Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Waking Autumn

Posted: October 8, 2017 in Love, Poetry, Sonnet
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When I recall the quiet noise of morn

The days I pine, the darker eyes that loom

Ask less my mind, for when I in a gloom

It is the sky I seek to slow forlorn

 

The memory a haunt of sorrow found,

As lives we sow are asked to further go.

Beyond the real of the love we know

Is sunlight sure to welcome saner ground.

 

In between slats of home a golden air

Bemuse fear of letting go, losing her

For it is beautiful the morning stir

Of golden leaves – descend summer’s ware.

 

So when in the morning sun I wake alone

Her elegance in brilliant sky be shown.

Test

Posted: July 16, 2017 in Poetry
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Words, keywords,

what drives your eyes

to wander further,

how is it possible I might find the right,

frame of mind,

passage through time,

correct association,

how possible

is it to imagine

you will move quickly past

words,

and find an end.

A bullet's impact is seen on a window at the scene after a shooting at the Paris offices of Charlie Hebdo, a satirical newspaper,

The killers deserve no name

let’s forget about them,

let’s not talk about them,

any more,

let’s find them and forget about them.

forget about them, they don’t exist.

~

Let’s remember the writers,

the people with lives,

with families,

with beauty and grace and elegance

in their minds that allowed them to speak

freely, freedom, free-thinking

ideals that helped us to laugh through the pain

of our sick, evil society.

~

Let’s remember Charlie Hebdo,

their ability to help us to laugh at the

ludicrous, ignorant pain of the human condition,

did not deserve,

to end with a bullet,

a massacre,

a cowardly outrage.

Let’s remember the writers,

the human beings whose lives represent

the fear, that we simply have to continue to ignore.

In case you all forget, let’s remember the

real victims.

Nostalgic Lust

Posted: January 6, 2015 in Poetry
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I do imagine you,

soft, serene, an elegant air

of caprice

that plays with the eyes

those moments that are left to my creative mind.

Yet, the oils to arouse my notions

I know always

on hand,

in hand,

in your hands as tease and desire

respond together.

I wonder sometimes how many hours of the day

are left to pure seduction

without provocation,

only the beauty that is you

in that sweet state of mind that carries

my own fantasy far beyond the mundane reality

of my day.

I wonder about you, and wish to know your desire

like an aura of the purest sensuality

travels with you

remains inside of you,

always waiting.

Pine Trees in Winter

Posted: January 2, 2015 in Poetry
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pines

We all know

the beauty of pine trees in winter

majestic, yearning to the sky,

hardy and strong,

holding their own without willow,

symbolic giants of elegant sway.

They carry the burden of cold tears,

hanging on branches, weighing them down,

like the human spirit,

a destiny far ahead outlasts the initial pain.

We can spend our lives wondering,

how strong we remain beyond the normal days.

I know I would like to be a force of strength,

but I am lost in my pining,

collapsing amongst the strength of nature,

not knowing when I might ever feel,

beauty and grace,

when might I finally let go,

and allow the world around me

to grow with desire, with delight,

when will my woe

shake off the limbs of uncertainty,

and flourish in the morning sunlight.

When will my life melt away the tears.

Just You and Time

Posted: December 31, 2014 in Poetry
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r-WOMAN-RIDING-TRAIN-large570

I miss you,

when I look in her eyes,

I yearn reaching out

touching your cheek,

feeling your flush ask me for more,

moving together like two meaning lovers.

I miss

shoulders, soft and needing my hand to slide slow

underneath garments that waited for me

to return,

garments familiar with my desire,

waiting to be used against you,

brushing your lovely skin while my hands

explored inside,

wanting only you as lips touch,

we tease, tongue, taste, play, passionate,

while hands continue to find,

to explore, to then shudder,

your hands now,

yes, we are together on this …

I miss you,

seeing you,

your passion waiting for me pensive,

wondering if I might return.

I’m so sorry I didn’t ever return.

The ache continues …

Old and Wise

Posted: December 30, 2014 in Poetry
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gloves

Walk by my caress,

and let me breathe,

beauty in summer dress,

unmasks my sheathe.

I landed here,

recently much to my demise.

It became clear,

I’m older and less wise.

I follow quickly,

my yearnings to flower,

soft petals lovely,

bound by thoughts of her.

Happens every day,

I might walk alone,

and yet in any way,

her desire I hone;

inside my own mind,

is where my desire dares.

I can imagine in kind,

the delight of her wares.

Yet, here I do recall,

a time when I knew love

an energy beyond all

soft tease of sweet glove.

My passion is real,

I yearn for her caress,

while on a sweet day I reel,

sweet surrealĀ sundress.