Poets and artists published in Spectrum Online Edition: Love Lines are invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, January 21st between 3 and 5 pm PST. For more publishing opportunities, go to: http://spectrumpublishing.blogspot.com

Saturday, January 7, 2023

Veronica Jauregui

The paradisiacal realms


Every so often 
in guided meditation 
She'd take us there-
A place where birds 
Sung their hearts out effortlessly 
Plants danced at their song
Flowers and fauna bloomed in a 
Prehistoric melodic fashion 
Everything smelled of the most 
Forlorn flower-sex imaginable 
Flowers were the first 
To have scent 
To persuade all insects of their love
Each petal satin 
In a myriad of designs 
Colors and shapes 
To fit any and all
Creatures lucky enough 
To have wings 
We know that even we are flowers 
We hide it behind layers of clothes 
Layers of make up 
Leather shoes & socks 
But in true nakedness 
The kind that lingers for 
Moments that yo on for days, months 
And years 
It's a mindset 
The Snell of both appeals 
Attracts the other huge flowers 
Of the night 
As the extinct birds ding yo them 
We undulate in the night 
Moving as the flora and fauna 
To the song of the night 
Falling victim to the 
pollen and the stem 
The ravaging smell 
of delight 





Slow Smolder 

There is no fire 
It would not be a state 
of emergency 
It was a slow Smolder 
Which would last 
The fires of coal mines 
We had not even touched 
But the smolder was glowing 
Was enticing 
Was smiling at my bed 
He mixes me in his life 
Intermingled me 
Until i became 
A shirt he was wearing 
If be in his pocket 
Peeking through at cafes 
Where men were only allowed 
Listened as he talked about me 
How he knew i loved 
How he described 
My body to men-
Made them smolder 
as well 





Morrocco blue 

The bath with it's white tiles 
With blue lines 
Filling the gaps 
I've read this Morrocco blue 
In contemplation of the color 
Of enlightenment 
He wants & knows 
I want to see him 
He knows i want to see him bathe 
As well alone
With the water as my hands 
He uses a bucket there 
The bucket is filled with my love 
Lathering my hopes 
My fears 
Upon the bucket pour 
They disappear and form 
My deepest wants 
Needs 
Why i strive for this bliss 
In so many ways ?
Bliss engraved in blood 
And vein pulsing within 
He took piece by piece 
Each kiss each 
Each smile 
Each piece of clothes one by one 
Eyelids closing & opening 
The slowness of time 
Encapsulated 
In voyeur discretion 
The blue melted my eyes 
What i thought was enlightenment 
Was his naked body 
In perfection 
My body knew at this moment 
Nothing else 
Could complete it 
Quite like his 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Alicia Mathias

    for: J.A.F. MY LATE GRANDMOTHER'S  LONG-LOST PEARL returns  to its  setting