Daily Archives: February 9, 2008


“For Becca” by Ryan Hazinski

My how I've been blessed
With the pure beauty that is you
My how we've progressed
Seems an eternity I've spent with you

You are of a petal-filled rose
Thorns not depicting flaws
Instead showing the strength you pose
A beauty without flaws

You see me as I am
Judgment never crossing your eyes
I cherish the touch of your hand
And the stare of your luxuriant eyes

You make me feel like new
The past thrust behind me
Wanting to continue on with you
Beauty walking right beside me

You have understood and healed me
And I know not of how to remunerate you

“Margarita” by Leonard M. Parks

An odd Saturday it was for Margarita
The night free of little feet
The glasses salted and waiting
The ice ready to make heat of the night
With each lick of the rim, more relaxed she became
With each lick of the rim, more empowered she was
Margarita's confidence filled the empty glass
Her mind now filled, with the salt of desire,
Her emptiness now filled with power
So intoxicating, she robs the snake of his apple
Offering only a lime of passion
Peeling her skin, she reveals her fruit
The beauty of it, the feel of it
The taste of its juice
The hunger to sow her seed of seduction
Now controls her
She
Now controls him
An odd Saturday
it was

“Escape” by Leonard M. Parks

When I need to get away,
I tightly close my eyes.
And in my mind I take myself,
To where your body lies.
You're sleeping in the early hour,
So effortless you breathe.
I place my hand upon you,
To feel your body heave.
I slowly move your hair aside,
With just my finger tips,
So I can see the softness,
Of your face and kiss your lips.
And in your sleep; I sit and gaze,
My heart cannot conceive,
With what I feel inside of me,
As I'm about to leave.

“The Heart That Dies” by Leonard M. Parks

The cure you search, your secrets told
For what inside your past you hold
You look to me to set you free
From demons of eternity

Release you from your uncle's hold
The childhood scar, which no one told
You talk to me for months on end
The past you try, you hope to mend

Doctor's chats and movies viewed
Pillow talk when we were nude
Will this discussing see an end?
What of the message that I send?

A similar past I've also had
But, you can't see because you're mad
Tell me that I can't understand
Of being molested by a man

I feel for you your pain inside
But, you can't see what I hide
You cannot see it in my eyes
You cannot see the heart that dies.

“My Mind Away” by Leonard M. Parks

I close my eyes, my mind away,
Back to flirting games we play.
I think of what you say you'd do;
I think that I would let you too.

So real it seems, cause now you're here.
Now shower demons closet fear,
Just you and me against the wall,
No way from grace can I fall.

'Cause in the darkness you are real,
And so perfect do you feel.
I'm so sure this time's the one,
I have given in, let passion run.

I am so close, I feel your breath;
I will not stop, till nothings left.
But suddenly from out of air,
The past it comes;
I was almost there.

“1-800 BABE” by Lee J. Erdo

Was it those serial installments
fat-catting her lobby, of decrepit flesh?
smiling wryly in recognition of
warm friendly front steps?

ohhh, those
peel and prepare expressions on that face
looking back at hers... like a back door
picture, remembers the wars, we never
speak about, but know they're there?

He calls and the nightmares begin again
She wishes empathy at best
But all she can muster is regret...

Some years later, she smelled the shrugs
in his mind... walking with rags bemused
that life was fine...while folding up
blue lights of his Friday night missions
the ones that cracked her windows and
shattered trusting mirrors
bringing 7 more years of
bad feelings, trying to fad way
a raised black and blue eyebrow that
turned her heart into a melee

She played it by ear, sucking on nerve
any crooked crumbs that spelled a musty
nicer word... was good wine in his hands
drifting him back to a magic moment
where ego feels so darn warm and graceful
while cradling darkness which was rapidly
waning the hum of unfamiliar roads
leading
to his hideaway...in a place most never go

He calls and the nightmares begin again
She wishes empathy at best
But all she can muster is regret...

Even now, she smells his faint but
hellish grudge, that vomits her, to face
the sounds of his voice... she rushes to
close today, to sleep... to forget
like falling through a manhole and coping
with matters of mocking regret... snapping
her jaw clean in two... her pleas sounding
pathetic and feeble

He called and the nightmares began again
she prayed to feel sympathy, empathy, something
but the nightmares of cages returned
in walls of sadness embarking trains of refrain

Deeply tucked in the recesses of a new and better life
drifting back to magic moments of childhood,
embracing christ
a new voice gargles her morning routine, having
a second chance at days she had forgotten

Holding her head higher now, earning her own money
being brought back by some power of infinite longing
while she finishes her cigarette, and closing the door behind
she feels the once bidding fear, turn into amusement

there is a passage into womanhood, she never
knew existed, an attachment growing while
drifting into thoughts, of sultry independence
that once forgotten glow, shyly returns
upon her daily mundane chores that allow
and touch her heart, knowing each sunlight hour

closing her eyes, to allow the words to well
across paper... from pen
knowing no more alarm, just the sage of
joy and sadness that knocks on her door
waiting to hear her say, "come in"

“Man Eater” by Lee J. Erdo

She is rain bouncing off a tin roof
swallowing peace and quiet
assaulting the senses
until doubtful redemption
becomes a religious fanatic
that any weekend would ignore
leaning back in the dentist chair
i take it without anesthesia
the bloody time she evokes
while smiling pleasantly
until you think the snow will
have gone by tomorrow
she counts innumerable
similar meanings
stealing china,
silverware,
you name it
even
oil companies cower...
the
emphasis on
very high maintenance
she recites darkness
like a passionate child
every line calculated
manipulative
she cannot give
what she's never known
you wonder
where it's all going to end
charging him a small fortune

oh
how I wish it were material debt
this demon would drain
the life from Jesus
you can't build
a future with chaos
fascinated by her
sill-twitching corpse
I watch him turn white
betting every nickel he's earned
slowly
sublimitally
she puts their house on the market
cursing and gambling family
until we're all
devoid of life and hope
she regrets nothing
a class act
disguising bitterness with promises
she'll never keep or know

you can taste the garlic
she breathes down
each serene perspective
it's her way...
he buries feelings in the yard
like an unloved dog who
thinks himself happy
he has compromised
his quaint ways
no longer finding humor
he straightens his tie
before opening the door
to remind her of his sacred oath
dying a little more inside
everyday
his much abused
credit card proving
resilient... in a pathetic way

he is drunk,
tomorrow,
he may be sober
although the cost
of humiliation
manifested by her
raised brow and sideways glances
may knock him to
the other side of the road, where
darkness comes and goes
gasping for air...

she stands over him, screaming
a high pitched ear breaking
noise
tapping her foot
looking at his watch...
holding his much
needed oxygen while
tightening the noose
until he suffocates,
between her breasts

she is a man eater
who cares more about results
then feelings
this is his job for life...
he's embarrassed while
tragically
being eaten alive