Bite

My dear madam

How dare you intrude upon my reputation

You infer that my Hollywood kiss needs work

You presume to know how well I kiss based simply upon observation

You accuse me of holding back

Of moral restraint

Well madam j'accuse

For I am known to be a good kisser

And I shall not simply press my mouth upon yours

Providing the politest of pecks

Or even a lengthy stray smooch

But instead I shall bite your lips

First a tender nibble 

Our mouths slightly ajar

Absorbing the scent of your dinner

Tasting hints of chocolate and wine

Fueling my ardor and madness

Your lips bleed from passionate mayhem as I plunder them 

And my tongue slithers past reaching for your throat

You shan't breathe except with gasps 

Then I shall retreat leaving you paralyzed with desire

Is this a true test 

Perhaps not

Because you are not an actor 

And this is not a mummer's play

I can do no less

Suffer the scene as it may

I shall render no Hollywood kisses upon your person

But shall save them for the imaginary world of thespians

©kcasady2014

Smile

A love letter to myself

I hunted for a long time

Looking for myself

Checking in all manner of places

Under beds…behind trees…in closets

Out in the open…at work…at play

Occasionally I spotted myself

Usually on the run

Moving fast

Making sure no one could catch me

One day

I halted and stared into a mirror

The instructions said to stop and smile

I did

An image grinned back

And the mouth spoke

A strange language fell across my ears

Down around to my toes and back up,

“You lovely thing!”

©kcasady2014

Rogue

Dear sir

My word...you own a voluminous collection

They leap from your bureau in multitudinous hordes

Joyous sycophants that prance about your bedroom

Often appearing with a wanton demeanor 

Peering out from under your staid trousers

Nestling comfortably in your Bruno Maglis

Pretenders laying in wait

Playing at a game of disguise

Colorful whispers that

Shout as you sit

Sputtering with great relish as

Surprise registers on bemused faces

Adding to your persona

Enhancing your mystery

Producing a small woven window into your heart

Your famous ankles garbed in a bit of wit

Robed in repartee

Melting inamoratas

Who cry out 

"We too have oodles of silly socks 

Our drawers overflow"

Their feet tingle with desire 

While you sir...

In your opulence...

Collect even more

©kcasady2014

Eternity

And Isaiah cries out

Warns the people

Dying brings only darkness

Stagnation and decay

Each wraith singular in the void

Detritus guillotined from humanity's vastness 

Denied even the opportunity to praise God

And Isaiah cries out

Enjoins the people

Sing

Dance and dream

Laugh and cry

Live then die

For about death

There are no answers

Only questions

©kcasady2014

Recitation

Dear sir...

You come to me only in my dreams

Never in the flesh

Like many I desire you

You dominate my thoughts

When no one else will do

Your baritone voice

With its flawless articulation

Creating clever phrasing and luscious inflection 

Allowing occasional voiceless blank spaces

Sacrosanct milliseconds of silence

The quintessential bard

You read the stories of children

Give life to letters of the dead

Each slight hand gesture

In perfect harmony with words

Tiptoed over lightly 

Your eyes close

Heavy with the brooding of love

Languishing for a poet's instant 

Opening again to regain the recitation's vision

While the blond oak podium melds with your body

As you become one with the story

And we forget your white tee shirt and maroon jeans

Imagining the tattered POW uniform and sunken face of the letter's writer

Sir...

As my muse

The obligation belongs to you

To breathe veracity into my letters

My poetry and my stories

The ones that encircle my soul

Grip my heart and complete my existence

That cleve so magically to you

Adhering to your persona

But alas sir...

You come to me only in my dreams

Never in the flesh

And I am no famous poet or writer

My words crossing your lips

Remain as illusive as touching the moon

©kcasady2014

Distraction

Good morning she said

Even though night had settled around them

Must have been quite a day he said

Yes it was she said

Walking past him

Down the long yellow hotel hall

Hazy with incandescent light

Fuzzy 

She began to wonder about a random frolic with the man

Not a terribly good looker she thought

Of the slightly frayed potbellied gentleman

But still he might do

Even just a cuddle

Two bodies pressing 

The warmth of another human

Settling in to a long satisfying hug

Getting lost in the sigh of relief

Something to get her mind away 

To distract her

Put her into a brief coma

Coat her thoughts with oil

Keep them from clinging together 

Ganging up on her

Beating her down

Kicking her in the belly

The death news that hit too close

That she needed to forget

Put aside

The call she wanted to deny

Pretend it never happened

She turned around 

Briefly seeking forbidden companionship

In the now empty dim dusky corridor 

©kcasady2014

Rumpled

Dear sir

You wear wrinkled rumpled clothing

Tattered tee shirts sporting silly slogans

Jeans a bit too baggy

Often your collar rides cockeyed

One side tamped down

The other attempting flight from a

Lackadaisical and haphazard jacket

You are rather casual

Yet you clean up quite well

But left to your own devices...

Perhaps sir you need a wife

Why are you wearing THAT shirt she'll say

But will you comply

Or will you heedlessly go on as you do

Your head too full of thought

To take note of your attire

Absentmindedly grabbing 

Your only clean shirt

Or the trousers at the top of the pile

Maybe taking a moment to consider the weather 

Alas sir

But perhaps to your advantage

Your tousled duds add immensely to your charm

And like a man with a puppy

Attract the very women from which to choose your absolute soul mate 

©kcasady2014