molecular surprise

how he feels calm seas
air smooth flows
i must glow a thousand
sunsets. we unwrap
delightful moment's
treats, skin to skin.
and to think, chemistry
was never my favorite
subject.  we mix, nicely.
our aura, warmly waifs
a circumference, the rain,
held back, winter,
delayed, until the fire
sufficiently roars.

~SHB

A Fruity Haiku

love me as a lemon
squeeze me tenderly sugar me up slow
and I will refresh you

SH Burum

Without Regret

Walk softly, regret - walk past me,
don’t stop here, regret - nothing to see.
Move on sadness - I am not that strong,
I haven’t the strength, to take you along.

My journey, on this path, laid with thorns,
prompted me, to take a bull by the horns!
I looked at him, straight in the eye,
and demanded, he, “carry me - or die!”

He is a fickle creature - you dare not follow,
if you get too close - he will gore you hollow.
Me, he has accepted, as his burden to carry,
add one bit more, and things could get scary.

Surely, you don’t expect me, to give a f-‘eck -
with my arms, so precariously, around this bull’s neck?


 ~Sabrina Burum

Friday: The 13th

The little blackbird. Was lame. It's left foot,
mangled. It hopped, and seemed
to flit around, just fine.

I wondered if to perch, on a telephone
wire, perhaps, is a problem?
If I were alone, I would talk to him,
offer him crumbs,
try to get him on my finger.
Possibly, take him home,
and put him in a huge
cage to keep him safe,

but,
there is a handsome man
across from me, with a brain, and
arms. I'd prefer to take him home.

I ignore the bird.

I don't remember
mentioning
I melt,
under blue eyes.

Build An Ark

So, I followed Him
off of the beaten path;
the way, I thought,
He had gone. The branches

were thick; mosses, webs
hung, stretched, limb
to limb. Roots reared
up, rays of sunlight

stolen; dirt pushed aside.

I forgot my shoes. When I bleed,
anger flows, disgust.

I would have drowned all mankind, too.

Weary

weariness escaped from its cage,
dripped through the bars,
unable to hold itself in.
the men noticed not,
it stuck to their shoes, and
spread itself throughout
the earth.  we women,
got out the brooms -
before we realized,
we were too weary to fly.

Elderly Babies

They become, again, like children,

big children -
with breakable bones.

They refuse help, insist they will walk,
all by themselves,
for as long as they can.

They do not understand,
the only thing between them,
and the hospital, or worse,
is one false move.

They wobble.
We cringe when they nearly
fall.
Offer your hand, or your arm, or a walker,
and they scowl.

"I can do this by myself!"
They proclaim.

The difference?
The little ones will nearly always get back up.

One At A Time! Please!

Why do they always,
come in two's?

Why am I always,
forced,
to choose?

These are men,
damnit,
not shoes!

The Linear Zone

There was this rift, formed many moons ago,
between those who sat quietly, and those
who ran the show. I wasn't there, though,

the story was passed to me, by my grandfather
who continued to take it further,
this, fighting with one's brother.

Each generation, more angry than the last,
the generations gone by fast,
'till nothing was left, but the past.

Flutter Free

We must believe strong
together
we can do this one
step a day - today
rise up as a butterfly
survives near death,
mummy wrapped, silk
left behind, not a clue
as to its origins.