Spring in The Southern Hemisphere

September rain graces Klimt’s garden

White, purple, yellow, pink, orange and red

This is not the time for writing poetry

nor painting in water or oil colours

This moment

is perfect for an orgasmic soak

in Spring’s afterglow

Publication – Dear Heart

Sharing my publisher Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld’s words on the launch of “Dear Heart” anthology. I used my real name “Jia-Li YANG” in this anthology because it means so much to me that every word came from the deepest part of my heart.

I still can’t get a copy yet because it’s out of stock (purchase in Australia from the American Amazon website). If you manage to get one please read it for me and leave an honest review. This will mean the world to me and my fellow writers. Thank you!

Get your copy today on Amazon

“Before computers, we wrote letters. My mother’s letters were like little novellas, several pages long. Her family members and friends loved to get her “books.” Letters from mom were heartfelt and brought tears of love. As her pen moved passionately across the pages, sometimes her clear, blue eyes would well up. Letters were her release. They were her way of expressing herself in ways she could not voice. Occasionally, she would write letters to people out of anger and then tear them up. These could have been to politicians, relatives, and those are the ones I knew about. She would express her heart’s desire, open up her soul, and pour out her thoughts.

While I did not have the beautiful penmanship of my mother, I learned that the pen was my power. Some of my letters were releases which I destroyed. At age 15, I even wrote one about the need for a doctor in our little town. The letter and story was published in the newspaper.

As a writer and a poet, I write as if my words are letters to the world, perhaps to express the desires of my heart. Other times I write to simply write.

When we do express our desires within our heart this has a way of stirring up thoughts and even action plans to make things happen. They could be acceptances of things that can’t be changed, but often are steps toward courage to make something happen.

I posed this question and requested to others: What is the desire in your heart? This is my challenge to you. I would like to read about the desires in your heart in the “Dear Heart” anthology of letters, poetry, art, photography, and whatever ways helps you express your passion.

There was a caveat to this. In honor of my mother, the expressions were to be sent to me via good old fashioned snail mail.

Now, it is my pleasure to bring to you these beautiful heartfelt responses via Dear Heart.

Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld

Contributirs: Alice Taylor, Chyrel J. Jackson, Danielle Martin, Jia-Li Yang, Jill Sharon Kimmelman, Jodi Lynn Nehring, Karen Monteith, Max H. Tomey, Nanci Arvizu, Pratibha Savani, Rebecca Herz, Richa Dinesh Sharma, Robin Klammer, Sarah Ryan, Shiela Denise Scott, Steve Anc, Terri Michels, and Zaneta Varnado Johns.

Special Shout out to Kay Doiron for the cover art and to Zan Johns for her wonderful editing skills.”

Reincarnation

If I believe in reincarnation
we will be taking a vacation
in two life times

You will make french toast
and honey lemon tea
for breakfast
to break the spell
of me leaving

I will probably try to read
while nursing a caffeine withdrawal headache

But all these don’t matter
cuz we will have a lifetime
to adjust
until you think
sharing a bubble gum
can be very romantic

Scribbly Gum

These are the traces

of our immature effort

before breaking free

into a new world

Retrograde

This is the 7th poem written with Bree Leto. It has always been a joy to write with Bree.

Inspiration erupted
when you crashed into my orbit
I should’ve been glowing
and we should’ve been shining
Instead
We are going backwards
and I am watching myself in retrograde
Shrinking into the dark spot
Tainting the silver moon

I wish
some strings were not pulled
some turns were not taken
I wish
the luminescence of your existence
was enough to light our path

Two hearts aligned
should have beat into
a new song of tomorrow
But as you shift forward
I drift backwards
alone

Once Was

I once was

someone’s love of my life

I once was

someone’s destiny

I once was

someone’s forever home

I once was

someone’s secret life

I once was

someone’s dull ache

I once was

someone’s lousy lover

I once was

real, imaginary or fictional

In the end

I was nothing to them

but a past tense

Less is More

You fill your fantasy

with me with a whip

in that discreet outfit

ready to pleasure you

Marks of excitement

are visible

all over your body

waiting to receive

No pain inflicted

No scream of delight

I stay on the screen

You soak in sweat and seed

Ripper

This is a collaboration with Stephen, thank you for writing with me. If you like reading a good thriller, check out his book Beneath the Surface.

Shadows lurk in dark alleys
Death walks a sturdy stride
No sense of guilt he carries
He feels no need to hide

Precious daughters went astray
Roaming White Chapel streets
Outcast in a city so rich
Devoid of mercy, as he seeks

Saying he wants company
Of a woman so fair
As he pulls out his knife
Into flesh he will tear

They say he’s but a ghost
Out to exact his revenge
The law does their utmost
The crimes never avenged

From Lovers to Passersby

They used to think

they would be forever

written into each other’s poetry

They used to say

they would express

happiness, sadness, fear, anger

in stanzas

But life took them

by surprise

In the end

they expressed disgust

towards each other

in prose