Separate Nights

I wish I was with you.

As full as the moon above,
is my heart’s frustration

I want to be skin to skin.

Within your arms of love,
emptied of my desperation

Freed from the regret.

Sometimes harsh, sometimes sublime,
drifting between then and now

Time I know I shall never see

To meet again as if for the first time,
someday, somewhere, somehow

But I lay alone in my darkness.

Dreaming it’s your warmth I feel
as I tightly grasp my pillow

Desperate for your touch

Pretend that the wind’s gentle appeal,
is a sensual kiss you blow

Looking into Luna’s face instead.

I pretend my moon is the same
as the one that rides across your night

Just as strong, just as fragile.

As the eggshell syllables of your name
I whisper to the ghost of you in the moonlight

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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 57

Into Azure

From the cerulean
Gold falls
And ocher vales
Crimson plummets
In violet frenzy
Solemnly descending
To the depths
The nadir

Of night’s indigo

Reaching out
The vast emptiness
Bitter reminder
Of what was

Once again
Finding it fitting
My heart
As deeply plunged
Into azure

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dVerse Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar – Impressionistic Writing

the fall

i watch as the world dresses in hues
of goldenrod, carnelian and fawn
shades of reality harden with dollar wine blues
then again, maybe it’s the sixth beer i’m on

refusing to believe the revolution, its been 365 tonight
the encore of champagne promises spilled among burned biscuits
and buns hard enough to make martha stewart cry outright
as i drained bottles and tears over the possible end of us

thrown off kilter i pleaded give me time, you gave me until fall
and seasons of dancing pixies floated atop my vodka on the rocks
waiting for the warm liqueurs to answer the call
but eyes glazed, would i have known if opportunity even knocks

my friend bill w knocked several times but i turned my face
thinking i still had time for you and him after my next beer
i never noticed as i fell from all my close friends grace
i had new friends in a variety of bottles colored and clear

straight faced i refresh my promises
to sailing sober no matter what it took
charm bought time with the doubting thomas’
but it wasn’t a trip I was ready to book

a year of a thousand little cases of dying
slipped by without fulfilling even a shadow of your desires
it’s once again smoldering in fall flair and i’m trying
but all i can smell is the burnt rubber of departing tires

class is over, but for me the lessons yet begun
it took two for conversation to engage
but the play had reached the end of its run
and you, the main thespian had left the stage

the job, the flat, the wheels left too, but still life’s sweet
with a flourish take a sip to autumn in the park
lying on the grass stretching out my feet
and take another sip to life in the growing dark

i note that dry leaves make fantastic kindling
thinking maybe i should extinguish the flame
my mind drunk in suicidal spindling
but i swear dropping the cigarette is not the same

damn i don’t know, did you kiss me goodbye
would i have even noticed after all
my ocean of tears can’t make inflamed kindling dry
i never did recover from the wagon’s fall  

Alcoholism

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Hyde Park – Thursday Poets Rally – Week 70

Hyde Park Purfact Poet at Rally – Week 70 – The Fall

I accept the award and nominate – Bohdirose

Just Say Good-bye

 

No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try
Yesterday seems as though he never existed
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye
“Fade to Black” – Metallica / Live, Sh*t, Binge & Purge

I’ve tried this before to little avail
But this time determined to stay gold
My aim was true the blade took hold
The gashes on my arm a tempest of Braille
Of each attempt before where I failed
I believe I’ve played my final checkmate
In this quiet club where most anything goes
No one notices as I’m caught in pain’s throes
The link between life and death starting to mutate
No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late

My thoughts miles away, with millions to go
At last I leave this earth, this fool’s paradise
Smiling at the success of my pending demise
My heartbeat a descant to my blood’s smooth flow
An improvement on this life I’ve come to know
It’s an odd pleasantry as my body starts to die
The euphoria on knowing I will soon be free
My shirt adorned in the crimson spree
And try as I might, I simply cannot cry
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try

He will come now, I say dispelling my fears
A hole in the wall expands revealing a park
Giving entrance to a figure cryptic and dark
And I marvel how no one else sees or hears
As the avatar of death himself slowly appears
He comes now, years after his help was enlisted
His movement young and yet somehow old
Beauty redefined in his most unique mould
The “what if” and “what is” become rapidly twisted
Yesterday seems as though he never existed

And he comes soft as a murmuring breeze
To guide me from this plane to the next
I welcome this release from the pretext
That each day here was worthy of reprise
Feeling the release of life’s final degrees
I wanted this death, and Death is willing to comply
It’s the start of a beautiful friendship
He grasps my frail hand in this new kinship
But I’m not dying, for to say I have lived is a lie
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye

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Yes, another glosa.

dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 56

In the Shadows of the Night

In the shadows of the night
With a bright moon above
I lay here longing
For a chance at love

Each morning sun I rise
Hoping I find the one for me
Each night I go to bed
With my heart still empty

I’ve since long proven I can make it on my own
Now I’m just so tired of being all alone

In the shadows of the night
My heart I’m willing to share
But it don’t mean just any fool
Is going to be welcomed there

I once rushed too soon to someone
Who brought me nothing but pain
That was one hurt, one too many times
I don’t need to go there again

A man of faith, a man of heart, a man of his words and deeds
A king custom made for this queen, Lord you know what I need

In the shadows of the night
I offer my plea; my prayer
You built this vessel of love
But my cupboards are bare

Am I paying for some sin?
Did I transgress somewhere?
Is this how I repent?
Will no one ever be there?

Your daughter’s pleading, prostrate with hands clasped tight
Oh please release me Lord, from this harsh plight
How my heart is aching, in the shadows of the night

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It’s been a grr week…

Slice of Life Story Challenge

The Weekly Slice of Life Story Challenge

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dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight Mic

dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight ~ Week 55

Unfullfilled

Anything goes

That was his deeply growled whisper
As she, hungrily cupped the sides of his face,
Kissing him roughly, deeply with need
Her mouth singed with the heat of his passion
A smoldering inferno that pulsates
With each extended digit
That careens into her

She lines kisses down him neck
As he nibbles the base of her throat
Goose bumps trail down her arm
She anchors him against the wall
Undressing the rest of him
Hot candle wax drizzles down the center of his chest
She tracing her fingers through it, marking her name upon him
Hearing his breath tremble inside his chest
as he expels throaty moans

Pulling back, her husky breath pants in his ear
The scent of his cologne floats in the air
His lids droop with pleasure
As she teasingly barbers him with her gentle grazing
Around the ring of his empire
The tastes and smells of him whirl through her
Driving her even wilder

Drawing his mouth to every part of her body
She runs ruby red nails along his spine
Her vision grows hazy and she starts to sway
As he pays particular interest in lip service
to chiming the tiny bell that hangs
Just inside the arch
She tries to breathe him in-side her

She feels his arms grip her tightly
as heat pours out of him
Her craving still unsatisfied
Anything goes, came and went
The promise of satisfaction unfulfilled

Still she moans the words
He doesn’t want to hear
And insists he takes what he has earned

But he knows…

He guiltily leaves his unearned fee
On the dresser by the door
That has barely closed behind him
When he hears the battery-operated hum

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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 54

In The Eye of The Beholder and The Artist

"Wrong Century" by Tomas_KucerovskyWrong Century by Tomas Kucerovsky
(click for larger view)

This illustration, is making the social media rounds, especially within the plus-sized community. It depicts the way plus-sized beauty is seen by most in this century versus how such beauty was seen in previous centuries.

I saw this illustration for the first time at 2:30am just before I went to bed. I could not quite figure out why my gut reaction to it was “WTF?”. I understood the overall point made, but that gut reaction lingered. Considering the time and I had to rise in a couple of hours for work, I emailed it to myself so I can review the art when I was not half sleep deprived.

I have now seen the illustration with a lucid mind (hah since we’re speaking of MY mind), in the bright light of day and now I understand my gut reaction.

The artist has the woman in the illustration gazing a famous painting of what are no doubt big beautiful women, while others near her mock her corpulent beauty. I cannot decide if her expression is wistful of a time when women with her physical attributes were greatly desired and considered the height of beauty, or if she is woeful of the fact that beauty such as hers is not considered so now.

What triggered my gut reaction was Kucerovsky use of Rubens Rape of the daughters of Leucippus as the beauty counterpoint. Why this specific painting? Why could Kucerovsky have not used say…

Judgement of Paris by RubensJudgement of Paris The goddesses Hera, Aphrodite and Athena being judged on their beauty by Paris.
(click for larger view)

or better…

The Three Graces by Peter Paul RubensThe Three Graces – more naked goddesses to behold!

or best…

Venus in Front of her Mirror by Peter Paul RubensVenus In Front Of Her Mirror
(click for larger view)

Now when a painting of the Goddess of Love and Beauty has more rolls than a bakery, there is no mistaking what the standard of beauty was in Rubens’ time. There is a reason to this day that the classic euphemism for a big beautiful woman is Rubenesque.

Of all the marvelous works of Rubens’ available that depict beauty as it was seen then, he chooses a painting depicting abduction and rape of women as his example! So now we are not Goddess worthy even within a picture of a picture, but abduction and rape is a-okay? What exactly is being said to us big gals here?

As a plus-sized beauty in the 21st Century, should I be grateful now if I am lucky enough to be seen as an object of desire even by rapist? Is that the only way we big girls can “get some”? If the female in the illustration is looking wistfully at this painting, what does that say about the artist’s interpretation of what he thinks is the mindset of today’s fat woman? That we’re so desperate we’d willingly accept rape?

Were this a face-to-face conversation, this would be about the point where one of my friends would say to me, “You see too much into things!” and I generally retort with, “And you don’t see at all!”

The overall essence of Kucerovsky ‘s illustration is good, it really is, but it also leaves such a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, that I can barely appreciate the zest of the original flavor.

Red Hot & Goofy

Saturday Morning, I am at the train station on my way to a meet up with friends to attend another friend’s wedding. It is summer, it is hot and I am on an elevated track so I have little protection from the sun. A train pulls into the station, but not the train I need, so I simply stay where I am and wait enjoying the one minute of air conditioning through the open door. I see four kids, two boys and two girls, looking out of the train car window. They were between five years of age at the youngest and perhaps eight at the eldest, just being kids. One little boy for some inexplicable reason decided to stick his tongue out at me. I know it was directed at me as there was no one else on the platform close enough to be considered.

Remember, I’m dressed to go to an afternoon wedding. My hair is curled, my make-up done and my jewelry is not sedate, but not flashy. My dress a perfect fit, following my curves to nicely flow around my knees. In other words, it is the perfect party dress, in the perfect party color – red. Not just red, but RED. A red so bright the devil needed shades to see me and by the many compliments I received throughout the day, looked fabulous in it. Fabulous to everyone, except this little upstart that is. So what does any grown 48 year-old woman do in the face of such profound adversity? I did the most mature thing possible – stuck my thumbs in my ears, waved my fingers, did a little dance in place and stuck out my tongue in return of course.

I suppose because I am an adult (hah!), children do not expect such behavior or perhaps because I was wearing sunglasses, the boy didn’t realize I was looking right at them and thought he would get away with his action. Alas, did I see and responded in kind; much to the surprise and delight of the other three kids with him. Knowing my reaction was in relation to his, he shied away embarrassed at being caught. I smiled and waved bye when the train doors closed. They all giggled and returned the wave as the train pulled out of the station.

I enjoy doing the completely unexpected, even with children.

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Beautiful Monster – Sorta

http://www.xojane.com/fun/disney-villians-beauty-line-ursula

In a nutshell: Disney has a new beauty line of cosmetics with MAC Cosmetics called Venomous Villains, featuring make-up inspired by classic Disney female villains such a Cruella De Vil (101 Dalmatians) and Maleficient (Sleeping Beauty). My rant is what they’ve done to my favorite of the female villains, Ursula the Sea Witch (The Little Mermaid).

Disney's Ursula

In some sick stroke of insipid marketing they gave my girl some serious celluloid liposuction just so she can shell out sea shell eye shadow?  C’mon Disney – really? Really!?!

Ursula was a mature ass.
Ursula was a glam ass.
Ursula was a bad ass.
Ursula was a fat ass.

Ursula was a mature, glam, fat ass and an unapologetic bad-ass vamp to boot! Don’t believe/remember that? Check this thick chick out here…

Tell me this does not scream “I’m sexy and I know it!”

Above is the Ursula millions of little girls (and the women who had to sit through the movie with them), loved to loath to love. Not this…

Disney's skinny UrsulaSeriously, who is this female?

Had I seen this image out of context it likely would have taken me a full fifteen seconds to get that she is supposed to be Ursula.

So what is Disney is trying to say? That you’re only allowed to be a bad-ass and glam these days if you’re young and slim? This reboot is a slap in the face of all of us mature, bad-ass glamorous women, especially those of us who just happen to be fat.

The real ugliness of this is, had they left Ursula drawn as originally intended almost no one would have batted a false, rhinestone eyelash at her glam fatness. By changing her they’ve made a non-issue into one. If Ursula is worthy of being included in the Venomous Villains Beauty Line (and she damn sure is), then she should be worthy as originally drawn; not re-drawn and quartered.

Mirror of Time

A girl in a market catches my eye

She of the sculpted tee and yoga pant
A rebel streak of cerulean dye
Nearly hidden under mostly raven locks
She’s of age to know to care about the streak
But not yet of one to totally hide the independence

A modern-day hippie
Sans loose sundress and strength of floral

She combined natural scents
Creating heady herbals of patchouli and sandalwood
Which wafted through the air
Stirring serenity

Across the street at a karaoke café
Sipped my usual personal serum
Of a raspberry espresso concoction
Nearly as heady an opiate as the incense

I drummed perfectly painted
but wildly colored talons on the table
Reminiscing my days of youth as such
Before age, if not necessarily maturity
Rained down on me
When I gave birth to her

Her head rose for a moment
And she waved and smiled
Before making her purchase
And just short of skipping
Crosses the street to join me
Her older mirror

A mirror secretly hoping
that those same rains
Take its sweet time
Before they vale upon her

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Monday Melting (Week 21)

Write an original poem using the words listed below:
Market, yoga, café, dye, serum, patchouli, sandalwood, raspberry, opium, herbal
natural, espresso, sundress, serenity, rain, rose, sculpt, drum, karaoke, hippie