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Posted: 10/20/2007 6:16:37 PM | All Hallowed Nights
Why must I suffer
One more vanilla coated night?
Unadulterated. Chaste
as a born-again virgin
pinned only by the hands
of a sweet memory
Deprived,
errant spasms blot the mattress
anointing the engorged coils of
insurrection thick with need.
The defiling dream.
In ignorance I am delivered.
Incubus, if you are a demon
you are mine. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/20/2007 7:00:22 PM | Lovely words there Sophia Risen 
Why must I suffer
One more vanilla coated night?
Unadulterated. Chaste
as a born-again virgin
Velvet darkness hovered,
Dusk slowly creeping
Tiptoed over quiet earth
Found Daylight sleeping
Naked but for her
Gown of dewy mist
Night time lightly brushed
Her shoulder
Then gently raised her halo
Of stars,
Chanced being bolder,
Kissed her
She stirred, restless dreaming
Broken by his touch
Soft breeze grew stronger
Slumbering senses much
Aroused fever
Pitch
Now sleepless, daytime
Tossed, then turned
Wind blew stronger
Feelings churned
Night time withdrew
Waiting
Moving silent before
Petal pink Dawn arose
To see her mistress
Beyond repose,
He glided swiftly
Daylight felt his tender touch
Her body burning,
Moved towards him
Aching with familiar yearning
Drowned in lust
His expert hands,
Lingered gently until
Too much to bear, she
Longed for her fill
Of him
He felt her rising tide
Of passion overflowing
He plunged wildly into her
Secret, soft glowing
Core
Daylight had come | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/20/2007 8:05:46 PM | | Thanks gg...you painted my "Blue Shirt" heart so vividly! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/21/2007 12:02:08 PM |  Lovely....L. my friend! As always!
Within all the dark of night.....
you creep....
I feel you ....every touch and scent
so scant but real to me!
I taste my innocence
It drips and drips,
Beyond the darkness
even light
It lives within me ...
such a sight
I feel you holding me so tight
yet you are gone
I smile in spite!
The vastness of your tender soul
I make it be my only goal
For one as you to touch ....
me there....
Feeling everything you feel!
This would be amazing poetry.....
Lovely things of another
mind.....
I am not blind....
swallow heart and swallow mind
Intense in meaning ....
lost in self description.....
You could be my gentle saviour
Lift me up from all the blue
Amazing colours I see ....in you!
Destiny lives in your paintings ....
yet your heart .....you paint me...
Another lovely painting to be....
Yet not finished....
yet when .....all will see!
The amazing poetry and symphony
the one you leave .....
only for me!
For a friend.....and thought I would place it here....you convey much love as of late my dear friend.........hugs jules
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/21/2007 6:43:57 PM | sorry, your turn for my last rant of the night, darilin..
I wish I could paint...
sometimes you get friends and sometimes you get lovers
sometimes both
and sometimes neither
I rubbed a lamp once upon a time three times and made a wish
and asked for poverty and famine and then I did fast
lived upon my everlasting desire for the perfect meal
which would be au jus made of your smile to dip whatever in
everything ain't gotta rhyme...
edit: make that "paint or type" | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/21/2007 9:43:42 PM | "All Hallowed Nights" is awesome writing!
I was trying to pick out my favorite stanzas, but that would be the entire poem!
great job! it oooozes with, with, that "thing". you got it, flaunt it! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/21/2007 9:44:44 PM | The Letting Go
some sort of piracy;
the way you stole, my days away from me.
god how they went, so willingly.
there are those we seek
and those that find us.
-some set free
and some that bind us.
all i am left with,
your only gift;
when you wore my shirt
those couple of days...
like feathered wings;
so uplifting, i carried you
sometimes, against the wall.
i still haven't picked up the mirror.
conceded, it leans against the wall.
i close my eyes,
to shut you out.
yet haven't washed that shirt...
the smell of you now threaded
within its very seam.
the thoughts of you, imbedded,
conceded, to dream.
i was never good at holding on.
i am worse at letting go.
* | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/22/2007 8:51:36 AM | Thanks Jules...you always lift the spirit!!
BD...from where I sit, you type and paint just fine!!! 
SB...Good to see you back! Thanks for the comment and "Letting Go" is the hardest part. Good one!!! | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/22/2007 8:52:28 AM | Stalactite
From these hands
words
spiral
crystal conch
can you see
the depth of
my eyes in yours
can you hear
the blood ocean
calling you home | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/22/2007 9:05:01 AM | Gelignite
From lips
words
tumble
fire in eyes
check yours
for lies
any flaws
but only see
a destiny
in the depths
of your soul
to goad
a spark
we explode | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/22/2007 5:06:03 PM | SR-Loved Stalactite, especially these lines
can you hear
the blood ocean
calling you home | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/24/2007 9:47:05 PM | re: Stalactite. I agree with Black Mary; and the lines he quoted!
Excellent poem!
-sb | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/24/2007 9:50:20 PM | Reward
Wove between my fingers;
Red ribbon of glorious award.
-Not blood spilt
by a common thorn.
-A purring, sleeping kitten;
you startle it, and are bitten.
Its eyes go soft, then slowly close,
once again harmless, like the rose.
Don't think of me as wounded.
You, the one that would never play.
They'll be my scars tomorrow,
but they're my reward today.
And the pain is just a stain,
that bleeds away.
The freshest of reds will turn
to mere shadow one day.
Don't try to heal what isn't hurt.
I'll curl my fist and keep it closed.
What are thorns, but minor foes,
to the hand that holds the rose.
* | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/25/2007 1:42:31 AM | Thanks SB. Reward...another excellent poem! Really liked these lines:
A purring, sleeping kitten;
you startle it, and are bitten.
Its eyes go soft, then slowly close,
once again harmless, like the rose. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/25/2007 5:31:55 AM | wow, Soul and Sophia, you are blowing me away! Excellent writes...... | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/25/2007 5:35:24 PM | Hey Brizo...nice to see you and thanks! | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/27/2007 4:04:25 PM | Gathering Firewood
Threadbare and cold walking
the frozen path of inertia
gathering petrified wood,
chronicling lore and
mocking predictions
of a future thaw
I bumped into your aura.
Your air. The breath of you.
Encompassing, intense, undeniable
like a full length lambskin coat
and a bonfire.
The meltdown irreversible
I wear your afterglow | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/27/2007 6:33:56 PM | I loved the whole poem but this part really went into me...a hand on my ribs.
The meltdown irreversible
I wear your afterglow | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Roy)
Posted: 10/28/2007 6:40:35 PM | For a self-proclaimed rookie, you dress your poems well....
Excellent write!
-PS, Thanks, Brizo!
sb | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/28/2007 6:44:13 PM | Esgrande
Ten thousand stars
in a ten mile sky.
Above forty million blades
of grass.
At three a.m.
Beside an acre lake.
And we're trying to find your things.
-Your rings, because you didn't want
to scratch my back.
Your necklace, because it came off
with the straps.
Your keys, because they slid out
of your pocket, when you slid out
of your jeans.
-My mind, because I can't think
just yet. Not right away.
Everything is sweating, like
the car windows.
I leave off my boots, so I can
feel the ground, to find your things.
My blood is pounding like
your head did, against that sign.
No trespass, it said.
We did. Damn, we did.
You were nailed to that tree
for a godly twenty minutes.
While I sucked your aches away.
You cradled my head, pushing me deeper
until I breathed through your heaving breath.
Mosquitoes couldn't wait their turn
to eat you.
Me? They kept trying to lift my
arms from off your ass.
I was too determined, so they
protested around a podium
somewhere near my ear.
Heavy air.
We won a car;
Your shirt was a white flag...
Red, but who cared.
You surrendered several times.
I waited, resurrective, my turn
to bleed.
Pale, but who counts colors
when the moon turns everything blue
and watery through the back window.
I know you anticipated the pull away.
The All Away.
Drive away, go away.
Ah, but the blissing hurt was my ten thousand bites,
from your ankles to your neck.
And my sucking in your kiss
after picking up every nick of salt
from across your skin.
Fat lipped, from all of our kissing
away words, from all the waiting.
-For courage and fear to decide what's next.
Fear is too many words,
one for every star we looked upon
while we waited for the sky to say "hush now, kids".
We forgot to be forty.
I meant it to be a grand hotel.
Or a warm cabin in winter.
I wanted to have wine on my lips.
And not beer on my breath.
I meant to be more tanned.
Hair trimmed.
But at least I was ready.
I wanted to give you more room to
give me room.
But at least you were bendy.
A few laughs, nervous spaces
between self-doubts in the aftermath.
You hold out your hands, fingers still
thumping from thundered blood.
You don't think your rings will fit just yet.
They don't do things like this in Connecticut.
It's a long way home for you.
To compare what I meant
with what you dreamt.
We have our notes from way back.
Our plans...
We never dressed in our best.
We never danced and never swam
and never bent
an ear for the other's promises
and intentions.
But we damn sure pushed
our ears back
with each other's hands.
Today, as you fly home.
I'll work on this tan.
Seashells are sesame seeds
on the hot bun of a beach.
But I'll still wear the night;
Stars were salt shaking
over our backs that we licked
with the lime,
as we drank each other's hasty goodbye.
The waves remind me of you, last night.
Lapping beneath me, around me.
Rushing, and taking your time.
And the roar of our whispers, washing
over the beating back wishes
for more,
than a grand time.
Your plane home tight-lips the sun.
The shadow streaks a scar momentarily,
across my cheek.
It cools where your heat burned into me.
The sun...just a star thinking it can hurt me.
It's nothing. I wear the afterglow of last evening.
You lost a ring;
the moon never shown
and it missed everything.
Ten thousand stars will tell
it the highlights tonight.
While we're sleeping.
* | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 10/29/2007 11:29:09 PM | BM...it was meant to. (ILY)
SB...thanks again. Esgrande. I especially like the last 3 stanzas and the way they tie back to the beginning! Your muse has done it again! | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Maria Negra)
Posted: 10/31/2007 10:31:57 PM | The Audience
The “before you” me
was less.
Like the perpetual rehearsal
of a one woman show
without props or music
and a dim spot light
that couldn’t find the X.
Improvising, gesturing
emoting futile for an
audience blank as
a row of headstones
waiting to be engraved.
Then; from the vacant corners
of the House of None
the sound of two hands clapping
in critical acclaim.
You had uncovered the me
that was born to play for you. | |
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| Blue Shirt Diaries (for Maria Negra)
Posted: 11/2/2007 9:15:43 PM | Inamorato
Hush your guttural mouth
Tranquilize the flagrant tongue
that splits my middle earth
with the tip of your will
drilling, profound
The deeper you seed
the deeper I dream
fathomless, absorbed
inward.
Hush
I need oxygen
when you speak | |
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