RED MUSE POEMS  

Redness in shadows/
A Muse/ not there but here

living because the sun is a prayer:
"Release me into wide skies
Release me into the water-will of you."
She wants the Africa of her dreams
in haunting eyes/ she wants the Queen of
herself to lounge in blue, succulent afternoons
hanging heavy with mangos and blood-red bananas
in the boat that will bring her home.

In a sea-glide through red roses that heave
on the breast of the red sea; sweet apples hang
white from forbidden trees. The sea is dewy,
yellow; tawny girls sleep
                           in the silt 

of unappreciated days.

Armies of unappreciated days climb the
sheer battlefield of her moon-like skin. Poems are
knit for her like sails from brown hands. They smoke
without sound along waters hungry for its green rays. 
They thread the needle with unerring skill.
Poems are made for her. They are carved from the belly
of the poet and browned in the southern latitude of his
                  heart. 

Heart! Red Muse! 

Songs are spears thigh-deep in new suns where
darkness intersects

                infinite possiblities of light.

Joy  dances on waves of great expectations.
Sadness kneels at the edge of the Earth
Play dances a red fandango in the air 
Poet loves her from a distant star, a cold rock.