Solitude
Embraces me
Devours my senses.
Love eats my hunger away.
All Beauty is in the darkness.
In the heart,
A wild beast rules.
While the withering soul cries,
Waiting for the true love
Waiting for the only one
Tears don't fall anymore.
It's heavenly but it's lonely.
Those cries are no more heard.
Shrieks have become inaudible
It's only silence that echoes
And only solitude embraces me,
It traces down my curves.
Dryness kisses my throat.
My lips meet the darkness where even
The darkness can't see me.
My hands are touched by the unwanted pain.
Hatred eats my happiness away.
It's all wild, all dark.
But it's only solitude that embraces me,
Devours my senses.

Thrown into wildness
I was thrown into wildness...

Law of the jungle runs deep in ones veins
food chain topped by vicious prowlers
if blood keeps running cold
murderous minds grow more bold
predators take pride in their
hunter's prowess.

Thrown into wildness
I was thrown into wildness.

Where fights in the dead of night
and greedy hands with high demands
are everyday life
all part of ulterior motives
and rotten plans.

Where pretentious intentions
are the cost of survival
and no saints nor prophets
are offered revival.
It's hard to stay calm...

It's hard to stay calm
when wrath's laid on the tip
of your palms.
Gluttonous man eaters drool
in the depths of the concrete jungle
over lustful people
whilst maintaining an iron ******
rule.

Thrown into-

The sad reality of living day to day
and sloth's not tolerated
unless you've royal blood
survival instincts often tempt
a few to stray
their ways forgotten rest
beneath the murky mud.

In the end, envy runs errands
against the common folk
for in the jungle defenceless insects
have no place in the grander plan
or any rights to live humble.

It's a vicious cycle that takes
its toll
being thrown into modern wildness
and when the sun goes down
and follows darkness,
the world is then devoid from
kindness,
and humanity is swallowed whole.

In raw shadow I linger
And recall your corduroy voice
Smooth, open, and deep
You make my head throb with poetry
And I ache with delirious desire to dance
Beneath the moon and stars
To the music of the wind and rhythm of the sea.

One of the deepest feminine pleasures is when a man stands full, present, and unreactive in the midst of his woman's emotional storms. When he stays present with her, and loves her through the layers of wildness and closure, then she feels his trustability, and she can relax.

She
Took a moment
To close
Her eyes.

In that moment
She
Heard the rolling
Of the thunder,
The pattering
As the raindrops
Flung themselves
Against the earth,
The creaking of
Trees bracing
Themselves
Against the raging
Onslaught of both
Wind and water,
The approaching
Symphony of a
Wall of rain.

She
Could smell the
Rain kissed earth,
The clean fresh air
That accompanied
The cleansing of
The world.

She
Could feel the wind
Howling across
Her rain streaked cheeks.

Breathe in.
Breathe out.

Heartbeat.
Heartbeat.

Wind and lighting.
Thunder and rain.

She
Opened
Her
Eyes.

The sky was clear.
No storm for a
Hundred miles.

Except
For
One.

She
Smiled to herself.
"I am the Storm."

Brace yourself.

The cat brought in a songbird today.
Unharmed, the tiny brown thing darted
Up to perch beside the cactus on the top shelf.
Silence. But for the dreary hum of the
Television and the tumble dryer. How dull
To him our world must seem, I thought,
How full of corners and clutter and dust.
I opened the front door and out he flashed,
Leaving strangeness for the wild autumn sky.

i’m going up and up, like hands

twining over heads in the lights and the smoke,

weaving into the music their own song

of tendon on tendon and rushing arteries.

if I lean my head back, you are there

and the melody is stronger, wilder,

begging tentatively to be touched

like a feral animal just beyond my fingers.

behind me, you are a mountain.


I lift my hands and I pray.