Those winsome words
Tumble from your tongue,
Drip and drizzle
In languid, lyrical
Velvet veils.
The tantalising treacle,
Perfectly pouring
Caramelising, crystallising
Your beautiful breaths into
Delicious desire.
Sentences spill as smoke,
From lascivious lips,
Coiling and curling,
Erotically exhaled,
Inhaled to inherit
The poetic poison,
Fogging firing synapses
Scattering senses,
Taking luscious lungfuls
Of your addictive diction.
Your powerful pages are
Expertly etched,
Scrawled and scratched
With intent to inspire.
Ink with an inkling
Of soul and sin,
Illustrious, indelible,
Biting and bitten.
Marred and marked,
To return to, renewed.
You’re a beautiful, bound book,
Cased within canvas,
Vivacious and vibrant.
The tome a sweet testament
To artistry’s aspects.
Nascent knowledge,
Esoteric expertise
Graciously gifted
In the required reading
Of a venerable, velour volume.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Her Imagination
Her imagination keeps calling her.
She tries to put herself in the room.
The hush. A silence that crackles with electricity. A stillness that is full of movement. A quiet that is disturbed by the wild beating of her hungry heart.
His voice. Soft, deep, gentle, compelling. Hypnotic. His words. His instructions. His control. Seductive and certain.
His touch. Long fingers cool on her skin. Running through her hair. Languid yet definite. Gorgeous but dangerous. Pleasure yet pain. Undressing her. Peeling her defenses from her. Discovering every inch of her.
Revealing her soul. More naked than her body.
She tries to put herself beneath his hands.
Her imagination keeps betraying her.
She tries to put herself in the room.
The hush. A silence that crackles with electricity. A stillness that is full of movement. A quiet that is disturbed by the wild beating of her hungry heart.
His voice. Soft, deep, gentle, compelling. Hypnotic. His words. His instructions. His control. Seductive and certain.
His touch. Long fingers cool on her skin. Running through her hair. Languid yet definite. Gorgeous but dangerous. Pleasure yet pain. Undressing her. Peeling her defenses from her. Discovering every inch of her.
Revealing her soul. More naked than her body.
She tries to put herself beneath his hands.
Her imagination keeps betraying her.
Miss you
I will not miss you
I will not miss you when clouds darken the sky and rain kisses my skin.
When the fire burns bright in the hearth and the candles flicker their yearning ghosts upon the wall.
I will not miss you when sprouts break the soil with green, and silently buds the shivering trees. When pale hearts are made bold by the rising sap and cupid’s sweet festival.
I will not miss you when summer spreads itself before me in wild and glorious heat.
When my skin feels the sun caressing it like a lover, like an angel, like a pretty girl.
I will not miss you when life reminds me of solemn promise stolen by sad circumstance.
When the rain trickles down my cheeks and beneath my collar and hides my stupid tears.
I will not miss you
I will not miss you
I should not miss you
I will not miss you when clouds darken the sky and rain kisses my skin.
When the fire burns bright in the hearth and the candles flicker their yearning ghosts upon the wall.
I will not miss you when sprouts break the soil with green, and silently buds the shivering trees. When pale hearts are made bold by the rising sap and cupid’s sweet festival.
I will not miss you when summer spreads itself before me in wild and glorious heat.
When my skin feels the sun caressing it like a lover, like an angel, like a pretty girl.
I will not miss you when life reminds me of solemn promise stolen by sad circumstance.
When the rain trickles down my cheeks and beneath my collar and hides my stupid tears.
I will not miss you
I will not miss you
I should not miss you
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Maybe
I have her beauty hard-wired into me
I have known it forever.
My first fantasies were of her.
She has never changed.
The same hair, eyes, mouth, chin, nose.
The same height, weight, posture and stance.
The same shoulders, breasts, hips and thighs.
The same mix of swagger and vulnerability,
of shyness and chatter,
of independence and submission,
of contemplation and fun
Her beauty is burned into my soul.
And I have found her
Once, twice, even three times.
Well, almost.
I keep looking. Although my time here is running out.
Perhaps one day ….
I have known it forever.
My first fantasies were of her.
She has never changed.
The same hair, eyes, mouth, chin, nose.
The same height, weight, posture and stance.
The same shoulders, breasts, hips and thighs.
The same mix of swagger and vulnerability,
of shyness and chatter,
of independence and submission,
of contemplation and fun
Her beauty is burned into my soul.
And I have found her
Once, twice, even three times.
Well, almost.
I keep looking. Although my time here is running out.
Perhaps one day ….
Memories
I will suffer this memory
Through countless,
sleepless,
endless nights.
Goodbye
hanging in every silence.
And me
Clinging on bravely
With my yearning fingertips
Seeking solace
In any smile.
And you
Your eyes
full of parting
And your lips
already bruised
with another man’s kiss
Through countless,
sleepless,
endless nights.
Goodbye
hanging in every silence.
And me
Clinging on bravely
With my yearning fingertips
Seeking solace
In any smile.
And you
Your eyes
full of parting
And your lips
already bruised
with another man’s kiss
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Disappointed, again
Dear Heart
We cannot go on like this. I will not be ignored.
I have been watching you these last few weeks. You need me far more than you realise. I know you better than anyone else in the world. Without me in your life you are ill-disciplined. weak.and directionless. And you lose your pride and your nobility. You know you do.
This new thing has me shaking my head. What on earth do you think you are doing? Where do you think it is going? I shall tell you.
Nowhere.
Certainly she loves the poetry, the flattery, the adoration, the attention, the odd meal or two. They all do! But the girl isn’t really interested. You are the one doing all the work. When has she ever done anything other than respond politely? She has her own thing in her life and you, quite frankly, aren’t anything special.
Eventually, without me, you’ll get bored – you always do. I don’t care how lovely she is, how rare, and unique and how you are (sighing with derision) ‘such good friends’. It will all just get messy, believe me. Especially in the circumstances.
That is when you will come running back to me.
So bite the bullet now, make your excuses and walk away.
And you and I can go out and have ourselves some serious fun again. It has been a while.
Yours
Mind
We cannot go on like this. I will not be ignored.
I have been watching you these last few weeks. You need me far more than you realise. I know you better than anyone else in the world. Without me in your life you are ill-disciplined. weak.and directionless. And you lose your pride and your nobility. You know you do.
This new thing has me shaking my head. What on earth do you think you are doing? Where do you think it is going? I shall tell you.
Nowhere.
Certainly she loves the poetry, the flattery, the adoration, the attention, the odd meal or two. They all do! But the girl isn’t really interested. You are the one doing all the work. When has she ever done anything other than respond politely? She has her own thing in her life and you, quite frankly, aren’t anything special.
Eventually, without me, you’ll get bored – you always do. I don’t care how lovely she is, how rare, and unique and how you are (sighing with derision) ‘such good friends’. It will all just get messy, believe me. Especially in the circumstances.
That is when you will come running back to me.
So bite the bullet now, make your excuses and walk away.
And you and I can go out and have ourselves some serious fun again. It has been a while.
Yours
Mind
Different
I am not a man who wastes time on regret
The corrosion of ‘could have’, ‘would have’, ‘should have’ will eat into you if you allow it.
The rueing of chances not taken, opportunities not grasped, possibilities not followed will wear you down.
It will ruin your nights as you relive key moments, review decisions, reconsider actions, replay situations over and over again.
It will grey your days with shadows of other paths, other routes, other plans, other lives you might have led.
It will make you doubt your judgement, question your instincts, be uncertain of your decisions.
It will leave a bitter taste in your mouth that will taint the shiny fruits of tomorrow.
It will linger like a ghost, always at the edge of your vision, making you think, imagine, wonder if … just if…
I am not a man who wastes time on regret.
But I wish it could have been different
With you
The corrosion of ‘could have’, ‘would have’, ‘should have’ will eat into you if you allow it.
The rueing of chances not taken, opportunities not grasped, possibilities not followed will wear you down.
It will ruin your nights as you relive key moments, review decisions, reconsider actions, replay situations over and over again.
It will grey your days with shadows of other paths, other routes, other plans, other lives you might have led.
It will make you doubt your judgement, question your instincts, be uncertain of your decisions.
It will leave a bitter taste in your mouth that will taint the shiny fruits of tomorrow.
It will linger like a ghost, always at the edge of your vision, making you think, imagine, wonder if … just if…
I am not a man who wastes time on regret.
But I wish it could have been different
With you
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