stephanie-stonemerrick
American
I'm the mother of 5 and I'm returning to school this fall. About a year ago I embarked on the idea of writing a novel, something I've always wanted to do but never tried. I have written 10 chapters but am taking a break for the summer to make time for my kids. Poetry is my 1st love, although that too had fallen to the wayside for awhile. It's funny how things that make me feel the freest also make me feel the most insecure. Writing, motherhood, being a student...all of these things test me, tempt me, fulfill me, rock me and shape me. But without a shadow of a doubt they also scare the hell out of me. I have a difficult time exposing myself to public opinion, I'm probably not alone in that. To open myself up, tells me I have made progress. I hope to learn about things I've never heard of and read things that blow me away and take things from others that change my views and give me reason to challenge myself.
Smoke and mirrors instigate this
impressionable and naive as it seems
moments and pulses, sighs and moans
the softness of light in between
Move me slowly, turn the tide
pushing me endlessly toward the edge
a grip, a nudge, one well placed bite
a fountain in firey and ardent unrest
Kiss me deeply, steal my breath
fool me, tease me, close my eyes
lay long near me as day bows out
and shadows ink the skies
Move me steadily, with heat seared lips
run your hands in a forward rush
skim my hollows and thrusting arcs
I am the canvas and you, the brush
Sheets tangled, pillows strewn
the floor, the couch, the wall
pleasure rolls in wave after wave
***** and loud we call
Move me there, in rhythmic flow
focused in wordless breathy gasps
soaked and stained with sweat and flesh
in euphoric explosion of the mighty ******** crash
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 9:34 AM UTC
How dare you love me, without worry or doubt
Put me on the spot, praise me with your songs
I can't live up to your starshine and glittery expectations
I will surely fall from your pedastool and flatten my image
Let me stumble, crumble-be wrong, I do that so well
You have no idea where I come from, or what I can be
How I cry in the night or lash out at the ones who love me
The stains on my soul leave little room for others
Don't offer your earnest goodness, smelling of truth
Of sweet ginger and citrus when you hold me close
I deny my chemical reaction to your touch, I don't want it
The air between us crackles as you tell me you love me
It's not something I know how to return, I will hurt you
Rendering yourself vulnerable so I will learn to trust
But I will fall and fracture myself-revealing my imperfections
And you will be shamed in my wake
Lilacs sweeten the night although I'm sure to break your heart
Your lips tasting of mint and your arms snaked around my waist
I try to tell myself you're safe, even if I fall-I won't be alone
But I defeat myself, leaving you alone and your scent lingering
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 2:02 PM UTC
Oh paper, pristine and new-calling to me with a lover's trill
Each line waiting, inviting me to sully your pages with my ink
What words do I have to honor you with?
None today, none today
My pen, light in weight but heavy in mind-clearly wants to be used
Willing me to use its ink, strangle its pointed neck with raw ideas
Where is my creativity, to prove the tilt of its quill?
Far away, far away
A simple task, pen to paper-lending flow to my eager writer's hand
Seduction in a letter's curve, its power so often underestimated
Is there greatness here, waiting to be thrown into the light?
Perhaps not, perhaps not
And yet, my grip is firm about my pen-faith is the smallest of steps
My hand, steady over this paper-a patiently waiting vessel
Am I a writer without a song?
Not me, not me
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 3:26 AM UTC
Triumphant am I when I see you stumble
Impishly witnessing your short fall from grace
My ego is puffed up with your simple proof of humanity
Your hands flailing as your feet benignly betray you
Gathering my own importance close, I feed on your shame
I take frantic pleasure in your failure
My lungs inflated with harnessed laughter at your plight
I move closer-taking all of this in...my skin humming
My mind keenly focused on your suffering
I have no expendable sympathy for you
I register your cries-they dust my ears with echos
I won't offer you the help you so desperately need
Giddiness-crawling up; determined, hot in my throat
Tasting bitterly...suspiciously like the bile of my own flaws
Straining to recapture my ignorant bliss, my eyes root for you
Recognizing my self-reflection, I swat it away with a fervor
Swallowing, I clamp it there locked in place-I begin to choke
Questions of my own imperfections threaten to suffocate me
Who am I to relish in your demise, when I carry this stained heart
My hands tainted, anointed by the trembling of my secrets
With a wretched mind, denial forlornly guides my tongue
Flushing out the haphazard judgements I cast on you
As I stand here stricken by my will to desparage your choices
Am I not solely responsible for the poisonous kiss of my words
My shame mounts, my dignity absent in the wake of this purge
Standing exposed my arms in disconnect, legs lead and water
And then euphorically the words become less insistent, quieter
Slowly my throat releases, my gasping breaths regulate themselves
Realization settles in heavy but clear
Could it be when I am judging you, I'm truly critical of me
And if so, I am forced to wonder almost reverently...
Were you ever really here at all?
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC
I fastened my heart to your sleeve
I pinned my dreams to yours
For a moment in time you were mine
The sun & the moon keeping score
You lifted my hair with your breath
I told you my hideous truths
We laid side by side spent
Our hands fitting neatly as grooves
I'd have died for you over and again
Touch linking us stronger than words
Taken any hit of the fallen sword
Leveled my life for yours
What came before your firey touch
Where had the others gone
Little by little and one by one
Chased away by our twisted bond
Destructive, so often we'd clash
Pressed on by the blood we drew
Running to and away from our mess
Ever stirring our emotional rue
You hurt me with each plunge of your blade
But how I breathed you in
I fought for you, a jealous rage
No matter what the cost had been
Slowly we filled like blisters in the sun
Marching over the fields we'd broken
Thrashing and slaying in wrought desperation
Savage and ugly, the heinous words we'd spoken
Transparent as glass, we were done-finished-finally weaned
I felt you slipping and watched you ebb
Feeling severed from the limb that once had held my dreams
I took back my heart, dusting it off, quietly watching as you fled
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 4:43 PM UTC
I close my eyes blocking out the sun. Its warmth drenches me.
Slips its way around my quivering bones and flosses my joints.
I am not by any means a child of the sun; I like to be cool and shaded.
But today I welcome each beaming ray and feel my soul slightly connected.
The breeze lifts my hair and in doing so my spirit does gallop.
Winding in and out of each strand only to rest it again softly on my shoulders.
The grass is fragrant on the air and firm beneath my feet.
Each blade reminding me that I am planted. I am not floating.
In this exact moment I have substance and a core.
This time is precious and I cling with greed to each singular moment.
As they never last long enough for me.
And as they always do, the tides of my emotional balance turn and on those unpredictable currents the conflict begins.
I feel the hurt as it trickles in, between the light and the dark.
Slivers of delicate agony sluice through my harbored thoughts.
A cloud skitters in, masking the sun.
The politics of my life are diameterically diverse and their pressures do accumulate.
Tossing the tiniest of pebbles onto an already tremulous load feels like rocks gathering weight to become boulders as they settle in among the rest.
I teem with ideas of cutting loose, however solidly I am anchored to this life.
It's strange that I smile when the truth is I'm hurting, so crowded in by my thoughts.
I think if I don't smile I may just shatter into a million beaten pieces.
I'm scared to fall away, to flash my picture forward, to stay where I am, to move...even in the slightest.
I feel wretched and abandoned. I bastardize myself.
I can't let anyone in, what would they think if they knew that I'm distorted and repulsive?
Mirrors reflect my imperfections, announcing my shortcomings on sight.
My secrets fertilize my self destruction, they harvest my self hate.
Their crops are the thoughts that remind me of my shames.
Like the thorn of a rose, so I am to this life.
I blemish the idea of beauty and innocuously hold the power to inflict pain.
The sun has turned black; cooling my skin and locking up my muscles.
The wind has picked up and now screams in my ears.
The grass waxes brown, dying with each flickering pass of my eye.
My thoughts consume me, piercing me through and through. I lack, I repent, I fall short, I endure, I reach out, I stumble, I laugh, I sob, I cut, I dissolve, I exist, I rejoice, I cry out, I hurt, I fail, I accomplish, I love, I leave, I give up, I stay, I persevere, I relate, I fear, I stand, I fall, I manage, I crash, I burn, I balance.
But above all of this...I conquer, I bypass myself on this kaleidescope journey. I'm here. I'm alive. I am one more light on the water.
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 1:26 PM UTC
Peep show girl, bedroom goddess, ***** ***** gem
Stripped of nylons and grayed tweeds
Her hair wet from the hot, steamy shower
She smells of Sand and Sable and sweet strawberry conditioner
Her plump **** and full, swinging ******* the towel hits the floor
He likes her like this, soft and curvy, still damp
How she moves holds his attention, her lovely female power
Laughter bubbles in her throat, her eyes inviting him
Without hesitation he's seduced by the absence of words
He kisses her neck, just below the ear, he feels her softly sigh
Closer they move, closing the space, his body stretched & flushed
Hands in her hair, her scent mixing with his, he flows toward her
What she isn't; slim and angled, so satisfies him he revels in her
Her lushness stimulates him beyond the physical, heightens him
Here it is warm-here she is free-here she believes she is beautiful
They part, she glows and he smiles, she's still damp but from him
She tucks herself lazily into his side, he likes her like this too
Simple, lovely in sleep's repose...she is his, all of her, all of her
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC