Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Touched by your fiery lips
my lips gently turned red,
streaming blood
sang to your heart,
your speaking fingers
on my chest, neck
and shoulder blades
are garrulous.
it's a fire dance
of two molten stars
blurring time limits
making our skin ablaze
like the sun's morning flames.
Your eyes transmit love,
transcendence pure happens:
an urge to fuse and become one.
our hearts that sing has turned gold,
two golden birds at flight
as one, shoot up in to the sky
to explore limits.
I am a haze, you too,
body mind and spirit
aren't different, we are
not two or limited,
this moment ablaze sits
on the lap of eternity.
The third and last Thanksgiving poem

they went round the table
asking what are you thankful for,
arrived my turn,
all the easy ones already taken,
family food etc.

so they said give us a poem,
and I replied:

I am thankful for the
light at the end of the tunnel,
the eyes to see it,
the patience to wait for it,
and the words to describe it.
atop the apex
the doyens of poetry reside
rarefied terrain
motor vehicles sluice through the puddles in the town's streets
the voices was permanently silenced
no more could its language be heard
to other locales the voice now travels
spreading a wonderful panoply of words
most happy are they who hear the voice
for it is so hospitably well received
Next page