Poem: Tanka – “Dirty Skin”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the word prompt dirty.

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http://www.polyvore.com
 

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Covered in dust all over,

Dirt caked on every inch of skin.

Brushing particles,

Away from sensitive eyes,

All to see you better — to inhale.

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Soap washes away dirt,

But in this heat, hot breeze,

All matter dust sticks,

One never feels clean enough.

Today, I can breathe, you’re gone.

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It’s a funny twist,

Your presence makes me feel dirty.

Think skin abrading,

Thoughts, warm my soul, other spots–

Bodies in heat, sweaty, raw.

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Toiling in the sun,

Fair skin has no chance, burns.

You’re looking out,

Eyes meet and sensation, wins.

Your walking here, I can’t breathe.

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You tip my chin up,

Looking into eyes feasting,

Pale meets dark, dirty.

Nights and days never the same,

Washing away dirt, you stay.

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Blessed water heals scorch.

But your skin burns mine deeper.

Your eyes look, don’t stop,

Your forever watching me,

Easy smile knows how to replete.

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To hot for words, said.

You’ve ruined me for other men.

I’m exalting at sin.

Beads of sweat, on my cheek soft.

Bite my lip, sweat and blood lost.

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All this dirty skin,

Such a pain to clean again,

Your ‘dirty‘ overwhelms.

Sin I can’t seem to forbid.

When our bodies entangle.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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BRUNCH PARTY TIME…LIVE LINK it’s a PARTY!👔👡🎶🍦🍰🍛🍕🍗


Jacqueline from A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales, is having a party! Come share your blog, have some food, and meet some other bloggers too!

a cooking pot and twisted tales

PLACE YOUR ORDERS HERE ;-)PLACE YOUR ORDERS HERE 😉

Hop in let’s get this party started. You are most welcome.Just make yourself comfortable.

Refreshments are nicely arranged down the page: Drinks, Chocolates, Cakes, Donuts, freshly squeezed juice, Coffee, Tea and so much more. 🙂

We even have an Intercontinental Chef in the house. LOOK UP and place your orders 😉

Just a little rules of play:

  1. You must mix and mingle with others. Don’t be a wall flower. Go say hello to someone and you can participate in the Tag a poem up above.
  2.  Please leave your blog link or post link in the comment box below along with an introductions.
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Poem: Free Verse – “Just Go”


http://www.blogingleinternational.com

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I want to just go, 

Travel somewhere,

Where waterfalls splash,

And swimming is the norm.

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I want to just go,

See the Duomo in Florence.

Walk the streets of Milan.

See so much art, I’m blinded.

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I want to just go,

View waters so blue.

See Coral reefs glow.

Relax in the sand.

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I want to just go,

Shop silk scarves, leather shoes,

Barter and buy,

Even though I’ve been taken.

——

I want to just go,

Drink bellinies and Margaritas,

Do a few shots straight tequila,

Sit on the deck, by the pool.

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I want to just go,

Hike the trail through fiolage,

Pretend I’ve no allergies,

See the sunset at night.

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I want to just go,

But limitations stop me,

Energy and time,

Money and people too.

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I want to just go,

Someday I’ll break free.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: You’d Have to Pay Me


This is the first time I had ever had to sign for a letter addressed to Occupent.The letter was nothing special, only a neighbour complaining about the billboard this company pays me to have on my lawn. The company mails me a cheque for $500 a month to leave their horrid billboard painting alone. I try not think about it or look at it much. 

If Gary in the Condo next to me doesn’t like it, too bad for him. I put his most recent letter in the garbage. Clever of him to have it sent to me as ‘occupant;’ he knows my name well.

As I am leaving my house for work, I glance at the billboard. The lady on it looks like some nightmarish clown. At least, my niece thought so when she visited with my sister. Sara hated to sleepover because outside the spare bedroom window is the billboard. I love Sara but the billboard stays, it pays part of my mortgage. I don’t mind switching rooms with Sara for the night she comes to visit me once a month.

On my way to the car, I see my neighbour Gary. I wave and run over to my billboard smiling and giving the billboard a thumbs up. Gary, an elderly man in his seventies, scowls at me. I wave to him again and drive off squeeling my tires and honking at Gary who shakes his fist and swears at me loudly as I pass him in my car.

I don’t care. If Gary paid me $500 a month to not have the ugly billboard on my lawn, well that would be the only reason I would be getting rid of the billboard. Until then, the hideous monument remains on my lawn.

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http://www.publicdomainarchive.com

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Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.