one moment off west 139th

i sit waiting
with nothing
but the conversation of a ceiling fan
to keep me cool
as you shower nearby
a weaker man
would be jealous
of the steady jazz made
with warm water as knowing fingers
and your body a nubile saxophone

i sit waiting
hearing cast off cat-calls
from old heads at the corner store
eyes closed
waiting for the creak of the door
the wafting scent of shea and lilac
the whisper of your hips beneath the towel
as you walk to the bed
hum Nina as you pick silk to slip into
and Harlem for a minute falls silent

haiku 8.30.13

not every flight
is fancy;faith is the breeze
you don't see that guides

tanka for dean 'dream' meminger

another Harlem son
who moved like a dream, found the
nightmare was stronger;
the time clock ran out
may the Dream rest well

breathless strawberries (for lolette)

your lips now

will always be

the impassioned birth

that lies at the end of this

pause i call

waiting.

fresh strawberries

nude, inviting 

with the gleam of arousal

plump with desire

awaiting the bite 

only a lover's kiss promises.

your lips

do not promise a respite 

from that cauldron made

by bodies coursing against each other

in fact

your kisses may burn best

without any oxygen

or reason to fuel.

midnight bourbon and cool silk

she walks with hair like
acrid smoke tousled with perfume
eyes daubed in azure at their edges
and flesh like condensed milk brought to a boil.

her touch must be like
the first feeling of cool silk
upon freshly showered skin
in a room that greets dusk openly.

curves beneath her blue shift
dress as waves that lap at costa rican beaches
and her words pour like midnight bourbon
leaving me a pleasurable burn as i take them in.

corner boy haiku #9

hang ten and hold tight
on iron surfboards; losers
wipeout on third rails

haiku 8.1.13

like Eve and apples
she felt that last pull of herb
bite and flip her mind