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the wind's whisper was
a romance of sound

satin sheets
shifting
softly
sliding
between her legs
with each gentle tug of his
her marble skin was the rapture
of his innocence
and the oarsmen
of his temptations
rowing him along
toward her
between her nubile legs

and he felt
for once
not like an invader
a Viking
a barbarian
trudging over the mountains
with lust arming his flesh
for the takings to
come

no

he felt
like a father
dutiful

yet also
like a son
respectful - obedient

yet truly, he was
her lover
who had mastered her platonic whims,
sacrifices, and conditions;
earned her trust
earned her surrender
and her, his
and her, his undying, unabashed love
devotion
humility
honor
reciprocal instincts
romantic intuitions
senses of guardianship and homage
faith...

for, he felt stronger
bedding her this day
than any woman before her
stronger
than any promise of affection
any kiss
any trust

for, she had conquered him
passionately
patiently
enduringly, with love
convincing him - resoundingly
that her heart was solely HIS

for that day,
with her inviting him into her womb
that was the start of their honeymoon
the firmament
the consummation
of their oath to love
and eternity
humanity

with no remorse for their matrimonial union...
no fear
no sorrow
no misery
no end
I wrote this as a Twitter poem last year, on the 28th of December.

Enjoy!

DEW
  Sep 2024 Darren Edsel Wilson
Syomone
What made
us so beautiful
Is that we
were never
likely to happen,
And here we are;
Pretending
to be oblivious
To the obvious
love waves
Bouncing back
and forth
Between
our hearts
This thing
Is a never
ending start...
Where the moments
we are meant to share,
Are carelessly
forced apart.
shattered
torn asunder
in the maelstrom
the churning
of colliding seas
how we
were tsunamis
cast from foreign worlds
towering o'er star-crossed shores
devouring civilizations
those were my dreams

and there
with light eclipsing the sun
were angels
whilst God commanded
who should be saved
and who would meet
their end
by the maws
of the surging grave
the tides if death
the vengeance we partook o'er evil
to sap the fires
of the cannibals' cauldrons
of the wicked witches' works
of the devil's deed scouring the lands of innocence
tilling world for harvests of souls
God warred with fury
with wrath untold
with heaven's war cries raging, bold
I saw the towers
fall as dominoes
shrieks of villainy
soups of human flesh spilled,
feasts ruined in droves
and I ne'er wept so poorly
ne'er kissed the ground so humbly
watching the world overturned in its savagery
by change so indomitable
by goodness so gracious

but I had
as all children do
given up my dreams
of being heroic
of being a champion
for justice
was God's alone

I gave up my visions
of power unassailable
of justice that trounces reprisal
of vengeance beyond sin,
I gave it all up to God
to a victor
who is more
than a conqueror
to a being
who is love incarnate
whose surrender
is destruction loosed upon the wicked
whose mercy
touches only those who art cleansed
of their murderous hearts
and their chaotic whims

I gave up my power
to the redeemer of all who art redeemed
and to the devils I say,
woe betide those who consort
with the fallen one
whose days shall no longer be numbered
when the gates of damnation
close in upon him
and open again
no longer...
My dreams of salvation from the hell we are making of our worlds and our lives...
ankle deep
I strode
through the memory
through the horror, of waking

up, from the depths of my knowing,
into the realms of my understanding,
conjuring tempests of fear
my heart
wailed in terror
ankles snagging every root
I was snared,
sneering
snapping at the world
hoping I'd find the sense of peace
where your innocence was lost
where your heart bled alone,
in the wildernesses, of time

the crossroad
was empty
but surrounding
were the totems
wolf head, vulture head
rat head, fox head
python head, jaguar head
hanging from their maws
the souls of the dead
and there,
your soul
betwixt the union
our destiny
our annulled embrace
I bore my soul for yours
risked my eternity to be the raft of your own
to be your driftwood
your belly of the whale,
your captain of survival
your eagle o'er head, watching for danger

and yet,
truly you were my savior
how your kiss was never on my lips
but in my heart
in my thoughts you loved me like no other
strode me as a victor
winning my honor with your passions
tempting me with dreams of moons
where honey flows thick as melon dew
cream of the gourd,
pouring into your womb, your sacred desires
your arid climes of keeping
burrowing into your hollow trunk
into your belly, nourishing your will to hold me
to tame my fears of abandon
and trust my every touch,
running down your cheek with a feather's grace
my finger tracing the goosebumps you can't hide
the embarrassment of pleasures simple
yet overwhelming
gentle... yet deep

I touch you in my heart as a promise
a lover's wish that you live eternally
that we may meet in paradise
for, in this life, I never knew you
never held you

I will never
make love to you,
but,
I've filled your immotal womb with my doweries
storing every day we'd spend together
in a perfect life,
where, if we'd only saved each other,
from the monsoon
that swelled in the cascade,
the tearfall,
of the knowing
that we never said,

"I do."
I wrote this with a woman in mind.

Someone who has been one of the few women I've admired in my life whose personal glow, seductive charm, ****** allure, artistic spirit, and celebratory persona has captivated me repetitively, although I only know her as a model and acquaintance, not a close friend.

With my health as it's been for so long, and my sociability being at an all-time love, I've been single for the past 14 years and celibate for the past 5 years.

Being a fan of women only, who provide their services as purveyors of digital, ****** indulgences, has been my only means of keeping to myself and not suffering the ache of venturing to sail the seas of dating that have, truly in my time, convinced me never end well and never shall as I'm decidedly, and experientially, undatable.

I've come to a point of acceptance on the matter, and to no longer feel shame that I'm definitively incompatible with most if not all partners past, present, and future.

The most pressing reasons are firstly my financial and vocational spirits, talents, opportunities, and experiences, that are virtually impossible to pursue nor entertain any longer in my life as I have had it with persisting either as an artist or as a 9-to-5 employee of any business or institution; secondly, I am, sad to say, wholly committed to being euthanized, but cannot afford it, and it is regardless illegal in most territories in the United States, except under the strictest conditions of physical ailments that are terminal, which is ethical, and a surefire safeguard against medical malpractices, but not realistic for people like me whom, I believe, have legitimate concerns of wellbeing, quality of life, and ultimately, are sufferers of having no will to live to sustain ourselves and consciously bear the passage of life.

Like Frodo Baggins, in the Lord of the Rings, I feel that call and that pull to be away from life. To travel away. But there is not "traveling away" from life.
There is bearing its passage until death. And so, I see not other means of existing but bearing out however I may survive until my mortal coil expires.

So, in my deepest of heavens, where I sustain my wills to romance in my mind, heart, and soul, the woman to whom I dedicate this poem is someone of a true inspiration to me, and one of two whom I've written poems for, of this like, which can be found on this site.

I have no sense in me of ever truly wishing to be with this woman.
Her life is complicated, and far from my relativistic reality of experiences.
I doubt we could ever see eye-to-eye or get along long-term.
I wish that were not the case. Regardless, I hold her in high regard as somewhat of a light to me. Someone who lit a fire in my soul that never quenches, and never fails to illuminate my mind with the breath of love, romance, inspiration, courage, and peace.

Yet, this same woman is also someone through whom I've seen, felt, and feared the deepest terrors, visions, and heartaches of unrequited, forbidden, doomed, self-destructive, and tragic love made manifest in our unity.

I know not if that is true, or if it is truly, rather, my sense of living a nightmare, separate from her and my pining, that tinges my experience of her with dread because I am an inferior man, truly, in the face of any kind of meeting with her, and I'm terrified, not only being lesser than her in stature, experience, maturity, and having established a survivability in this world, but I also fear how free, and dangerous, she is, and that danger, that freedom, is something I would never afford myself the love of.

I could never love someone that free and dangerous because love doesn't survive in those stressful climates borne in her promiscuous lifestyles of heart, body, and mind. I could never imagine marrying her, having children with her, living together with fidelity and honor, and truly making every effort to value each other with the eternal heart of God as our footing in our time together.

And so, truly, I see myself wounded in finding my heart so willing to be open to her, but to closed to the experience of what I imagine is certain, undeniable, and fatal pain that would end our union as powerfully as it could ever have begun were it to have become a union made real.

Despite all the omens in my purview, eclipsed by all the potential holy revelations of love beyond imagining with her, I see her as an elixir of beauty, forging ever anew in my heart every day I wake and think of her - someone I don't know and haven't spoken to in over a year, but still treasure in my heart in a way she could never understand or know.

Several months ago, she moved to a city nearby, and in the passage of her arrival, an earthquake happened on the eastern seaboard spanning from her city across to mine.

She truly is someone who rocked my world, but I don't know whether she bodes well for me, or is the source of harsh, perishing, and punishing lessons for me to wake up and learn that love is not a dream for common men, it is a war for the hearts of lovers that cannot be waged without the sums, strengths, tethers, measures, and weights of power, wisdom, and truth worthy of defending that love, be that love holy, and Of God.

Regardless, I pray she remains well. And she is always in my heart, but going forward, perhaps more in my prayers. She is an angel to me, but in the sense of being an evoker of passions, not of faith and fidelity, which is where I find my boundaries and safeguard planted, fortifying me for when she is someone of a heart, mind, and soul alike to mine.

As always, enjoy...

DEW
bird droppings
from the skies I'd plummet
into the arms
of the open road
of the paved places
of the winding canal
of the idle city sleeping

drowsy in my somberness
quiet in my pain, I labored
spilling my blood with a copper's clamor
the din of supper, scraping rusting fork & spoon
'pon tin plate
to hear ravens' drowning cries
rattling in the tin can of my empty mind
searching for the truths devoured
by many come before
who wound me dearly
who loved me,
dearly
and craved every drop of blood
succored
every morsel of marrow
how they loved me,
my flavor
my scent
craved the texture of my soul
that decadent, succulent chew
the note of my fermented heart
the painsteaking cuisine of my hopes & fears
no monster could dare
devour
as humans do,
as humans do...

as human devour
whom they love...

and wherever you go
finding me,
as aimless trails
of loose change, on sidewalks
on open roads
in parking lots,
in the hot sun or shade
know they wandered there
in drunken stupors
as I fell out of the gullets
of their wanton avarice,
they lost me perpetually
spreading my worth,
as they spread their disease
cloven hooves clopping, clapping, clipping their way
away from the devastation
of the feast of my dying
like banks
emptying in my ruin
of the wake of my demise
their empires, falling
fiat failing
loose change spooling
like my passions,
my yearning for pleasures of flesh
they ***** every woman I ever adored
society,
in the desert of that lustful ******,
disemboweling...
establishments, perishing
grants, drying up
riverbeds, swamp-like
don't forget
how they,
you,
chose the love of money
over me,
as you butchered me,
like choice cattle
no golden calf could ever beat veal
no price could hold sway over the madness of their deal
how demons waited
gap-toothed smiles twinkling
eyes dark, cold, wanting, hungry
accepting every handshake with glorified glee
malice of eternities, met with mirth,
poured over sinful charity,
from those who destroyed the good
despite the evils that would follow

I was the innocence - the sacrifice,

they enjoyed every taste of my youth,
my joy, my spirit, my screams,

they enjoyed every taste of my innocence
despite every harrow,
nestled
in every mouthful,
like broken glass filling
in fillet mignon
******
good
fun...

and here I am
this one's yours
your own pretty penny
with no thoughts to spare
for your pennies could never purchase my thoughts
for my thoughts are worlds of real estate
no longer on the market
closed
like never-never land
a tombstone reads:

"Here lies,
he who never lived,
for living was too high a price,
for the world to bear being free,
due his freedom,
therefore, he died,
that they may remain slaves
to the devil's delights,
evermore..."

and no one was there
to proclaim forgiveness
that they, who ransacked, knew not what they did
for they, who ransacked, did know
and yet persisted
for the sake of their own yields of riches,
***, and a deep-rooted
desperate sin
called,

"greed"
Horrors looming on the horizon,
for them to seem pretty(er),
better to accept their approach,
than to run and be devoured from behind,
as if that sinful cowardice
worthy only of lucifer, satan, and the devil,
or any anti-christ,
changes one's fate...
Throughout the life of this lonely traveler, one thing has been true.

No one knows the burdens of a truthful, man.

Women pine, quake and laugh about the piteous concerns, and lies of, men.

But, no man has ever exposed the truth of women and their lies.



Clothes to cover up, aging flesh, morose temperament, and the scars of woe & wrath.

Mascara, the dark filth of the earth, to cover tired eyes and the depth of secrets in the soul.

Paint, to cover the cracks of age, and the true doom of the beautiful, yet withering, rose that is youth.

White lies, that blind and twist the fabric of a man's sense of truth and wonder about his love.



The lies are small, the vanity deep, and the wrinkles like rivers that are of broken reason. Trickling; yet, like veins in the eye,

The blood of falsity bleeds deep into the twisted soul of the lying woman. The illusion.

The lies are. Small. Yet each day, each month, each year, they are built skyward, like bricks in a chimney.

The smoke from within is putrid and rife with the anger of misunderstanding and emotional vapor.



The chimneys I see reveal factories of deceit and compulsive irony. The make-up of woman-kind.

They beg for truth, yet hide everything but tears to the eyes of their coddled lovers.

Each man, a babe; helpless to the hammer and clock of heart break to come.

A woman will tell one lie to save your soul... then tell another, to sell it to carrion. The lost.



I am lost. I am a vulture to truth and I am sickened by the taste of greed for love.

They tell me, they hurt, because one man broke promises meant to churn the engines of love...

Yet they continue to stir the cauldron of their own false worries and stifle the honesty of love.

What do they want? My soul? My. Soul? I will give it. I will bury it in the grave of pity, I will.



I will shovel out all the hope, dreams and promises I have to give and empty out a nest; in there.

I have burrowed out the ache and the pain of the bricks and lies women have told me, just to make home for new residence.

When I watch the walls crumble from the coom and cuss, of their idiocy, I will simply clean up the mess.

I have no more to give, but what I hope to be and what I hope to have once I find the woman without lies.



Truth is, men are masters, 'because' of women. Physical strength is all that keeps them at bay, because they, once, slaved us to their needs, we tipped the balance and hold the chain of destiny, in hopes of taming the horses that pull the chariot of angels.

The woman I see, riding the chariot is fierce and bright, like the light that shines that forms the ever-present sun.

I watch her until she passes by and wait for an empty return.

As I am here, with an empty soul... For. New. Residence.



The emotional man, is whipped and beaten by that chariot-woman. She laughs and curses me into the dirt.

But, I stand up righteous in my pursuit for the honest woman. The 'giving' woman.

She waits upon the highest tower, letting down the chains of our bond, to give me flight to the heavens.

... Until then. I simply. Have.

No woman.
I wrote this poem on July 4th 2010, a day, that culminated a harrowing series of ten days, ten days that may be etched in my memory so long as I live.

I was delighted to find this and read this today because it reminded me of the sorrow I've held on to for so long regarding my relationships with women.

Regardless, I'm in better spirits today, and am in a more reasonable place to perceive and digest the anguish I felt in those days, and in the times that followed.

As always,


Enjoy!
Hair adorned
with rainbow glee
good tidings brought
to noble thee

Bones are weary
thoughts are cloudy
heart is heavy
sighs are breathy

But on this day
the snow is thick
the days are long
with brightening sun

And your radiance gleams
like dragon's treasure
tucked away in secrecy
your beauty and its measure

For love you have
to share in oodles
soft as silk and satin
warm, like labradoodles

You give of yourself
and want for nothing
so here it comes
a day of wonder

For today you were born
and continue to live
continue to fight
continue to give

So receive instead
these joyous words
to thank you for you
for being a friend

Though life is heavy
and the snow layers thick
your smile lights the world
and in our minds, stick
A birthday poem for a friend :)
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