"slaked" poems
No-one told the snowdrops
that the world is coming to an end
that there is no sense in trying anymore
that darkness has finally defeated the light
And ignorant of the truth
they push once more
through the mould and grit
raising their heads above ground
Stopping me in my tracks.
Oh yes! Things used to live here!
The wan Scottish sun used to warm us
and the endless pounding rain slaked thirst
and pumped like blood into new life and hope.
How did we forget?
And they change everything.
They change everything.
They return the world to the state they need it to be in,
they are nodding heralds of the coming supernova
which will happen
with us
or
without us.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 3:13 AM UTC
and
just like that
I am falling
unfolding in your eyes
layers of shadows unraveling
in polar-laced
spirals of hunger
deep freeze melting upon tongue
an icy build-up
thawed in seconds
for my very cells burn
beneath your gaze
as you take in the fullness
of my presence
despite the smoky,
glass-paned haze
My presence-
suffused with
the darkness of silk-
I want it to graze your skin
the most gentle feather
stroking emotion
coaxing out the
delicately-wrapped
firestones in you
spinning them into
a frenzied lava-slaked ocean
and then those unexplained,
flurried lattice flakes
that somehow soothe and cool
within this inferno
of just-missed proximity
My essence
is cast like a net
over you
as we dive into
the volumes
as I pull the
heated visions out of your mind
feel your heart's closest
most tiny reverberations
little beats barely heard
yet in some unlikely way
pump blood into mine
Undo me
as my wet blue pools
dissolve into yours
my trussed-up implosions
flowing out in air-spun tempest
Unwrap my defenses
a soldered-up dam breaking
a glass tubular bell
hairline fracture quaking
Strip me bare
no need to even touch me
for the vapors of
your voice
remove the layers
of debris
like the steam of earth
irons out
the blackened quilt of sky
to reveal
the altar
of our
stars
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC
The sky was a cornflower
and the trees heavy
with birdsong
air fragrant with freshness
cooling the silk of my bare
heat rising from my
skin in shades of
tropical
morning pond
oasis of damp promise
teeming with life
under surface
mini color-popped creatures
humming with
fluorescent vitality
fronds reaching out
in an aquatic dance
nourishing the gateway
to inner organs
with sweet
vitamin love
as a trip of
buzzing, faintly heard
opens into my brainwave
revitalizing
cleaning out toxicity
pushing out
words that lower
self-worth
bringing up subconscious
potions of power
harmonious with the new,
embryonic fluid of clear
reaching deep
into corners of
brittle heartdust
And my lotus soul opens
a small glowing orb
expanding in polychrome prisms
to the glory of
aurora-tipped streaks
as straight into
my aching heart
the quenching dawn
speaks
My thirst slaked by
nature's mantra,
I now stand waist-deep
into grounded
and heavenly clarity,
feeling water lilies bloom
between my thighs
as I take the occasion
to pick up the pieces
where my soul
left off
and despite all odds,
arise
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
I was once a castaway
Of an unforgiving sea
I made a castle in the sand
To ease the pain in me
I made the ramparts ten feet tall
The walls were four feet thick
I filled the moat with lots of sharks
I built it brick by brick
I walked the walls most every day
No rescuer about
But I did not want folks to come in
I wished to keep them out!
The sand was cast in hate you see
The mortar my foe's blood
I repaired the walls quite often 'coz
My inner tears would flood
Within the walls, a prisoner,
My anger was my meat
My only water my own tears
They washed about my feet
Finally the water rose,
From weeping, o'r my head
Their waves erroded at the walls
And the SEA was fed!
Whilst the walls were quickly shrinking
A tide, like floods, came in!
All the sharks went out to sea,
My destiny was grim!
I made a fine, tall castle, yes,
Of sand & shells & grout
To shelter me within? Oh no!
To keep my loved ones OUT!
And others unforgiven.
And the ones I hated.
And other prejudices, yes,
That went on unabated...
And so I found a Mighty Rock
Upon which I stood.
I finally found life's meaning, *YES!
I finally understood!*
Forgiveness? A DECISION.
To put pride on the shelf.
And freeing up your fellow man
You become FREE YOURSELF.
Though for years, I drank my tears,
My thirst was never slaked.
And hatred's fused & melted sand
Does not a DIAMOND MAKE.
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/3/2017
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 10:21 PM UTC
a yellow bedroom
in the future
holds some promise
that joy inspired
smiles can hold
together things that
seem most important
and gotta be
since i have
put so much
stock in this
right along with
you yet your
tears last night
accompanied with your
voice quivering over
that machine struck
so much fear
and anguish into
my bones that
my marrow feels
pain and my
heart beats harder
and my lungs
become desperate enough
to make me
realize i am
no longer independent
you and i
are a part
of each other
even though we
are miles separated
with a feeling
of dehydration and
such a thirst
that can only
be slaked by
your everywhere hair
with a knot
and your eyes
that slay me
every single time
i dream of
them.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***
She moves her entire form
Across the room
pushing solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging her intent.
Retreating nine steps
To gather
Her acumen in dripping her clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged
His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli - clenched
resonates as her own.
Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.
She tastes his pulse
Derma puckering sweat globules
Redolent aeriform vapor corpuscles
declaring his need.
Fingers supporting her upper weight
she glides - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet
Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape
Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders
Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft
Kneeling
Primed
Proud
She flicks the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
She renders garment to puddle
half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette
Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
Iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal
Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline inoculation.
Latent dribble invokes tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Anger, bitterness, sadness, and regret
What strong emotions these are to be felt.
What horrible things for someone to feel.
Makes me picture the colors blue and black
Makes me think of bruises and tears.
Loss, lonliness, confusion and hurt.
I want to just make them all go away
I want to make your heart stop bleeding
I want to stop your mind from aching
I want to dry your falling tears and make the world a better place for you to be in.
Lies, deceit, pain, and termoil
These make up the world now days
Everyone hurts everyone without a second thought
No one cares they are evil and selfish.
Sin, loss, darkness, and sorrow
What sad things
What lonely things
What frightening and dark things
How do I go on living with these
How do I not perish into the night.
Money, *** ***** and drugs
Thats what you do to cope
That's what you long for
It's an unquenchable thirst that can't be slaked
Alternates the way you think.
Abuse, neglect, hurtful words, and agony
The yelling and screaming
The hitting and beating
I know these aches
I have felt these things.
I detest them so much
What agonizing pains.
Stupidity, hatred, carelessness, and shame.
What things to feel
What heavy burdens to bear
What thoughtless things
What hurtful things
How does one live with these things
What a better place this world may be without all these things in it
They will eat you alive and swallow you whole
Make you black and cold
Bitter and scaved
I know about all these things
I have felt all these things....
© Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
When you put me in front of everyone or anything
I will promise you love everlasting
But something will always feel like it's missing
When I give you the cold shoulder
And my mood swings drive you crazy
You will soon discover that I am not perfect
That my heart was aborted before it got to be reborn
I know my imperfections will harm you reflection when you look in the mirror of your own mind
But I'll ****** you so you will stay my knight in shining armor
And you will make me your bride
So it will be til death do us part
Playing poker only to find I'll be holding more than your heart
I'll be a reminder of what's behind you
No matter how your mind spins it there I'll be
We will fight to stay alive
But in the end our time will be spent trying to make amends
for things we could of done better
And I'll remain by your side
But only because there's no where left for me to hide
I'll give til there's nothing left
And you will take just like all the rest
I will suffocate you with my wants and needs
And in the end that's what will make you leave
I'll try and entice you to stay
But the intrigue won't be enough to keep you from walking away
You will crave my touch as you lie down at night
But you will feel so much spite
I'll become a mere illusion in your mind
I'll haunt your dreams until you unravel and bust at the seams
And the truth will come to you in waves of sheer perfection
And regret will be your first reaction
In the end we will end up perplexed and alone
We will be filled with bitterness, sadness, and hurt
Our souls will ache and starve
For our soulmate that is gone
With broken hearts we will barely survive
Our lust never slaked, alone
We will hunger and thirst for a love
That could never exist.
© Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
We creep through the forest carefully so as not to make a sound
The beast lifts it's enormous scaled head, looks left and right and goes back to its slumber
To his death are our fates bound
Confident that we'll slay him with a superior number
The thief flanks the beast to the right
The chevalier to the left
Together with 2 masters of elements we will eradicate this blight
With our weapons poised and ready to strike this beast we will best
The fight is long and gruelling with advantages going both ways
With horror I see my companions succumb to their fate
My friends sacrifices shall not go to waste
Only the beast's death will my wrath be slaked
Finally I see the beast flagging as I cast spell after spell
When suddenly I realized that my body has lost its power of motion
With a great big roar, a fatal blow I was dealt
Flaws in my abilities has the beast proven
I look at my hands and watch in horror as the lack of light signifies death
"Aargh" I screamed and the wife runs in looking at me with concern
"My controller's battery has died" I cry in distress
"And I forgot to save my game for the past 2 hours! There goes my progress totally burnt! "
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Flayed lord of the harvest
Robed in mortal’s meat
He wears men’s hands upon his hands
Feet upon his feet
Human faces are wrapped tight across his darkened skull
In his hands he grips the fertile seeds
In his likeness
Dresses the mortal priest
Before the reap of the planted
The harvest must be blessed
The fatal flint of arrow tips must pierce through limbs and breast
It must coax the sanguine
To spurt in river flows
Their death brings balance
Clouds and godly quenching heaven rain
After the earth is slaked
The seeds must be kissed
Kissed by the cracking sounds of flesh
Torn by tearing whips
Just as the skin is split
So shall the shell of seed
The maize will flourish in tall stalks of vibrant fibrous greens
At rite’s final end
The mortal priest shall dance
He shall feel the skin upon his skin
The hands upon his hands
He will be Xipe Totec
He shall perform his will
Until his vessel’s vessel is potted in the tight bowled clay
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 4:25 PM UTC
Chased mercilessly
over well- worn tar
palpable loss pushes
a sable brush
dunked in dread
a furious deluge
of fear
oozes out
blackens every inch
of familiar landscape
what if’s
eat through
the still static blue horizon
making a meal
of unborn dreams
slaked only by
hastily grabbed
history
coupled with
ragged spirits
that desperately
haul hope north
safe haven
on strange soil
still dark hours
away
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
She took the beatings, the
Blood smearing her skin
Took the lashings, and the slaps,
And hid her grin
The first time a man gripped her thighs,
Ripped them apart, and forced his way
Past her heart, numbing her to love,
Then threw her away
Numbed down deep to her soul,
She almost broke, almost cried,
Almost tied the knot tight, and
Almost,
almost,
almost died
She gave birth to generations
Told them her stories and
Unto them she bequeathed
All her spirit and her worries
She reached past the pain,
Pushed past the slaked lust
Turned herself inside out
Despite the bruises and distrust
She built her walls high,
Enough to endure the storms life
Somehow thought she could survive
And relished a calm from the strife
A destiny couldn’t be resisted
Nevertheless, she persisted
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:40 PM UTC
Love-Dust.
A heart's entrance door
opens only from inside to outwards
and once ajar, before
blinking at expressive freedom sees
love's unknown wonder.
Soul- secrets when told will astound
love's doubt through
meant whispers into dreamer's ears
then pour nectar over
each fur-lined ache of hurting need
as Cupid refills fonts
with sating love-dust. until slaked
is thirst by no more want.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 10:03 AM UTC
She emerged from the mist of a never ending fairy tale that was mistaken as a horror story and spread her wings to breathe death upon all who sort to strip from her the scales that had bought her glory and wrought death and destruction early on roaring I love to wake in the morning to the smell of chicken cacciatore!
But the days turned to weeks turned to months turned to forever when they just went on and on and the people she once terrorized died and turned to dust (if they escaped her justice) and she never aged one day over time. She sat back and snorted as her rage curled like smoke from a dying fire and contemplated that all her rage had dissipated and she had lost all her spark with her diminishing ire…
So she retreated to her lair deep in the Carpathians to contemplate her too long fate and only ever emerged to hunt (yes, she still ate) Her motto of Meat is fair game never changed, she was Dragon, her physiology stayed the same but she made sure it was a clean **** out of necessity, not borne of fear and went back to her cave to lick her tail while studying her navel and sniffing back the occasional tear
On a particularly cold and blustery night, a bard, who was following the latest in season ‘now’ knight lost his way and stumbled into her cave and gave both of them a fright. She recognized his poet heart and he recognized her, from the start and she agreed not to eat him if he carried her musing to the heart of the people… so began a mutual understanding of the words that would be impart
She understood that her words would be the water that slaked a raging fire and would show others that she was angry but they had nothing to fear from her in the least and when she spoke and accidently let loose the fire in her heart then she felt contrite but there was nothing she could do about her inner beast.
All she wanted was the world to know that she had something to say and it was important that they looked beyond what they saw with their own eyes and ignored her form and looked into her heart.
She ate the bard, he was a tasty treat. She realized she was able to speak to the world, without interference because she was otherwise human and could embrace that part.
PS:
She still occasionally terrifies small children and is partial to animals for a quick snack but she remembers to walk among the village with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye and knows that her words will give back :)
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC
He beheld an orphan as he rode by,
Not even her beauty could he bye.
A master of many slaves he was,
Who had just returned from the war.
Her chastity overwhelmed his senses,
That he was bound to keep her within his fences.
He tied with her the marital knot,
Showering his affection on her a lot.
Came night, he took her home in his carriage,
To consummate their blissful marriage.
In weeks there was a conception,
And he planned at the birth of his child a stupendous reception.
Come due time, the midwives held to him his new baby,
And when he laid eyes on it, his love died for his lady,
For the baby had the skin colour of a slave,
And he wondered if she had had an illicit affair behind him, slaked.
He was greatly in shame,
Not even her cries of innocence could redeem his fame.
He visited no more her bed,
For he would rather keep company with the birds.
He had broken her heart
And turned his attention to art.
Come one morning, he cast her out.
With her child, her fostal parents she sought.
All her belongings, he brought out to be burnt,
And there he discovered the letter of his brunt.
His slave mother writing to his white father,
That if his true identity was hidden, it wouldn't matter.
Now he knew, he was a mixed-race
Who had discriminately thrown out, his lovely wife who vanished had without a trace.
And his black baby he had scorned,
When his mixed blood had been the very thorn.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
Lately
I've tried desperately to delete me.
I guess it's not really up to me
to successfully destroy what i did not create.
Truly
I do not take this life lightly.
O.k. maybe I do slightly.
Because sometimes I feel like a mistake.
Forgive me
This is not the best side of me.
Only the side that really hates me.
On my soul it feeds and is never slaked.
Believe me
If I could control this I would be.
Because I'm not into hating me.
But now it's much too late.
For everything I hear and everything I see,
tells no one here loves me but pain and grief.
For all the love I've given and all the love I've had.
A darker remnant I am now of
just a man eternally sad.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
“Swallowing Pearls and Lace”
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***
I moved my entire form
Across the room
Pushing his solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging my intent.
Retreating nine steps
To gather
my acumen in dripping my clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged
His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli –
Clenched -
resonates as my own.
Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.
I taste his pulse
Derma puckering sweat
Redolent vapor
Knotting between each pore – skin taut
declaring his need.
Fingers supporting my upper weight
I glide - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet
Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape
Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders
Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft
Kneeling
Primed
Proud
I flick the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
rendering garment to puddle
half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette
Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
His iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal
Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline
Latent dribble invokes my tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
My thirst it has been slaked
my hunger has been sated
today I feasted on your words
drank all that you created
A drought it was that I had suffered
these past few lonely days
I had lived among the starving
missing your poetic ways
But today the rains came once again
and what a crop they brought
I hope it rains again tomorrow
so others see what I have sought
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 1:01 PM UTC
With every passing day my body begs,
Consider that all drink, all food consumed
Will shorten breath, and weigh on swollen legs.
But thirst and palate are no less attuned
Though appetite has slaked as time goes by.
Instead of gluttony, I must select;
Notice what I eat and drink and why
To savor flavor to its best affect.
A poet learns their mindfulness of words
The same. With small or no restraint at all,
They gorge themselves on overstuffed buffets,
Well-salted with their tears. Yet, to be heard,
A simpler line cuts through the caterwaul
And quenches thirst and hunger on its way.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 3:25 AM UTC
Touch me and caress me until my heart sings with joy
Let it be only for the sheer love of me
Then my heart will soar
And together in rapturous ascent we’ll be borne on a thermal of passion and desire
Circling and dancing
Each lost, yet found, in the ecstasy of surrender.
Slaked by careless loving
There’s peacefulness
The energy of the moment is gone
And, like feathers gently sinking in still air we settle together, curled, inseparable
Feeling whole and also part of a greater whole
Until the next breeze blows
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 10:50 AM UTC
Lean in
I'll take you
in the mouth
Kneeling
Primed
Proud
half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette
lax jaw
focus
Iris entreats
narrowed corneal withdrawal
agape
brine – saccharine globules
dactyl dance on your calf
I capture all - deglutition
slaked smile
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Haze scatters blue light on a planet.
Frought women, livid, made into peonies by Aphrodites that caught their men flirting and blamed the women, flushed red.
Frought women, livid, chrysanthemums, dimmed until the end of the season, exchanged and retained like property.
Blue women enter along the sides of her red Torii gates,
belayed, branded and belled,
a plangent sound.
By candles, colored lights and dried flowers,
she’s sitting inside on a concrete floor,
punctures and ruin burnished with paper,
boiling burnt lime from lime mortar.
Glass ***** on the ceiling,
she moves the beads of a Palestinian glass bead bracelet she holds in her hands.
She bends light to make shadows against thin wooden slats curved along the wall
and straight across the ceiling.
A metier, she invents tinctures,
juniper berries and cotton *****
Loamy soil in the center of the room,
a hawthorn tree stands alone,
a gateway for fairies,
large stones at the base protecting,
its branches a barrier.
Its leaves and shoots make bread and cheese.
Its berries, red skin and yellow flesh, make jam.
Green bamboo stakes for the peonies when they whither from the weight of their petals
and lime in the soil,
she adds wood chips to the burnt lime in the kiln,
unrolled paper, spools, and wire hanging.
Wood prayer beads connect her to the earth;
the tassels on the end of the beads connect her to spirit, to higher truth.
Minerals, marine mud and warm basins of seawater on a flower covered desk,
she adds slaked lime to the burnt lime and wood chips.
The lime converts to paper,
trauma victims speak,
light through butterfly wings.
She’s plumeria with curved petals, thick, holding water.
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 2:48 PM UTC
Impending fury
clings
to closed eyelids
palpable loss
a sable brush
dunked in dread
blackens every inch
of familiar landscape
what if’s
eat through
the static blue horizon
making a meal
of unborn dreams
slaked only by
hastily grabbed
history
ragged spirits
haul hope
on well- worn tar
safe haven
still pages away
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC