Thursday, October 22, 2015

Mimi - Mona Poetry: The Seeing Eye of Truth

Everybody lies.

That’s what research suggests. However, criminal liars act pre-emptively; e.g., they will contact the police or, after being questioned, may contact their victims or victims’ families. When questioned by the authorities, they don’t give simple “yes” or “no” responses to questions as an innocent person will. They provide too many details and lie about the small things. They will refer to their victims (if murdered or injured) in the past tense. When asked direct questions, they will try to stall by saying, “huh?” or “what do you mean?”. And, they helpfully offer other explanations, e.g., they saw another person or suggest another person hoping it will throw of the authorities. They will even suggest an innocent party committed the crime.

©The Seeing Eye of Truth
Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

Fragmented lies without foundation
bleeding a dark pigment of discontent;
conscious-stricken, I’m shushed,
I am commanded to hush;
speculating whether I will
shoot down their returning rising star—
No. Never have, will not now.
Accusation demanded— refused.
The evil that split this small world
manipulates, accuses, lies; the
star allowed to return
proffers the attacked false alibis and
crosses fingers behind his back
as he stands puffed self-righteously
like the billowing sail of an
oaken vessel pirating night skies.
Creators of words, songs, and movies
are labeled liars breathing life into
fantastic tales invented and shared.
Stop. We are the truth sinners,
not those with limited self-esteem,
those who eschew the arts and truth,
those who press labels across producers of
honest and sincere bodies of works;
not the hypocritical deceivers and
who deviously and jealously
slip in between the dusty blind slats
to covertly ambush and disorient
the color schemes of those with
the Seeing Eye of Truth.

(art: the_all_seeing_eye_by_killingspr)

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Mimi - Mona Erotic Poetry: oh, how he loves me

have been away on a much needed vacation but did a little work even while I was having fun...which reminds me. I tried on a new dress, stepped outside the curtained dressing area, looked in the mirror, then said, "You know, there's just no way to make this look hot." To which he replied, "I think you could pull off pudding if you wore it." And, so I wrote...

©oh, how he loves me
Mona Arizona
All Rights Reserved

oh, how he loves me
with his knife to my throat
begging for promises
that I’d never leave
that I’d always stay

oh, how he loves me
with failed advances
and failed attempts
to unbutton his jeans
to unzip mine

oh, how he loves me
to wear a mask
to dress up for a role
to let him in the back door
when the front was open

oh, how he loves me
chained to the railing
of the basement stairs
or pinned to the wall
or bound in the moving train

oh, how he loves me
to blow his mind
and trap me between
his quivering thighs
suffocating my sighs

oh, how he loves me
through the laughs
and the madness
and eccentricities
of my crazy love bites

oh, how he continues to love me
day after day after day after—