Mimi - Mona Love Poetry: That Can Drive A Person Crazy

Love...

You can't be in love around other people or they will think you both are crazy, nuts, insane. 

Maybe you are.

©That Can Drive A Person Crazy

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

I wish you’d drive with the top down

so I can sit on top of the back seat

and wave to everyone.

Think about it;

they’d look at each other,

wave, then ask, “Who was that?”

I love you and that leads

my friends to think I might really be crazy.

Maybe they’re right;

maybe I am.

Loving you is midnight drives

with the top down

and dancing in the rain

and roasting marshmallows

and singing along with the radio

and kissing and laughing

in the shower

and holding hands on the bus

and pulling into the corn fields

for an outdoor quickie

and fighting when

the release valves are taut.

Some days they are —all day.

That can drive someone crazy.

Mimi-Mona Poetry: Would It Be Outrageous To Say—

True romance can be achieved even if, somehow, you're the only one who knows; you've just got to dance the dance even though the lie takes a lot less time, and the clean coming will hurt...especially when you're eating breakfast at the heartbreak hotel where there's dirt beneath the dirt. Where's your hiding place?

©Would It Be Outrageous To Say—

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

At the beer-ring stained bar

beneath the odoriferous,

cigarette-stained ceiling,

Lucinda Magenta’s broad ass

hugged and balanced on

the three-legged,

wooden bar stool,

her smoke rings wreathing

her head on their way up;

life was complicated.

Max Zwack, the twenty-something

high-school loser had

dropped out, started

his own band, and drunkenly

swigged from the only bottle of

one-hundred-forty-five-thousand-

dollar Macallan, 1946,

in existence; it’d make

his daddy proud...

life was complicated.

The gold rush was over

and it became everybody’s joke, so

saying it didn’t change the way

it was when your jig-saw girl

waltzed away leaving you watching

and realizing her love was

no longer in bloom, and your

ending didn’t sound like

the happiest around; admit it—

life was complicated.

Never look up and never

look ‘em in the eyes

was the only sober

piece of advice from

the voice in your head,

and you knew how long

you’d been waiting and

what you had been through

while you were high on life,

life was complicated.

Mimi-Mona Poetry: Don't

For love to become something great, you have to be willing to commit to what it takes to make it great, and that means opening up your heart to someone to love and not allowing fear to keep you from committing to the journey.

©Don’t

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

Don’t look up;

you don’t want to see

those tall buildings

scraping the sky

Don’t be sad

because the sky’s blue;

I’ll be your sunny smile

Please don’t you cry

and make it rain

unless you want

our love to grow

Don’t get lost in me;

it’s too much

like being found

Don’t tear down

my secret walls

with your strong hands;

it will set my love free

Don’t let our fireworks

be over; just know

you are safe with me

Don’t quell your desire

for me unless you want

to try to forget

how tumultuous

our love truly is;

can you? I can’t

Don’t look down;

you don’t want to see

all the sadness

we have buried

Mimi-Mona Poetry: Silent Sunday at Dawn

Sometimes I get dreamy and love thoughts increase. Sometimes I write the poems you read here. Sometimes the poems write themselves. Or, maybe the words come from the dreams I have in that space of time when I first come to conscious thinking but before my eyes open. The following poem wrote itself; then again, maybe it was from the luscious dream I had this morning.

©Silent Sunday at Dawn

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

Stars that surfeited the sky

lose their brilliance

when the sun peeks

over the desert’s horizon.

A warm breeze whispers

through the Piru Queen palms

outside my chamber’s glass

and it’s like my lover’s breath

that teases the fine hairs

at my nape when his head

bows to kiss my bare shoulders.

Mimi-Mona Poetry: You

©You

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

The way your open shirt blew

up against my bared breasts

hinted a breeze was present.

Or, did the blue denim cling?

Shelves of books held hands

with the table placed

prominently before the

open window, the flapping sheers.

Was it hot that afternoon

in my bedroom decorated

with discarded clothing?

Covers shoved to the floor

at the end of the bed

and our sweat-glistening,

sated bodies sharing moans

would lead one to believe so.

Your body under mine,

I stared down into your eyes

as if peering into a well

or a pool searching

beyond my own reflection

for something else,

something my outstretched

arm sought— you.

Mimi-Mona Love Poetry: What Are You Doing?

©WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

MORE OF THE DANCE
WITHIN THE DANCE?
ARE WE ALWAYS

GOING TO MEET ON THIS STAGE?
WILL WE EVER

TAKE OFF THESE COSTUMES?

YOUR SILENCE TOUCHES ME

IN WAYS THAT SEEM

NONSENSICAL

YET IT MAKES SENSE, TOO.

STILL, HERE I AM

WITH ALL MY WORDS

THAT FLOW LIKE WATER

FROM WINTER'S THAWING STREAM

AND I WONDER IF

YOU EVER THINK

SILENCE SHOULD TAKE BOTH,

YOU AND YOUR WORDS.

PLANES JETISON OVERHEAD,

THEIR CHEMTRAILS

A VISIBLE WARNING;

BUT SOME LOOK WITHOUT SEEING.

WILL WE EVER MEET

ANYONE WHO IS CENTERED?

YOU AND I ALWAYS KNOW

WHEN WE DO;
WE ALWAYS FEEL

A KIND OF CALM
EMANATING AND
RETURNING.

SOMETIMES I MIND

THAT STILLNESS FROM YOU;

TEACH ME. I WANT TO DANCE

THAT DANCE WITHIN THE DANCE

WITH YOU FOREVER,

WITHOUT OUR COSTUMES,

WITHOUT A SOUND.

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

Mimi-Mona Poetry of Love: Premonitory Song

It was me echoing your looks —

look at her, oh wait, look at her,

and look at her, wow...her.

Don’t make me a reflection of yesterday,

gazing into eyes of royalty;

I'm a shining jewel,

one never to be kept,

one loving those heavy breaths 

at my neck, especially

in the middle of the night.

Ignore the clay and

other sculptors will

raise both hands 

to claim and mold.

Turn a half-painted canvas

to the wall

and several artists will

pick up their paints and brushes.

Stop polishing this star

and another master will

embrace the warmth willingly.

©Premonitory Song

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

(abstract: Lovers, by Marlina Vera)

Mimi-Mona Poetry

© I Forget how to breathe, especially when

your tongue shoves love down my throat

I gag because I can only write L-O-V-E

across your heart with permanent marker

 

by Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

© I Fell

hard

and I'm drowning —

just because

you fill a hole

with crap

doesn't mean

it wasn't there once

by Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

© Not Enough

to know

I prefer Earl Grey

when picking

up the shattered,

splattered,

shredded mess

called my heart

from your first 

knowing stare

by Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved