dream of reason
slow lullaby worries
every lie is still raw,
but the kind of way
the blood will boil
spurring heated cheeks and frantic **********
the sucker punch of arousal intensifies
anchored by her
made out? [laughs]
kiss each other, hug
tongue each other and
it looks good on ****
but nothing prepares you for the real thing
the shakiness
when crazy, fun and naked
is just waiting to happen
and mixing it with soul,
"with you"
a view of the world that cannot be found anywhere else
inches closer and
by nailing each other
"by looping a silk scarf around my neck"
there was more intense connection to
the body
like stepping into a magical world
bigger than life
grounding the highs and lows of your senses
constantly engaged.
make love that stays
taste the details in their own skin
the whole room shaking So We Can Remember
"you come first"
"i know a lot of people will say, 'well
some of the most memorable moments of your life will happen
with people you don't know in places you have never been.'
'someone who's happy gives the best pleasure'"
and i know
to 'Know Better'
(and live without. . .
acid tongue and biting bliss)
will scale new heights
But nothing would be incredible
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
if i wrote about winter
on the back of a starbucks menu
with coffee stains and coffee smells,
would you feel the snowflakes
miniature yet icy
bite your reddened cheeks and outstretched tongue?
if i sung about early-morning autumns
in the steamy hot shower
echoing in the long empty hallways
would you see the grey mist that cloaks the streets
wispy threads of fall-season cloud
and the yellowing of the leaves?
if i carved against a smooth surface
about lazy summer blue skies
and the warmth of the sun
would you hear the intense crash of
each wave against the rocks
and the excited shrills and laughs and chattering
at the beach?
if i painted on a blank canvas,
patiently waiting for the picture to conjure,
about chilly spring breezes
and the foggy spring rain
murmuring of what's to come
would you smell the fragrant
dainty flowers that grow by abandoned houses
or from dew-strewn grasses on the park
or the post-rain forest earth?
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air
slow and steady like time was waiting
for him to catch up
with weathered leather jacket and rough unshaven jaw
bright eyes that couldn't have been more
distant than ever
he's been gone since
bitter resentment
blind nostalgia for the old gal he used to have
she didn't know
commitments and conferences kept her away
her future secured with a pinch of surety
like a caterpillar in a cocoon
ready to bat its wings away
while he had his walking around aimlessly
struggling to find permanence in anything
convinced himself that he was free and footloose
but satisfaction all short-lived
mostly found late at night in rundown motels and crowded bars
it's hard to keep your eyes open
when missed opportunities close in on you
he's drowning in a sea of disappointment
or was it the liquor?
everyone calls him No-Hope and he thinks so too
but still he wouldn't let go
and be carried away in the current
like the rest of the faceless, countless No-Hopes like him
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC