So You Like Me Huh?
It was not that I loved her
I loved that she loved me;
it was a guilty feeling;
something like a drug;
I enjoyed the attention
reassured that my true love
would come along some day
and her attraction to me was the gentle light
which would make me visible enough
for future love to see me in the dimly lit future.
It was not fair to her and I told her one day.
'You make me feel special and I like that'
I said 'but I also feel guilty because in feeling
this way I feel I am cheating you
of the love you deserve.'
'I know' she said
'You know? ' I said
'Sure, it makes me feel good that
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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My First
She:
I freeze Time this night
in making love to you
your mouth has within it forever-ness:
you've restored to me my mental virginity
in this my love-making with you
releasing those sexual bonds
which wrap around existence itself
making time cease
making my woman-hood feel complete
me taking your man-hood
making it meld
with my woman-side
He:
I feel you shudder
wrapping your heart
around me
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Stretching
I can stretch my heart
like taffy dough
and try to reach yours by extension.
but will have in the stretching it will become
super paper thin.
I can expand my mind to understand
how your mind works
but such expansion too soon becomes balloon-like
and airy-fairy.
I can take my empathy and and stroke it all night
but it shall not by alchemy transmorgrify and become
Love's Gold.
All these things I can do but none will suffice
to make my wishing true or take hold.
I could take this taffy heart
and wind it round
tight upon itself
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Mechanical Woman
She unscrewed herself from the bed and plugged into the energy socket feeling the warm flow of electrons as her eyes focused; as she heard the whir of the appliances all around her beginning to stir.
She took her leg, inspected it, and carefully placed it with her modular clamp, seating it carefully to test it. It was new, plasti-form and still had the charge to it from its titanium surface. There was a small crackle as she activated it with a single nerve transmission from her cerebellum. It rotated slightly, felt good and she moved it laterally, preparing to dismount from her sleeping slab, onto the tile floor.
Her right leg she lifted lofting it slightly placing it along side her new left one and tested both by gingerly standing up all the while adjusting her gyroscopes.
Her level tested perpendicular and the signal landed in her brain with a satisfying click.
There was no question about it. Her ingrams had been successfully implanted. The question was, if this would fool her 'husband.'
To be continued
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Bump
First eye
in the full mirror
silhouetted
turning slowing
she lets
the view
of herself
breath in.
Then rotation
left
and right again;
skirt pushed against
her belly
no longer slight
but now a half-crescent
baby bump.
It breathed;
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Holiday Streamers
The holiday
is a slow strip;
each piece
glittering;
falling away
to reveal
naked relationships
beneath
our
tantalizing
onion pealing tears
dropping here upon
the table-
turkey and ham laden
swirling holiday music all around.
I love the music;
the solemnity;
the realizations
that we are all here again;
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Whose Dream Is This Anyway?
Every day I walk the plank of this pirate ship
and hear voices saying
'Just keep going, take the risk.'
Risk? There is no risk on ships
with planks out over the sea.
What you have there is death and certainty.
'Other voices say, 'What are you doing?
Come back off that plank! '
I say 'Sure.
If I do, the pirates will simply
take their swords and run me through;
saber-death or drown in the sea
look to be the choices for me.
except:
I could get to the edge of the plank
open my wings and soar
leaving them all behind in astonishment.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Time Is Missing
Time turned missing last week;
not suspended-
disappeared and gone.
It is clear
it will not be returning,
because there was a note.
'I have been with you
for your
First Eternity
and now
I must leave.'
it said.
The mourners tried to gather
but could not agree upon a time.
Fate, History, Judges
all sat on the side of the road weeping.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Happy Fraud-Bernadette's View
Happiness is a fraud-
the carrot at the end of my stick-
an illusion
meant to taunt me,
to persuade me,
to pursue
to beg
to plead
to make me endure what I shouldn't-
to humiliate me;
and I ask you
what is the content of this happiness anyway?
Is it true love?
Money and dollar bills lined up,
world peace,
change
staying the same
and never having to confront
anything I don't like?
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Frozen Bullet Eyes
You shot me with those frozen bullet eyes
which at first ice-berged the center of my soul
but I didn't die.
can't be killed by a dead man.
The swipe of that ice crystal hand
was dismissively lodged
in my breathing space
and I cried;
but real tears don't fall for the already deceased
feeling wise.
I stood full on
in Massive Regret
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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