Original Poem-- Free Verse

PLEASE--

Lick my wounds,
shake my spirit...
Let me hold you,
fragile figure,
against my rain-soaked blazer.

Let me be held,
by you.
Engulf me in your leather
jacket, which reminds me
so much
of my father.

Let the patchwork green
riddled red, lined interior
bleed into the reflection
of my cheeks.

Let your beat-keeper
bruise my eardrums,
worm its steady pace,
Into my cerebral.

Let the world go warm--
Let the world go dark inside.

Original Poem- Free Verse

If You See Me, Tell Me to Come Home

Somewhere in L.A.

my ghost waits in a glass box

on the corner of Spring and 4^th.

Confined by the crystal,

it leans tipped against a garbage can,

where the beggar woman

with the hunched back,

knitted sweaters, ruddy shoes

finds her late, evening supper.

It's the same place where,

the Skid Row rascals, flying rats

reside, picking their teeth

masticating on the city carcasses

left decaying just beyond

the subway gates

and public park entrances.

And somewhere in L.A.,

a man labors towards a goal left dangling

on a string,

just out of reach
of these demons.

He works hard, hardly talks

except to the one who dreams

of his phantom,

laying still, breathing silence

holding his ghost

on the Eastern Shore.

Now, somewhere here

I’m left wondering...

The other piece of me,

sobbing, crying out for the man

whose ghost I’m not holding.

Gallery Poem

PRISCILLA PUG

She hangs crooked slightly
On a wall,
Eyes beady, bold.

She's staring
Curls primped, proper,
Just above shoulders.

She hears
The photographer
Say "Treat!"

With a tilt,
Twist of head,
Flash of bulb,

She's captured,
Developed,
Caged,
Trapped.

-Rachel Doda