words are foreplay for the soul

Archive for the ‘Poetry Slam’ Category

January 11th, 2017 by Akua


I prowl restless empty streets

Savoring your breath upon the wind

Hungry for lips, tongue, the hard safe circle of your arms


Indoors, art-strewn walls sing and remember our passion’s roar

We are animals sated, panting

Love-slick drops roll down our limbs entwined


At night I sink into a white-pillowed embrace

Dreaming ecstasy, dreaming bliss

The seeds of hunger buried deep, fermenting


Morning dawns and I lie curled in your apostrophe

You whisper the day’s excitement

Enchantment is birthed anew

November 18th, 2016 by Akua


Sunshine melts into jeweled waters

Wave after foamy tumbling wave insouciantly approaches wetted sands

A community of graywhite gulls awaits sunset

Pods of black-suited surfers bob companionably over the far reef

Determined walkers leave deep-heeled prints

Wide empty seaweed-strewn sands beckon, remembering summer crowds

Shoes in hand, we amble where ocean meets earth, leaving no trace

November 5th, 2012 by Akua



In the far, far places where

mermaids sing and fishes cry for their mothers

there are no sounds

only the soft slapping of waves


Your heart stills and your breath sighs raggedly

but your feet keep moving, moving

pushing your warm soft pliant body of

stitched-together skin stretched over tangled red-blue pulsing cords

and hard-breathing whitened bone

to find the spot where sky meets earth


You sit and wait

for a sign, a sob, a sweetness

but the roar inside silently deafens

and drowns your fears and ambitions,

grinding past-present-future into a bright purple Now


In the far, far places where

mothers sing softly and ancient stones weep

there are no songs and no stones

except in the stillness of memory

and creation of what-comes-next


This is your time.

This is your time and this driving, harsh road is yours — your child.

This road is your child

and its songs are the songs we sing when we are born and when we die.

This is your time, yours and yours alone and

on this road you walk unencumbered, alight, aloft

until one day wings sprout from aching shoulders and

weary feet rest in cool waters

and you breathe softness and splendor once again


November 11th, 2011 by Akua


A beautiful wild dream erupted in pink-glowed majesty this morning. Rough white-tipped waves greenblueing between me and the leafy redyelloworange panoply that lay at the feet of Spirit Father as he rose through the mist into a magical glowing golden sky.



O my father

guardian of this watery green

and low bluegray

on weary feet.

O my father

this, this blink

this gasp

this wonder.

This is why we come

and sing our dreams

into the graycloud skies.



September 21st, 2010 by Akua


Her open mouth screams silent tears,

gasping sobs tear her body into pieces that

float above her, waiting to be sewn back together

One thread drawing them tight and snug again,

a sweater she can thrust her arms into gladly,

wrapping warmth around her icy bare branches.

Inside her, alien flesh pricks with tiny knives,

razors opening sealed wounds that cry scaly tears

and glue their eyes tight shut, denying their misery.

Above her his spiky breath covers her hair, her ear,

dripping down her neck with a snail’s undulation.

She rises, tasting ashes in her mouth, and floats,

now lost in a sea of misty grey,

now lifted above the clouds into brightness.

Her eyes close against the sudden blindness of clarity

and she sees her tiny body far below, broken.

Stars burst, gasp and die.

Colors collide, crayons melting.

The ancestors mourn.

January 12th, 2010 by me

If it’s Tuesday, it must be haiku’s day

From My Window

Gray-blue sky, still wind
Buddhist prayer flags hang from branch
Monday morning cars


Sing Us Peace, They Said

Lapping waves at feet
wheeling seabirds cry above
Sun warms driftwood seat

January 7th, 2010 by me


I long to travel where my body cannot go;

through doors and walls and windows

to unseen worlds of dizzying possibility.

I lie awake, willing a single silver cord

to emerge from my body like an astral umbilicus.

At the mirror I chant I AM

and wait for the reflected worlds behind me to unfold

like petals after a spring rain,

worlds that will swallow me into nothingness.

One day I will scream for an hour so shards of my

shattered heart will break my brain into halves

and I will disappear between them.

Float away, Self, I whisper in my dreams

that follow me like twisted shadows.

Float away and unwind the becoming,

banners at rest and respectfully waiting,

all time suspended.