Poetry – Letters For My Lovers

Becoming You

sometimes I wish
I could paint my feelings
like Picasso painted his portraits
inaccurate renditions of
something so beyond our reach
that mortal eyes falter
intricacies unbeknownst

to say “I love you”
would be an affront to the universe
for love, as a disarray of synapses
pales in the face of
the void of my feelings

a pull deeper than the tides,
a light, brighter than a harvest moon
a delicacy sweeter than honey;
reality infused with
more magic than witchcraft

days merge and blend
swirling into a steady lifetime
of morning smiles
and afternoon delights
your love, like a community garden
overflows with abundance
a cornucopia of simple being
upon which I gratefully feast

Contained

i yearn
to feel contained
within the safety of your arms,
like a thousand bronze statues
your musculature dances
scrutinized by eons of longing

your hand
so harsh in its love
reddens my skin,
closes gently on my throat
the ultimate safety contained
within your grasp
i can feel the weight
of a million worlds
tickle my soul
as i lose myself
in the nothing and the everything
that is the space within my stars

sometimes,
you make love to me
gently, slowly,
a million kisses painting my skin
languishing in the pleasure
becomes a painful
expression of desperation
contained by muffled cries
othertimes,
our lovemaking
becomes a primal exercise
of fire and passion
my will matters not
and i lose myself
in the fury of your love

like our story
our love is boundless
fleeting,
eternal,
ephemeral,
all at once constant
and ever-changing;
we are fluid as water
and solid as stone
a curious contentment
of freedom and fancy

within our love
insanity becomes reason
and marks on thighs
become war paints of passion
i could lose myself forever
because i know i’ll
always be contained
within the safety of your arms.

Ring With No Master

Gather ’round all,
Come with me to the menagerie.
No, not a ménage à trois,
But bel et bien a collection of curiosities.
A harpy, a siren, a strongman
Why, you might even find a bearded lady.

Oyez, oyez!
Come closer, take a look
At the caged beauty
Who’s forgotten herself;
She’s the magician’s monstrosity.

You will be awed, you will be repulsed,
No! Don’t stand too close.
Alluring as she may be,
She’s waiting in bleak silence
‘Till you get close enough
For her talons to sink into your soul.
Some fall in love,
She falls in angst.

Come one, come all!
If you’re ready and willing
To pay a pretty penny
For a glimpse inside
The realm of my nightmares.

Patience

I am no longer a volcano.
I am a seething rage of cool existence;
a deep burn, one that ignites the soul.

A liberating flurry of flames,
destroying all to better begin anew.
Two steps ahead of the phoenix,
I’ve already planted the seeds
to help my inner-world flourish.

I am no longer at your mercy,
but gently pressing
against the walls of my own being.
Reappropriation is like laughter:
it bounces off walls,
and its imperceptible power
fills your heart with joy;
a glitter bomb
exploding in your soul.

A Universe unto myself
my expansion is continuous.
I’ve set my mind free
and let the cage of my past
dissolve like ashes in the wind.

I can taste the colours again,
soak up the love in their eyes,
savour the silence…
dance ’till I drop,
scream at the top of my lungs,
fall into passionate embrace,
let my heavy eyes rest,
and do it all over tomorrow.

I can feel the lead of a pencil
sigh as I press down onto paper,
feel the temperature of colours
when they meet, swirl and mix;
and the words trickle like dewdrops,
as they roll off the pages of my mind.

I now remember
the untarnished power
of finding beauty in the now,
the stars, the sun, the wind;
and the radiant smiles
of those who populate my world.

Apate

I somehow, know you better
Than I could ever know myself.
A lifetime of mundane wonder,
Lit up like a macabre circus.

The dramatic nature of your curves
Brought me close to the precipice
An ant inextricably drawn
To the sickly honey between your thighs.

Your lips were my heroin,
Your breasts my belladonna.
Your eyes, a mirror to my soul,
Your essence my nourishment.

I somehow knew you better
Than I could ever know myself.
A sweet agony of hidden meaning,
Forever about to crash ashore.

One hand clasped on your throat,
Another between your thighs,
A succubus in her element,
Ready to drag you into my abyss.

Daddy’s Good Girl

Bow your head to me
let me grasp the clasp
that binds us,
and makes you feel
whole again

Present your open hands
so I may fill them
with the throbbing object
of my desires

Kneel in poised positions
statuesque perfection
willing and ready
to do Daddy’s bidding
with the nod of a head

Beg me, time and time again
to hold you tight
and fill you,
so completely
with my love.

So you want Sexy Poems?

For you, my reader,
I spread the pages of my soul,
I dip the tip of my tongue
In the forbidden ink of divine intervention.
A lost soul longing for a set of lips,
To kiss, lick, suckle to my heart’s content.

A tickle of a button
So soft it could make a feather tremble,
A breath caught between two sheets;
One second, two, three?
A gasp!
Air rushing through inflamed lungs,
Tiny beads of sweat dangling
On skin as soft as lips
Caressing freshly painted nails.

For you, my reader,
I explore long lost caves
Forsaken by the gods;
Heathen sanctuaries
Of nymphs, sprites, and fairies
I penetrate sacred grounds,
Document my stories
With tale after tale,
Stroke after stroke
Of my pen on shaking parchment.

A trusting hand,
Curling inside forbidden fruit;
A pressure so pure
It parts the sky with its lust.
The surrender…
Sweet delight, like hydromel;
Nectar of the gods.
Even they are unworthy
Of the delicacy, that is you.

Missteries

It’s a knock on the door,
the turn of a key in a lock;
a click of a dress shoe’s heel;
checkered socks on dark hardwood

It’s a kiss on the cheek,
the whiff of sweet perfume
on the nape of a neck;
gentle passions burning,
aflame like a candle’s wick

It’s the heat of a hand,
rough fingers extending;
the warmth of a sigh;
a shudder of anticipation
waiting for a breath

It’s the thump of a heart,
beads of delight dripping
onto softly parted lips;
eager moans beckoning,
the deepening of eternity.

Seule – for C

loneliness is like a bubble

sometimes all we need
is for it to pop, Pop, PoP!
like a kernel in the microwave

at first, inert,

it doesn’t look like much
then, from somewhere deep within
a heated force of overwhelming power
shines through and breaks the shell.

Cast away

as the tides turn
I learn to navigate treacherous waters

a viking setting sail for the new world,
I circumvent the currents leading me astray
due north, ever further…

winds batter my mast,
my hull heaves under the tumultuous disarray

the maiden, beautiful in her purity
protects my path with knowledge beyond doubt
Goddess of a world out of reach of my own
she hums to me, angelic, serene

stormy seas
are no match for the newfound calm
that resides deep within my soul.

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