so elusiveAs continually, it ticks and drifts and fades away.Like dew fades off the petal with the sunAs a dream evaporates with wakingPrecious minutes, withering.Sweet momentsGraspingTrying to inhale Taste Savor Relish itLet it take rootBut alas, it loosens from...
The objective is in sight.
Impervious to doubt
Chin to the bar.
Now get some sleep!
How warm the love left to the cold? How reaching the words no one reads? How full the glass no one drinks? How blue the sky in which nothing flies? How dark the day when gone is light? How moving the song no one will sing? How hale beats the heart which bleeds? How quiet the...
with a hintA gentleman Lounging in your leather chairSparkling deep eyes, like thewild sea,perusing the landscapethrough the paned window.Rolling the brown between male fingerswith a carressing gentlenessthat belies the firmnessYour lips wrap around the Monteas you draw...
Imperfect in every way.
She had no color to attract.
No thorn to protect.
Such things matter little when one is a weed.
But every few months she mustered a bloom.
A bloom not of fireworks and sunsets, the weed bloomed with a hushed beauty.
A quiet pretty...
revealing the spectrum
of primary colors,
but why do you feel the need
to remind us
and spoil the moment?
We know it is
the sound of air filling
a complete vacuum created by intense heat
ten times hotter than the sun.
when negative charged electrons
hazy shadowsand fiery warmthalong fields and foliageand seeping thrillingly into skinLanguishing like it owns summerSweet Autumn crooks it's fingerbeckoning seductively as if to say....Soon you shall swoon and fall into meAnd I shall burst into brilliance.
in the state of Michoacan at just the right elevation, there is a small town called Ziracuaretiro. In the Tarascan Indian language it means, "The place where the hot ends and the cold begins." which simply means the weather is perfect. Banana's, sugar cane, and pine pitch for...
thought pops into my head as I'm writing, I just think
Well it appeared for a reason.
And I'm grateful for it because I have had writers block for over half a year.
I use to think I'd want to be a writer but I don't know anymore. I enjoy writing but if it was my passion...
Ticking clock and candlelight
The cold company of despair hovers in the flickering shadows
"I'm always here," it whispers
"I'll never leave you"
"Embrace me, let me in"
A siren's song for the unwanted heart
To wallow in the sorrow
Let go and let the pain flow...
springbut irrelevant.Couplets and quatrainsor free form self indulgenceIt's my time to wasteFive- seven- five linesstacked to challenge my egopoor pedestrian.Here I go againmy ink is not innocentmy soul is taintedWhy do we do it?What is there to gain from this?What is the damn...
in me you have a friend.
We can share our secrets,
bad dreams that never end.
The broken see the broken
with eyes so crystal clear.
We can share our secrets,
what strikes us full of fear.
The battered feel the battered,
with hearts so full of pain.
We can share our secrets...
ascertaining, not complaining. Observatory minutiae, ocular orbs seeping, skillful lances jutting from out of nowhere.
Famished senses, dead left, flopping right, no center, just the rib cage.
Ahhh the sounds, the sights, the oversights, overhearing, like catching a radio...
With a beginning, middle, and end. Usually it's missing a timeline, but not this one.
Now if I can keep my adult-onset ADD in check...and summon up the self-discipline to actually *work on it* and *finish* it....this could be cool!
Hold me down do you like it when you I fight, now
Warning. You might need some chains on me right now
We **** over night, morning and did it again, now
I'm more sore, like how you gave me no signs, ow
Gave doors to a whole new life, wow
Discipline me I like it when...
her cheek blurred as salt filled tears fall soaking one spot on her silky blouse that made her a lady. Her neck and chest flushed by the heat of emotion as desperation bellows from her core.
Slouched like a child in a large brown arm chair, she gazes off lost in a familiar...
traveling to yours.
Pulling, tugging, gently, slowly,
landing on your shore.
There you stand before me now,
your eyes connect with mine.
I am certain that I know you
from some other life or time.
No words are spoken as we gaze,
time is standing still.
I could stay forever here...
you remain distant...elusive...gone.
I long for the past
When you held me in a peaceful bliss
And allowed me to dream
Of wonderful, horrible, fantastic things
Now you have deserted me
And my eyes are wide open to the loss
And yet I still beg for your return
"Come back to me...
naturethe fragrance of earthamong leaves long fallencrunched beneath soft soles..Feeling the subtle shift of the winda cool change in directionShe wandered..into melancholy meadowsshimmering beneath the sun.
Euterpe, you are too.
Thalia, you lift me up
when I am feeling blue.
Melpomene, you are close to me
Terpsichore, you were my youth
Erato, touch me secretly
Polymnia, you are truth.
Ourania, comes to me at night
and my soul she does enthrall .
Calliope, I love you most,
the wonder of it...
The odd texture of certainty
My mind strokes it hesitantly
Aware of its fragility
Before my eyes flash vignettes
We always seek proof...
He's looking into my eyes and laughing
He's enjoying me
There is no hollow ring of falsehood
I feel the...
christian boy. Always taught to treat women like the princesses they are. He knew he was lucky. Dad was a powerful, imposing man, but he was confident in himself, so much so that he allowed his vulnerability to be seen.
He danced with his little girl at Father Daughter dances...
Maybe it's like child birth then? That will have to constitute as positive thinking at this point. Keep the writing with personal or public. No more for the time being writing to one who feels like having a baby girl or boy when my bitter vocabulary reaches new depths of inanity...
girl, not what you want so
What you love I do but never enough
Can't expect you to tie a ring on me
You lock me up till it's over with
And all I ever wanted was for you to love
me like husbands do
Run me something good something new
Trying to up my status high was never...
Off of my mind are our things my sweet honey. I'll carve a path and a tree to your liking. I'll scale the mountain and scale your walls knowing well, I may fall. "All the better" I foolishly think. "Falling off just means falling further." I build a place for us to stay and fire...
among the ferns on the forest floor.
Hemlock and western red cedar giants
tower above the fungus jungle on the rotting leaves.
The sun alters the smell of rain,
and a light wind coaxes the wet from the branches.
I think as quietly as I can
because I am an intruder.
that I thought I was your baby
I was shocked hearing about it
But I doubted, I need reassurance, how could I not
Just took me out
Holding grudges, cause you put me down
Well you completely torn my future
I'm here asking why and throwing shade hoping you'd drown in...
and I have an assignment due in one week - the first draft of a short story.
Most of the story is already in my head - I just need to write it down. It's about the same characters who are in the novel I'm writing. (The novel is about how my life should have turned out, as...
bubbling beneath the surface.
There was a time I was mischievous, flirty and funny.
There was a time I had so much to give, a time when I could constantly be there for those I love.
There was a time when I had hope and dreams.
There was a time I knew what passion was.
it's dying..Like a love that seems to endYet, perhaps only fading into dormancy.Just as that tree shall burst forth into lifeon some warm spring day.Perhaps that love also never quite dies,But is lying in quietude, stillness..Waiting to be reignited in some brilliant ray of...
A seeking mind
A heart worthwhile
A beautiful soul that speaks to mine
Surely a treasure found
But why then do you hide from me
The other side
The basic beast
With his dirty paws
And sordid dreams
You turn to me with innocent eyes
Deny deny deny
I know he's there and with...
You can't fool me
I've been around the block,
and I write about it.
I need no help
from the likes of you.
You want rhyme?
You want rhythm?
You want structure?
Do these things not exist in Hades?
Don't send me to the Goth O matic.
I'd rather write a stinker,
inspiration to write about anything significant lately. Ups and downs, ebbs and flows, writing is indeed an art which reflects life...As the Carpenters tune goes, Trying To Get That Feeling Again... Have a great day Epers.
I just want to be close and hold tight
All you do, is all I need and if it's good for you its good for me, so hold tight
Don't turn away in fear, in this time and in this space, keep us here and hold tight
A tender moment lost in bunches of passionate kisses and light touches...