"sighes" poems
blues and stars
love and ink
under an opal moon
darkness unravels
unwinds leaves
that fall from
trees that wander
the rain’s ghosts
sighes and
clouds of grey.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
he lies sleeping under
the sage green sheet
on his side turned away
from me and my intrusive light
the sheet is gathers about him
like grass upon the mountain range
that peaks at shoulders and hip
at tne bead head, a tangle
of jungle vines curled and intertwined
and the sound of a bear embarking
on a short winters hibernation
at the foot, ten pebbles of varying size
attached to two size eleven boulders
of a sunbrowned material
aged by sun, surf and sand
yet on the underside
a pale pink, reminiscent
of the delicate inside
of the finest seashell
the grass on the upper reaches
of the moutain range, waves
as the wind sighes in and out
of the bear-cave mouth
and the plains of the lower
shift in small earthquake tremors
before settling in somulant torpor
when my man mountain sleeps ,he sleeps
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
With tears on my eyes,
after all the angry words were written
I sat there, starring at the wall
heart bleeding with words but yet soul silently crying out...
And so I wrote...
Today my soul is silent
but not at peace
Today my soul is listening to my disappointed thoughts and painful heart filled with sorrows singing a verse of complain...
Today my soul is simply just listening, singing a chorus of..."its ok its ok its ok"
and my spirit sighes as it listens..
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
it is 11:26 at night and i want skin to skin contact.
i want your hips and my hips
your thighs and my thighs,
your lips and my lips.
i want parallel lines to be demonstrated with our bodies.
it is 11:27 at night and i suddenly want to know how you move,
how your joints ache, which scars you hide
and which scars you aren't afraid of talking about anymore. i want to know about the collection of bruises you have.
what makes you sigh and which kind of sighes you sigh under bed sheets and how they differ from your sad sighs.
it is 11:31 at night and i have no idea how to tell you that i want my teeth to grasp your lip and my fingers touching the small of your back, the arch in your muscles and your breath.
it is 11:33 and i promise this is not a *** poem.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
Let's lay together
under moonlit skies
where the stars
twinkle like candlelight,
let's whisper softly
with gentlest of sighes
love's sweetest words
as we're entwined tonight.
Nothing else
needs to be said
just our hearts
speaking with every beat,
as I lay here with you
resting my chestnut head
our love quoting volume and verse
in love words ever so sweet.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 4:40 PM UTC
Forgive me, love.
My affection for you
cannot be conveyed
in words or poems.
It is a well that
must be drunk from
by your own lips.
It needs the language
of fingers and kisses
and skin and sighes.
When we reach
the moment
when we can speak
the tactile tongue
of love face to face,
you will know just
who I am and why
I need you in my life.
Until then, these
poor words must suffice.
Take them, a part of me,
and all I can give
in this moment.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
An eye catching dream
While the man still alive
And eyes wide open
Not to be touched
By a gentel word
Just keep life six feet down
Traps all have set
To the cruelest way possible
Sighes and sweat
Will tear apart the blood
The man meditate
In the forbidden city of life
shanikayrs_
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC