Sweet Spot by Diane Dehler

Diane Dehler

June 10, 2013

Sweet Spot

Dandelion seeds unfurl a white thistle sky.

She is dressed as a ballerina in clouds.

Eyes around her are flounces of poppy petals.

She is imperturbable beauty, an entire forest of tall trees.

Her dress: a dream theater and underneath her dress the sweet spot.

They told me about it.

I searched for it myself she said; higher, lower…

A communication that loses itself in its own endeavor for a

body prefers to understand beyond words.

This way- that way, your body adjusts itself against mine.

A wave laps against the seashore, a

merge of in and out.

You are as much a part of my body as a lover, sweet spot.

Your pleasure moist, a mirror of agate soul body,

Agate smooth skin that always knows the way….

Diane Dehler

First published in poetic diversity: the Litzine of Los Angeles, April 2014

Persephone in Ghost Town by Diane Dehler

Persephone in Ghost Town

Persephone walks in Ghost Town at 26^th & San Pablo in Oakland.

Fireworks erupt into violence of a lost and mythic war zone.

Here on 26^th Street drug dealers host a 4^th of July extravaganza….

I didn’t know this.

I told my neighbor, a thirty year old woman with six kids and large

sad eyes that I was planning to “go to” the city fireworks event.

What do you mean she replied, you just go stand out on your porch and the

4^th of July be coming to you.

Smoke and torrents of blood colored displays rained for hours transforming

an urban ghetto into an abandoned city in Hades.

Persephone appeared in the smoke and her three months of habitation

here in the Sorrows haven’t done her much good.

Here, where children are flayed by bullets and human needs waft through night.

-An historic parallel of mythos and brutality.

Persephone’s beauty is as out of place as a Cecilia Brunner bush.

My front yard is a Sleeping Beauty land of pink roses run rampant.

They push through clay soil and a top layer of loam to cover the rickety porch.

It was my fingers that dug deep beneath with a trowel, planted hope.

A barrage of litter blown by wind spills into my small yard that is not an

island, despite the lush perfume of roses.

Yet the roses prevailed long after the occupant of the decayed house fled.

Meaning I eventually got away unlike most.

Ghost Town is homage to a great land of prosperity and poverty’s

discarded children.

I saw Persephone departing with one of them,

foster mother to despair.

Diane Dehler

First published, Deepwater Literary Journal, Issue 1, February 2014

Scarlet attended the orchid ball said, Princess Haiku

Persephone; a poem by Diane Dehler

Persephone

I can be seen

Slipping down the dusk

In a thin black boat.

Oars made of my 

Wooden love, send 

Chilly notes of reproach 

Through watery channels.

I pass beneath frozen

Rocks that dazzle me

Cold black and grey designs.

A solitary bell tolls,

Persephone’s bell

Ringing an ancient time.

One moment past tragedy

Hours before dawn.

Remembering roses and

Sunlight, windy clouds,

Rain on my face. 

There are crevices where 

My eyes once were.

You who have tasted the

Bitter red fruit 

Of love, we know one 

Another you  and I.

Diane Dehler

Published in the Taj Mahal Review Vol. 12 Number 2http://www.theapplicant.org/site/2013/12/01/snow-leopard-nepal/



http://www.tajmahalreview.com/

Lady Slipper in red said, Princess Haiku

Today is a writing day but stopped by with a to die for Lady Slipper Orchid.

red orchid sizzle said, Princess Haiku

The red lady slipper orchid went to the ball dressed as herself. What could be more perfect?

a respite in red said, Princess Haiku

Today, I feel as though I am enclosed in glass and everywhere these shadows.

reflection a flower of self, said Princess Haiku

an orchid mind, said Princess Haiku