Gypsy music

The nomadic in you
asks you to run
the music demands you stay.

Freedom is restricted

close your mouth
put tape over its corners

tie your legs together
with a stone, send it down a lake

put your hands to other use
than typing on a keyboard

avert your eyes
from areas marked with "caution"

cut all buddings of feather
growing between your shoulders

this is natural, a redefinition
of you being free to be restricted too.

Strike

It is all closed, the storefronts
the streets, all void of people

it is all kept at bay
the cooking, the school-boys running with burdened bags

it is all left behind
the tiresome, slow hours of work

it is all closed off, striking
except the windows to my heart, open.

too much excitement is not good for women

because the rational cannot compete with the tender 

because the excepted cannot grant way for those unable to beat misery 

with the back of their hands 

because like little glitter you cannot box smiles 

because there are things needed at the house 

because the washing up will stay unwashed 

the dishes dirty, the kids unfed

because it replaces the heart with a butterfly 

because it is not acceptable 

because it preludes to bad things 

because it requires energy 

too much excitement is not good for women.  

olive picking

Three on the floor
legs between buckets and century old trees
olives pitted and non pitted
let down to earth with nimble hands

wedding rings, not needed

No wedding ring
on her fingers

incapable of loving
herself first

maybe it is not about
loving what's inside for once

maybe all this love
has to be splayed open

for the world to see it.

a challenge

Put in to paper
he asked
a challenge in words