this maligned soul
speechlessly awaits with lips bound
by butter soft feelings
forever melting on the tip of tongue
with its lies and doubts forever right
there graphic and visceral in minds eye
having reached the edge between this and all other human beings
she asks from the other side how it feels
asks if it would be all right to venture
my emptiness finds no objection
just objectification
pant and release the guttural sounds
where they seem to be heard
wish  it was more
but its just empty push push push push
i cant  feel anything
should that make me sad
she asks how that makes me feel
i just look out at her perfections and softness wares
with a maze of questions
and a thousand lies
to cover the obscenely unclad
to remove the dried stain
in my eyes
don't touch me
don't touch me

You drip into my thoughts like a slip of the tongue and blushing of parted lips; ravenous.

Your indulgence of my masochistic inquires is shamelessly scandalous,  

Akin to a laceration of lace and a bursting of buttons, unraveling the threads of my modesty.

The consequences stripping me of my delicacy exposing the betrayal of my anatomy.

Brutality and savagery quicken my submission and the remnants of my restraint will succumb; a hunger.

Dive into the warmth of my energy, the color of my heart, the wavelength of my soul; exploit.

Your devilish grin growing, dilated pupils following my form taking sadistic pleasure in my resistance to a futile fight.

Wide eyes watch your teeth sink into the purity of my flesh, porcelain complexion now stained with crimson red; capitulation to a carnal sentiment; surrender.

...and off I went...

on the way to nowhere.
Fogerty asked me a bit about the rain,
Floyd told me about money,
Henley was worried about some boys
       because it was summer,
Frampton kept asking someone
       to show him the way.
I hoped it wasn't me, I had no idea
       where I was headed.
Until I stopped to write this.
And when I got here
the Animals told me about a house
       in New Orleans.
On the way, between songs
I figured out the meaning of life
but I didn't think anyone would believe it
       or me,
so I didn't bother to write it down.
Now,
I can't remember what it was.
It will come back to me again,
someday,
maybe.
My eyes are on fire as the sweat
       rolls down into them.
I'm watching the boats cruise by freely
from the confines of my car.
I think of how my mind is like the water:
always changing
and it never stops moving.
As goes life:
the only constant is that everything changes.
...and it hit me again, just now,
the meaning of life,
and it makes sense to me, but you
       still wouldn't believe me if I told you.
I have to get going anyway.
It's a long ride back,
but not long enough.

Most moments in our lives pass unnoticed, without remark or consciousness.
Then, there are those that mean something, or that we choose to mean something,
   that become a placeholder for our lives, to add meaning, understanding, passage
    a demarcation that bestows significance
My daughter graduated, under rainy skies and cool breezes.
The white tents in the grass flapped empty and lonely like a cancelled wedding
We sat in a loud gymnasium rather than in the grass quad surrounded by trees
I was there with a thousand other proud parents;
I circled her name in the program.  I waited for the moment when it was to be called; being    
   slightly afraid I'd miss it
And I whistled and yelled, but I don't think quite enough.  I didn't seem to mark the moment.
It was a moment, and I knew it, expected it, wanted it to be.
   so badly.  
Bittersweet.  I like that word, it explains life so well.
I like the idea of bittersweet and I wanted to have it envelope me that day.
I tried to hold on to it.   Like a good dream that comes too late in the morning and wont be prolonged quite far enough
I wanted to hold on, to understand what it meant.  I knew it meant so much,
   or, at least, I wanted it too.
I held on to understand what this meant to her.
I held on to remember my own graduation and the dream I then only fainty realized I had just experienced in my four years of college
I held on because I know her next steps take her further away.
I held on to feel what she felt in the mixture of joy, relief, sadness, confusion;
   all that goes with parting from friends who alone know the exerience you shared.
I held on to make sense of my life.  Making sense of moments makes them meaningful.  
I want life to be meaningful
I wish I would have written something that evening.  In the full emotion of the day.
I thought about it.
And now, like that dream, it is fading into morning light.  I can't remember all that was, or seemed to be, profound and important as I watched my daughter those two days.  
I want it to mean something enduring, symbolic and permanent.  
I want my life to be important, to reflect a famous quote from someone, to be in granite.  
Not so everyone will know it mattered, just so that I will.

It  felt,
     like a dream remembered,
a gift bestowed for no reason, save mine.
Conscious discovery yielding an oasis
     from tempest or doldrum.
     Without the energy or tension of a search
     No plan born from need or design
     No thoughtful execution of a magazine get-away
Luxurious coincidence, well cherished

Faithful lawn chair positioned for comforted discovery
     A bath of sunlight and blue, still skies
     Occupied birds singing faint chorus to joy and spring
     Not begging for attention or warning, lest they disturb.

A cool spot found beneath the sheets by my wandering toes
     When warmth has stayed too long and threatens to be wearisome
     Lounging in the arms of my beloved, just longer than expected
     The sweet kiss of familiar lips full and lingering

Chance audience to a little one's discovery
     When no one is watching, a glimpse
     the unfolding world of a child
     Echoing back to wonder and a reminder

The observed gait of a cat in  open grass
     Her movement and mechanics newly seen
     Exquisite design for her own purposes
     And a glimpse into a world that is not ours

Not demanding attention
     They pale my designs and grand efforts
     They embarrass the clumsy media
With the slow fall of a reddened leaf in autumn
     Dancing this way and that to find its place on earth
Inviting me to see

Dancing

Dancing with legendary devil,
Friday afternoon,
Only on Friday,
Thursday,
Ran along too soon,
All consuming,
Tension relief,
Captures all remaining grief!
Strips me bare without a care,
Peace together in piece,
Sorts everything,
Tries to make it right!
As strutting fellow pranced,
In rays of sunlight draped,
Protected,
You and I in one,
Our Pas De Deux delight,
Whirls on,
In panoramas bright,
Found myself in cupid's light,
A scope of vision unexpected!
Enthroned as poets lady wise,
Bathing in his darkness!
Encountering my white!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Taste the days end with me
Sweet wine of soft fireflight
and tender touch beinth a summer moon
In your arms endure
This love can be ours
Under the iridescent moonlight
Embraced within one another
To live for an eternity
Languid and soft
We shall watch the grand painting of the ages unfold before us
As time itself submits that we are one
That we are passion and love
Love that shall never shed a liquid tear
Time ages us as one to live an eternity together
The porcelain dripping down the eons can't hold us back
Nor can the God who sheds those tears for us
Ferment the seeds of this madness pause along the walls
That contain the fragile thoughts
And read the written passages that are formed in the shadows of what we have created these passing moments are the dire and forlorn wasteland of the last days we spend here.

The light is racing from our room,
seeping through the cracks under the door.
The darkness grows,
casting us into shadow.
but all things including light die in the end
utterances in the small places of my dark mind
lend themselfs to such times
i would not suffer to pass
the hour without bringing forth all the angers
and mettlesome ways that confound you
the smokes rakes against my mind,
hiding me behind my eyes.
The truth came calling
along with the clock's toll,
but who among us could answer such an ominous cry?
When the hours between midnight
and 4 am are so unforgiving.
i am filled with tears
until i can bear no more
your words kiss my mind
and i cannot return this tenderness
for it would turn to love
i am waiting these hours
in the desolate towers of cold
for the rescue of dawn
but it gives little comfort
were that i could reach out to you
but i dare not
i dare not*


Edit et al:           Collaboration Poem written by alyssainwonderland (http://hellopoetry.com/-alyssainwonderland/) and I (Mark John Junor); alyssainwonderland contributions are in italics