When you find yourself
wrapped in loneliness
or violently suspended
by a rogue desire,

uncloak yourself.
fight free.
you are always
in control.

Uncloak yourself
In the heavy summer heat
And let me see you
In all your beauty
The scars on your upper thighs
And on your stomach
Should be trophies for you
To shine like gold
In the sun
Because they shout to the world
“I am still here.”

Bright as the light that cleaves through the night
In the evening's fading firey field,
You come to me, with a hawks grace.
Glimmering, august angel.
For you, I gild my tongue,
so my words may shine, though I fear,
not nearly as bright, as the glow,
of your unfettered majesty.

Were I not already unclothed
I would tear through each article,
so as to expose to you,
that which you may claim, and partake.
With a pulsing pleasure, for each dazzling deed
In the most sprightly shower of starlight,
I wait for you to make your claim.

Uncloak here before me
remove that golden robe,
and reveal your glory, before these eyes
Neither slave or mistress should you be,
As the lions who have fought to a standstill,
concede, let us proceed in blessed equality.
And bed in the short cut grass, beneath the linden.

You, whose mouth is a temple,
With seven seals of satisfaction, concealed inside.
Stay with me, while I am floating in this hope.
Like a songbird released from captivity,
I wish that I could pour your praises from my lips,
Till my tongue is worn and weary...
and the light no longer lingers,
in the lantern of my eyes.

i wander around your territory,
keeping my imprints on your skin.
a sigh of relief and a moan of satisfaction
take you where nowhere you've been.
flicker of my tongue,
the tremble in your voice
move closer,
closer as skin.
the smell of your innocence lingers
in my senses,
the taste of your fear excites me.
the look in your eyes
turmoil in your stare,
the awe in your face humbles my existence.
i a mere mortal in your sight,
a sight of the past.
the past is just a few seconds away.
an eternity will unfold,
walk my path,
uncloak my victim
stand in all your glory.
your presence hungers my foul
reason for living.
my tongue on your skin,
i taste you
you feed me.
your eyes provokes my inner peace.
what do you see?
is it life?
or is it death?
a swift movement,
a tragic death awaits.
my doppelganger sees how you live your life,
while i cant wait how to end it.
the beauty in my voice captivates you.
leading you towards your befall.
you yourself prepared my feast with
your false judgment.
i was never your reason to live
but you were mine.
you cling to my robe the way
you cling to your life.
too late mademoiselle i had your
tombstone made an hour ago.
i undress you,
and taste your love juice one more time.
ecstasy flows down your veins,
you moan in gratitude
i brought you wrath in return.
you cried in a bite-forced.
i smelled life,
i tasted life
but not yours alone.
intriguing i say,
so i sink both fangs deeper.
another blood of total innocence indeed
and it tasted just like mine.
you saw the horror on my face.
you smiled.
you *****!
you let out a soft dying laugh.
delirium hits like a speeding car crashing.
i have killed my own
you deceived me.
you knew my planned deception all along
and countered on your own.
you ***** old hag!
you let yourself get killed
so i could **** him.
a creature of my own,
floating inside your womb.

For let us once
uncloak ourselves,
take this seriousness off.
As if the world would end
on such a missing note.
Just one less frantic tune
to complete the symphony.
Surely one might miss the piccolo
or an oboe, but in the greater scheme,
the concert will go on,
without or without
one missing serious-instrument.

So, strum on
in a vibrant key,
let yourself go
from all your troubles.
Play an uninhibited harmony,
blow a sweeter tune,
one of gaiety,
one of lightheartedness,
one of gentle tenderness!

For fellow word-musicians,
this composition
is much too short,
to play out of tune
most of the time,
as well.

1 Life’s melody plucketh on broken strings,
2 When thou visage pulsates songs of passion;
3 Resonating frail music thy tongue springs,
4 Thee’s faltered core of fettered intentions.

5 Through rain I burneth, in thou radiance chill,
6 Thy mind defeats what thy heart embattles;
7 If pain lingers sweet, I benumb to feel,
8 And feed ceaseless bane and boon entangles.

9 Lest thee feeling withers, I recompense,
10 The gaiety of life in thy love’s commend;
11 To abhor the horror, erase the tense,
12 And finally embark to last the end.

13 Though Uterpe’s shut, Cupid’s arrow broke,
14 Our hearts shall sing rhythm, love will uncloak.

[Enter Marco, a young Milanese courtier.]
It is he, is it not, whose honeyed barbs drip with sweet condescension, and whose kisses taint fair Bianca’s lips with similar speech? Behold, how he frames her vision to reflect his own and directs her preferences accordingly.

Fie, I have been April’s fool in believing Antonio my ally. His encouragement was as sweetmeats to a greedy child; but I have chipped a tooth on that candy-coated morsel and found its centre to be flavoured with deceit.

My cousin Bianca, whose name speaks directly to her nature, whose light once made shadows dance for joy; how extinguished she appears now. For as Antonio sparkles and splutters at her side, her brilliance flickers and fades.

Lo, how he has seeded his untruths within her honest heart. His lies smuggled like contraband, his blandishments the articles of his trade. God’s wounds! Such a purveyor of frippery and falsehood I have never met the equal of.

It is high time to confront this sneak thief in his lurking-hole and to uncloak his creeping connivance. I shall bottle my rival’s words and choose carefully the occasion for their uncorking; then pour for the crowd a rich liquor of ripe requital.

This dimension of living is endlessly shrouded in mystery.
We are the midwives to our own platform of living and we have the authority to liquidate it and start upon a new tier at any moment.
I know but only what my eyes have unrobed  to show me.
All around us isolated winsome lives of their own fabric and hemming are kerneled into the crust of our worlds existence.
We are so distinctly separate yet intrinsically connected.
We tend to weave our lives in a way to circumvent the albatross that is free-floating and searching for a host.
It is so simple to sector yourself away from the things that pose fluster to your character.  
But we infallibly need each other, we must uncloak ourselves from the throttling labels.
Once you make peace with the construction of this world you are unfettered and free.
All of these sumptuous luminescent minds quarantined away serve no good.  Live your life with decorum and ease and let this light scintillate to invigorate others. This revolution is not rooted in vociferous speeches and affronts, but by merely emitting your unadulterated authentic self. Excavate yourself of the toxic of society and you will become the voltaic entity.
Make haimish comfort with the idea of uncertainty and live life simplistically.

She sat behind an impenetrable wall
As her castle, in pieces continued to fall.
She watched behind impenetrable glass,
That which was dear was stolen too fast.
Her days fade away, wasting away,
Agony growing with each passing day
Beautiful chaos that burned from his soul
That washed away every goblin and goul
in her nightmarish tower, now haunted once more,
that pleads for the song and the dance from before
In what seemed like a dream in such time of old,
Too lively to forget, and not long ago.
Siuil a ruinh, siuil a ruinh,
but don't forget your princess too soon.
Flee from the wounds I can no longer heal,
but there are pieces of me you are welcome to steal.
I still look to the day where the trees change again,
And once more the flame shall be burning again
If after this midnight we see the sun rise,
I'll uncloak my heart and take off this guise.
But for now I will mourn for the world I have lost.
I kept my sanity? Now this is the cost..
...or did I...?

Breathe my name with the breeze that rustles
Through the leaves and part your velvet-touched
Lips, that they may take my own rough ones
To a place as near bliss insomuch

That I can smell the melting morning dew
On your frosted hazel eyes through
Your lips. Let me uncloak you with
Trembling hands, and bid adieu

To whatever sadness resided in our hearts,
Through your ***** and its plaintive song,
So supple and melodious, falling
Only on ears to which it belongs.

I've lost myself in you beyond recovery;
Call on me and you will find me true,
If God wills, as the answer to
This most exquisite question - you.

FEELING INNER ENERGY

Often what we need is all around ,falling light,simple sound,lost until we actually look

Splash of rain momentarily a pain is the life's blood for most all living

Strolling into the wind are we  flustered  as it makes us bend or thankful for the coolness as we walk

Life is dealt in spades ,take pleasure with each treasure,tokens accepted then gladly given


Practice makes perfect is our daily plan,what will work,made in haste or taken from a book

When will we see to set our own stage ,break free from a cage,watch our narrow path widen

Accepting but still hesitant ,await what could be bright or will it bring us down,something hidden, wanting to revoke


Strength from within harnessed,finding new drive,  watching it build ,maybe something new on the horizon

Reflections in hindsight build inner muscle,Lessons earned when willing to uncloak

Who pays the penance, where will we retrieve the vigor when left lacking  will we see the vision

Finding more room in our soul becomes an unforeseen role ,adjusting each day
like an artist from a simple sketch to that final masterstroke. R.C.