“Moccasin Mockery”

Photo courtesy of Evangeline Vickery

“Moccasin Mockery”

Moccasin mockery,

Boylston debauchery.

Standing on disparate feet.

Strolling along,

humming a song,

a stranger, the first I should meet.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve no way of knowing.”

“Did you know, you have on two different shoes?”

“I sure didn’t notice.”

“You should channel your focus.”

“Thanks, next time I sure will.”

No longer a stranger,

I’m willing to wager,

as I continue humming a song.

Leaving one for the other

I’ll meet his twin brother.

And find a pair of shoes,

That will match this one.

• Inspired by E. Vickery photo

“Tending To My Disappointment”

 

 

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“Headed Off at the Passé” © C.P. Hickey 2018

 

“Tending To My Disappointment”

 

Tending to my disappointment,

tends to build resentment.

 

Presented with,

an alternative?

 

Salvation lives,

‘tween cultivated,

narratives.

 

Like true lies,

that sanitize,

reality.

 

Reaching back,

far, far, back.

out the back,

of a used hatchback.

 

My conscience becomes a stowaway,

accountability thrown away.

 

Forever, indebted to wrongly attributed superlatives.

Do not forgive a spurious gesture.

 

Misdirection,

always sells you,

gilded gifts and promised pleasure,

but, leaves you concrete pains.

 

Disappointment’s designation:

 

The flames of fear,

feed conflagration,

until there is nothing left but dismally disappointing ashes.

“A Long Musk”

“A Long Musk”

Let’s go down to that secret place.

That place where you can be who you want to be.

Who you are?

Where we can revel in the glory of attraction and anticipation.

Bated breath.

Sweat.

Chest to breast.

Bold biology.

Fulfillment.

Elbows, lips, pliable flesh.

Pink, purple, red, mocha.

Salt kisses, fingers submerged.

Dainty fingertips gliding along the periphery.

Sweat, warm wetness.

Pushing through.

Resistance.

Momentum.

Breathless butterflies.

Connected solely through electric fingertips.

Fingerprints intermingle, DNA altered.

Traveling towards the event horizon, no reset.

Skillful ravaging.

Contentment.

Certain.

Invasive intimacy.

Waves, waves, waves.

Eyes locked.

Final approach.

Hushed encouragements increase the urgency.

Swollen to a point of burst.

A civilization in its ascendency and decline, in one moment.

Palms slapping the top sheet.

Final advances assured.

Bucking.

Thrashing.

Grinding.

No stopping the launch sequence.

Liftoff.

Traveling up into and becoming one with the atmosphere.

Eventually escaping gravity, and floating.

Floating…floating.

A sweet reverie, wrapped in languid limbs and surrendered kisses.

An expanding universe that ends and begins in the loins of lovers searching for meaning.

“Timeshare Chicanery”

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“Woods Hole Harbor” © C.P. Hickey 2009

 

 

 

“Timeshare Chicanery” *

 

Come at once!

Make haste, you’ve won!

For your time,

a handsome sum.

You don’t have to buy,

despite our best try.

You’re free to go.

Just a moment, though.

Sit inside this hotel multi-purpose room,

and listen to our pitch.

You can have a free blender,

even if you ditch.

Let’s share some time,

and time some share.

A few weeks a year,

now that is all we ask.

Are you and your new spouse up to such a task?

Imagine, yourself in a warmer clime,

just sign here,

upon this dotted line.

Floridian, Caribbean,

abroad in some exotic place.

If those aren’t the weeks you want,

you simply trade your space.

Our industry depends on you,

we value your inability to say no.

Once we get a foot in the door,

it’s nigh impossible for you to go.

So, come at once!

Make haste, you’ve won!

You’re luckier than most.

Sign upon the dotted line,

and enjoy a sunny coast.

Two weeks a year,

is all we need,

to puff our bottom line.

We depend on rubes like you,

you are our favorite kind.

*seeded from a phrase offered by, E. Vickery

“Rainbow, or Inner Peace”

Poem 15 of the ProCrasstheNation Poemvember Poetry Project was inspired by my good friend Sidick. Thank you, my friend. I hope to achieve inner peace someday. The journey, not the destination, right? 😎

Screwed” © C.P. Hickey 2017

 

 

“Rainbow, or Inner Peace”

A rainbow,

or inner peace?

Color palette,

ego release.

Shade of meaning,

in reflection.

Nature’s prism,

bends direction.

If I had to choose between,

indigo, yellow, and green,

I’d chant an Om, to the Supreme.

Mental lotus, running stream.

Band of colors in the sky,

dissolving self, draw up inside.

Achieve the sounds of silence.