Thursday, December 10, 2015

Mimi - Mona Poetry: Two Poems Today: You Make Me Feel Like Las Vegas and I Attacked The Glass Ceiling

Two Poems Today; one is erotic...it's from Mona Arizona: You Make Me Feel Like Las Vegas, and the other is (not erotic) from Mimi Wolske: I Attacked The Glass Ceiling




©You Make Me Feel Like Las Vegas
Mona Arizona
All Rights Reserved

Pump me full of unleaded rocket fuel
and ride me to the moon and back;
with a kiss on the bottom stair,
tilt the earth on her axis and
make this edenic moment
whirl within this room—
spin
spin
spin





©I Attacked The Glass Ceiling
like a small unknown mad underdog in a narrow alley,
my head swimming in that infamous pyramid of male power—
Not for you Gloria Steinem Dreaming Is A Form Of Planning
for equal rights—
my barks and land mines served as warning
You Have Met Your Match Except I Am Intelligent
and I was scaling a national fight on a small unpublished scale
for all bitches to have the same rights to those full-sized bones
of survival any of the most powerful oppressive tyrants had.

Hear Me Howlll

Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved


Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Mimi - Mona Poetry: ©Two Is Not The Aurora Borealis Draining The Ocean of Red

©Two Is Not The Aurora Borealis Draining The Ocean of Red
Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

Google+


Your heart,
an acorn
in the night sky,
became
surreal...
broken reality
stored by hopeful
lovers
in alabaster jars,
hidden behind
a crest of lips
filigree-etched
on an altar,
possessed
by the gods
and blackened
by their fire.

My alien bones,
in the universe’s
cracked mirror,
lay beached
just beyond
the sea’s foam,
crushed,
multiplied
like so much
scatological
obscenity
collected by
beachcombers
for you—
saved to net—
another
unseen
gamboling
sylph
inked and pinned
into the boxed
collection
of ancients
from the air
to be revealed
in this high-tech
low-battery life;
my fluid
coagulated
like the dust
in my mouth...
a mouth
that once
ranted
my dirge
for freedom.

There is no
universal will,
no will for a
universe
masturbated
from your last
test
-a
-ment:
a hieroglyphic-
painted
conch
standing
the test of time,
left to testify that
the micro-waved
third planet
will be left
disinherited.



Monday, December 7, 2015

Mimi-Mona Poetry: The Upbeat of His Bipolar Shift

Know Someone Singing That Song Just Another Manic Monday?
Is That Your Theme Song?
There are shift doctors who can help when someone suffers extreme shifts in moods: mania and depression. 




©Before The Upbeat of His Bipolar Shift
Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

It was always there, always.
The reality of it following the last beat,
the beat immediately preceding
that upbeat of you bipolar shift,
that feeling you long for; not
that downbeat of despair you dread.

She always imagined it
being like a foot in suspension—
on the rise but not quite there—
and the anxiousness you felt
unknowing whether it would descend
for another downbeat of despair
before reaching the longed for upbeat.

This is the worst time, right?
The timing of grayer skies and
shorter days when you find yourself
under the same influence as that great
statesman Churchill’s own black dog
the one still under controversy discussion,
the one many know as manic depression.

Just as so many before her, she never
understood why there were never displays
of affection, of love...of intimacy. What if
she finds out? What will she say? Will she
tell others? Will she?! Fear brings the downbeat
and the predator eats well for another day.

She watched you pace and pace and pace
and count, count everything. She
constantly asked if you wanted to sit.
Did she know you could not sleep—
for daysbecause there was so much
energy you knew you would explode?

It was always there, always.
The reality of it following the last beat,
the beat immediately preceding
that upbeat of you bipolar shift,
that feeling you long for; not
that downbeat of despair you dread.