"responding" poems
*The surf provides lullabies
as ocean echoes roll.
Too soon, the sunlight glitters
as the dawn turns gray to gold.
I wake and I rub my eyes
beside the sandy beach
My love beside me, languid lips
within an easy reach.
I whisper, sweet good mornings
as your dreams I brush away.
You stretch and yawn, responding to
requests to "come and play".
Lingered memories caress,
of last night's rising moon
with silver waves and ripples,
beyond the dark lagoon.
In shades of colors that mix and smudge
you take your time, no rush
My ******* tingle, at the thought
upon my skin, spreads flush.
In reverie, flutters reminisce,
your wanton body on mine.
Whispered moans in my ear, you ******
"I'm yours", I hear on rewind.*
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
"DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE" PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS AND REPOST TRY TO KEEP IT GOING: HELLOPOETRY "DEAR BLANK" CHALLENGE SECRET SANTA POEMS EXCEPT NOT SECRET AND NOT SANTA RANDOM ACT/POEM OF KINDNESS STRANGER POETRY APPRECIATION
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. If you need an example I just posted DEAR IMALRIGHT which was exactly what I meant. Check out imalright's poetry btw it is amazing.
I plan on doing for more than one person and I'd love for you to do the same. Spread a little kindness, we could all use a little.
Also message me if you are going to do the challenge and message the stranger you do the DEAR BLANK challenge for so they know to look for and read your poem.
I just thought that Imalright who was a perfect stranger to me seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on her poetry so I chose her.
You do that too if you accept the DEAR BLANK challenge.
INCLUDE DEARBLANKCHALLENGE AS A HASHTAG IF YOU DO THE CHALLENGE SO EVERYONE CAN FIND THEM
please repost this over and over so we can get as many people involved as possible and try and make a difference in a couple people's lives because I just want to make everyone feel loved but I'm just one girl, I can't do it alone. Please help me with this and join me in the DEAR BLANK challenge. Take time out of your day to properly appreciate someone's poetry who you do not know.
PLEASE REPOST LET'S GET EVERYONE INVOLVED!!! ;D
THANKS!
-EMBER EVANESCENT
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
In our world technological,
Here's how to talk to gadgets digital,
"Now, listen up, keyboard and router,
Not to mention dysfunctional mouser...
Are you listening to me carefully?
(I am talking to them, but silently),
I do have replacements for each of thee,
I see a future ahead of you three,
Tossed into the gaping jaws of a bin,
off to the council tip, repository of sin,
Did you hear that? Listening in,
Stop trying to do my head in!"
Now they're behaving dutifully,
Technology responding beautifully,
"I'm warning each one of thee,
No more messing around with me!"
Yes, how to talk to technology!
(But make sure you do it silently!)
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
after five
times the poem
of thy remembrance
surprises with refrain
of unreasoning summer
that by responding
ways cloaked with renewal
my body turns toward
thee
again for the stars have been
finished in the nobler trees and
the language of leaves repeats
eventual perfection
while east deserves of dawn.
i lie at length,breathing
with shut eyes
the sweet earth where thou liest
18.3k
Poverty
Blurred Pigments of Red and blue
Bring to mind the police
Responding to our crises
Aptly and alert
Though upon arrival
It’s pure brutality…
They oppress and beat
Abuse and misuse
Break our spirits
Lowering us deeper into this
Depression…
No… it’s and economic Recession…
In which inequalities are abound
For the rich stay rich
While the poor fall hungry
And We…
The…
People….
Fall beyond Poverty…
Straight Through The misguided…
Rage of the government…
And Deeper than just a simple
Economic Inequality…
We’ve
Reached
The
Poverty Stricken
Greatest Recession….
Known As
A Secondary Great Depression….
Sep 12, 2009
Sep 12, 2009 at 4:12 PM UTC
Do you pause
your video game
to answer her back?
Or do you keep answers short until
she stops responding,
like I do?
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
Happy birthday.
Another year has gone by
And hopefully well spent.
I haven’t seen you this year,
Nor will I see you the next time I wish you a happy birthday.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face at all.
Or heard your voice,
Listened to your laugh,
Or seen your smile.
What happened?
What happened to us?
Why did we pull apart like we did?
I mean, I know why I walked away.
I walked away for my own sanity.
But you,
You don’t have an excuse.
No, you just walked out.
You just walked out and left me here.
Left me alone.
Left me broken and hurt and scared and sad.
Not knowing what in the hell to do with myself.
You left me here to bleed out.
But that was years ago, right?
So what?
The past is the past.
Doesn’t matter now.
Okay, I’ll accept that.
I’ll pick myself up and I’ll walk on.
But why is it that whenever I hear someone say my name
For a split second, I think it’s you?
Some days I’m disappointed when it’s not.
And other days
I hold my breath hoping it’s someone else.
Happy birthday.
Another year has gone by of you breaking promises.
Another year has gone by of you breaking hearts.
And treating the people that love you the most like ****
Happy birthday.
Even though you never call me on mine.
Even though I remember your birthday better then I remember how to breathe in the morning.
No matter how much I try to forget your birthday I’ll never get it out of my head.
I’ll always remember the day you were born,
I mean, how could I forget the day that my worst nightmare was born.
Happy birthday
To the one that crushed me.
Happy birthday.
Happy birthday.
Happy birthday.
I repeat it as if it is a mantra to give me my sanity back.
You don’t have to answer my texts,
That’s fine.
I just want you to know that I’m wishing you a happy birthday.
And for every year that you have the same number
I will continue to wish you a happy birthday.
I you feel like responding, you will text back,
“Thanks.
How have you been?”
I will respond with,
“I’m doing fine,
How about you?”
And then you will go on a tirade for 20 or 30 minutes about how great your life is
Or how sad it is.
And then you’ll ask me,
“So, what've you been up to?”
And I’ll probably get one "I've been good" out before you say,
“Yeah, that’s nice.
It’s been good talking to you.
Bye.”
And I’ll sit there holding my phone in some state of shock.
I’ll try to replay the conversation.
Trying to replay every one of our conversations.
Trying to see where it went wrong.
Trying to figure out where the laughs and the “how are you”s and the “oh my gosh I missed you”s
Turned into “I can’t stand this conversation.”
“Make her shut up.”
“I have to go.”
Where did that switch happen?
Even though you treat me like **** and looking back you always have.
Even though you took the person I was and you pushed her away.
And you pushed her inside a box and stuck her in some damp closet where I couldn’t reach her.
Even though you turned me into someone I wasn’t.
Someone I didn’t want to be.
I will always wish you a happy birthday.
Cause even though you used me so much,
Part of me still hopes you love me.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC
Games between Earth and another space world
But it’s Level 2 through 5 in swirl
Various games testing your ability to win
‘It’s all levels calling the stops at the very end
The wrong Earth message sent to unknown space
It’s the Earth from the outer world of space who wants to erase
It’s the video games of commerce and the Earth responding in defense
Strategy with a theory of game perfection
Knowledge with the power in how one will win
It’s was all the past thinking comprising from then
Level’s up and talent of one’s hands
Video movement and watching with keen control commands
Making elevating scores being a caravan
Earth being on an objective move
The other world with wizardry in fool on the top of being cruel
Professional video game players becoming their own challenge in saving the world
The outer world being defeated and their resources depleted
A delete on the outer world terms
Think positive in knowing you have achieved and the welcomed honor to proceed
Video games being one’s pure success, but those who can conquer are the masters who are the best.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Thousands of us were displaced
Started careers late
Not lucky enough to have had great jobs
So we work hard
Put ourselves through night school
While taking care of family
Finally ...
Yes, yeah, whoopee
Did it !
Once again completed school
Another certificate added to the growing list of achievements.
More bills owed to uncle Sam
Going on numerous job interviews
No one's responding
Instead ...
All this knowledge stored in your head
Current jobs pays minimum wages
Those colleges attended; mounting
When you try to get ahead -
They hold on to their employments
As if,
It's Rocket science
Looking for younger, greener admits
Once AARP comes a knocking on
Your door
You know they don't want your
Expertise anymore
What's one to do
Still strong, healthy, seasoned
Educated, no strings to boot
Hopelessly stuck in a world of
"We will call you "
So at the tender age of fifty
Thoughts of starting your own business floats in your head
Right
Now, back to school
For another certificate
A chance to use that knowledge
Put bread on the table
Feel useful
Quality of life renewed.
JRap /2016
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
He’s no longer responding
It’s perplexing
Because no one knows why
Yesterday he was doing just fine
And in this room it’s frightening quite
Because everyone knows he’s about to die
His mother angrily yells at the doctor
While she stands over his bed
Why! Why!
My baby
This is my son
And he’s not going to die
Devante Devante
I can hear her repeating my name
But the sounds of the world has finally gone mute
And the lights of the room ceiling
Slowly
Fade to black
And if you crying over my shoulder right now
I’m sorry
I tried to fight it
But I just couldn’t fight my way back
I was to lost
Let myself be overcome with pain and misery
Unhappiness was my purgatory
But at what cost
My life
Yes my life
I gave it away
I’d do anything just to feel a little less
It’s why I injected myself
With an illegal amount
Of morphine
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
00:31 and it's been about an hour since i saw you'd removed the word "happiness" from your caption
and ever since then it's been all i can do to
overthink; it's all i can ever do
wondering if, maybe, just maybe, you'd finally seen what i see
how i am not good enough for you
i lose myself inside these thoughts at night when loneliness is my only company
and darkness is my only right hand man, doing me no wrong
i think about the times i've held your hand and then suddenly
he hugs me tighter than anybody ever has, darkness, that old friend of
mine - something which you are yet to be... hopefully
i'd be yours, too, if you'd have me
but i'm overthinking again, just always overthinking
you said you needed time before we could begin now i'm starting to think we never will
i get the need for space, i really do
i'm just so insecure i feel like i'll be replaced by you
baby
you give me panic attacks
and i think about you, your smile, your laugh
how you removed "happiness" from your caption on that photo of us
and now i'm wondering if i was the one that did it somehow, thinking maybe i ****** up already
how is it that we're not even together and i can already feel myself rattling
my nerves responding to a break-up that hasn't even happened
i guess that's just part of how broken i really am
i closed my eyes and let my head hit the pillow three hours ago
how is it that i'm more wide awake now than i was then?
all i want to do is sleep yet here i am
my mind a merciless prison - i tell you: thinking murders me
i'm begging you to figure yourself out before my paranoid anxiety does it for you
please
i'm such an impatient man
patience is a virtue, they say, and i guess i have neither
patience nor virtue
just another of the many ways that
i'm not good enough
for you.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
Have you heard of the
gardens clandestines grow?
The neighbors have, although
until today the gardens were usual, not a
pastime no one would seriously guess.
The flowers are conceptual homonyms
bordered by Boxwood africans
no breadwinning cardinal would bless
with its roost.
Grass beneath a golden ninebark
is slightly depressed where some pistol was.
For the past few years the neighbors have wondered daily What the hell is it this guy does?
What, with him always vaguely mumbling "...lots of business trips." It's dark
now, blood spatter coagulates on the picket fence.
Four tire streaks on the road,
the responding policemen kept it hushed, speaking in code
to disembodied voices on a radio. Not much more than a glance
and shrug at the neighbors' concerned inquiries.
One consensus formed: he was deep
in consequences from promises he couldn't keep.
This was speculative, of course.
The palm trees
rustled above their heads. "Maybe he was a clandestine,"
one of the neighbors remarked
as another dismissively barked,
"Ridiculous! He kept a garden!"
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
P-Postponing all those things until another time
R-Rostering them for attention down the track
O-Offering all sorts of excuses stalls one's climb
C-Constantly one defers the mounting job stack
R-Repeatedly ignoring their pealing bell chimes
A-Acting upon them requires an assertive knack
S-Still one avers in responding to their rhymes
T-Taking not a step forward nor any back
I-Initiative and get in and do it isn't one's paradigm
N-Never does one heed their ever tolling clacks
A-Always sitting in an idle non moving show time
T-The day shall arrive with a great waking whack
I-Into motion one shall soon be called to climb
O-On one's toes the chores are waiting in the rack
N-No more disregarding the many sounding chimes
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
crazy idea, silly notion,
then again,
come back, circle around,
why not, you ask yourself
now prior to posting hereon,
every word with extra care reviewed
sharing, checking in
with my beloveds,
here, those gone/disappeared
telling myself
telling anyone,
talking to you
letting you know
my grace, your grace,
one and the same,
my face, your face,
my child, my son
know you're
checking in,
checking out,
the comings,
the goings,
knowing full and well,
I see you,
my face, your face
everywhere and everyday
our conversation never ending,
look for me here,
at the intersection
of memory and what's up,
you see my messages,
responding in a thousand
different ways,
our dialogue unending,
formally organized
Face to Facebook,
your face, my Facebook
my child, my son
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 6:34 AM UTC
I misplaced my love
in you,
blame it on my
running away
and these too-big shoes.
I gave myself away
to the crowd,
Found comfort
in being diluted,
drowned out
in this generic loud,
in someone who's proud
of my shape-shifting,
chameleon-tongued sound.
I’ve been responding
to the wrong name.
Lately just
a look of loss
and the chest pressure
of shame.
Beloved mistakes hang
butchered,
in the mirror’s frame.
I found myself
in a pawn shop,
without enough
cents to reclaim.
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 10:18 AM UTC
Finally this day has come.
To get another go with the sun,
A year has it been since the daylight shun.
The shadows of Mordor were almost to get me done.
What a fine day to have an adventure.
Having to save a princess as a departure.
The signs are being obvious
Birds are flying back to the Mountain,
There is no time to be in bore,
I need to hurry and reclaim back my Erebor.
I’m in wonder of what she is doing.
Probably she made plans already by now.
Or maybe she didn’t decide on going.
Thought that she might be Lonely under the Mountain.
I have to get going to save her plain,
Must get her out quickly of that fiery chain.
But wait, What’s this?
My legs are unable to move.
Why is my heart trembling with fear?
I’ve been waiting for this my entire time,
I don’t get it.
I don’t get it at all.
I’m shaking pathetically,
This is getting ridiculously annoying.
Move it! Why is my body not responding?
I can’t control my body no more
It’s totally stuck!
Is the sun causing this?
But I’m no troll to be affected by this.
I’m the Bilbo on this journey,
I’m the appointed burglar
To steal the precious Arkenstone
So what’s happening now really?
Am I scared that much
That my own body is doing what I should be doing?
If this fear is about the journey I’ll take,
The dangers I’ll encounter,
The perils I’ll meet.
That wouldn’t be a serious problem for me not to go.
But it’s different.
This doesn’t make sense.
I need to get rid of this fence.
But It’s no use,
I’m stuck in this hole in fuse.
Stuck in this Shire,
While that desolator Smaug is causing fire.
I’ve forgotten the time.
The shadows are back.
Here I am underneath the moon’s refine,
Standing still in charcoal leather black
Not resisting anymore.
I completely stood in my own accord.
Tears are spilling down my face.
I can feel in my veins the sorrow,
And thinking about it made me wonder
If I can make it til tomorrow.
Then,
So sudden it came to me in a flash
The reason why I did not move
Why I did not meet her.
It’s because a year ago I was there.
In front of her.
My precious Arkenstone Under the Mountains
The kings jewel.
The jewel that rejected my tiny hands,
That reached beyond the Middle of Earth
Just for her.
The same jewel that replaced me with a greed of a dragon.
That burned the glow of what’s inside me.
And now I remember it all.
Clear as the sky above me.
I am no Bilbo Baggins.
There is no treasure waiting for me.
No adventure as destination.
Because this,
This is just the Anniversary of my Rejection.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
No reason to be precious about it,
it's best to just be blunt,
she's got a helluva ****
I could wax poetic, swooning like a
love-drunk boy, but what's the point?
Sharing, expressing, defining the spell
is futile. *** with her is like
dancing with god.
Finally, at fifty, I feel the
vibration of lovesongs.
Not in my ears, deeper than any sense can taste.
Lost for hours in life, in bonding; finally
knowing the only knowledge worth knowing
She teaches by just being.
Responding, absorbing, inspiring,
implanting new sensations and
bringing me out of me.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
Asking a question does more than fill open space.
It expresses curiosity.
Devolving into things not easily expressed.
Given our availability.
It expresses a deeper need for connection.
Whether we are open to what we desire most.
Closed off to preference.
The right time of day or night we can de-clutter.
Taking in what we give out.
Asking a question isn't something done out of boredom.
Or merely because your there.
It expresses a thought that requires action.
That I've thought of you.
That there is a desire laid bare.
An anticipation that builds until the next time
I am able to hear your voice.
For the more serious moments require a deeper tone.
An ear that senses deeper need.
Responding to this deep need of connection.
A need of care.
A need of longing.
To respond to this vulnerability not out of responsibility.
But in the openness of being
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
Fig Newton Vanilla Wafers
Like sand through an hourglass
The smell of Doublemint Wrigley’s
Gum that lingers in the air like
Your poltergeist hanging on a string
Chicken and dumplings
Christmas at your place
There were so many pictures and
Do you remember me anymore?
Quicksand neurons coughing up
Phlegm and congestive heart failure
Diabetic membranes hooked up to pacemakers
You’re kidneys were caustic waste bins
And you ****** yourself
Cancer Cancer
Don’t shut your eyes
***** and hypertension
Hyperventilation
My mother is crying
I’m crying
Don’t die
Please don't die
"She’s not responding"
"Somebody say something"
Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
This poem is a Google Adwords ad,
Intruding into the sidebar of your heart.
It’s a 1-800-LAWYERS commercial
Making you money off your personal injury.
It’s a brutal, ****** UFC bout,
Weak in its ground game but knows its Jiu-Jitsu
And it’s got you on the mat, begging you to tap out.
This poem is *****
a SNAFU waiting to happen.
It’s the sarin gas Syria used against its own
And it’s the attack America will be responding with,
Using ****** to punish murderers.
This poem is a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken
Getting your finger-lickin’-good fingers nice and greasy.
This poem is yet another poet writing yet another poem about poems,
With the word poem repeated ad nauseum.
This poem is a bunch of awful band names,
Like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Tapes ‘n Tapes, and Chunk! No, Captain Chunk!.
It’s a summer blockbuster and a teen dystopian trilogy.
It’s riding *****
In your ex’s car.
This poem is anthropogenic global warming
Whose CO2 emissions are dangerously high and climbing
While its polar bears are stranded on the broken ice floes of its verses.
It’s a baseball crowd speaking the words “no hitter”
In the midst of a no-no
Which itself is a no-no.
Its bad grammar, who’s comma’s are all, out of place
And its’ apostrophe’s, are meaningless.
This poem is Zooey Deschanel,
Who will not marry me some day, any day, in the future.
In fact, it doesn’t even know I exist.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
I know I've been there,
I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality
Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images
Of the limitlessness of death
Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all
Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field
But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills
And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us
I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion
Facing cruel destruction and terror
For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity
And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea
All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the
Archetypal wizardry of rhythm,
The swirling clumps of faces in
Unshakable ecstasy
And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought;
A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me
Till they began brushing against me
Bumping into me,
The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation
As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause.
I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd
By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses
And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt
But I yet had no understanding
Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights
Into which I had fallen,
And fear began to envelop me,
Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power.
I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them
But fear tethered me to reality,
Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala
Of my past present and future,
Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant
Of rational logic.
Synchronicity compounded upon me
As the Christos within me
Brought rain down upon us
Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie
Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth
What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact
The awakening of a new rebirth
The first moment of coming to be
The union of past, present and future
As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence
I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us.
Chaos had subsided back into normalcy
But still winked at me
In telepathic coincidence.
My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things
Soon they are to be reintegrated
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
suddenly
i completely
understand
tiktok
it is a direct
result
of the time
and is responding
to a clear
demand
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 11:22 PM UTC
this is not a ******* poem, but you could see it anywhere else i could post
and we can't have that
we can't have me talking to you, texting you, writing about you
and it's not ******* fair
i miss you
you won't talk to me anymore and i don't know what i ******* did
no one talks to me anymore
and i guess i'm not fit for ******* friendship
and i said it was okay if you don't always wanna talk
but you were supposed to still stick around!
i'm glad you're ******* happy
really, truly, i am.
but ******* i just wanna talk to you again.
you're driving me ******* crazy
and you're not even doing anything (but that's the problem isn't it?)
i wanna talk about when i'm scared and tired
and i wanna talk about when you're scared and tired
and i wanna be there for you
and honestly i want more than you just being there for me
when im about to throw myself out of a window
cuz everyone's ******* there when im about to **** myself
i want someone to be there when i'm not, too
i want someone to like me and talk to me (and keep talking)
for some other reason than
"you looked scared"
"i just didn't want you to be completely alone"
"you shouldn't **** yourself, i'll miss you" (well that's sudden)
and i thought you did. i thought we could talk about stuff that wasn't that
i thought we could talk about waffles and popcorn and annoying perfect people
we could talk about parks and rec and about being gay
we could talk about skateboarding and first kisses
and i hoped it would last more than just a little while
but i guess i was ******* wrong
and i always am
and im so mad at you for not responding except when i tell you
im gonna die
im so mad i never wanna talk to you again
**** you for leaving without at least telling me why
but please come back
i thought i had a friend
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 8:48 PM UTC
Slumber is sliding slowly away as wakefulness creeps in
Few hours remain before morning breaks, and I feel his arms around me pulling me back to rest
I feel the warmth of his body and the smell of his skin long before my eyes open to meet the day
I can hear his heart beating its soft steady lullaby against my face on his chest
This amazing man, so loving, so gentle, so kind, yet fiercely protective and loyal; a mixture of perfection
This is what I want, I think to myself, as I start trailing my fingers across his chest
He lets out a low growl in his sleep, his body responding to my touch even in its unconscious state
Does he feel my presence with the same strength that I feel his
Does it permeate his resting mind and infiltrate his dreams
His nakedness next to me is so primal and natural, everything about this feels so right
I study his face, the long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, the cut of his jawline, his lips not long removed from my own
I listen to his soft snoring and smile at its familiar cadence, a sound I couldn't imagine being without now
I wonder if he knows; does he know what he is to me
He is air, he is water, he is food, he is sunlight; nourishing my every need
I worry that I am not enough to fulfill all those needs in him, but I will live my life trying
This is what I want, this moment, this peace, laying on his chest, his arms keeping me safe, our bodies lazily intertwined
This is how I want every day of the rest of my life to begin
He starts to stir and his eyes sleepily open taking me in, he pulls me even deeper into his embrace
I melt into him; happy, peaceful, and content in this moment that I never want to end
Yes this is what I want; this man, right now and always
Good morning my love
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
Such greatness
With such grace
Bestowing
Worthiness on the Unworthy.
Gifting the
Ungifted.
Loving the
Unlovable.
Welcoming the
Unwelcome.
Turning the cheek
I have slapped too many times,
And responding
With a kiss.
I cry.
I wail for His forgiveness
And at the vision of myself
Strutting,
Cocky,
Totally inept
And inconceivably wrong.
And yet,
Grace.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC