Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.

On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.

I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.  
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.

Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of rum and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
run strong.

In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
enough.

When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.

This morning
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
your shoulder,
something happened.
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
Drifting slowly  
into love with you.

Thank you for reading! Comments and criticism are always welcome!

Freedom comes
Not through choice!
Freedom comes
From having a voice.
Not to say,
Now I can choose!
But to say,
With choice I loose.
It's all the same -
You have not chosen.
It's all same -
You have awoken!

Half Life of Phi Dec 2014

This world we live in is terribly cold
Stone hearts will chill your bones
Kill your soul or so I have been told
By experiences of varried tones
If you could travel through
A mile or two in my shoes
You would lose your mind
And leave reality behind
Just like I did in a devilish bid
To try and find hope,
And a way to cope
With this life so morbid
Dealing with years of abuse
Each time I would reduce
And shelter my mind away
Blocking out the violent foray
The constant concussive ridicule
From parents with a wrathful rule
Their constant battery to my psyche
Has left me with barely any sanctity
Of mind, soul, and heart
All piles of rubble before I could start
So when I  wander yonder, I cart
Around my dead childhood
Through this broken neighbourhood
While I wear an obsidian hood
So people don't see the real me
Enough said, it would fill you with dread
Because if only you could see
The face behind the mask,
You might finally know me
In a deeper sense, my task
The method to my madness
That I am acting under duress
I might impress upon your life
What it means to go through strife
You may have done worse deeds
But you didn't have to live your life on Speed.

When your eyes lit up and your face softened
I knew at that moment your muse had spoken
like a spell cast I must of given a superstitious glance
you gave me the passageway

Secrets from your dreams seducing me
subtle insights leave me in desperation
everything you've said transcends me
... magical

I had my eyes closed imagining
your concepts-- inducing
nothing less
intimacy

imagined while imagining
Harmon Tamura Jan 2015

These feelings. Uncontrollable, unstable, almost useless yet never to a point of desperation. I yearn to feel them every day and when not, I feel nothing but deep, soulful pain. What is this force that has come over me? Could I be crazy, psychotic in ways of no mans understanding. Unable to force my way through life like others, hindered by an anchor in the mind. Or perhaps I am perfectly normal. An automaton in the gear works of humanity, moving forward every day, no thoughts at all. Is it peace or war I must strive for? Are these feelings of poison and deceit or beauty and freedom? Can I live my life normally, falling through the gaps, flying high, diving low, always empty on the inside by my lack of insight of this feeling? When I stand upon the clifftops, gaze out into the sea, raise my voice and scream at the top of my idiomatic lungs, I am in love! I am in love. For all the answers this world has ever seen, nothing seems to solve more than the simple turn of phrase, I am in love.

At least I think I am...
Nigel Morgan Oct 2012

A visit to the library,
And returning I opened the book
I’d waited for a long impatient month.
Knowing it to be brim full of inspirational words, 
I had only to read a few paragraphs
When it came to me,
When there was this moment 
Poets call epiphany.
 
Into another place, beyond the printed page, mysteriously I slipped. I think it’s where your creative spirit lives and thrives, a place your flowing thoughts reside. There, the energy of your spirit flashes in the dark, and there exists the archetypes of all your inward eye brings forth. There the marked surfaces carry the chemerical accident of objects placed and pressed, and there the passage of your sewing hand’s rich rightness of intuition guides. In tandem they touch me to the quick; they scare and scar me. And why? – I sense in them this vigor; a potency no less, strength so wholly absent from my declining store of sad objects and false fashionings.
 
And all that careful reasoning 
I'd so variously composed, 
badly articulated,
tiresomely presented 
became then as nothing, 
nothing against the truth
of what you make 
and what I know you are.

Shivendra Om Jul 2015

You are the supremely graceful
epiphany, the life changing
—illumination

Stay. And let me stare
at your fulgent elegance,
your lovely manifestation

till I'll become blind enough
and see the meaning
of this incarnation

by Luca Shivendra Om
(C) Luca Shivendra Om
SøułSurvivør Jan 2015

it was as though the language
of stars was translated to me.
i realized my past was not

my destination.

(how can you see your path
when you always look behind you?)

Thanks to Maggie Grace for sharing this challenge... it was like reliving the epiphany all over again!
Jelisa Jeffery Aug 2010

Things are knocking at my door, and their faces are familiar
Because I’ve felt them before.
Feelings are falling from the sky and landing in my body,
And it’s a bad night for rain, my thoughts are still sore.

Your face is plastered all over my brain’s walls,
And I’m just waiting for my heart to start receiving them too.
Your hands are what my body is waiting for,
There are prints already there because my body’s impatient for you

Come collapse beside me and come to the realization
That I come to each time we speak
Travel into my mind and down my spine and see what I’m about,
Your lack of contribution makes me weak

Jelisa Jeffery © 2010

Tonight, I spoke into the darkness,
No stars to light my way,
       The black void all encompassing

   My words drifting up in ribbons,
          I waited for something, anything to happen

              I felt a rumble that was akin to ripples emanating from a drop of water hitting a puddle

        I was small next to the impossible,
And when it spoke back, it changed me
      
        The blank canvas of stark black was pierced by blades of light,
    The sky becoming a shutter in a rain storm
           Blowing open and closed
       The words came and wrapped themselves across my body in its entirety
        Constricting my air flow

             I felt myself shatter
  An implosion of feeble glass
       Ricocheting through a skeleton of paper, reflecting the brightness above inside ripped skin

                I was nothing.
                I didn't exist.
                I floated in an incomprehensible place that had no end, no walls

     No ceiling or floor

            Just illumination in every direction

                    I opened my eyes
  
    And was blinded by an incredible radiance

      I shut my eyes tight and swatted in front of me
        My hand struck something metal and I yelped in pain
          
          I shot up and stared downward
    Towards the desklamp unplugged on the floor
        
          Breathing heavily, I sat upright in my bed,
                 Struggling to pull away words that had already sunken in

Writer's block
WS Warner Aug 2012

Providence summons  
Natures purchase,
Beyond prosaic
Utility, toward
Communion.
Austere terrain,
Ice crystal, Dust –
covered
Haunt.
Divine disclosure,
Epiphany;  
Ourselves -
Carnal cisterns of spirit
Enfleshed
Skin; merging
Luminous,  
Savouring,
Design
Ordered by love.

©2012 W.S. Warner

maggie W Apr 2014

I don’t really love them,

They are tools to hide myself from maturity

Today I split them aside

Now there’s a brand new me

Facing you with more sensuality

More biting fingers

and more contemplating

I feel like I could be everything,

your almost-married partner

The angel in the house

Or sweetheart from college.

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