(Your poem)... written on May 22nd, 2009
I want to dig my fingers into the softness of your skin.
And knead it, pull
Tear, but, oh! so gently
w/ kisses...
and sweat. And sweetness.
Sea salt.
You inspire poetry
(Trying so hard to replace all the L's)
There is no word for this...
...wanting.
The smell of you alone makes me follow
...and come.
I will swallow back my words
Standing in water
Naked to the touch
To the bone
To your...touch
Familiar
And reviving me
Pulling and biting
Please
Linger
It lingers
there
On my pillow
lie down, sweet
and let it rest for now...
For a while...here,
in my hands
Let it.
Lie in my arms
And...oh! too much is never enough!
Enough for one nigh?
...with you is...calming
and ecstasy.
New
And old
And always...
I feel you
(here)
softly
And...
...oh...
....sweet....stay.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Old Poetry... (7)
The Sun Rose Like No Other...
written on April 10, 2007
written on April 10, 2007
There is passion to be stolen
from the breath of flowers.
And innocence can be regained after all.
I was a thing Etherial
Before your hands had touched me;
Filling me with sweetest poison,
A foriegn melancholy
Like liquid-velvet black
Sickness; Numbing; Smoke...
And my words are too graceful for you.
My brightness was what you wanted;
You yearned for my natural glow
To feed on.
But my darkness rivals your own
And you could not compete;
it consumed us both.
I win. Mine was darker.
And so, I emerged the triumphant
dead-thing.
There is no celebration in that.
I look at you now, and I realize...
Soon it will be as though we had never met,
You had never tasted my body,
differently from a thousand others,
or I your love.
It was not real; it was not ours.
I will forget your name
My sheets will smell like mine again.
And the loss is not somthing I hold
enough hurting words to describe.
But I am moving back to the sun now;
Stronger for the pain
Weaker for the taste of love
That lingers on my tongue, my lips,
My thighs full of memories of
staring into your face at night,
And the possibilities still
drip from my eyes...
Sometimes.
But knowing my worth now,
the true Endurance of my Nature
I am strong enough to fight
and to let go...
NO, I can fly.
from the breath of flowers.
And innocence can be regained after all.
I was a thing Etherial
Before your hands had touched me;
Filling me with sweetest poison,
A foriegn melancholy
Like liquid-velvet black
Sickness; Numbing; Smoke...
And my words are too graceful for you.
My brightness was what you wanted;
You yearned for my natural glow
To feed on.
But my darkness rivals your own
And you could not compete;
it consumed us both.
I win. Mine was darker.
And so, I emerged the triumphant
dead-thing.
There is no celebration in that.
I look at you now, and I realize...
Soon it will be as though we had never met,
You had never tasted my body,
differently from a thousand others,
or I your love.
It was not real; it was not ours.
I will forget your name
My sheets will smell like mine again.
And the loss is not somthing I hold
enough hurting words to describe.
But I am moving back to the sun now;
Stronger for the pain
Weaker for the taste of love
That lingers on my tongue, my lips,
My thighs full of memories of
staring into your face at night,
And the possibilities still
drip from my eyes...
Sometimes.
But knowing my worth now,
the true Endurance of my Nature
I am strong enough to fight
and to let go...
NO, I can fly.
Old Poetry... (6)
MY REVOLUTION written on May 19th, 2009
Damn you, Father!
Oh, yes, I will name you
Shame you
Right to your face
Don't you dare
Reach for another
When you can't even look me in the face!
You are trying to force me into one tiny box
When I span globes and worlds of humanity
And feelings
And instincts
And you don't even know me
Not even a tenth
Not even one ounce
So go and lie to yourself and your pictures
Because what I am, you never will know
And after all this talk
Of loving and leaving
You'll be the one who's left all alone...
And NO! I will not take this one quietly
No I will not sit down hide
Because, Fuck you all!
This is MY revolution
And I am not oing to lay down and die!
NO! I will not sit this one out
Not after the bottle
Not after te pain
Not after my lips had bled fom my bile
And I could not even say my own name...
I will not let you treat this one lightly.
Not after your years of turning away,
Because, in the end,
I waited for you
But you have had nothing to say...
Damn you, Father!
Oh, yes, I will name you
Shame you
Right to your face
Don't you dare
Reach for another
When you can't even look me in the face!
You are trying to force me into one tiny box
When I span globes and worlds of humanity
And feelings
And instincts
And you don't even know me
Not even a tenth
Not even one ounce
So go and lie to yourself and your pictures
Because what I am, you never will know
And after all this talk
Of loving and leaving
You'll be the one who's left all alone...
And NO! I will not take this one quietly
No I will not sit down hide
Because, Fuck you all!
This is MY revolution
And I am not oing to lay down and die!
NO! I will not sit this one out
Not after the bottle
Not after te pain
Not after my lips had bled fom my bile
And I could not even say my own name...
I will not let you treat this one lightly.
Not after your years of turning away,
Because, in the end,
I waited for you
But you have had nothing to say...
Old Poetry... (5)
Far From Home written on 3/7/2009
Do you remember who we are?
Do you remember who we were?
Music until 1am? Laughing, so nervous, and showers and oh, holding, so gently, so much holding...and I love you.
Playing games and staring blissfully at each other...
Do you remember?
I have forgotten who I am. Completely.
Why does everything creep so surely away...
Why does everyone leave you all at once?
I remeber holding, but I forgot so much.
The way you smell. The way it feels to laugh. The hopeful face, all gone. Joy. All gone.
Where are you now? Now that you aren't you?
And where am I, now that I am alone and no longer myself?
Who's left? No one's standing up to take the blame for this?!
To want what we no longer are serves no purpose. But music comes onto the computer screen, reminding me of spring and you and me, and I still cry.
Do you remember who we were?
Music until 1am? Laughing, so nervous, and showers and oh, holding, so gently, so much holding...and I love you.
Playing games and staring blissfully at each other...
Do you remember?
I have forgotten who I am. Completely.
Why does everything creep so surely away...
Why does everyone leave you all at once?
I remeber holding, but I forgot so much.
The way you smell. The way it feels to laugh. The hopeful face, all gone. Joy. All gone.
Where are you now? Now that you aren't you?
And where am I, now that I am alone and no longer myself?
Who's left? No one's standing up to take the blame for this?!
To want what we no longer are serves no purpose. But music comes onto the computer screen, reminding me of spring and you and me, and I still cry.
Old Poetry... (4)
MAY DAY MORNING written 5/1/2009
Remembering
We are surrounded by white walls, now,
and empty wood...
A late start, and I feel llike I've been playing 'catch-up' ever since;
Rushing, head-long, into the wrong way sign...
My 'self' began to fade
the moment I said, "I'm not ready"
but took the offer anyway.
Now
It's May Day morning...
and two years later,
where am I?
Remembering
We are surrounded by white walls, now,
and empty wood...
A late start, and I feel llike I've been playing 'catch-up' ever since;
Rushing, head-long, into the wrong way sign...
My 'self' began to fade
the moment I said, "I'm not ready"
but took the offer anyway.
Now
It's May Day morning...
and two years later,
where am I?
And why is that always the question,
I have to ask
when one chapter ends, and another begins?
How did I lose my way this far?
When did I become so careful?
When did laughter become such a foreign companion?
And what did it ever really have to do with you?
Old Poetry... (3)
SHE SAYS, ME written on 5/19/2009
No, she says,
I don't think you'd like it
It's not very good,
It's just me, she says.
Just me, she says, me and my words;
My words and my thoughts and my everything.
(Everything).
I seem to be prolific these days,
Prolific, creative, pontific and flowing
with SO many words
And pictures and movements
and music I'm forcing through
one tiny pen...
But the words that escape can't come,
Never come clean.
I'm looking at you
And I'm looking at her
And I'm fighting the urge just to tear it all down
Down, down, just
Burn it all down!
My mind is brimming with
Ashes and Anger
with Bile and Fear and full of regret
Filling with jealousy,
(oh, sweetest jealousy)
She does not liked to be shared,
you see?
But then again, it's only me...
Doubt and fear are tricky companions
Subtle, controlling, and more than I've got...
But I can't hear the words you are saying
Over my blood, or from where I stand
The world turns to picture;
The world, it goes crazy
(No, I just go crazy)
Just inside the door...
It's dark in here (oh, so dark in here)...
When my mind is freely allowed to wander
But I am here, somewhere
Somewhere I'm still knowing
That you are still you
And that I am still I
And that you are still thinking of me...
I don't think you'd like it
It's not very good,
It's just me, she says.
Just me, she says, me and my words;
My words and my thoughts and my everything.
(Everything).
I seem to be prolific these days,
Prolific, creative, pontific and flowing
with SO many words
And pictures and movements
and music I'm forcing through
one tiny pen...
But the words that escape can't come,
Never come clean.
I'm looking at you
And I'm looking at her
And I'm fighting the urge just to tear it all down
Down, down, just
Burn it all down!
My mind is brimming with
Ashes and Anger
with Bile and Fear and full of regret
Filling with jealousy,
(oh, sweetest jealousy)
She does not liked to be shared,
you see?
But then again, it's only me...
Doubt and fear are tricky companions
Subtle, controlling, and more than I've got...
But I can't hear the words you are saying
Over my blood, or from where I stand
The world turns to picture;
The world, it goes crazy
(No, I just go crazy)
Just inside the door...
It's dark in here (oh, so dark in here)...
When my mind is freely allowed to wander
But I am here, somewhere
Somewhere I'm still knowing
That you are still you
And that I am still I
And that you are still thinking of me...
Old Poetry... (2)
Another One written on 5/30/2009
Fell into the trap again
Fell out of yourself...again
...Go outside...
Are you going to cry again?
Stupid girl.
Are you going to feel it?
Or stuff it inside...
I know what you're thinking...
And it's just a lie.
Been too long inside
A world that's not there
And never was there
for you
When you needed the time.
Have you got the time, little girl?
Have you got it this time?
Better now than then.
Better end it too soon.
And the moon...
And the moon...
And the moon...
Stupid girl.
Just look to the moon.
Fell into the trap again
Fell out of yourself...again
...Go outside...
Are you going to cry again?
Stupid girl.
Are you going to feel it?
Or stuff it inside...
I know what you're thinking...
And it's just a lie.
Been too long inside
A world that's not there
And never was there
for you
When you needed the time.
Have you got the time, little girl?
Have you got it this time?
Better now than then.
Better end it too soon.
And the moon...
And the moon...
And the moon...
Stupid girl.
Just look to the moon.
Old Poetry (1)
written on 6/12/2009
There are things in this world that MOVE me.
Set my soul on fire.
Unexplainable intricacies.
Empty, full desire...
I am wearing electric blue today
And feeling something stirring
A haunting and a hungering
A wistfullness
A yearning
But I am here and on my feet
Full of the urge to fly
A melody is on my tongue
My mouth is full of sky
High on tip toe,
Full of grace
And greatfullness
I try
To lose myself in summer
And hope I'll never die...
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