Tag Archives: Poetry

The Process…

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And thus the process starts and ends with me
 I wake with the warmth of the new spring sun
 And break through my covers damp and earthy
 The first stages of life newly begun
Through summer I grow and
 Bloom; recreating myself and
 My brethren once more in the
 Flight of birds and bees.
 
From autumn’s wings we land upon the ground
 In winter’s cocoon I slumber once more
 Then like the phoenix rise again in spring
 And thus the process starts and ends with me
  

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Theme – Thursday | Spring

National Poetry Month – Day 3

A Ragged Shiver

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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

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 .
.

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

Good-bye

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She hears someone
ask a question,
but ignores it
only having eyes for the man
lying before her

Fingers
once plump with life’s bounty
are now long and slender
the joints so pronounced
In her hands his grasp
is now a far paler shadow
of the bone-crushing grip they once bore

The last vestige of thicker memories
his hair, in its continued unruliness,
belies its current state of thinness
as she gently pushes it back from his brow
Just as she used to do
in much younger days

Like his fingers,
his once round face
has been redrawn
into an austere beauty
She ignores the breathing tube
resting against the now sharp lines
of cheekbones and jawline

She looks up at the nurse
finally hearing his question
Yes, she nods slowly, she will be okay,
eventually
Then with a violent shake of her head
belies that
and feels her husband’s arms
quickly surround her
when the tears flow
as she looks back once more
at their son

The pain gone, his eyes
are amazingly clear
as they no longer stare back
into her red rimmed ones
until she reaches up
and gently closes them

Forever

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It’s Open Link Night | Week 145here at dVerse ~Poets Pub. My now three day old mood has clearly affected my muse as well. I’m out of town for the weekend, hopefully a different scene makes a better attitude.

 

I Want To

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See it

    A moth drawn equally to the darkness
    at one end of the equation as well as
    the bright flames at the other end, 
    beckoning in its steady sway to unknown music
    I want to...
Hear it
    The kinetic current that sometimes happens
    when I run my hand over its surface
    I want to...
Smell it

    The light fruity notes
    with hints of something deeper, earthy
    I want to...
Taste it
    In that odd way we say something tastes like crap
    without ever actually ingesting such
    I just know how good it would taste
    but for right now, I can't resist
    I want to...
Feel it
    the thick dark curling softness at its base 
    as I slide my fingers in his manbun releasing
    his locs a heavy yet soft suede as it falls
    free along my fingers, a signal that let's him know, yeah
    I want to...
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Today at dVerse Mary asks us to write so that we see it, feel it, taste it, hear it, experience it as you do…..in all its beauty.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub |Poetics – Savor the Beauty and Share It!

When Never Happened

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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

Winded

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I ponder the landscape before me
The heat blistering
Vapors rising from its midst
Near blurring my view
Like steaming asphalt
On a summer day

Then winds caress its surface
A summer zephyr
Hot in its own space
Yet cooling
Compared to the craggy topography

In the near distance
I can see the drafts
Bending the haze to its will
Its passage a forgone conclusion

Or so I thought
As one harsh gust
Changes the very terrain
Blasting away all in its path

Looking from the empty fork
To the mound freshly fallen
Upon the floor
It’s just as well I think
Damn food was too hot anyway

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Happy St. Paddy’s Day!!

Today at dVerse, guest pubtender Kathleen Everett has prompted us to write a poem about the wind. I suspect a very hot serving of pilaf and a very hungry tummy that lead to some impatient huffing and puffing on my part, with unfortunate results, is not exactly what was meant, but hey – it works right? Right.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Winds of March

Let’s see how others are blowing their way through this 17th  day of the challenge:

8th-annualc2a0slice-of-life-story-challenge-invite

What’s The Story?

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In the light of the day she’s a woman quite known, of beauty truly
Her eyes a most unique shade, not quite verde nor quite lazuli
With an abundance of ebon curls, a burden she called unruly
Affluent in riches and soul, her words are harkened most duly

Very few knew the nocturne song of this exalted magistrate
Her penchant for uncurbed appetites are ones many would berate
As the light faded the elegant manners, which many relate
Are in sharp contrast to her daytime form, considered so sedate

The few who knew would never tell, for they held the same prescription
To a peccadillo of delights, brought in by joint subscription
Sent in varying packages always with some vague inscription
The lack of which has rubbed a few of them into a conniption

But then rumors started to leak and some of them quite gory
What were the bundles with the odd leaf? Were they against the tory?
A press conference held for the purpose of restoring their glory
Was a sickening love of taffy, that’s the end of the story

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Busy day + silly mood = weird last-minute posts

Let’s see how others got through this 14th day of the challenge:

8th-annualc2a0slice-of-life-story-challenge-invite

Unrequited

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Can’t call a soul to my defense
The blame is mine, this wound immense
Don’t fall! Don’t fall! – sworn to uphold
The secrets of new spring leaves hold
The heart, the soul, can’t be controlled
You paint the sky with stars so bold
My vow too gone to be consoled
The secrets learned too late are cold
This love for you never is told
For to another yours is doled
Love found, yet lost, is the penance
To ache in this profound silence

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Because I have not done a poetic form in a while – today’s form: Duo-Rhyme (12 line)

The Duo-rhyme, is a 10 or 12-line poem, with the first two and last two lines having the same rhyme scheme, and the center of the poem (lines #3 through #8 or #10) having their own separate mono-rhyme scheme.

Meter: 8 beats per line, written in iambic tetrameter (4 linear feet of iambic)

Rhyme Scheme: 10-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a  or 12-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a

 dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night – 144

Hello

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A man smiled at me while I sat at an open café
My usual first response: to turn away
To see which woman the smile was directed to
And I think to myself “It couldn’t be you!”
For too long I’ve worn a badge of pity
Not feeling loved, needed, wanted, pretty

In the beginning my spirit was his to inhale
in the end his spirit I couldn’t exhale

My ex’s house cleaning included the parts of my self
from the years I put my own needs on the shelf
then left my empty cupboards open for all to see
Exposing validation of the unworthiness of me
I finished the job he started on my own
And turned a heart made for sharing, abandoned and alone

So ingrained was his scent in the breaths I take
I had to relearn to breathe for my own sake

Taking fresh stock of what I wanted, but not needed to be there
I surprised myself to find my pantry no longer bare
No longer blinding myself to what I needed to see
I rethink to myself “why not me?”
A fresh breath, a fresh step, a fresh peace, a fresh start
Each breath osmosis; restoring soul to the heart

I take the shades from my eyes to let them show
Turn back to my admirer and breath. “Hello”