The Stillness Of Twighlight

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Blues, reds and oranges imbue
Semi-dark, yet semi-light skies
Trying to make sense of the deep hues
As I wake with slowly opening eyes

Is it dusk or is it dawn now? For the moment I wonder

Here in this cabin far away from the City
I have naught around that can give a clue
Nature surrounds and its sounds are pretty
But not enough for me to put a time frame to

Laying there in the summer warmth I let my mind wander

Does it really matter I think with the mildest chagrin
As I feel your touch in the not yet day-not yet night
And just like that sparking an emerging fire within
Time no longer a concern in the stillness of twilight

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National Poetry Month – Day 18

Rebel

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I’ve been accused of being hasty
Full of mischief
I don’t act my age
And just what would my maturity be
Were there no markers to presume me sage?

And since when does sage mean stoic?
Or static? Or standard? Or stunted? Or still?
If my entire youth was lived being the rebel
Why shouldn’t my later years
Hold the same will?

I share a bond with Luna
My spirit justly named
Come mess with me
Try to lead me astray
If by chance you think I’m tamed

Simply because my sea of ebon locks
Is pierced with a few opaque silver strands
I’ll blow smoke circles while we match martinis
’Cuz come the morning
It will be me who still stands

An Ample Beauty in all my glory
A modern Venus rising from the foam
Luna shines her light upon me
As I add new tales
To her ancient tomes

I’m vivaciously living to my fullest
So when I close my eyes at last
It won’t be with tears for what wasn’t done
But with a jocund wink
To my past

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National Poetry Month – Day 17

The Lovers

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We’ve been together for years
Yet I hold her so close
As though each time
May be the last time
She’s in within my grasp

My calloused fingers
Stroke her neck
Run up her curves
Down her contours
As she lays across me

Ever my lover
She has in turns
Destroyed my heart
And saved my soul
She knows I am hers

Not my woman
With each caress
She wails and moans
At my command
Dark night or bright day

I share her always
Yet the moment I touch her
It is just she and I
On stage alone
In tuned only to each other
A man and his guitar

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night – Week 152

Ricardo

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Try this he says holding out the glass
And I’m thinking to myself No, I will pass
But his eyes hold a look, a certain teasing dare
And I’ve never been able to resist the challenge there

Holding it to my nose I could smell the sweetness
Something not quite bold and yet without meekness
You like? He smiles after a moment’s space
Already knowing the answer by the look of my face

My first cruise ever, our first true vacation
Had a rocky start, on but later the elation
So many new sights, new joys, new bliss
And now we are introduced to this

A couple of bottles of rum bought on a simple whim
But we sipped from afternoon, until light grew dim
The next day more bottles were bought to roam
And then bought more to take it home

Here I sit reminiscing on that September
I take a slow sip and fondly remember
How this taste first came to be in my days
And the bittersweet hold in which it now stays

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Reminiscing on my very first cruise and a specific brand of spiced rum that can only be purchased in the Bahamas as the company does not export.

National Poetry Month – Day 15

Play Me One More Song

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Brother, come and play me one more song
For my load is heavy, my sight bleary
My days are now few where once they thronged
And my thoughts they grow ever more weary

We knew someday this day would come
Brother, come and play me one more song
The path we traveled together at last is done
For we have traveled this road so very long

You have known me all my days
From boy to man in all my ways

Give me one more memory before long
For there’s little chance I’ll make another
Brother, come and play me one more song
It would warm this heart of mine like no other

For my time is done this much is true
And when I’m gone I’ll heed you to be strong,
But ‘till we meet again I ask this last thing of you
Brother, come and play me one more song

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At dVerse Jennifer Wagner asks us to write about brothers “from any angle”. Using what I’ll call a disrupted Quartern, my muse chose the final angle.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : Oh Brother!

National Poetry Month – Day 14

Real again

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They
are gone,
with my heart
the sweet  twilights
of which I once sung

Like
the joys
and the pains
of loving you
now just memory

Yet
eyes closed
soul open
I can feel you
Dusk is real again

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Today’s form: the Arun.

A nonce poem created by friend and fellow blogger, GirlGriot, an Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements. Today, I follow the pattern she’s set, so far, left aligned and un-rhymed.  I will take a little poetic license again, in future runs of the form.

National Poetry Month – Day 13

On Her Own

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.
.
Coffin covered with newly upturned earth
Contains that last of all she’s ever loved
She starts to pull rose petals from their stems
She’s aiming them to land within a shape 
Patterning pictures only she can see
Patching a tribute for lives cut away
Eyes blur with each crimson petal that falls
Upon the sodden ashes of her youth

Her life, based on the scope of others, bound 
Daughter-wife-mother; thus have been her days
Her own deep needs followed for the first time 
She finds the sudden freedom much too bold 
She watches the last petal land with grace
Then heads out to live a life on her own

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National Poetry Month – Day 12

Ro’s Rant

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Boom
This ache
That was caused
Surprised me so
Eyes the color of irises in bloom
Seen from a glance across a crowded room
I should have known
’twas the start
Of my
Doom

Fell
So hard
that is what
I truly did
I wish someone had rung a warning bell
His lips upon mine had not chance to tell
That loving him
Totally
Would be
Hell

Blend
Is what
We had hopes
For both our folks
we knew for a while it would be pretend
but in time hands of true warmth would extend
Jules and I knew
it’d be good
in the
end

Blessed
is the
One thing that
We’d never be
His folks would rather take knife to my breast
And my folks held him in equal detest
Who would have thought
Parents could
Be so
Stressed?

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Using the Double Tetractys form to give modern twist on a classic Willie Shakes tale.

dVerse ~Poet Pub | Open Link Night # 176

Willow Weep

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Heavy verdant draped limbs
Reach high and wide
Basking in warmth
Even as the sheer weight
Turns its more tender arms
Downward

Aye willow, weep for me

Each sultry leaf
Swaying
In the gentle breeze
Like the tears
On the precipice
Of my chin
Waiting, waiting
Waiting to fall

Aye willow, weep for me

Concealed
In its lush canopy
Foliage vales
As tears threaten
One day at a time,
They say
But today
Is summer solstice
Giving the sun
More time to sparkle on
Glistening tears
If only they
Would heed and fall

Aye willow, weep for me

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National Poetry Month – Day 10

Richard (the diminutive)

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When he knocks,
My doors open
And I let him inside
For I am alive
By the power
Of his breath
That inhales
And exhales
In tune with mine

He kisses me,
Yet he has no lips
He fondles me,
Gripping me tightly
Yet he has no hands

Beauty redefined
His distinct touch
Ferries his intent to me
If I sleep, he woos me
Should the blaze of passion strikes
And revels in gregariousness
When I rise

And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble
And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble

I know him deeply,
Just as
He knows me deeply
From his many visit
To my halls

Until I’m done away
In colorific splendor

But he knows how to mend
when I falter

For with a gentle kiss
My doors open again

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National Poetry Month Day 9