Thursday, August 15, 2013

Sun-Touched Love

Lois Slove Losyk, Greensboro, NC

—Lois Slove Losyk

Twenty three thousand
seven hundred
and twenty five days

Seven thousand, three
hundred days

More or less

The forever horizon
is lifting its veil
only to reflect
the end in its eyes.

Too soon

Like a starved child,
I devour the golden
honey and nectar
of life in hope its sweet
contentment will fill my insatiable

Until the end of days.

(first pub. by Zombie Poetry online)


—Lois Slove Losyk

An ebony Adonis
shirtless, skin shimmering sweat
belts it out on stage.

A mirror on the wall reveals
a white sixty-year-old woman dancing.
A provocative twenty-year-old
stares back at her.

Johnny sings “Boney-Moany”
his “six pack” stomach
entices her to swing her hips
in time with his.
Like a wild tiger captured,
her pride now belongs
to Johnny.

She grinds in front
of him thinking:
Take me Johnny.
Make me Johnny.
Do me Johnny.
What I wouldn’t give
for one night
with you, Johnny.
I want to be twenty
not sixty,  Johnny.

He pushes his pelvis
close to her face.
Worked up to a frenzy,
she is crazy with lust.
While Johnny laughs
his boyfriend sits
in the back, sucks down
a beer, and laughs too.


—Lois Slove Losyk

A hot pink bra dances
in the breeze on a clothesline
over a balcony
sparking lewd images
in the minds of men
who fantasize about the lush
flesh soon to overflow
its cups.

When will Katerina
take it down?
Hope hops them up.
Bets are wagered.

She saunters out,
naked to the waist,
to retrieve the culprit.
Cat calls are tossed
up like fast balls.
Teasing and taunting,
Katerina hurls them back

Tonight young village women
will welcome the greedy
groping of their breasts.
Old women too will feel
hungry hands, while, under
their breath, they will curse
Katerina again.

 —Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

—Lois Slove Losyk

Step softly into my dream
Brush the mossy past
from my memory

Together we can bury
our bitterness deep
in the craggy underbelly
of forgotten hurt
We can travel unfettered
on the road to forgiveness

We can wrap ourselves around
each other once again and feel
the soft cashmere of our love
kiss us into contentment

We can float in a night-black
pool of sun-touched love
and never get wet

We can climb Alps
of ecstasy and never tire
In my dream
we can reach forever.

—Lois Slove Losyk

Breezes dance with palm fronds.
Relentless sunlight beats
green coconuts into ripeness.
A girl lectures her three little sisters
on something she knows
nothing about.
They sit and pretend to listen.
Lush green grass grazes
bare legs.
Giggles glide in the air.
The wind feeds them to
old people nearby, who
can barely hear.

Inside apartment 2,
unstoppable, and unaware,
vultures pick the skin off
the backbone of their dead
Soon there will be nothing
left but bones bared.

In the yard, their daughters
play in paradise
with the profound knowledge
that hell exists in apartment 2.


—Lois Slove Losyk

winter’s footfalls
march forward
their cadence
a metronome
ticking off time

fall pushes back
with an impotent

winter must have its way

over the horizon
gray calls to white

Come now

the scene is set
for this life’s
final encore


Today's LittleNip:

Only poetry captures us in the moment and soon reflects us forever.

—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA


—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors! Lois Slove Losyk of Greensboro, NC, found her joy in writing poetry when she retired. Occasionally she lets her dark side out to play with her fun side. Besides writing she tries to paint, and is a gourmet cook.  Her works have been published in Greensboro’s News & Record, Fire & Chocolate anthology, BeBe and Friends, Your Daily Poem, Fresh Magazine and others.

—Photo by Katy Brown