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Skating on thin ice,

I cut weighted figure eights —

A new year, old fears.

 

 

 

 

© 2016 Chantale Rêve

All Rights Reserved

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[Free Images] Graphics, Illustration, Graphics - People, Warrior / Knight, Sword / Knife ID:201208061200

One buoyant call at the heartbreak of midday

Disrupted desolation’s hypnotic lullaby,

Placed a damned soul’s desperate plan on hold,

Whisked subterranean shadows away.

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Through my iPhone his lush baritone

Throbbed past brown fuzz into my ear,

Shocked flatlined blues into brisk blips,

Breathed oxygen into triple sets of wasted lips.

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Intoxicated with intravenous chordal bliss,

I wowed my alias in vowing not to be a stranger

If only my caller would delay the date

On which we shall reciprocate a fated eternal kiss.

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Poem “Unlimited Knight Time and Bleak’s-End Minutes”  © 2015 Chantale Rêve  All Rights Reserved

Image by AliCe玥

Barracoon

2014/05/18


Chain

 

 

 

Chained, sin on my lips,
Bruised within my seeded womb,
I long to jump ship.

 

 

 

 

© 2014 Chantale Rêve

All Rights Reserved

 

 

Photo Source:  publicdomainpictures.net

Photographer:  George Hodan

 


 

 

I must confess

That even if I could

Halve, quarter, eighth or sixteenth

My flesh, bone and blood,

I would not.

 

 

I am raw oxtail teased with spices,

Tossed in with tomato and diced veggies.

My meat has absorbed une mélange de saveurs

That makes lovers salivate over my succotash

Sneak under the cover to lick the pot.

 

 

Despite an atavistic hot mess

From mostly forced miscegenation

Forged through economics, lust, hate and greed

Sprouted from seeds over beaucoup de générations,

Pride I’ve still got.

 

 

I forgive ruthless

Statements that, unlike my hair,

I’m an “oreo,” rootless beneath the skin —

For every moment and in pure love

I live and breathe Divinity and Blackness.

 

 

Poem:  “D.N.A. (deliciously naked authenticity)”  © 2014 Chantale Rêve   All Rights Reserved