Hi
Come with me
Will you
Tonight’s decision
May take two
See beyond the water
Within the stone
A dark black hole
Somewhere to be alone
Wondering
Could we go
Tis an adventure
Filled with surprise
Searching for answers
Many about life
Sacrifice
Determination
Strength
Loads of lessons
Clarity
Understanding
The other side, amazing
Better for the journey
A thrilling ride
Responsibility’s side
However, option number two
Sounds dreamy
I think so
Don’t you
Something steamy
Allowing us to breathe
I feel you touching me
First time
Head spinning
Over and over again
Means everything
Slow kissing
Tingling
Feathered hand
Across my breast
Nipple erect
My fingers lingering
On your chest
Yours upon my jaw
Minds losing a battle
Bodies answering a call
Falling into you
My hip feeling the heat
You commanding
Me submitting
This time
Our needs will decide
Reckless abandonment
Awakens from inside
Deep dark cave
Knows what we crave
The release of feelings
Saturday night
Finally
Tag Archives: Relationships
Come To Me
This poem was written awhile ago. Today I set it free:
I tried desperately
Visioning
You without me
Me without you
An unhappy ending
My one true act
Just to please you
It isn’t possible
Can’t you see
Screw all this suffering
My thoughts erratic
My pulse quickened
This heartbeat
Pounding
One touch
Exploding
Do you feel me
Man, I feel you
How can it be
Fate never failing
Always
Surprising me
If only I could show you
Come
Give me everything
Writing Process Blog Tour: How I Write
I was asked to be part of this week’s Writing Process Blog Tour by Sharon Bonin-Pratt. Under a simple description of being “Sparked by Words” she takes us through her writing process. Shari’s blog is everything sparked by words could possibly mean. She nominated Jacqui, Ilene and myself to share our writing process this week. I learned a lot by reading Shari’s post. Please, give yourself some time and read her blog. She truly has something to share.
When Shari asked me to participate, I simply lowered my eyes, nodded in agreement and said, “Yes, Ma’am.” I knew Shari and I would be friends early on. Shortly after reading that she and her husband live in a eucalyptus forest in Southern California, I thought, “There is such a place? Too cool.” Shari, one of my very first followers, has sat beside me through my first year of blogging as a true supporter. She is a friend, I thank her for believing in me, and for trusting that I have valuable experience worth sharing within our community.
Now, for the record, y’all, we’re about to read more words in one post than I’ve written in six months on Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister. I hope you make it to the bottom. Anything more than a hundred words is pushing it for my faithful crew, as I’ve trained them to believe that I am now a reflective poet. One who doesn’t have a need for this much explanation, but truth be told, I’ve loved writing this post. It’s been a nice break from 3,000 words a night for my book.
Part of this blog tour is nominating three bloggers to write a post on their own writing process. All three women accepted my nomination which delighted me, because I didn’t want to have to go begging door to door or blog to blog. I have enough desperation pouring out through my poetry. Look for individual posts by these three fantastic ladies on Monday, April 28. I chose these three women, because they have shown such amazing support, but also because they work hard to show their personal investment to their own writing journey. I can easily get behind that sort of determination. I respect their goals and encourage them to keep moving forward.
Heather B. Costa
My name is Heather B. Costa and I am an aspiring writer who one day hopes to have her own book published. I only began writing seriously just over 12 months ago and it has gone from being a hobby to a way of life.
I devote as much time as I can to learning my craft and developing my skills and I am now taking my first serious steps towards achieving my goals and becoming a published author in my own right.
Kate Loveton – Odyssey of a Novice Writer
Aspiring novelist. Avid reader of fiction. Reviewer of books.
By day, my undercover identity is that of meek, mild-mannered legal assistant, Kate Loveton, working in the confines of a stuffy corporate law office; by night, however, I’m a super hero: Kate Loveton, Aspiring Novelist and Spinner of Tales.
My favorite words are ‘Once upon a time… ‘
Won’t you join me on my journey as I attempt to turn a hobby into something more?
Stacilys – A God Coloured Girl in a Grey World
I’m just a simple girl that is passionate about being relevant and making a difference in this world.
World traveler, lover of bright sunny days, experiencing cultures, good friends and conversation. I love my God and love my family.
I don’t believe that I have the Truth, but that I have a relationship with Truth and want to be closer to Him.
Canadian, born and raised in Vancouver, BC. YWAMer since 2000 and have traveled and lived all over the world –Hong Kong, China, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Afghanistan, Turkey, Germany, Argentina, Australia and The USA.
I moved to Brazil in 2002, married an awesome “Baiano”, Daniel, and we have two adorable kiddies, Caue and Hannah.
I am certified in fitness and nutrition and conducted physical conditioning classes while working with an arts and evangelism team and schools. I am also certified in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) and TEYL (Teaching English to Young Learners).
“A God Coloured Girl in a Grey World” is my blog where I write articles based on my faith, post fitness routines, recipes and other health and wellness stuff. You can also check out a bit of my music at http://www.myspace.com/stacilys
Okay, we’re half way done. Defeated yet? I can now answer the four questions that come along with the writing tour. I’m pretty wordy, so let’s just get to it.
Four Blogging Tour Questions:
1. What am I working on at the moment?
I’m currently working on poetry, but more than that I’m working on being Audrey Dawn, the writer. Does that make sense? Are we okay with that being part of my writing process? Imagine spending years trying to be the person everyone thought you were, because it made them so happy. I put on a brave face every day and made everyone happy, happy, happy. I smiled, I laughed, I helped, I counseled, I encouraged, but I never cried, showed fear, admitted failure or said no. I’m currently working on doing everything I’ve never allowed myself to do publicly. Well, almost everything, gesh.
Releasing the control I put on myself has opened me up. It has created the poet I’ve always wanted to show. I was afraid of the emotion writing publicly would allow. The thought of people finding me too weak or sensitive has become less and less of a fear. My writing poetry, and allowing it to be read, has helped me work on myself. I have a few very loyal blogging friends who continue to push me to submit my poetry online. I am also writing a book, which I am extremely proud of at the moment. I’ve stayed quiet about my book writing. My inexperience in the writing world coupled with my lack of professional writing credentials created a fear of inferiority years ago. I can honestly say now that the voice is not winning. I feels fantastic.
I went to college to earn a degree in English, which was coupled with a creative writing emphasis, and topped off with a social science minor. What do you suppose I do with that? Live in a cardboard box reciting my poetry. I’m a few steps ahead of that actually, so I’m living the dream. Yeah, so that means I can write people well. I’ve studied them a long time. Have I allowed the writings out of my hands in order to succeed as a published author? No. This is the toxic voice in my head doing its best to discourage me. My followers have done a great job of overturning that voice this year. I am forever grateful for every word of criticism and encouragement I’ve received. My plans to prosper within the writing community has gained momentum.
The poetry I write is therapeutic. I have forgiven, loved, hated, longed, prospered, achieved, yearned and dreamed through healthy emotions, which I have had inside my soul all along. Very few I shared with anyone, because as a controller of myself, I chose to safe guard my heart from ever being let down. Sharing what I’m working on is a process I am currently battling, and winning. I think it shows through my poetry, as we all felt that fantastic love, then the desperation, and currently the recklessness of my protagonist, Amelia. I’ll be sharing my book with you soon. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.
2. Why do I write what I do?
Here I sit writing from a public library in Galveston, TX, after a rough night out on the town with friends. A quick bit of down time for me, as they do a little finishing up. Last night, a group of us ended the evening at a drag show. Yes, it was fantastically entertaining and an eye-opening experience. I was with one of my dearest friends and a few of her closest friends from college. One, of which, is trying to survive cancer. Her diagnosis is why they were all together this past weekend, and the reason they’ve been getting together every year since she was diagnosed. I began my evening humbled for being allowed inside their tight network. I watched how their communication flowed with ease. I am fully aware that it is the devotion to their friendship that has created their life long bond.
Watching them interact helped me to reflect on why I chose to start my blog, but more so, why I have switched gears and began sharing poetry. Experience, emotion and truth are what any solid friendship or relationship is built on. Correct? These are the universals to which we connect ourselves to others, I think. Consider it. The beauty of this is that we don’t even know the friendship has approached longevity, until relationship has arrived in full bloom, and we’re miles down the road of emotional investment. Then one day, we happen upon a cherished memory that proves our devotion to one another and seals our mutual bond. I write my feelings, because everything I’ve seen and read has in some way impacted my thoughts, emotions and my own life. I want to share my writing with a community of people who are investing in the writing process and in themselves .
3. How does it differ from others in the genre?
I am a performer, and I thrive on attention and feedback, but when I’m not in a crowd, I reflect a lot. I can go hours not chatting with anyone. Lost in a world of reading, writing, or visualizing its what I do. Currently, my blog differs from others of the same genre, because I am also teaching myself to be a better communicator. Truly, the only way my blog differs from others of this genre is by the timing of my emotions. One day you may identify with me wholeheartedly and feel a connection that could last a lifetime. The next day, you could hate my guts, so at best our relationship has a survival rating of about 50/50. Are you willing to take those odds? I totally am.
4. How does my writing process work?
My writing process has always been the same few steps. Yes, I’m a creature of habit. I have a very short attention span, probably an undiagnosed ADD and dyslexic issue from childhood. As an adult, I’ve adapted very well. I attribute that to my ability to speed read. There is no other way when you’re working with a short attention span, in my opinion. Music helps me focus on my task, so headphones are a must when I need to keep from becoming distracted. There’s also something to the light pressure I feel from having them on my ears. Headphones tend to center me. Yes, it could be a gravity issue, I hadn’t thought of it. I have found myself in a writing fever only to notice that I’ve had nothing playing through my headphones for hours. Yes, this really happens.
Before I get to that euphoric writing place, I visualize by staring off into white walls, usually as I’m doing this I haven’t written anything down. What I do find myself producing is pages of doodlings. Letters, numbers, pictures, shadings of light and dark images are all found decorating my pages before my writing begins. I’ve often considered posting my doodles along with my poetry or stories just to see if anyone could enlighten me on my perfected madness. Yes, I’m completely comfortable admitting that this process of mine can’t possibly be normal. Tell me if it is, please. After about thirty minutes of warm up, my mind calms and everything I’ve held inside for the day pushes itself out.
I know, phew, that was rough. What I have found, in all seriousness, is that if I do not sit down to write everyday I become ridden with anxiety over how quickly I can clear my schedule so I can write. This is an awesome feeling inside of a dramatic setting, because I want to write and share my thoughts with you. I’ve never wanted to freely share my writing or what my mind is thinking. Not without feeling like an attraction at the zoo, anyway. My friends, this is something I would have never thought possible a year ago. My writing process is alive and well.
An Argument – Part 2
“Take the blindfold off, my dear!”
“Just a minute. Not much further now. Step…step…step…oh, wait! Knees, up. Okay, step…step…step…steeeeppp.”
“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you? These don’t feels like true steps I’m walking on, Ma’am.”
” Well, they are, Mister!”
“I’m slowly losing my patience, Lady..”
“Relax. We’re here. You used to be more fun, you know?”
“Here! Take this dumb cloth. *looking around* What? You’ve got to be joking…”
“What’s the matter?”
“We’re at the park. Not the quilt and the clouds again! You tricked me! I knew those weren’t real steps I was climbing.”
“Oh, just lay down on the quilt, you old goat. We have fighting to do.”
“I want to begin by saying that I am not looking for anything in those clouds today. Rats, I say, to all elephants!”
“This is where we do our best thinking, my dear.”
“No, this is where you bring me to try and change my mind. I recall this spot, and our discussion perfectly. We fought my dear.”
“Now quit! I think this time we’ll be more productive. Have some faith. ”
“We are never productive, my sweet.”
“Yes we are! Why just yesterday we agreed on naming our slug. I say bravo for that feat. Wouldn’t you, Sir?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember back that far.”
“You don’t remember yesterday, but you can remember the spot where we first fought?”
“Well, yes, so it seems…”
“How romantic, Dear. ”
“No, I call that self perseverance. ”
“How’s that?”
“One should remember their way around a battlefield.”
“This quilt, my mother made, is not a battlefield…!”
“Wanna bet, Hun?”
I think these two have a story to tell. We’ll be checking back in with them from time to time.
Their first discussion can be found here, if you’d like to read their first fight.
I know its wordless Wednesday. What does that even mean…
Happy Anniversary (Sexual Content)
Yep, Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister is a year old today!! I received my seal from them last night. I was aware the anniversary was approaching, but I’m shocked at how I feel now that WordPress has validated me. Tearful, I suppose. A huge thank you for reading this blog, my friends. I am humbled by your encouragement and love. Thank you for pushing me to try harder.
This year has been amazing. I have found so much joy in creating each post. I am grateful for every word that has been written. I’m thankful you have read and enjoyed my simple thoughts. I’m also thrilled that so many of you have stuck with me the entire year.
I remember being content and satisfied over my first follower. I could have stopped right then and there, actually. Now, there are over a thousand of you. Do you know what that does to me? You could push me over with a feather, as I reflect in amazement.
Thank you for allowing me to sit amongst all of you and for letting me to grow beside your creativity. It has truly been an honor and a privilege.
Now, in thanks and celebration I give you a quick short story. This is also the fruition of a promise I made to myself, a fulfillment of sorts, to push myself out of my box. To show, who I am as a writer, all in the name of romance and love.
How the anniversary night of two people madly in love should start out, I believe.
Enjoy! Love and best wishes towards your creativity today,
~ I love you~ Audrey
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
“Hey, Baby. Did you make that chocolate cake for me?” He asked with skeptical seduction in his eyes, while standing in the doorway of the exposed kitchen.
“Welcome home, Love. Yeah I did, for our anniversary, actually. I know you’ve been working hard all week on your deadline. I thought I would attempt to do something nice. Maybe we could just stay in tonight?”
He watched her stare down at the floor, while folding a towel. Simply a prop, he realized, to mask her true thoughts and needs. His head jerked up in surprise, as his body became aware of her pulse, “What? You thought I forgot, didn’t you?”
“No, honestly, I just wanted tonight to be quiet. Relaxing.” She loved when he nodded at her, as if all-knowing and fierce.
“I know you better than that, I think,” he warned, while slowly walking towards her side of the kitchen. The smell of candles burning tickled his senses, but those were more for her than him. He loved her delicate desires.
With her heart producing a vibration strong enough to be heard, she backed up against the oven, which was still warm. Her phone rang.
“Let me answer this call. It could be important,” she said. Her glowing features revealing too much excitement, as he immediately narrowed the distance between the two of them.
Her needy eyes were forced to look into his, as he grabbed her by the waist, “No, you’ll stay right here.” He took the phone from her trembling hands, and threw it against the exposed brick wall of their studio. There was absolutely no need for that mundane distraction when he was home. He’d easily replace the iPhone tomorrow.
“Yes…okay,” she replied desperately while taking a deep breath in, and allowing it to escape slowly through her quivering bottom lip.
“Now, answer me again. You made this moist cake right here for me, didn’t you, Darling?”
She watched him place his finger into the center of the warm cake, and slowly draw his creamy finger back out. Circling the frosting lightly before pushing it in a second time, pausing as he searched her body’s reaction. She closed her eyes, as the sensations took over any control she had left, “Yes, I did. I made the cake.”
“For me! Say it was made…for me!” He forced out, while probing her lustful eyes. Insistent that she claim him with her admission, he stood strong.
“The cake is for you,” she whispered, as four of his fingers found rest on either side of her jaw.
“It’s all mine?” He interrogated, while placing his middle finger in her mouth. He knew she loved chocolate. He loved nothing more than watching her beautiful face light up with passion.
“All yours,” she forced out. Her tongue and lips readily sucking his finger clean.
He looked around the tidy kitchen, and then quickly picked her up and placed her on the glass stove top. Heat attacked her favorite blue jeans instantly, and it swiftly advanced towards her already tingling skin.
“Stove, hot?”
“Umm, hmm,” she moaned softly.
“Look at me!”
Her yearning eyes found his in a rush, “Yes.”
“I prefer my cake and my lady warm, you know.”
She sighed voluntarily, knowing it would only lead to trouble.
He reacted by confidently pulling her arms above her head and back towards the tile behind her with speed. The act allowed for a perfect arch, created by her body and his resistance. This made him very happy. Breasts up and out, effortlessly standing for his attention.
“Don’t take your eyes off of mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she blinked. Then she blinked again, because she knew she could get away with a little teasing. The act allowed for his continued frustration with her. Parting her lips, she allowed a brief laugh to leak out.
With one hand holding her arms over her head, he used the other to gently grab her neck. Coaching his thumb to begin allowing pressure to her lovely throat. Just enough force that she knew he was in complete control of her. His calloused hand was shaking with need, yet easily reacting to her mind’s desire.
He breathed quietly. Calming his urges to rip her clothes off, he silently reminded himself of the process she prefered. He thought of her need to play. To dance in a submissive rhythm. He would be the harsh and dominate man she needed, while his insides weakened in her presence.
Her submitting eyes continued to stay on his, however, she made a quick move to pull herself closer to the heat he was radiating. Wrapping her legs around his waist she confidently gathered him inside her thighs. His face above her concealed breasts, yet close enough that he could see her excitement, as he looked down and into her shirt. Her arms over her head, him between her legs and their eyes locked inside each other, as they slowly progressed towards love’s wild and promised passion.
Oh, how he loved the look of her body in this position. In a low moan he finally spoke, “I will kiss you now however I want, wherever I want, then I’m going wish you a Happy Anniversary. Enjoy this tender act, because after, I’m going to lay you down across this cold counter. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my love, I understand…”
“May you never leave me…”
His lips hard and demanding. Her lips longing and ready. Passion igniting over their love story.
*** *** ***
Thanks for entertaining my creativity this Friday morning. Have a wonderful and productive day.
Blessings ~ Audrey
Love’s Umbrella
Protective covering,
Found under an umbrella.
Cloaking two people,
A lady and a fella.
Lost within a street full;
Barely a notice;
Eyes for each other,
Devoted focus.
Approaching quickly,
My eyes shy.
This is their time,
Watch them pass by.
Hear their exclusive music,
Linger in my mind.
Notes float up,
My heart aches for you and I.
Their eyes connected;
Not a wink or a blink,
Allowed for isolation.
Desire,
Love’s obsession.
Trying not to stare:
How do we get there?
Lavender
Your Lady
She chooses who she’ll be
Powerful
Meek
A conformer
Unique
A woman is born to dream
A soft skinned girl on her terms
Rough and edgy when she’s protecting
She’ll make you laugh
You’re on top of the world
When she brings you to your knees
Reflections are seen
Her power lives, there’s no denying
She loves you hard
She feels safe
On top of the world
A life you’ll create
Stand beside you, fists drawn
Planted in front, protecting your cause
Even behind you, for her faith
One she believes twas God to create
Behind doors she’s all yours
Treat her like royalty
You’ll forever be her King
Shoot her your infectious smile
She’ll give you anything, heart’s desire
Shy eyes sparkling
Or run to you craving
Agreeing to fulfill your need
Consuming
Just Don’t Ask Me How I Am
Can I offer the holding of my hand?
Just don’t ask me how I am
I’ll let you kiss my lips.
Just don’t ask me how I am
You can touch me from here to there.
Just don’t ask me how I am
Is it sex you want?
Just don’t ask me how I am
I’ll scream your name during our love-making.
Just don’t ask me how I am
Call me when you’re lonely, I’m okay with that, too.
Just don’t ask me how I am
(See, I told you. 😀 ) Less talk. More action. That’s who this woman is in all walks of life. A woman who isn’t great at communicating. ..an enigma, of sorts, I guess you could say.
Heart’s Anticipation
Hearts break
Created for more
Than keeping us alive
The powerful organ
Innocently sitting
Beating
Yet, actually
Guarding
Anticipating
Each arrival
Life’s disappointments
Possible dream shattering
Inevitable realizations
Of real human behavior
Infidelity
Dishonesty
Silence
Alive
Breathing
Sending the final punch
Had the heart been waiting
Sensing struggles all along
Disaster coming
Forcing
Protection
Sending out low voices
Always
A mind choosing to ignore
Does the heart forsee
The size of the breaking
Afterwards
Is it even a possibility
It will heal
Provide the ultimate
Forgiveness
Questioning
Why it should
Stay a prisoner
For good
On Sad Days
The tears I cry
Contain your name
I miss you
No denying
In an effort to feel
I wipe my tears
You ignite me
Proving sickness
Lurking
Questioning
Why we’re alone
Magnifying
Worlds apart
Universe
You sicken me
You sense
My need
I witness
Creativity
All around
Yet offering
No, allowing
Darkness
Denying me
His smile
His mind
Alone
Searching comfort
In sweet bottled
Bottomless
Consequence
Understanding
Provides
An awakening
Creating hope
One day
Our beginning
A Letter
I ran today. I ran as far as these long legs would take me. Over hills, through busy streets and even through water, I ran. I still couldn’t hide my thoughts of you. Climbing the hills wasn’t easy. Every mountain I’ve had to climb recently, for you, is to blame.
Energies spent keeping myself together to look pretty and talk honestly was time wasted on you. Each moment I felt like walking made me push through, because I still hear your words telling me I’ll never do. Never be good enough, yes, this may be true, but I will always choose to disagree.
When I returned from my journey a shower I craved. Not you, a shower, I know that disappoints your power, strong man. I tried to allow the hot water to ease my pains. Relax the muscles I’ve already gained by running from you. I scrubbed the smell of the energy I spent on you off my body, I found myself, focusing on my face.
I hate each freckle placed on my skin. They won’t come off no matter how much I scrap. I blame you. You didn’t see this flawed skin as beauty, only as a redheaded cutie. Oh yeah, my hair, your favorite part, you prefer it long this I know. So do I, but I cut it short, yes this was my way of controlling you.
Unfortunately, the act of cutting my hair short became a conquest for you. One you loved to defeat. I never liked how owning you felt, so I allowed my curls to grow long once again. Feeling relieved that I, finally, felt like me. I regret not telling you that it was all for not.
When I dressed today it wasn’t for you. I’ll admit, recently it had been my motovation. Which set of concealment for under my clothes would I have wanted to reveal for you, if the opportunity found me. I chose the top to match the bottom, often black and mostly lace, never because I liked the feeling. Always for you, in hopes that you’re dreaming of me.
Not today, I dress for me I can’t imagine caring about what you need. This is for me, you know, what I chose to conceal my breasts in today. The fabric is soft and it soothes me.
I am a woman.
I choose what’s best for me.
I know you like these black boots, but so do I. I’ve always worn them for me. Never for you, that’s the best part of my story. When you thought I was under your impression, silly boy, in truth wearing these boots made me feel free. I got my way. The leather is soft and I prefer it, so the jokes on you. I liked keeping it that way. Yes, same with my jeans. Damn, they look good on me.
Ha! I can sense your need to scream. Too bad you’re so far away. I’m sitting here pretty and confessing. I concur, the blue jeans sit well on me. I am a woman. You can’t decide for me, if I choose to be sexy then that’s all on me. I score the points, take the heat, you don’t receive any of the rewarding.
My desire to write this today should create pride inside of me. I sound so strong and proud of where you’ve left me. The problem is that it was I who left you. Not the other way around, yes, this will come as quite a shock.
I push everyone away. Silly boy. Stupid boy, I’m sorry. You can’t chain me in. Yet, you never really tried. I’m wild. I’ve been a pawn for love before. My pain owned me. I won’t ever go back. I spent my childhood locked inside craving love. What I learned there was that no one proved they were worth all of me.
Protect me, first, I must. No one has the power needed to break me. Giving of myself, well, weakness of the worst kind. A strong man willing to fight, he may not exist.
You think you can ride me? I’ll knock you down. I have perfect timing. Stay clear and walk to the side. You’ll never be inside this mind. Enjoy me when I’m on display. I know you crave my laughter and pleasing ways. Relish them when you can, because they never stay. I warned you. Eventually, you listened. Now you’re a pile of rubble. I blame myself. You’re a good man. I’m a beast. Run from me.
I ran today to out run you. I think it’s clear now. I run to run away from me, too.
I’m broken. And I love you.
Celebrate Women ~ We’re Complicated
A Conversation
Hey
Hey
***
How are you?
Great. How are you?
Great.
Okay
***
You there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
***
How was your day?
Good. Yours?
Good
***
You there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
***
Wanna talk?
Yeah.
Good
***
You there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
***
Anything special you want to talk about?
No, you choose.
Okay
***
You still there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
***
It’s so quiet.
Yeah, it’s nice being here with you.
Okay
***
You still there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
***
I hate your phone.
Why?
You’re holding it.
You make me laugh.
***
You still there?
Yeah, I’m here.
Okay
Listen
Someday, I hope I find clarity in my poetry writing. Lately, I don’t feel I have any control. For now, I will continue to write this unrecognizable voice. I’ll send the words out here for you to view. Create a picture. It’s all I can do. It’s all I have been doing. It’s all that is being allowed through to paper. All I see are words floating. I try to catch them. Create.
Finally home
Golden door knob twists
A slight push by the hip
The door: it opens
The sound of vacuumed air released
Her hand goes directly to the lamp
One she’s never seen
How comfortably she pulls the string
Her keys take to the table
Similarities liken to a movie scene
Pinky finger pulls at the straps
Slipping off her heels
Ahh , she savors the feeling
Wiggly toes go pitter pat
Down a dim hallway
Cherish the puzzlement
Where could he be
Light music playing
Feast smells spicy
Carefully she lets her hair free
Wondering what will he think of me
She makes the final turn
Stopping to witness
She continues unnoticed
Standing in awe
A quiet thunder heard
Towards him she goes
Left with no choice
It’s always been him
The universe sighs in relief
Ahh, we’re finally happy
Shaking arms
Distrustful eyes
The confidence of a Tigress wild
Anticipation has ceased
Standing behind him
Body heat
Stop your hands – just breathe
Exhale
This is what it feels like to be free
Mouth the words – thank you
The least you can do
See that vein in his neck
Pulses red blood through, for you
Imagine what he’s been feeling
Dreaming of you
Take ownership of his heart
Accept him for who he is
Make no promises
He may break your heart, too
Dive in, remember he’s worth it
Feel your heartbeat
Rest assured, his beats like thunder, too
Notice his hesitation
He feels you near
Make your move, never fear
Hands slide from behind to the front
Feel that
The beat of his love; pure devotion
Lean into him; ear to his back
Smell his scent – musk
Relax, a picture of true love
Hey, Baby
Hey, You
I didn’t think you’d ever get here.
I’ve been searching everywhere.
Was it the traffic?
No, just a lot of wrong turns, then there was spinning.
You will be pleased, no more wrong turns.
No wrong turns? I cannot imagine.
I’m here for you.
As I shall be, for you.
Let me lead…
I’ve never been allowed.
A man is all I know how to be.
A lady, then, I will become for thee.
Feel his pull as turns to face you
Search his eyes for the first time
Believe it’s him
Accept his power
Join forces
Allow yourself
Happiness
(I hope this story suits you, Sisters. It was the only story that was allowed out. A lot swarming inside this brain. In other news, my book is coming along well. I hope this story brought you some emotion. Not as much of a tragedy after all. That is an improvement, I’d say. I will keep trying to write a perfect love story. One loaded with tragedy. Our story.)
An Argument
A patchwork quilt spilled out and into a square. They fall into the covering and onto their backs.Two bodies side by side, together a powerful sight. Smiling eyes release their connection and turn upwards. Lost and gazing into a blue sky. White clouds overhead billowing, yet raging by. Arms pulled up and over their heads. Hands create sole pillows for their minds to find rest. Locked thoughts and desires just moments from notice or truth. With a bit of timing a mood changer created instead:
“Tell me of your life,” she whispered.
“There’s too much to recall, my dear.”
“Explain the cruelties of life, then. Start with why now and not twenty years sooner.”
“I can’t explain life, really. The fact is, my sweet, we aren’t allowed to question destiny.”
“Destiny? Is that what this is?”
“Now, look at that cloud!” he points upwards and across her chest.
“You mean the one over there that looks like an elephant,” she entertains.
“Elephant? I say, mountain.”
“Clearly, it’s an elephant!”
“Now, relax. Quickly, before the shifting begins, look again. See? Mountain…” he encourages.
“Maybe you could explain why you see a mountain and I see an elephant?”
“The explaination not as easy to believe, I fear. I’d like to see an elephant. I’m a believer in elephants. Alas, the cloud above us is a mountain strong and true.”
“So, you don’t want to see my elephant? You’d rather focus on your mountain?”
“Arguably, it isn’t as simple as what we see when laying here together.”
“I think it is. You don’t want to see my breathing elephant. You’d rather continue to view the cold hard mountain.”
“What is that supposed to mean? The elephant you see isn’t alive. It is a cloud passing by in the sky.”
“I think we both know what I mean!”
“Hmm!”
“I like laying here with you, though. It’s nice having a chat,” she exhaled.
“Yes, we should consider how to achieve more of that.”
“This…you mean. Achieve more of this…chatting.”
“No, I meant the disagreeing.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Ahh, it seems, you push me to look for elephants.”
“And I for mountains, my love…”
Happy Valentine’s Day
The day is here and the end of my love poems. I enjoyed finding a way to express love in many forms. I’m leaving you with my thoughts today. A romantic will always live in my heart, but these feelings can wear a girl out. Is only one day needed to express yourself? No, I don’t believe so. Valentine’s Day really doesn’t do it for me, but this…this does:
Fresh flowers in a vase, no.
I’d rather a chance to smell your cologne.
Stand close to me.
Red candles to illuminate the dark, no.
I prefer your honesty and trust to shepherd.
Lead me.
Sweet chocolate on my lips, no.
I’d rather your thoughts and dreams pouring to soothe me.
Show me.
An array of jewels for my body, no.
I prefer deep notes which sing to me of your soul and rob me of my fears.
Stay with me.
Expensive toys to keep up with, no.
I’ll take a secluded journey and your adventurous spirit to guide me.
Take me.
Who you are and want us to be is all I’ll ever need.
The Week For Love
The week for love
Souls lost in what to do
The week for love
They may write for you
The week for love
Love believes in truth
The week for love
One could easily love you
The week for love
Prepare your open heart
The week for love
It may come for you
A Conversation With A Girl – Part Two
Kyle sized up his surroundings and walked towards the bar. There were two older gentlemen, deep in conversation, and sitting at the end. One was drinking black coffee. Kyle watched the steam float up as the bartender placed a cup down in front of a man. A man she obviously new well. It was the reassuring way she touched his swollen and aging hand. The man’s confidant was holding a short class with mostly ice inside. Kyle had seen his father’s associates holding glasses like that one. Typically, while in deep discussion, as well. The bottom of the glass had once held a layer of whiskey, he’d bet. The man looked to have had a few of them. Continue reading
A Conversation With A Girl
“Well, it could have gone differently, I believe, but seeing how well it’s turned out, I’d say she dodged a bullet.”
Idiot. What did he know anyway, ‘how well it’s turned out’, give me a break!
His tires barked as he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. Requesting the song, he shouted out to his car and flipped the volume way up. He wanted that song now! The music quickly started and everything his father had said began to drown out. Finally, now it didn’t matter where his car took him. His pulse began to lessen.
Turning left or right wasn’t his concern, frankly he couldn’t give a damn, as long as he put distance between them. Continue reading



