John Lemanski

CHAISE

Lounge down
And sing
Be-bop and don’t
Stop to
Strike out
Or arrest my hands, just
Flow 
From the soul
And know
I won’t interrupt or 
Abruptly steal
Your space, won’t
Complicate or
Shut down
Your vibe.
I’m digging you
Like that old school soul
When you
Just let me
Touch,
Yeah, and sometimes
Taste,
All with grace,
No pressure,
No space
That isn’t sweet.
I could lie
Here all night
Right alongside you,
If you’d just
Let me know
I can love
You
Without disgrace,
Keep that hell of a
Smile on
Your unaffected face.
Flying right
Here, 
Late night,
With souls down,
It could happen now,
On this
Brown, leather
Chaise.

SEA STONES

I will retire to a place where
No one knows my name.
I’ll find wide beaches of rock and sand to warm my feet,
Abandoning this blanket of flame I’ve sewn from rage.
The disappointment that has hardened within me
Won’t cripple me, but will give me
Solidity and hold me upright,
Allowing me safe passage across the stones
The sea has tempered with her own muted anger.

Those I do meet will see the wisdom in my eyes
When they catch them,
For my eyes will be elusive and quick,
Searching rapidly for the elements that eluded me
In the colorless past.
My hands will be even quicker,
Gathering those successes like shells
To wear around my neck,
Feeling their calmness dance across my heart.

I hope to find you there.

I want to kiss your face like the sun does
Each day,
And stir your soul like
The wind rattles the trees.

JIM BEAM

“Where you at?” he says.
“I’m right here”, she says.
“Right where?” he says.
“Here”, she says.

She tastes his tongue.
Bitterness of bourbon,
Sweetness of chocolate.

“This is love”, she thinks.
(Thinks, but won’t say.)

SUGAR FOX

Across a late night’s pavement
Go paws of silver,
Almost crystalline,
With jeweled claws and dogged purpose.

Citrine eyes mirror my headlights,
And for a moment we are caught
In a visual embrace,

Both of us pressing forward under uncertainty
But driven to an unnamed end;
Neither wanting to play the role of predator
Or conqueror, both

Wanting nothing more than the comfort
Of warm shelter, a den adorned by
The purring nuzzling of a lover.

Purpose and passion propel us headlong
Into a night deeper than reason,
Forcing us to wrestle with every conceivable
What-if and therefore.

For a moment we are simply two beings,
One on four paws,
The other on four wheels
With heated seats,

Crossing paths with a brief nod to the other,
An acknowledgment that nothing will truly satisfy,
Knowing inherently that each victory
Brings only another search,

That each step outward,
Each eager success, and each return homeward,
Provides a promise of little more than
Another day’s dissolution.

A circadian rush of sugar, destined to
Melt in the mists of morning dew.