Voodoo Rue's Poetry Page

Cyclogenesis 

My madness is a
cyclical interloper
blowing in on a summer wind
and staying far too long

There is
warm water to the south
that makes my mouth dry
and leaves me parched

I've run out of wine
but can't seem to find the time
or the inclination
to buy more

There are
masses of spine-bent supplicants
praying to their deities
on bended knees

as if tokens left for saints
or voodoo queens
by fair-weather believers
can save us now

I barely blink
think the fan blades
whirring overhead
have it easy

In my next life I want to be
an inanimate thing
live a life without fear coiling
around in my belly

I want to choose
stillness and peace
over sweat-stained sheets
and dread

and the roaring fear
behind my ears
that is almost drowned out by
the frantic beating in my chest

It is impossible to rest
and keep the stillness
but with every little movement
there is a little death

Between breaths there is
confusion and convection
and a spinning, subtle misdirection
and always the waiting

This is always
how the madness begins
and ends

(c) 2008 Melissa Lewis

**************************************************************

Peaches

My street smells like peaches
in the middle of the night
when I’m drunk
Or perhaps that’s just what I imagine
so tired of the scents of
crowded bars and cigarettes
and stuffy cabs on
humid nights so withering
that I forget it’s autumn and not
the middle of summer
as I stumble over darkened
root-fingers that want me to stay
and sit among the leaves
and scampering anoles
and tell tall tales about the night
I was accosted by the peach trees

(c) 2010 Melissa Lewis

**************************************************************