Season 1, Episode 006: Mrs. Fantastic Kiss

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening!

Photo by Allec Gomes on Unsplash

Mrs. Bumblebee

Over cinnamon apple tea,
technicolor pictures galore,
she dreamed of her lover,
and so much more.
I was a starving artist,
oil streaked carnations, arm's reach.
I danced with peasants,
and ate with kings. 
The rustle of the quail song,
Pounding against the riverbed.
The opera of the nightingale,
to usher in a peaceful slumber. 
Tributes of the birds, the bees,
of emptiness and the trees,
and my lover's calls.
I spoke layman's words
but dreamt of a space
at the dais of the demagogue.
I used to scrawl carelessly,
painted his portrait a thousand times
- or maybe just his smile.
I cry out in my light sleep,
I tell that girl everyday,
asking why God had to have His way.
 One day the rain fell as thick as black oil,
as dark as my work-in-progress on the soil.
Asking him to stay, he faded away
A kiss of fog on a sunny day.
 I sketched him with my hands,
I sculpted the wound with my feet,
I molded the lust in vanilla beats.
In this rocking chair,
I mumbled into the night,
until the voices told me 
to take flight.
I stopped at this door,
craving to paint more,
of the lover I lost long ago.
 Over oatmeal cookies,
acrylic paint galore,
I lecture on my lover,
and so much more.

Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

S’embrasser

Quand il m'embrasse,
je ne sais quoi faire.
J'entends les rouges-gorges chantons,
et la glace dans mon esprit se brise.
Je me sens meilleur quand il est prés,
et mon conte de fées est complet. 

When he kisses me,
I do not know what to do.
I hear the robins sing,
and the ice in my spirit breaks.
I feel best when he is near,
and my fairy tale is complete.

Photo by Olivier Miche on Unsplash

Déchirure dans la lumière fantastique, or Trip the Light Fantastic

Intrusive thoughts from the top down
Grandparent, parent, child, apo
Unable to unfold itself

With the snap of gods finger, the air calmed and
I was left with the scars on my skin
And the blood on the page.

With no explanation
No response to the questions that rips
Into the light fantastic.

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