They say that love is between a man and a woman.
That the racing hearts and soft whispers are to be between that of a man and a woman.
Yet when I look at her, my heart races and my mind fogs.
They say it is wrong to love that of the same ***.
That the soft touches and moans of pleasure should be shared between a woman and a man.
But when her mouth meets mine and my hands find her hair, I can't help but think that they are the ones that are wrong, not this.
Because this,
Her mouth on mine,
Our bodies flush against each other,
The look in her eyes,
Is love.
The soft whispered words and racing hearts is now something that both she and I share.
And when her body slots perfectly with mine
And her eyes show that there is nowhere else she would rather be,
I know that this is love.
The way my breath hitches
And my heart races
And her soft gaze is all I can seem to focus on,
I know that this is love.
And if this is what love is,
If this is what it really feels like,
It will never be wrong.
This is love.

He is the sky full of stars
The stars full of dreams
A dream full of hope
A poem I will never finish

   writing
    
      or

   reading

He is the wonder of joy
The joy of life
A life filled with love
A love that will not end

   not today

   not tomorrow

   not ever

He is the music in my heart
The heart in my soul
The soul in my heart
A kindness that grows

   and grows

     and grows

He is everything in a sky full of stars
More than I could have dreamt
More than I could have hoped
A wish that comes true
again and again

   every moment

   of everyday

My lifes greatest privilege
My loves greatest joy
My son
The poem I will never finish

Her eyes are glowing rubies

Her hair is crimson; flowing beauty

Her aura is an avalanche, the snow ensues me.

How, oh, how could this happen to me?!


Her smile peels back the curtains on the sunshine

And pulls open my chest, like Clark Kent's shirt when it's punch time

Then caresses my heart as if her love was mine

And she would never know

But that is much better though.


Her face glows

Her shape flows

She makes me wish I could see her face at every day's beginning and every day's close.


How could this be?!

I despise romancing!

What potion has entranced me?

I never believed in love at first sight


Until I saw her.


I do not believe in love

Except the agape kind.

But every time I see her

The image remains branded on my mind.

I see her smile expand to fullness in slow motion;

Memorized.

Mesmerized.

Terrorized.


This is impossible!

I am a Stoic!

And yet,

I am a poet.

I could see beauty in the hideous,

Draw meaning from the frivolous,

Confound the wittiest

But now I'm just an idiot.

Because instead of harnessing beauty,

Beauty has harnessed me.

Just days ago, she sat in a car with me

But if she ever knew these thoughts, she'd stay far from me.


I write this in hopes to expel this foolish infatuation

Of a hormonal child awaiting maturation.

See, she makes me think of a life that is merely a fancy,

The simple thought of her makes my heart get antsy

I don't know why, to me, she seems so beyond the usual

And the fact of our different races makes it all seem even more beautiful.


I will look away when in her presence,

Even as I exchange a sentence

No more to be subdued by her essence

And feel like the lowest of peasants.


I do not need her
I will not seek her
I will not flee her
I will not squeeze her
No reveries of a life of me and her

She brings me from equilibrium to ecstasy at her leisure,

And this


Is why I hate to see her.

Submissive

Peel me raw with your voice
Undress my mind with your wit
Scrape my bones with your laughter
******* blood, so I submit

Pluck out my heart with your soul
Rip through my spine with your mind
Extract my juice with your desperate eyes
Make me love you till my eyes go blind

Whatever I think on a theme
Is somewhere in a song;
I want to muse on something,
That hasn't yet been done.

Political verses aren't much read,
Nor social satire on the quick and dead;
Relationships are switching lanes,
Sparking up or down in flames.
Family, friends, coming, going,
Everybody's naming names.
Any doggerel I might choose,
Is just a story in the news.

Arise and spin where you stand,
You'll get dizzy, you'll be queasy,
I knew this wasn't to be easy.
It's somewhat like a paper cut,
It's quite like that when it starts up,
Hardly noticeable, but for the sting,
But it gets in under the skin.

It's sweetness strong to draw a bee,
Flowery scents on a breeze;
An attraction meant to pull you in,
A stinger poised to pierce your skin.

I have my joys at end of day,
A little sleeper, a swift silent dreamer
That grows like our emotions,
Just needing our endorsements.

It's not been parsed as it could,
Discard the evil, keep the good;
It's in our veins, as sure as blood,
I'll focus all my wit on love.

If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
                       tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
                              throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
        and love
and love

Fear waits upon its prey
where the light is a shamefaced girl

wind is a fragmented guest
where silence fools the unwary

to chirp the birds forget
where the baiter might be the bait

the hush is not all white
as in that ever ruling night
blood is spilled without sound.

Forlorn as the lovers' lost track
meanders the creek
in moans for the lost
shedding its sighs to the tides.