Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Robin Lemmen Jun 5
I need to hold you. Lonely isn't a color I wear well. Silence a fashion I wish to go out of style. You should dress in blue's meant for twilight and I'll drown myself in forest greens meant for growing life. Draw, a picture on the surface of my skin. Your mesmerizing hands painting over marks of longing I hid from myself and I. And when you touch me, I don't feel lonely. Do you know how scared that makes me? How I can only imagine losing those eyes porcelain blue filled with kindness and carefully chosen secrets to share. Consuming me whole and leaving me blooming pastel colored confessions of sins and night skies. I slept with lonely so many times I forgot to recognize where her blacks ended and my own began. But when you touch me I don't feel lonely. Falling for your eyes, your smile and the details of your person isn't lonely at all. Falling in love with you is finding rainbows in shadow. Falling into you is falling into my own. Colors, hues, shadows, and all. You're teaching me that love isn't black and white. That it's not lonely after all.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 28
Your core,
this folding door,
guarded by the sentry
of your knees,
the iron vice
of your thighs,
allow me, please,
this much:
one kiss,
one stroke,
one persuasion,
that you might
this night, my darling,
find it in your heart to
open to me.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2016
Lovers peaking naked
Late spring speaks in paradise
Apple tree blossoms
K Balachandran Apr 2016
She made me cup my hands, softly
over her heaving full  *******, a gesture,
a tender moment when  she received
the first intimations of her motherhood,
we were awaiting, this moment, any time
she  never had known a  tenderness like this.

Just then I heard the billowing black clouds
loudly blowing their auspicious conch shells *
announcing arrival of good tidings
impatient clouds, at that time burst out
in torrential rains, cooling the heart of nature and us.
the seed I planted in her, fecund earth, lying in wait
with  her life blood and hopes
she too was lovingly watering it,
only a mother knows how to do it the best,
the water flowed through two streams
the milky way and the holy Ganga river
fiery star dreams and watery abundance
the mother's wish embrace ice and fire
in measures varying according to emotions.

Lifted my eyes to hers which were flooding
in a happiness, words find difficult to express,
like tender vines her hands circled my trunk,
we, man and wife who sowed our seeds
together in self oblivion are on immortality's steps!
wind, water, earth, fire and space, from you comes
our descendants, with eager eyes and singing voice!

This union, is a ritual divine, what hymns of Vedas
extol as fire sacrifice, to transcend the limits time set for us.
Now she is the enchantress,moon coming out of clouds,
we merge in a passionate kiss, our boat  moves in to the
cosmic stream, a flow eternal,without  beginning or end.
*.In India, blowing conch shell is considered auspicious in special occasions
Courtney Joy Nov 2014
If only I could grasp what I've always been trying to get a hold of.
Again, letting sand slip through my fingers,
laying back to float on the daunting shadows
coasted on the river
riding the rapids once again
watching days turn to years
the sun into the moon
until
swept from below - as the tale always goes
a man in the dark, looming
the land and skies afrow
asking where the wicked set their sow
we all know
its the river below
which flows unto eternal sound
Vibration at its highest currency

collision

You've heard its painless to drown
no need to worry, or make a sound
let it all come down
all can't be found

until light is shed in dark places
when sacrifice begins succumation
the need for precipitation
perpetuation
to wash my red hands clean
dawn the new moon, I'm ready for the next
this time to remember the paths I've taken
together
for this single moment of existence
a chance again to be divine
to escape the eternal river below
so i no longer have to live and let go
love, hate, feel, and grow
if only i could know

the third seed my body shall sprout,
which's vine i will climb
to the eternal valley

— The End —