“Cherry Black Blood” by Kay Bess

Let’s outgrow our selves and be something bigger
Let’s forget them who ruined us, and be new and ripe and sweet
Let’s not go to a grave of their making
Let’s not let them win.

They cut from us our youth and beauty
But we know better, you and I
Though we crack and moan in winter’s rime
Our perennial Spring will soon become.

You’ll be my sun, and I’ll be your rain
We’ll soak up and stir and spill into each other
Climbing, reaching, blooming our way
To maybe, to somehow, to yes.

By the dogged and cherry black blood that teems through my veins
I swear I’ll never take your heart from you.
I will love you and the fruit of your future yet to be born on your steep stone hill
Not for what it might give me, but for what it’s given you –
Birthed in your dreams, formed by your hands –
Hope… promise… life.

Kay Besswww.sometimeslife.com

© 2008

“LA Times” by L. K. Thayer

there are times in LA

when I’ve wanted to leave it

leave the sun

for a bit of reality

but it’s got a hold on me

at times shaking

begging me to give it

one more chance

not to abandon the dreams

the promise

like a romance novel

or an obsession

you can’t let go of

you can’t put it down

you want to see

what happens

at the end

and find out

who gets

the girl

Photo by L. K. Thayer

© 2010

Juicy Quote

Photo by L. K. Thayer

Isn’t that the problem? That women have been swindled for centuries into substituting adornment for love, fashion (as it were) for passion? All the cosmetics names seemed obscenely obvious to me in their promises of sexual bliss. They were all firming or uplifting or invigorating. They made you tingle. Or glow. Or feel young. They were prepared with hormones or placentas or royal jelly. All the juice and joy missing in the lives of these women were to be supplied by the contents of jars and bottles. No wonder they would spend twenty dollars for an ounce of face makeup or thirty for a half-ounce of hormone cream. What price bliss? What price sexual ecstasy?

Erica Jong