Wordle #183

Wordle 183

If only I were a savant
then my words might
summon you
from the dreams
that you now occupy.
I love the way you watch me
because I know that you do not
look to judge but to understand
and right now that is what I need most;
to be heard, to be fathomed,
to be loved whole rather than in parts.
I love the way you take me in
again and again with your gorgeous pout
and your infinite possibilities.
I would concede to the unknown for you,
if only for the fraction of a chance.

All those years
of heart-rending mortality
spent or wasted
in futile, apoplectic agony.
All those years
chasing graves
instead of passion,
unaware and cut off
from my own heart
were necessary
in the construction
of this moment.

I have a habit keeping my most
vulnerable aspects
pinned to the outside
and if you were to ask what drives me
I would say life itself,
an overwhelming desire to create.
There is this notion called reality,
and it is a kind of collective hypnosis,
a sedative for the faint of heart.
It’s the thought of you
that wakes me up each day
and it’s because of you
that I don’t regret the prelude.

If not for the darkness
we would never see the stars at all
and sometimes it is the darkness
that proves the most interesting.
My life has been mostly water.
My life has taught me how to drown
after the initial inhale when the lungs
are still light enough to float.
I drown in love.
I drown in pursuit.
I drown in amazement.
At times it feels to me as if
everything and everyone in the world
were brand new and connected
by threads of pure, radiant light.

Advertisement

Wordle #162

Word Art

I reach out to you on tiptoe,
unwrapping your multifarious scarfs,
the miles of scars which tether us
in the place of ancestral roots.
Your muffled voice spills into my mouth,
sweet from a harvest of honeysuckles.
I can almost hear your heart
ricocheting against your ribs,
delible as the feathers on a butterfly’s wings.

I cannot affix my desire to any particular attribute
your alabaster bones, your slippery grin,
the way your eyes cannibalize with anticipation.
Our love simmers but it does not burn itself to ash.
The bitter, unpalatable ash of opportunistic love
cannot preserve the hearts it wrongly ingests.

Every little thing recognized or approved pales in isolation.
I would not exist if you were not here to occupy me.
I slide my legs from your shoulders and we settle hip to hip,
whatever the position the sentiment still sways us.

The thunder in you draws out the human in me.
We have endured not because we were coerced
but because every touch is to us an act of worship.
Give me your tumulus, your ashes, your sullen breath
and I will take them into myself without hesitation.

Ran out of time today.

Wordle #141

141

I love the way

You synchronize

With my eventualities.

My unholy integrals beckon

Your sick-sweet tincture,

Let others think what they will

I’ve enough pills to swallow.

So seldom do we

Live our lessons.

If it were enough

To struggle, my ideals

Might yet embark.

I’d rather draw an X

Than contemplate

Another map.

The tip of my tongue

Will suffice in conversation.

If I speak softly enough

Perchance you will hear

An answer not blasted by ego.

The tint of your smile

Stains my cheek

And what more can

Any man ask.

Confessor

Peterio

Peterio@Deviant Art

 

I undress you

With both hands

If I can do nothing else

I will tear you tenderly

In the darkest places

So that the light can

Elucidate your wounds

*

I am so sorry for not really having anything for you today. Sam and I had nearly recovered from our colds and then he went to work and caught something new!

Conduit

digital-surrealism02JRulie

A scaffolding, ink unites

Irreparable facades

I will never be whole

Cracks being an essential conduit

Between my world and this one

I expand and diminish

A pedestrian terrene

Whose very essence is space

We exist because we are imperfect

Perception permits us being otherwise.

I will not die today or any other

Because I have lived, I am recycled

In forms and consequences

Too simple/complex to articulate

 

There was a time when I

Comprised all your memories

As you still do mine

But the world has touched you

Amplified the scope of survival

To include more than just necessity

Your obsession with me is not

As all encompassing as it was before

Though it remains the reason

For your collaboration

You have come away

With countless opinions

Which burden, at times, your spirit

 

I belong in all the places

That you have killed me

Love is a kind of death,

An emancipation,

An unlatching of masks

And fear-directed imperatives

It’s not easy being exposed

And those who believe relationships

Are meant to eradicate all hardship

Will never stay in one long enough

To understand commitment

 

When I do not speak

You hear me still

If only enough to inquire

When I do not move

You wait, offer, accompany, push, depart

And even when mistaken

I know deep down what you intended

 

You are always in my orbit

Even if at times

We contradict each other

There are no contractions

In this sentence

We do not combined

Equal one thought

We are infinite

Every book ever written

Appeals to my humanity

And there is a thread of us

In each of them

What can change the nature of a man?

SHINTO

My nature is not receptive to fame

For it impinges upon a need

Far more persuasive than praise

The need to create in solitude

Under the syncopated directives

Of a diabolically reticent heart

*

I have no interest in wealth

For within its ornate trappings

I would likely find ingratitude

Death would thrust his bony fingers

Between my ribs and arrest all pursuit

Being idle, the Devil would surely

Shrink my hands into obdurate fists

Better to earn than to expect

*

I will not deny love

For love is indeed worth sacrifice

But if by another’s insistence

I did change, resentment would

Arise and with it suspicion

Why am I not good enough?

What credentials have you

To determine my life

When we can not

The same destiny possess?

*

My moods are capricious

And easily spent

I have a cache of masks and scripts

That I might,

A seemingly different man make

In truth each role

Is but another incarnation

Of a self-serving orchestrator (ego)

For on the stage

I only partially exist

*

The soul

In heaven’s image remains

It is the ego

That through acceptance

One may change

Create not harems

Of delusion or avarice

Create not prisons

Of preference or prejudice,

Regard only what is

That you may express

Unobstructed

The divinity within

*

This is my response to Sunday’s prompt which is: “What can change the nature of a man?”

Thank You

thank-you-wallpaper

The way

Your smile leans

Against my heart,

Keeps me

From losing

Faith

*

The way

Your eyes

Wrap around

My words

Reminds me

That I am not

Irretrievable

Even

When

Fragmented

You lift me up

As though

I were whole

As though

I were weightless

*

I fail

Passively,

Defeat

Preceding

Endeavor

Your love

Is free

You are

The hope

That unlaces

My tragedy

The wind

That gathers

Me wild

From a serried

Earth

*

You made me

Believe

That I could be

Myself

Without inoculation

Or shame

You made me

Believe

That I could

Indite this muse

Even though

She scars on

Deliverance

Even though

I am too fragile

To unfold her

Wholly

*

This is my way of saying THANK YOU for the friendship, for the encouragement, for the faith =) You can use Mr. Linky to share your own Thank You poem to you readers, friends, or family or you can simply share a link to your blog generally or to any entry on your blog that you feel like sharing.  If clicking your icon doesn’t link to your blog please share your link below because I can’t find some of you,

Assent

Sam2

My heart pivots to the left

Inches toward your salted lips

Waste not your breath

On confession

My hands already grip

The coattails

Of your eccentricity

My dirty nails

Having dug so deeply

Into your sympathetic chest

Do not seek

To cross-contaminate

Remain love

As you are

I lie in our bed

Still but for the raised pulse reaped

From an artless moon

You collapse in waves

Tears unfastening slowly

Wounds stinging sweetly

In my excavated palms

All delusions are pardoned

You sort of get 3 today well they were tied in my mind. Can you tell I am in the mood to snuggle with hubbie.  This is a picture of my husband years ago being silly, he is such an innocent person and I think this picture shows it lol