Fertile Earth

Plant me a garden, love
As beautiful as it is useful
Cabbage next to my appendix
Peonies in my chest
A throat full of motherwort and roses
Take the bowl of my pelvis
Wide and empty as a mother
Make it a planter
Spilling ivy over my iliac crests
You will be the tender
This secret blooming at your hands
Braid the vines in my tangled hair
As you promise me your book
My soil is ready
My ribcage on hinges
Ready to open wide
And let your hands find earth


Other life

There is a house somewhere
In some other life
Porcelain sinks filled with herbs
Bougainvillea blooms hanging from the rafters
Patchouli in my hair
Jasmine petals fall from my breasts when i undress
Hands rough from twine
Softened again with oil
And kisses at the roots of my fingernails
You come in carrying baskets of bounty
From twin pear trees behind the clothesline
And old books to read to me
Windows face the moonlight
Old cherry desks
Where you memorialize the smell of my skin
And the twinkling, acoustic flame of my soul
Sheets upon sheets
Of both parchment and linen
Yours, mine, ours.


Put your hands under my thigh,

You from the Eastern Peoples,
Come with the Shepherdess you call Rachel and water your sheep,

Sooth your bitter cry, Esau
You who sold your birthright for a bowl of stew,

You are not about to die,

The West’s intention is blacker than your own deceit, come
Mind not the bully with the swastikas painted on his back,

Mind not his girlfriend with the crooked teeth, fear
Not the politician with his fat briefcase,

Eat now you handsome man!
Your whole body like a hairy garment!

The smell of you is like the smell of a field,
So eat now,

Before the Policeman in Arkansas shoots you down.

Said the joker to the theif


Don’t make fun of the flower arranger, Ikebana
Is self – discipline, a

Nip here, a
Snip there, and

With fullness of time, and
Passage through life,

Done with the flash of a scissor;

Bone handles,

Scissor flash snip, all gone
Extra weight, things un-needed, flash

If you stop to think about it,

You will frighten yourself cold,
Frosty, frigid, cold lock-down, too afraid

To make a wrong move, stop –

Don’t laugh at the flower arranger, Ikebana
Is worth learning;

Moving through life with less.

Photo – CCM Advertising

-short evocative poetry-

And the land had rest from war



My Gardener is enthusiastic.

He kills all the weeds in my garden,
Sweating conviction,

In purple droplets,
Muscles wet,

In the midday sun, he
Slaughters them,

My perfect weeds I spent so long cultivating,

And whites ones,
Jewish and Muslim,


Now the name of Hebron formerly was Kiriath-arba.
(Arba  was the greatest man among the Anakim.)
And the land had rest from war, 

But –

My gardener has turned into a terrorist, and
My weeds are no longer safe.

-Joshua 14:15-

gay israel muslim christian terrorism

Photo – Gay Israel on Pininterest

-short evocative poetry-


Gentleness is a fertilizer, a

Swaying wheat,
Balanced corn,

In a field,
Caressed by rain, it is

To yourself,

Ploughing, when the harrow is ready,
And sweating,


Glistening off chests, is
The masculine scent of forgiveness,

The feminine of,
Breaking ground,

Gentleman or Boer, order

In the house,

Give in.

*Photo – personal*

-short evocative poetry-


And I’ll be dust to dust bound to,

Shifting black wicker furniture just so,
Patrons aren’t disturbed,

By the rain between,
The hair-do and the pedicure, separated

At least,

By three floors if the lifts are working, me I’m just
Splashing mops against mauve tile, they

Flashing manicured smiles, we

Electing marvelous politicians in fashionable leather,

Leather of the season, bound

To let us down in Range-Rovers, bound
To coffee machines spitting frappuccinos, just

Hoping for a tip to pay my damn school fees.

Photo: ♦Psychology Today ♦

-short evocative poetry-