampire

Masquerading in silhouette, to the naked eye, we have already met

But that is still a dream, not a possibility yet.

Life of My Party

Dissected wardrobe, my closet’s a blur

Nothing stands out, nothing’s superb

To wear to our shindig, that’s starting at nine

But inside I’m rockets and missiles

Finger nails polished, not my favorite thing

I hate the smell and sometimes it stains

Those facts are ignored as I lint brush my skirt

Wearing the best threads my money could afford

My pockets slightly hurt

Will he notice how painstakingly I prepped?

Flower lotus bomb waiting on his steps?

He ignites my internal nuclear thermal

Electrocuting nerve ends

Turning on the lights

At my party.

Queen of Clouds

They gather around; timidly peeking

For a glimpse of her crown

Is it resting high and round?

Or disheveled, leaning down?

What is her mood this evening?

Quiet and collected?

Or is she restless…. agitated…seething?

The Queen is discernible

But the clouds are in varying hues of grey

Is the Queen feeling vulnerable?

Prepping for a watery display?

Of ash colored clouds and torrential rains

Thunder clapping so loud, children hides in disdain

We truly don’t know, but just in case she puts on a show

Our umbrellas are handy….since she’s the consummate dandy

Swaying either way, dainty and pretty

Then gruff and gritty the following day

The Queen is complex, cunning and shrewd

Wears her heart on her sleeve

She’s emotionally nude

So it’s best not to be rude

She induces clouds that smother the sun out of the skies

Such a passionate lover, puppeteering the rain as her cries

Down pouring for days on end, just to stop and start the cycle all over again

Our harvests will suffer because of the folly of men

Who chose not to love her or shunned her affections

The Queen of Clouds doesn’t respond well to rejections

She’ll take away the sun and cloak the skies in greys

Like the beating of a drum, her thunder echoes down like caves

She frowns upon being betrayed or being a pawn in a charade

Just leave her alone, so we can see better days