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“‪BEWARE! JUDAS ISCARIOT WALKS AMONG US.‬” ― Genereux Philip Again you’re ready, all dress’d a log, hollow chrome, feather fill’d at this hour wrapp’d in pink, calm eludes you sleep will not take you. Soon your joints and springs will be complainin’ listen, hear whisperings at the ceilin’ as flat on your mattress my beau dwell oh, if you could, things seen n’ heard in this room tell! Would you…

Hearts, like doors, will ope with easeTo very, very little keys,And don’t forget that two of theseAre “I thank you” and “If you please.” Come when you’re called,Do what you’re bid,Close the door after you,Never be chid. Seldom “can’t,”Seldom “don’t;”Never “shan’t,”Never “won’t.” © Anonymous | Spilledwords | 2021

Is There Anything Sweeter?

Is there anything sweeter than these hours of love,when we’re together, and my heart races?For what is better than embracing and fondlingwhen you visit me, and we surrender to delights? If you reach to caress my thigh,I will offer you my breast also —it’s soft; it won’t jab you or thrust you away! Will you leave me because you’re hungry?Are you ruled by your belly?Will you leave me because you…

I walked through a county courthouse squareOn a park bench an old man was sitting thereI said, your old courthouse is kinda run downHe said, naw, it’ll do for our little townI said, your old flagpole has leaned a little bitAnd that’s a ragged old flag you got hanging on it He said, have a seat, and I sat downIs this the first time you’ve been to our little town?I said, I think it isHe said, I…

This poem was written in a dingy room at a sober hour, reflecting on his mother and her tragic death. The author – without a doubt was the most influential character of the twentieth century; more prominent than Lenin, Stain, or Mao Tse Tung, his fearful legacy disrupted so many lives, stirred so much hatred. For a man with a heart of stone (as many ascribe him), he had a spot for his mother whom…

I recall you told mewhen we talked over the air,you would come to see me like a VIP.At Nekede, I’ve with fanfarebeen planning what to show you:an umbrella tree, a bloom here,a crooked path there; yonder a groveclose to it a wellspring, on this side a slopeon that a stream glare.Indeed, madam, I know nothingso charming as this placewhere nature spread so richa mantle under the eyes,yet these…

IDear Irony, “Tell me, my goddess.”What numbers have you laid sway?Is it the Wise – who derides Folly?Or the ridiculed who derides his mocker –“In all his insight and contemplative devote he isa maverick proclaiming without any result his knowinglike a parched lost vagabond in Saharathe thirst for knowledge had led him to drinkfrom the desert spring of Gloom – souring his heartdistress thumps all…

Had there been no green in him one would not have thoughtHim to have been envenomed, but starting back from theDarting of this virid twister, one forgets at leastFor a moment that there is no question of his virulence here.His color is drawn from the grass in which he flickers,But washed as by the water colorist’s hand that hadDrawn the whole snake from nature. And it is for that –For the garment…

I am a Fading Light

A Poor Lil Ole Country Boy

Back from work, earlier than expected, in a faded cream-painted apartment, he dropped the car key on the table and stripped off his jacket. The air was stale and warm as he tugged off his tie retrieving a can of Heineken from the fridge. As he opened the dust-stained and cracking wooden door to their bedroom, a black gorgeous off-the-shoulder strap floor-sweeping velvet gown lay spread out on the…