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9.2k · Oct 2014
Skipping Rocks
shaffenstein Oct 2014
You are the stone thrown
into the depths of my river,
the subtle unsettling
upon my surface.
As you sink below my water,
don't fear that you may disappear
like all the secrets beneath--
from you the
stillness in my bones
ripples out and echoes sweet
from the deepness
that lives inside.
3.9k · Jan 2014
shaffenstein Jan 2014
Libidos high,
Thigh to thigh,
Fingers intertwined.
Under clothes we slide.
Quick to breathe,
Meeting sheets
As we depart from our chairs.
Nearly starved,
Back arched,
Hands pulling hair.
Sweet memory,
You all over me.
Quick kiss
To the hips,
Devour my body.
Make it ache,
Start to tremble with lust.
Naked breast
On your chest,
Tick tock--COMBUST.
Rise higher,
Entice her,
****** desire.
Take me,
Embrace me,
A lover's empire.
Tongue to tongue,
Move as one,
Tangled forms we grasp.
Sweet lovers' ******.
961 · Dec 2013
shaffenstein Dec 2013
For years I have known only you.

You, unfaithful lover, mutilated monster, blood-******* fiend.
You, walking cadaver, trash-filled ocean, rotting mouthful of cotton candy cavity.

I felt you first when their faces filled my mind with nuclear lies.  We walked the halls, hand-in-hand, eyes fixed on the laces of our shoes, desperately searching the cracks in the floor for our hollow reflections.  Together we were like widowed spiders, catching unsuspecting bugs in our twisted, silkened webs, and draining their insides for our own selfish use.  We were run-down strippers and streetside hookers, needles shared between haggard addicts shooting up MAGICDUST in blackened midnight alleyways.  I twisted my fingers with yours, knelt before thick lines spread upon deceitful mirrors, lies threaded between rolled bills.  I spoke your name before tornados and blizzards, blindly hummed your song in the presence of serial killers and wild felines with frothing, razored teeth.

For far too long I felt your wrath.

You, loaded shotgun, CLICKCLICKBOOM.
You, pointed blade, silvered hair, bloodied sheet smeared with scream.

I danced with you on wires of barb, 12341234, licked clean the wounds you salted with poisoned defeat.  I shot your arrow from a rusted bow and laughed, cried, prayed for the ****.  On weathered crags where nothing grows we testified our right to life, dug the graves of sinners and murderers, liars and thieves, then threw ourselves inside.  Six feet deep.  Like zombies we emerged, hungry for throbbing hearts and wrinkled lobes of brain.  Like hunters we searched, scouring mine fields and sunken ships for our hidden souls.

Many nights I succumbed to your power.

You, thick leather belt lashed upon my back.
You, vicious, vindictive virus pulsing thick through my veins.

I've tried to lead you astray from your destruction.  I threw you from marbled balconies and left you behind in dense, overgrown forests where I knew not my way.  I fed you to flesh-hungry pirhanas and strangled you in my clenched, white-knuckled fists, trampled your face with spiked heels and had you sleep upon hot coals.  Yet still you found your way to me, followed the trail of trembling hands back to my door and hid in the corners of rooms and the pages of books, waiting for your next attack.

From you I have learned.

You, wolf in wolf's clothing, howling at my moon.
You, filthy fox of the slyest breed.
This isn't what I'd categorize as poetry, perhaps poetic prose.  I welcome your criticism.
755 · Aug 2014
shaffenstein Aug 2014
Let's rise high on violet,
breathe in indigo skies,
taste deep maroon magenta,
blueberry pie.
Slide down with me
beneath the olive green
and tread through turquoise,
sweet aquamarine.
On goldenrod
let's softly trod
and wade through streams
of rich, rusted bronze.
We'll dance in pools
of electric blue
and splash our knees
in the velvet azul.
Let's kneel and drink
from rivers of red,
sip crimson and cranberry
to open our heads.
We'll submerge our souls
in tangerine gold---
won't you take my hand
down this rainbow road?
Another oldie. Another goodie.
733 · Aug 2014
shaffenstein Aug 2014
What I wanted to say
on Saturday as we sat
on the park bench,
chatting idly about
the way crocuses grow,
was I don’t know when
we started to pretend
the cup was still full,
how we didn’t notice
the train jumping the tracks,
if going back was
still an option.

And I thought then,
as we discussed the
profuse bloom of the
crocuses in June,
how very strange it was
for a flower to need the
dark chill of winter
just as much as the sun.
And even though you laughed,
I thought maybe,
if we mixed the good
with the bad,
we’d have a chance
to grow.
683 · Sep 2014
shaffenstein Sep 2014
Come to me when the night is deep,
when the darkness surrounds you,
when the spiders creep.
Spin a web with fingers sleek
and catch your prey when the world
around sleeps.
Haunted secrets we keep
when the air is not breathable
and all around the sound seems
when love is weak,
Know I hold you,
unfold you
in a world that's predictable;
I'll lift you, unshift you
when the night feels so crippled,
uncage you, reclaim you
when your world falls unfixable.
Tonight under moonlight
when the wolves hunt alone,
we'll tune out the drone
with love's resounding home--
We'll delight in the known,
knowing we're never alone
and howl at the moonlight
too soon midnight gone.
651 · Oct 2014
Chapter 26, Lesson 10
shaffenstein Oct 2014
If to pluck a petal
makes me wonder
"love me not,"
then every pebble
(cause of stumble)
heeds a path
that most forgot.
Just a human
now exhuming
bones deep buried
under doubt
that with sunlight,
wonders one,
might not life
live without?
Much too late,
we never braved
to breach,
but with faith,
self foundation,
bleed so others
we can teach.
611 · Oct 2014
shaffenstein Oct 2014
What stands after nothing,
what grows in the night?
What answers the calling,
what soothes untreated sight?
Tonight, without knowing,
know we sustained the right,
here now, without crumbling,
fight the dust in the mite.
We'll delight in the other,
never smother the fight...
but when hopeless
feels dopeless,
always answer the cry.
597 · Dec 2013
Foreign Symmetry
shaffenstein Dec 2013
touch warm wind summer mist sage spice
melt salt skin moon glow pale white
eyes chocolate fire five fingers brush face
lips parted ocean blue water tongue taste

            hands fumble rip tremble buttons quick eager
            sweat ***** sweet skin bone blind fever
            one rise soar sky wind breathe high
            one sink cave stone dark deep dive

twist tangle grasp hair pull nip scratch
key lock door shades drawn open latch
breathe quick speak hum soft satin whisper
rhythm run river rush afterglow glisten
551 · Aug 2014
Harper's Ferry
shaffenstein Aug 2014
Down the river's side
with stars in our eyes,
sun beating sweet rays
upon the rippling tide.
I tilt my head back,
let the water lap at my toes--
the comes, the goes,
in the throes of my mind.
Drink in the afternoon,
sip it like wine,
wind under the bridge
where the train tracks collide.
There's a mesmerizing shine
at the horizon line:
where everything meets--
My solace, divine.
532 · Aug 2014
With love, Brown Eyes
shaffenstein Aug 2014
My Green Eyes on a high rise
Sends me sailing through a breeze;
A zephyr of perfection
Brings me softly to my knees.
Before you I am naked,
Shrouded only by your kiss;
You guard precious possessions
As your lips encounter hip.
Slowly sinking, wond'ring, thinking
How love so quick occurred,
We weld ourselves together
Both with touch and endless word.

Oh, Green Eyes, it's your smile,
You guide me to my home--
A place so fresh and garden green
Beneath your skin and bone.
Your fingers on my fingers
Send me gasping to the floor,
Your whisper in my ear
Makes me shiver, plead for more.
Sprawled and tangled, move as one,
A deep seductive mess,
A most primal instinct
Each time we do undress.

Dear Green Eyes, you epitomize
The strength of human heart;
Through days of doubt and worry
You blindly brave the dark.
An though you walk straight on your own,
Although you know your way,
I'll be the 'X' that marks the spot
If ever you should stray.
So Green Eyes, please try,
Remember this verse:
From the depths of my soul
Your green eyes I do thirst.
This is an old piece about an old flame.
529 · Aug 2014
shaffenstein Aug 2014
"Don't forget to remember me"
I said with broken eyes,
'Cause twenty-six hours tonight
Is longer than my whole life.
And I swear I'll never place you
In a bag labeled regret,
For the times we shared
When you were near
Are all I'll never forget.

It was late one humid, hazy night
When you first held my hand.
We smoked upon my rooftop,
Talked of all our future plans.
And you wondered if I loved you
Like I loved all of the rest,
'Cause you said I was your first,
wondered if you were my best.

Your embrace became the guidelines
For any other who might come,
But if it's anyone but you,
I swear I'd rather be alone.
Now I'm thinking of you darling
As I lay awake in bed,
And wond'ring if that bus ride
kept me warm inside your head.

Yes, our Monday came too quickly,
It slipped past our first kiss,
It numbed all of our memories,
Left pale and whitened fists.
Yet as we sat upon that rooftop,
It was perfection we defined,
And I promise, with due time,
Again it will be you and I.

So sweetie, don't you worry,
I'm not going anywhere;
Anytime you need me,
Just remember I'll be there.
Like those nights upon my roof top,
The ones we can't forget;
Honey, you can't be the first--
But you're better than the best.
Another old poem...another old flame.
445 · Oct 2014
shaffenstein Oct 2014
I can’t go back to that spot.
I tried once, but my legs grew heavy
like concrete blocks sinking into the ground
and pulling me down into the hot
core of the Earth.
I can’t go back to where we laid together,
floating beneath the wires,
our bodies touching, my right side to your left,
your fingers laced between mine,
braided together in everlasting clasp.
I can’t go back, not ever, because then
I’d remember the exact color of your eyes,
melted bronze,
two chocolate drops dissolving in my palms
and staining a blouse so carefully unbuttoned
by hands that took their time.
I can’t go back without you,
it wouldn't be the same;
I’d get lost in the memory of your mouth
closed so tightly upon mine,
sealing in the sunlight and wild blueberry kiss,
our tongues waltzing,
dancing and dipping inside caverns deep,
my bottom lip grasped between your teeth.
Even when I think I could go back,
I know the patch of wildflowers
where you knelt down and stole a single one,
where you placed it gingerly behind my ear,
will no longer be there.
And I swear...
if I went back and everything had changed--
Or worse, if it all was the same--
I'd be too afraid
I’d never find
the way
375 · Jan 2014
shaffenstein Jan 2014
Love is not blind, it is terrifying.

Somewhere between awake and asleep, I am a younger version of myself. It is summer, August. We have been piled in the back seat of my sister's Toyota for over an hour, our bronzed knees kissing one another like honeybees fluttering to perfumed petals. We have waited for this moment, it seems, our entire lives, and now that it's here, we wonder how long it will last.

It is quiet as we park the car and snake our way up the face of the mountain. We pause to sample the wild blueberries and to drink in the last of the sun's light before the dark blanket of night settles in. Tonight I can not feel my own legs beneath me as I inch myself toward the edge of the jagged crag, just your skin warm and salty in my palm.

We lay together on the rock's edge, our bodies settling, our limbs digging into the earth, rooting us to this place, this feeling.

"Why?" I ask, and you do not have to say "Why what?" because all there is is the beginning of the end, stretching infinitely before us like a strand of shiny pearl goodbyes.

You light a joint and drink heavily from its tip. I am lost in the signals that dance across your lips and I want nothing more at this moment than to taste you, to sample the flavors of your breath--campfire and clover.

Instead I take my own slow sips and hold the smoke inside my lungs for as long as I can, just to see what it's like to stop breathing. We rise together, two bluebirds hovering above the olive-green of life.

Now we are naked and tangled as we map out our futures in the electrical wires that hang above our heads: the roads we're sure to travel alone, and the one we know we we'll never brave together.

When we finally make love, I am afraid to stray from your gaze, because part of me knows that after tonight I will struggle to remember the exact color of your eyes. We are both trembling, but I can tell in the way that you say my name that it's not for the same reason.
Again, this is more a piece of prose, not so much poetry.  But it means a lot to me and I hope you enjoy.
shaffenstein Aug 2014
My pale, painted hands scan your cover,
fingertips greeting one another.
But plastic lines separate restless lovers,
like devotion's some kind of prison
that robs
these raining eyes of all vision.
It's my eyes and your story now,
like a work of fiction.
You are the main character
with the most meticulous description.
If your pages could talk,
would they speak to me,
whispering honesty
through their bindings?
Like an elegant verse,
a sanguine drink,
I devour your text,
leaving my hands
the deepest red of ink.
And, oh, how I want to believe
(just make me believe)
you'll reserve space for me
in your biography.
And if you could,
make it convincing.
'Cause you're so stunning--
I've never seen you look so well,
knees drawn upon my windowsill.
You are the only book worth reading,
so try not to deceive me,

I bleed easily.
One of my first poems about my first love. Circa 2004.
298 · Aug 2014
shaffenstein Aug 2014
To the boats that have yet
to sail and dock,
to lines and meters
and hands on a clock,
to color that's caught
on the artist's smock,
to childhood memories
and building blocks.
Here's to the rain
that pebbles your face,
to the circus and clowns
and lions in cage,
to the hero, his journey,
and a damsel to save,
to dreams that are seen
on the crest of a wave.
A salute to the trees
and the air and the ground,
to the violin strings
and their doleful sound.
Drink to the sphere
and it's on-going round--
This one's for the lost
who will someday be Found.
270 · Oct 2014
Half Smiles
shaffenstein Oct 2014
There's something in the air,
a flicker, there,
a flash of passion,
an impossible flare that rose
in the mountain, a sun gold
sipped from a bowl
of wonder.
It grows, like thunder
rippling through my hair,
caught in my nose,
brightening as it goes.
It glistens upon the stones,
lifting from the pavement,
an amazement spread wild
that piles from below
and settles as a smile,
there for everyone to know.
266 · Aug 2014
When the Earth Wished
shaffenstein Aug 2014
I want to see you dance,
Let your hair fall to your knees.
Twist beneath a summer sky,
Catch a flowing breeze.
Lay softly in the meadow
'Pon the velvet green of grass;
Sink into the soil,
Let the earth caress your back.
Sing a song to swallows
High atop a shaded limb,
Whisper where the fishes
Beneath the river swim.
Loaf atop the mountain,
Feel the rock upon your feet--
Watch the sun fade to the moon
And hope they someday meet.
264 · Dec 2013
shaffenstein Dec 2013
I memorized all the lines
On the palms
Of your hands.
Where were we when
I watched you
From afar, hips
Swinging wild,
Hands twisting
In the wind?
I can remember
Snowfall on the branches
Under the maple
Where we christened
Our home,
Dug into its skin
To let Them know
We had been There.
I knew you well then,
When the gaps between
Your fingers filled
With mine,
When your lines met my lines,
And we felt reckless
To Collide.
234 · Aug 2014
shaffenstein Aug 2014
One fervent longing:
the gaps between my fingers
filled so full with yours.

— The End —