Mr. Alligator and the Swamp Bunny

Whether curled in a nest of
Twigs, fur and moss
Or sliced raw by marsh grasses,
Sometimes Blood stains,
We do not fear sinking
In the Muck we evolved
To thrive in macabre
Creation and in decay.

“Mr. Alligator, the kindest of us posses the depth
To be the most cruel.”
“Dear Swamp Bunny, we are gentle because we have been
Hurt the most. We crave to be that which
We were denied but our
Pain lashes out hot and fast
From time to time.”
And cruel we are.
Merciless as angelic
Show your wings sweet
Child they are fresh but
you must use the damn things
Don’t fear showing your
Spotless capacity to love
Pure and violent

Today you emerge from the Muck
Printemps, I am Molting my
Winter coat
We are ravenous
Shaking for food
Quiver for touch, for warmth
Praying for a peek of sunlight
Cold in the bone of
Haunted cypress chilled and
Bald, new born held
In raw hands

We have faith that Heron and Spoonbill
Part the Thunder
Raise the sun
Warm days to come

Why yes I am warm blooded, yet
Delicate and not afraid to
dirty my snow white fur
“You need a little help
Keeping warm yes?” Yet
Your big teeth do not scare me
Your deadly tail falls with a thud
More than a reptilian mind,

I see quiet in you
Softness is your pheromone
Draws me back to you
Taste Blue Iris when we kiss
When you whisper in my sharp ears:
“You’re a tough little Bunny.”

Safe to close my eyes under the Stars
Cicadas hush our worries I could
Place my paws into your steaming jaws
Courage the Lion
The tamer, the Savior
I believed my prayers went
Unheard but I found you caught
Every word every
Twitch of my lashes each
Tap of my feet you watch, you remember
By moonlight you watched me sleeping

“I am more scary than you will ever understand, Alligator”
“But I am more afraid than you know, little Swamp Bunny. You are only scary in your mind and I am not afraid of you.”
I said, “I watched over you all winter,
Counted soft bubbles through molasses,
Where now the lily’s feed.
You breathed sleepy and dreamed of me.
And I hopped around the Neighborhood
For the last few seeds and final twigs
Little teeth could gnaw
To share with our friends
I knew you would return you to me
You slit your eyes open your scales
Stop pretending you don’t care!”

Push my paws against your cheek.
“Look me in the eye!” and he said,
“I pray to god one day I will cry.”

“I dare you to push the limits of
What you thought your heart could take.”
And he said, “I dare to you push the boundary
Of how deeply you thought you could let go.”

July 2019

Sweet Fear Aquarius

A softer desire. Sweeter,
quieter affection. You move slow,
make sure I enjoy you.
Can we be little creatures together?
I’d like to burrow into you, into soft Earth,
Can we make love tonight?
Like the Wind,
You want to see so much, cannot
Sit still, I must respect
Your nature, my lover I can only
Pray that you choose to stay

You are the Wind
Also the steady Breath
Come home to the body
Bringer of seasons Messenger of
Tidings of Summer heatwaves you
Howl through my bones Love
You hurl sand grains in the
Eyes of distant armies you
Blow the Sea from shore to shore
Your waves
Overpower my body and
I let you caress me on the porch by the Sea.

You are always here
Come home to my body Deep
Belly, throat, mouth and lips
Fill me to my lungs and nose
Make me wonder if
I will survive the pleasure of your fingertips
Assault of my lips, tangle my hair
I want you. There is your
Voice from California I heard
You’re still singing. Alone or
In a crowd I don’t care just
Keep fucking singing
Fuck till we’re gasping
Fight till we’re screaming
Keep sending me paper letters
Crisp leaves falling slow carried
In your palms across Mountains across
Prairie. Home to New Orleans.

We’re not so far away,
Really
I can still hear you singing.

Feel your chest rise and fall, my sweetest Aquarius if you can’t tell me, please whisper in my ear. I will pause the turn of the Earth to create quiet enough to hear you. I will breathe over your chest, kiss your lean stomach, I will put goosebumps down your spine.

Caus your voice is the one I want to hear right now. Yours alone. Ours together I’d bet we will make music, we’ll make Magic.

& if it makes you happy maybe I will float with you, steadiness as we pause here and there to plant seeds and

Running again we are panting, we are
Always laughing we
Make love we are gasping and
Fingers dig into each other hold on
For dear life I fucking promise I won’t let you
Blow away
& you finally held on
You returned to your body
We sighed together
Ragged and Terrified
Stop Running
Catch your breath
Please come home

I’d part the Red Sea if I could find a way into your heart
Navigate the Mountains between us
Not the hurricane, not the tornado
Will be a reason anymore find the
True reason for running off
Stop pushing me away
Breathe in, let go
Come home.

July 2019

Sola and I Revel in Our Power Over Men and in the End We Choose Each Other.

Last weekend I found myself
In the lap of a beautiful woman
Warm and high we
Float serenely on a
Large pool toy of Nesse,
Amongst the Nerd Babes
Wild party @The Drifter Hotel,
A popular alternative nightlife venue it is
Almost Summer Solstice
In New Orleans, Louisiana

Neon lights slide across our
Dewy skin, rainbow beach balls
Deflating aliens float by,
Fellow revelers lounge
Sip cocktails and daqueries as
90s pop vibrates our bones. Feet
Lull in the warm and lightly salted water.

The beautiful woman beneath me keeps me warm.
I feel her skin, she is
Topless she is my Best Friend
We gaze directly up to the cloudy sky,
Midnight pollution the city makes it
Difficult to see many stars
Yet here I am, with you
Looking anyway

She took me out tonight she got me high bought me a soda helped me eat a falafel gyro she lent me a swimsuit and listened to me spill darkness from my chest and into the void of the sky that we stared deep into on this night, we glimpsed from the edge of the cliff we saw our reflection in distant nebulae in the eyes of god we were no longer mad at each other because we made it out alive. We know our love is greater than the pain this world can provide.

I love her

The crowd follows our every move. All eyes
Desire to see us kiss. All men
Imagine touching our bodies.

Sola, all curves, perfect
Hourglass figure, olive skin,
Giggling over a cute guy that told her
He thinks curvy girls are sexier. She is
Charming, dirty blonde hair, vivacious
Boundless Joy and a love that Gives as much
As fears and I,
Waist length dirty blonde hair to match
Pulled half up in space buns memory of
Magical Girl. Black roses, holographic
Pentagrams, and a Lavender rosary which
I nibble on to take selfies and
Wonder how offended or aroused he would be
To see his Crush half nude with
His Savior in her pouty lips.

We strut past the pool to
Get drinks and All Eyes are on us
We know how beautiful
We are Lillith
Tempting prophets to connect
Holy Pleasure to their Sin

Tonight, Sola takes care of me,
Accepts the Mother Role with
One hit of her bong
Found myself
Too high, needing her help,
Forced,
To accept her help

Perhaps, in truth
An excuse to accept help a
Tangible reason a valid reason to Need

Often I Need help
Physically Eating
When high, food cannot travel
From table to mouth my
Quiet hands forget that journey
Lose their way in between
Maybe I can ask to be fed I can
Ask for someone to notice
How I struggle how my tired
Hands get lost.
Pray for Rain.

Healing us both,
Role reversal for just one night
With a kindness that brought me close to
Tears, she taught me how to
Light the household bong with
A patience I struggle to trust
I knew I had permission to take my time to
Make mistakes. I knew she cared.

Sola: the nurturer, the patient teacher, the mother
Holding space for, forcing me to receive.

Please, never leave me
I will love this woman till the day I die


June 2019

Girls, Bodies, & Magic

Soft, pink & warm thing,
Palm of my left hand you lie
Sleeping you dream of dancing maybe
One day crying.

He is nearby.
Never sure if
He is watching,
So continue performing.
Carry on your
Prancing.
Let him close when he approaches.
It’s okay to look away when
He can’t see.

Disgust & self-loathing,
Feed your daughter before
She knows better.
Before she knows
She’s stronger.
Feed her poison when she laughs
Too loud. Shine her windows when she
Scrapes her knee playing ball.

Put a needle in her palm.
Buy her a shiny fish to stare at.

Teach her to slit her
Tongue
& Lick
Bruises, to keep cumming,
Flipping pages, avoiding
Rages.

It won’t be long till she understands her opinion is only valuable for marketing.

She’ll teach herself how to starve, don’t worry about that.
She’s okay, really, she’s okay. It’s not a problem because she
Keeps
Saying
She’s Okay.

And mind your damn business.

He had visions of you taking over this world and he was terrified, you shook him to his core. He knew, he saw your fire, he saw you dancing in red skirts, heard you singing wild, he understood the threat of your joy, the sharpness of your mind, the power of your body, the magic in your words,

He saw you as a weapon

& He made you believe that for many many years.

As you were born he feared you were a witch yet
Here you are a Sorceress
You are yet a queen
Embody
Goddess recognize yourself in the mirror
Honor her in each of your sisters
Don’t stop gazing
You will see

———————
Photograph at top is by: Aries Photography, find her on Instagram @ariesphotographynola
Modeling is by me: Mag

Scary Bunny

Scary bunny
I am an angry bunny, foot
Stomping, ears
Twitching, brows furrowed, shine
In my pink eyes.
I defend my rabbit friends to the
Death with sharp teeth and strong
Curved claws digging, digging

How far
To China?

My home is in the soil
Cool & soft & deep

Packed tight all summer with rough paws
These round halls contain those I love
Home is curled in a dry
Nest
With you

Yellow feathers, fur of wolf, fauns’ eyelashes

Lull to sleep
I built this paradise myself
Dug all the way and hopped the Great Wall
Looked the hawks in the eye as they swooped
Down for my neighbor’s babies
Still pink, eyes yet to open
And I looked away after I

Gnawed off their wings, as struggle made way to a helpless release, as
They gave up the fight. I watched the gleam fade from their deadly eyes.

Of all I was able
The one I loved the most I could not save

My whiskers quiver,
Spider webs, sticking and so sheer they’re invisible but you feel them nagging on
A scratch, a pain you will search for decades

Warriors do not feel fear at all

Describe the boundaries of what makes you feel safe
How will you sleep, knowing your babies rest
Sweetly with small breaths and fluttering noses
Glow-in-the dark moons and stars

I will protect you

I’ll see you play in the sunshine tomorrow morning
Holding hands, sipping dew drops from sunflowers
Blushing with yellow pollen on your white cheeks
Nectar when you kiss me
Read you a little book tonight
Fluff your daffodil tail
Paint black lines on your eyes
Gather twigs
Well water from a mossy pail
Open your hutch tonight, okay?
Gloves over chicken wire, I’ll be there by midnight
String over throat

Did you know warriors feel no fear?

—————–

Girls In Trees

I climb in trees
fate is thin branches
hold a girl’s weight
toll of a bell
sway in the turn of seasons
cling to the metronome
wonder just how far over these old houses can I see
how far
              can this branch bend
              take me towards the earth and
              back into space again
              spring me in and out of reality
life exists between sky and earth
life within girl in leaves and roots
in soil
death exists.

Doesn’t know doesn’t
care where she will rest

She
              Swings.  Allows fate to
              toss dice.  Lets the wind
              make up its own mind. 
              Sails or no sails.
Swings
Climbs trees
Scrapes on
              Forearms
                             Thighs
Thick bark in hands
rough
feel my skin

Just as I am

See me as the girl in trees

Now in trees
equidistant
she is the connection of heaven and earth

I place a crown upon my head
goddess of in-between
              connection
              meeting point
              electricity
              communication
              alliance

Sacred heaven
mother earth
I hold you to my
              cherished chest

Sacred body
Magdalena’s earthly presence
carried in silks across
continents
shared in a hush, in a cry, in a joyous song
in the net in leaves
catch the sun
hold tight my moon
crown glints night and day
water, dark star dust
floats through
the fabric

I am on earth.

Held in comfort
my arms bear, rejoice, uplift, empower

I stand firm
feet in soil
Hair wild and tangled in the wind

I hold in my heart
the girls in trees

—————
(Written Summer 2018)

Invite to the Viking Camp

Chelsea says she’s invited to the Viking Camp of Stone Wolf Coven, says they told her to stop by if she heard drumming in the night, and I can come if I walk with her by her tent first to drop off her swimsuit and pick up her smores supplies to share at the Stone Wolf Fire.

            Terror is equal to a molten curiosity in me.  A cloudy night, darker than you’d ever walk back in the city, dark as entering a great sea. A post ritual exhaustion thick in the air, but radiating and smoldering coals burn on a few more hours into the night. Chelsea, the lamb in the darkness, her small lamp spilling across faded grass as she leads us on.

I’d loved her as soon as I saw her, felt her rush and she is so much like Sola I can’t hide the magnetic pull. We’d met just the night before at Gryhpon’s Nest Camp in Springfield, Louisiana, not far from my home in New Orleans. My fourth stay at this private campground, with my Pagan community for the sacred holiday Imbolc which doubles as my birthday and I now have 30 years.

            All the way to the back of the property she leads me, brave and focus ahead, says we need to look for the big tires: the true entrance to the camp.  Bare feet find twigs and we navigate through partially trodden bushes and briars that have been gently parted over and over again and lull loosely back into place. 

            Low murmer of voices in the near distance.  Chelsea turns off her small light and slows her steps.  A warm light illuminates her brassy blonde hair and our bare feet are grateful to find a straw softer than I knew existed, covering the large area in a thick blanket, freshly placed down as a soft and clean carpet. 

            Chelsea holds a last weakened vine open like a curtain for me, as the low murmers fall to a sudden halt and we are left with the songs of crickets and we know we are being watched, they know we are here. 

            My fear grows to an almost unbearable pressure but it is too late to turn back, we see their figures, pale faces offset with dark hair and dark clothing.  They circle tightly around a large cooking fire, wooden shields and bright flags hung from the makeshift walls.  A maze of temporary buildings fill a large dip in the field that is Gryphon’s nest, they stay close to the Cypress Swamp that circles us. In a collective trance they gaze deeply into the fire, ritual plants wearing off and a welcome back to ordinary reality.  Women in chairs with young men on the straw floor, leaning back into the women’s laps. 

   Animalistic terror but I cannot turn back and Chelsea is with me,
she would not hesitate to step through the fires of hell for a lunch with Hades. Tired Viking men maintain a loose grip on their handmade axes, carved with protection sigils.

            The Viking king stands to give us a booming welcome with an order to make ourselves at home.  Warm, and fetching us his personally aged burnt honey mead, served in a bison horn and passed around.  The men shuffle their seats to offer us the best spot by the fire, passing us apple wine and a pipe.  The young Vikings pick up their conversation, lightly teasing and joking with each other.  Chelsea insists I tell of the 2 dreams I had the night prior, as they are a popular tale circling Gryphon’s Nest this Imbolc holiday.  I flush at the attention but speak as they watch me.  Smiling, they poke fun at my eels and we laugh together.

            When Chelsea’s marshmallows emerge, a man is commanded to fetch us roasting sticks, which turn out to more resemble harpoons, and the soft candy looks comically small, stabbed and perched above the flame.  The king declares his boar brought out, and a large shank, hooves and hair and all is placed on the fire and he sits back, satisfied.  He speaks with me for a long while as his wife dozes next to him and sweet young men shyly meet my eyes from across the heart of the fire.