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...
and close my eyes.
i will picture something pleasant in my mind
and feel arms that are not there
protecting me from the bad dreams
that enjoy taunting me and haunting me
so that when i wake, i wake refreshed
and fit to fight another day.
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...
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...
skymoon in perfect balanceAs pale stars bloom over the pinesBlend into intimacycurves molding rough edgesSkin kissing skinIn languid warmthMy fingers painting whisperson your chestYour strong rhythm throbbing to my earThe rough undressedThe submission sweetConnected with...
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...
.The echo of clinking metal resounds and vibrates along the hillsPulsing, pounding like a heartbeatYou, mounted on your trusted steedYou, wrapped in your armorNoble man of strength and honorMany battles have thou fought and wonRough and worn and torn asunderThou hast returned to...
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...
This one sweet gift I seek
All the longing I feel
The regrets I contend
Wind themselves round my heart
Blind my eyes
Clutter my mind
Buzz in my ears like angry bees
For this is how they perpetuate
Steal the senses for their own survival
And so the war...
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.
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...
on a sunny afternoon
The ringing laughter
The warmth of wonder
The innocence of simplicity
The hopes and dreams that trail in your wake
Bittersweet kisses in my mind
You take the happiness I would give
The sweetness I would share
The softness I would feel
With an open heart
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.
ancient Romans said. First live,then philosophize. But where do we set the limit between both? Which one is the right proportion? Which is more dangerous if taken in larger amounts than we should? I have not found the answer for these questions yet, and I doubt I will ever find...
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...
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...
My uncle used to.. With the stereo turned up. But he was young then..
I guess so was I..
But that's beside the point..
I used to race around on tv.. In my game.. This music on these movies I've been watching have been bringing the memories back to me..
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...
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...
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...
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...
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...
but I'd have to get up. When you're this lazy, things aren't so simple. So I write instead, that thing I need can wait a few more moments. Think of Christopher Reeve maybe in his last few years, oh how much he'd want to get up and move around. And look here you can if you'd just...
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...
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.
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...
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...
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...
where I long to go
Into the storm
Through the waves until I reach land
Softly treading the shoreline
Basking in the glow of the horizon
A wall of amber
I stare at it
Awaiting my chance to explore
towards each other by leaning them against chairs. He would lay on that scary part of the floor and stare down the optic tunnel created by the reflection of the reflection of the reflection of the reflection. He would swear that the seventh reflection of his face in that tunnel...