Between Midnight and 3am    1986 -   
Sea salt and tentacle love letters scatter into my aromatic wind like snowfall in the artic. Prevalent. Soft, sweet layers of flowery smoke linger in my midnight lungs. Dark secrets revealed here. Passions unleashed. Blood, bone, twisted thoughts and wet, saturated desire await the prying support of your curious eyes. Come hither...


These ink bled lines
Are not your's
They are mine
Do not steal from me
Or with hook and anchor
At the bottom of my sea you'll be
Copyright Brook Ilges {1996-Present}
Sea salt and tentacle love letters scatter into my aromatic wind like snowfall in the artic. Prevalent. Soft, sweet layers of flowery smoke linger in my midnight lungs. Dark secrets revealed here. Passions unleashed. Blood, bone, twisted thoughts and wet, saturated desire await the prying support of your curious eyes. Come hither...


These ink bled lines
Are not your's
They are mine
Do not steal from me
Or with hook and anchor
At the bottom of my sea you'll be
Copyright Brook Ilges {1996-Present}
  Reposted by Brook  ·  1 hour ago
Petal pie
Petal pie
3 hours ago      2 hours ago

As I close my eyes
my senses know no bounds
my body becomes weightless
and my joyful song resounds


I try to find my bearings, and
I hold on to myself.
I've never put someone so close;
My self upon a shelf.

Every fiber of my being
has room to stretch and grow
my steps spring forward lightly
and my smile is wide, aglow!


So come unto me, siren.
Give me room to grow and fall.
Sing for me a beacon; silly boat
Is sinking slow.

I swim to you in haste
my hair flowing wild and free
and water courses around my limbs
as minnows accompany me.


And so we're freed by water,
Unalone and unafraid.
Need no more one breath to take,
Nor single blessing said.

With thanks to the wonderful Sverre for collaborating with me! :)
My lines are in slanted italic, Sverre's are  manly and upright! x
heres a link to his page http://hellopoetry.com/sverre-g-holter/
Brook
Brook
5 days ago

I write you out
Give voice to the silence
I would talk about it out loud
An injustice though, for those unfamiliar
With loss
You hear the words
But do not feel them
Cradled arms hold close and tight
To memories full of soul deep and light
You brought so much joy
Jeremiah
Your name still feels whole on my lips
Life is always a stage
Some would say yours was a tragedy
I know better
An epic drama full of love, adventure
Comic relief
When the despair becomes unbearable
That is what I cling to
My oasis amid drought
A light house beaming bright
During storms raging against rocky shores
I'm still afloat with our laughter
I'm still afloat

Brook
Brook
5 days ago

Mourning
Has washed over but it's swelling tide
Does not ebb
Each day dawns in brightness
Many things for which I thank
Surrounded by love, by comfort
Yet even the weight of your arms fall short
This sadness has become a sickness
For which there is no cure
The rose tinted frames I wore before
Are now shadowed
The sun still shines
Birds singing
But it's always raining in my head
Leaking out to form rivers
From where I spring in cathartic feeling
Healing is no process
It is a journey
One that I will follow through this life into the next

Your loss sits unnatural in my chest. Though your weight may be gone from this world, I am left with the heaviness of your leaving.
Brook
Brook
6 days ago

There is no loss
Between the palms of our joined hands
Nervous dew turns strong holds slippery
I did not wait for you to walk away
To let my heart fall
The tender fountain of my youth
Slowly drying as days pass
Not wanting to let go
I hold tight, regardless of our sweat
Keeping you by my side

Brook
Brook
7 days ago      7 days ago

There is kinetic energy
Shaping around you and me
Lengthening our edges of
Passion's high held ledges

Brook
Brook
Jul 11

Nature has deemed fit to bless the female form with monthly...troubles
Once taboo to speak of
Many grew up ignorant of their own blood
Only that it's purpose signified
Their readiness to be sacrificed
Lower than cattle, owned, bartered
A son meant continuation of line, of name
A woman was an acquisition
Nothing more
Many a young maid, trembling on her wedding night
Forced to open her heart, her virgin body
To a man, hopefully gentle
That she had only just met
Let alone speak to
A groom preferred his bride
Meek and mild
Untouched by even her own hands
To know pleasure was to be a wanton
Nothing pure could be so passionate
When our very nature dictates us to be so!
Society views our struggle as
"Having come a long way."
How reprehensible to say such a thing
When we are still victimized
Underpaid
Objectified
The media flaunts only those
That are deemed "beautiful"
When in fact all of us radiate
For we are governed by the moon
Our very sex harnessed by her silvery pull

No wonder  ladies get such a bad rap for being over-emotional.
Brook
Brook
Jul 10

You may not know me
You may know me a little more than you'd like
Sometimes even I do
A few things upon first meeting
You will notice
I have intense eye contact
I laugh easily
I was aptly named, babbling
You will walk away thinking
Smiling softly to yourself
"That girl channels joy."
I hope to leave every life I touch that way, full of hope
Come soak up the remains
You may never have to know of the scars beneath
I do my best to hide them
Often failing
Pleasure is universal
Spread the love
But pain...pain is private
My dirty laundry
Perhaps I never learned how to numb it
Pain is only relevant if it still hurts

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment