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Does it hurt you like it hurt me
Do you still think
Of us.
I’m the one who needs you most
But yet I’m the one who left.
 Nov 2018 Ashley Chapman
Cné
Drunk
 Nov 2018 Ashley Chapman
Cné

As passion surrounds me in the dark
Hearts ignited into a spark.
Tongues mate, a ritual dance
Lost in a bliss without a chance

The gentle caress upon my face
Tingling sensations grow with the trace
In a frenzy of kisses long denied
Hungered passion can no longer hide.

Within this depth we are deeply drawn
As sensual desires begin to spawn
Night passion is lost in endless time
As I become drunk on your sensual wine.

Tender kisses placed upon my skin
No fighting desires that I can't win
My soul and heart fly as you caress
Slowly, slowly as we undress

Heat deepens into our senses
Passion tearing ... into our defenses
Your kissing lips move upon my leg
Sending silent urges ... as I beg

Longing boils and starts to crest
As we glide into our ****** quest.
While we lay our bodies intertwine
Intoxicating me ... your sensual wine.

Trembles quake, ecstasy takes control
Whimpers escape my lips, as you caress my soul.
Desire drips, sweat runs down your back
Drawn into passion as our souls attack

Slowing from our quicken pace
Gentle kisses rain upon my face
A blissful aftermath, I’m lost in time
From being drunk on our sensual wine.

 Nov 2018 Ashley Chapman
Cné

splattered in wet ink
sealed with a passionate kiss
deep connections link

Does anyone send postal mail anymore?
“I'm sorry if you miss me”
was the response, as I noted her growing distance.
I replied that she had warned me of this,
when it had begun in its first instance.

I'd like to think that I'd helped her along
from someplace dark and cold.
I enjoyed our chats, camaraderie, and banter …
it never seemed to get old.

I brought this up again as the distance grew wider
each and every day.
I told her that I was happy for her
and that she'd finally found her way.

I'd be there again, without a thought,
it was never something I'd minded.
She'd told me earlier that she was now “less needy” …
So, it's not like I was blindsided.

I know sometimes that its tough …
tough through fog to see.
I guess the thing that certainly confounds me is …
Why doesn't she miss me?
Dad, I know you would not want me to say..
but I miss you every single day.

You were my hero from an early age
my guardian, my teacher, my wisely sage.

You and Mum raised us all with such love.
Handling us all with kitten gloves.

Your knowledge and experiences you would freely impart.
You really were oh so smart.

There was nothing you wouldn't do
To keep your Family close to you.
An arm to hold us, stop us falling down.
An ear to listen when no one else was around.

You were strength
You were smart
You were fun
You were loyal
You were our rock

We won't forget you Dad, you'll never leave our hearts.

Love you **
It would have been my Dads birthday on Sunday, two days after my Daughters, four days after my Grandaughters.

He would have been 84.

My Dads been gone for two years now but I miss him every day.

Since last November ive written and self published three children's books and it is my only regret that my Dad didn't get to see this I know he would have been so proud.

I will be visiting a local place very dear to us on Sunday and raising a glass to my beloved Dad.

Thank you for listening **
Madness absent presents a void
where only tiredness may prevail
along with ghosts that circumscribe
the issues that still haunt my life

the ideation is put aside
no longer present at all times
a long reprieve from the call
from the darkness of the void

when sanity was found at last
from a source that I’d not expect
the fog of doom is finally pierced
to reveal normality

the journey becomes one of days
small diversions hand-in-hand
with the grind I now embrace
less excitement of death’s hint

now the years stretch ahead
demanding more than past lack
it’s enough to turn back
find a way to mania

here's the joke before you go
if ideation is all one knows
spice provided is then missed
neurosis gone is for the best.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181120.
The poem “Madness Absent” is about the relief I’ve found when I stopped drinking diet sodas.  The aspartame appears to give me VERY BAD mood swings that ultimately feed my ideation.
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