You are bird song
You bring colour to the sky.
You are the oceans driving force.
You are the moon’s silver glow.
You are a kiss of sun.
You are the diamonds perching on tips of leaves.
You are a smile.
YOU are a grain of
a drop of
you are a macrocosmic microcosmic expressionistic piece of
ALL THAT IS.
From Man to Woman Arna Baartz *2006
Beautiful and kind
heart open wide
Man is here
wants to be
loved we see…..to exist is all.
Making the rough
the phallic reaching, mother womb
fertile fields a sad man’s tomb.
A question soft and true;
See me? I see you. Please see me? I’m here too.
Out of hand,
far too grand and now we’ve lost the point.
A blood-tipped point,
the taste of salt,
a rusty thing no-ones fault.
Beautiful and gentle
a cry…..short and true;
See me? I see you.
Please see me,
I’m here too.
Fresh and cool it entered
then swayed and left,
or seemed to,
me and you,
in the sun.
But the heat that kissed the space just above my skin
told me the truth
I didn’t know until then.
Time entered and sighed and I listened so hard,
I pressed my ear against the
tight spot in my heart.
Feathers ruffled, a moment shuffled,
the breeze stung my eyes and made me cry (it didn’t mean to).
Breath filled me and called me and kissed me
on the inside.
Love shifted and swayed and seemed to say,
a word that only
the tight spot,
deep in my heart needed to hear.
succumbing to the insanity of Love.
Two weeks of yearning buzz,
flutter in the chest
while ivy struggles for clear path.
Two weeks of living,
incomplete, drenched existence
Meeting oneself on a muddy track,
holding back, not holding back.
A jungle of a life time when
eating an endless dessert of tinned plum,
I turn against this instructed combustion
and welcome clean and easy light,
a glow of love without the eternity.
Calm the drama
rest the finger picking
and wringing of old bells and hands.
Be still bee’s
you know your queen,
a string of life lived,
a little plant growing through
a brazen crack.
Two glorious weeks of crisp sheets
and windy nights
and peanut butter
and coffee and yellow dog and paint.
earth lives in wet caress
like polished drops of orange sun
that slide and mould the contours of my soul
you are a sculptor
my breasts are clay that cry and move,
your push and pull sucks me into being,
thumbs press and stretch like God and water flows in
open pores like moody tears and music to a pool of stone
a deep note inside a song
the touching is a thrill of song itself
you are a musician
melody comes thick and sweet like sugar in hot tea,
black tea, sprinkled on my body, crisp flakes
contrasting with the felt on which you rest your open palm
full grasp of flesh like biting into something rich and salty
a lick of wicked script
a tongue teaching me
the words, of wild and graceful tune
you are a poet
large earnest loops of love trace letters down and over me
holding me still, bending my will a lyrical freedom
heart beating like bubbles bursting
big thick molasses bubbles, bursting slowly, like punishment
a wash of soft paint,
a brush of colour in my belly
pleasure laquers the canvas with vibrant oils
you are a painter