City Gal Country Road

Won’t deny it, I am mostly a city gal, born and raised and I love my gritty streets.  But in my youth I had me a good taste of some country days and ways. Many summers spent down in semi rural south in Grandma’s house, I learned me some things most city folks know nothing about.

Don’t know why, but there’s something about this time of year, this early spring that takes me back. . The trees are mostly gray, the very first hints of spring raising  from aground, yet that nip of winter making an appearance in the late nights. Yet I know summer’s not too long from coming.

And I’m reminded of being in the middle of a bench seat of pickup truck as a child. Or riding shotgun on a back road as a young teen. Riding hard somewhere that has never known the feel of asphalt with the spray of mud and gravel flying from beneath the tires. Oh and dappled sunlight filtered through a canopy of leaves, my hand out the window surfing the wind.

Yeah, sometimes this city girl craves a country road.

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Let’s see how others are slicing through what’s left of the weekend…

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Slice of Life Story Challenge – Day 6 | Two Writing Teachers

I Remember

I remember
that first night
the feel of his hair
intertwined with my fingers
the touch of his skin
as I grazed against it with my chin
the yearning in my bones
when he held me in his arms
the pressure of his lips
as his tongue grasps with mine
the taste of his kiss
and the scent of his hair
the way his body feels
pressed tightly with mine
the heat between our bodies
invigorating, and passionate
the ripples of my flesh
as his hand glides over my breast
as my next pulse quickens
I’m numb to all
but the sense of pleasure
beneath his softened lips
as the growth of passion exceeds us
need turning my voice hoarse
as I realize the noise I hear
is naught but my moan of his name
the steam rising from our backs
the sense of power
flowing through his limbs
eagerness withstanding
the warmth of his breath
around my nipple, gently sucking
the trace of his tongue
as it glides down the slope of my stomach
the softness and the passion
as he brings me to heightened ecstasy
setting each nerve on fire
the firm grip of my hands
as I bring my hips to meet his
clashing gently in the night
to bring our souls home
again and again and again
feeling the nod of his head
and the arch of his back
under the strokes of my nails
feeling the beat of his heart
as it beats in rhythm with mine
we have had many
such nights since then
but that first night
yes, oh yes
I remember

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dverse
dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night #160

Memories On My Mind

Those memories, times I’m sure we’ll never forget
Those feelings we can’t put aside
For what we had, sometimes I tried to understand
But it’s so heavy on the mind

The Commodores / Still

I watch a golden leaf fall
Autumn’s glory starting to call
And I’m trapped in the past, a moment set
The heart stops the clock time has met
Those memories, times I’m sure we’ll never forget

It all comes flooding anew in my heart
As though Time itself had not ripped us apart
Memories from when we lain astride
Each whisper, each touch freshly decried
Those feelings we can’t put aside

We weren’t perfect, but each grew stronger
I didn’t expect forever, but certainly longer
Only to have it gone at Fates command
These things I came to learn first-hand
For what we had, sometimes I tried to understand

Oh what I would give to have time slip
And once more have the taste of your lips
The Fates are almost never so kind
And with the moment gone I continue my daily grind
But it’s so heavy on the mind

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Using a modified glosa for a poetic rendering of a moment relived in time.

dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night 

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The Daily Post – Daily Prompt : 3/3/16 Longing

And It Was…

I have been one acquainted with the night
Under dark clouds as many can attest
That I was many things, but not my best
Then one spring Cupid’s arrow pierced with light
But spring love could not survive autumn’s blight
Yet your light lives still inside my breast
Helping me to fight back the dark’s behest
Until love again has me in its sights

To deny this hope I will not employ
For when heaviness pulls into the day
Like a quick cat that jumps upon a toy
Memory of spring flowers have their sway
And the thoughts bring me a sweet, easy joy
When I was young and loved, and it was May
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National Poetry Month – Day 30

Ricardo

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

A Ragged Shiver

A ragged shiver down my spine
One I’ve not felt in oh so long
Like rain rolling down my jaw line
Been years since I last heard that song

It felt right as we played mahjong
A ragged shiver down my spine
Sweet record of love for lifelong
Those remote days when you were mine

Left no room for love to resign
The range of how we’re both headstrong
A ragged shiver down my spine
The reasons how it went all wrong

The radio plays the damn song
Rubs nerves where memories entwine
All of love’s joys and pains along
A ragged shiver down my spine

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Playing with the Quatern form again.

National Poetry Month – Day 2

Ravenous

 .
.

His eyes line with mine
And I devour their mysteries

As I hold his gaze
And play with his mind
As he eyes my prize
The mystery revealed
Behind the long stemmed promises
The curved mocha silk
Of my open thighs

My lips on his mind,
As our bare bodies intertwined
I know
He wants to intoxicate himself
Just from the scent
Of my womanliness

Up and down,
His eyes take in all of me

Down and up,
I measure the depth
Of his love…making…my heart flutter

The ground beneath me vanishes
And I sink deep
Into his mercurial ocean
Swim in his sapphire sea
Drown
In his eyes

And am resurrected
By his honey-coated lips
My desire drips
Moist off of fantasy

 In my mind’s eye, I see his eminence
And all things that make him a man
In my arms he fades
he submits

Weak from his control, his slow motion
Body and thoughts worn
Watching him from afar
My eyes drawing him again
Into my lust
His smile melting the core of my femininity
His raw hands sculpting
The wonton I’m happily to become

And he advances towards me,
Eyes still lined with mine,
A sly smile playing across his lips
A smile that tells me
Everything I feel, he feels
Everything I want, he craves
Everything I am, he needs

And right now I am

Ravenous

 

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National Poetry Month – Day 1

When Never Happened

Sunlight streaming through my window
May as well be a cloudy day
Heartache and desire chill my spine
When thoughts of never come into play

Waking next to you that morning
The epitome of everything I once dreamed
The dread of reality crashing down immediately
Making me want to cry and scream

Moving my head forward was easy,
why does my heart keep stepping back?

Ignorance is bliss it is true
What could never happen would not be so
But the morning after never – happened
And I cannot undo what I now know

The feel of you beneath me, yielding
The dance of your fingers along my spine
The wanting with every fiber of my being
All the while knowing you will never be mine

Moving my head forward was easy,
why does my heart keep stepping back?
Stepping back to never

And if I could, I’d give this all away
But a song I never thought to sing
Was given voice for some reason
Now forever a reminder of this thing

It’s a bitch knowing the gods played us
It’s too cruel of both joy and regret
And the thing is most days I’m just fine
But today I’m an unstrung marionette

Moving my head forward was easy,
why does my heart keep stepping back?
Stepping back to never,
to when never happened.

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Drifting on a memory

Theme Thursdays | Never

in my ears and in my eyes

A little over a week ago I learned an online friend Elaine Banno, passed away. A post from her sister on Lainey’s Facebook page is how the news was broken to us. Actually, that is not quite accurate. Those who got the news first could not believe it, thus a couple of hours of has anyone heard from Lainey? type posts happened on her page before the inevitable truth was accepted.  Through our various groups we had a general sense of where we stood physically, emotionally etc, still she and I had not “conversed” one-on-one in a long while. I had come to her page that day to message her, to say “hi” ask about the blog she had not posted in a long while. That is how I learned the news of her passing.  I read through over forty-eight hours of posts (from her last post to the time I came in) on her wall in disbelief.

Lainey was not the first death I’ve gone through on social media. However, she is/was the first of someone I cared for, yet had never met in person.  This odd global village that is the internet indeed makes strange bedfellows and friends. Having “met” in an online forum and being mutual members of various online groups since, our quick wit, combined with rapier tongues made us fast buddies. Hers is a voice and a beauty uniquely her own. That’s not to say we did not have our disagreements – oh we did and the private messaging that went on behind the scenes between us were doozies at times – still whether we came to agree to disagree or have a mutual understanding after considering one or the other’s viewpoint, unlike most tenuous online relationships we always came away still speaking.

Another mutual friend created a Remembering memorial type page for those of us who want to honor, remember and grieve for her away from the family nonsense that tends to flare up during such times. I’ve barely been able to browse through it, only popping in once of twice to peruse the posts. I have perused posts on her blog and in other places to read her words. I also done so with this blog where I remembered she responded the posts, just to read her words and “hear” her voice again. I feel her loss, I really do. Yet not enough to try to make arrangements to attend her funeral. I thought about it. I considered who I could ask to get to and from the various points it would take to do so. It would not have been easy for me to arrange, but not impossible. Yet I chose not to and feel just a small sense of guilt because of it.

In this techy age we have never Skyed or Facetimed. To my semi-defense, I don’t Skype or Facetime with anyone else either, but I could – perhaps should, yet I haven’t so far.  All of the interactions between Lainey and I have solely been online, either through direct emails or the various groups we both where we were both members. We have exchanged gifts and cards. We have laughed and cried. We have checked each other. We have encouraged each other. We have shared secrets and gossip.  Aren’t these the basic things that most friends do? Yet we have never hugged. We have never shook hands. We have never broke bread together. Then again, we have never truly tied to always thinking on that someday. Perhaps it is those missing links in our connection that is the invisible barometer of where I was not comfortable/willing to make the extra effort to give her my personal good-bye, I do not know. As I tried to explain to a good friend who, like I, is also taken aback by Elaine’s passing in her own way,  it’s an odd sense of limbo.

The Beatles Penny Lane popped up on my iPod this morning.  It is listed among the classics of  “misheard lyrics” of its time and now.  Even though I know the correct lyrics, I still thought “And Elaine is in my ears and in my eyes…” which for the past few days very much holds true because I do miss you Lainey. It’s been over a week and I’m still having a hard time accepting you won’t be regaling us with tales of your cats, later on today.  That we won’t have your always perfectly timed scathing snark or cracking wise or soothing encouragements. It still won’t compute.

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Let’s see how others or crossing the limbo of this halfway point of the challenge: 

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What You Won’t Do – Do For Art…

I was attempting to take a picture of a dew-sparkled spider web in the sunlight. Please note, I, being more of a kill it with fire type person when it comes to spiders, am hardly an arachnid’s BFF.  Still I admire the delicate, intricate complexity of a well spun spider web – go figure.  I took several pictures from different angles  around it, but they were all from above. The problem, soon I realized, is that the picture I knew it could be, the picture I wanted would never be captured standing from above. I tried crouching and bending down, but it wasn’t giving me what I wanted – the clean lines of the web itself. It was becoming clear, I was going to have to get below it. Below it, as in get on the ground. The ground was still damp from the morning shower.

I was so not doing that.

Not to mention, I am in a public park. Though no one was around at the moment, I had no way of knowing how long I was going to be down there trying to get the right shot. Friends were one thing, but did I really want strangers seeing me potentially sprawled out in damp grass out trying to take pictures of – what?  Unless they came close they would not see the web. It was pure luck the sunlight played off the diamond dew drops capturing my attention that kept me from walking right through it.  From a distance, it would look more like I was taking pictures of the space between the bushes. That would surely raise an eyebrow.  As it was, it seemed even the spider was looking at me kind of dubiously as I changed angles from a still standing position.

It became one of those odd times where the artist screamed against the practical. As I heard voices approaching it was also one of those odd times where the artist lost. Personal vanity won this round as I walked away.

I mean, what’s a I take pictures even if the only person who likes them is me going to do?  I’m no Ansel Addams (no relation to Gomez by the way), it’s not as though with my little camera I was going to have an image of such high quality as to be posted on gallery walls, or at a museum or even the zoo. The only person who would know or even care that I didn’t get the picture is me. And I could live with that.

Right?

Right!

Yeah, not right.

As I continued walking around the park taking pictures, enjoying the company of my friend I was visiting, spidey and that darn web kept popping into my mind. I really wanted that picture.  We had to pass through the same area to exit the park, thus I made up my mind that I was taking the picture.  The sun had shifted and I again almost walked right through not seeing it as I had forgotten the one very important thing – dew drops dry in sunlight.  I had let vanity win and the opportunity to photograph the dew sparkled web had passed. The artist in me enjoyed a moment of schadenfreude (nyah-nyah, nyah-nyah, nyaaaah nyah!), even as I lamented the loss (boo-hoo).

So what do I do now? Lemonade time. With the shifting sun I could now get, what I could not get a couple of hours previously, good clean lines.  Knowing I was likely going to rise with slightly muddy knees, passers-by maybe watching – maybe not – I didn’t care, and practical be damned! I  didn’t think twice about it this time as I immediately dropped to take the shot.

Yes!

spider

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I was looking through my digital photos in search of one in particular to show someone and came across spidey here. While it is the best of the dozen or so shots I took, it is not the greatest – as I knew it would be, but I like it and as one of my favorite bands would say, Nothing Else Matters.

Let’s see how others are facing things on this Friday the 13th – the 13th day of the challenge:

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