"unrobed" poems
We stand unrobed where daylight splits the air,
Her thighs a bramble, mine are smooth and spare.
The mirror's glare reveals what we both share:
One breast a plum, its twin a rounder pear.
Time’s cursive scrawls on skin we’ve learned to bare—
Her stretchmarks ripple, tides, my palms embrace.
No clues hide the faint silver in her hair—
My thumb traces the laugh-lines on her face.
Past phantoms fade—two clocks now beat as one.
Her skin, once chilled, now thaws beneath my sighs;
My stony silence ripens into sun;
Time-frozen hearts melt in each other's eyes.
Your mouth—a fig split ripe—now drinks my moan:
We fuse to one fierce sun, no dusk, no dawn.
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
I slept pretty well in bed last night.
But something startled me, made my heart beat very fast.
At first I couldn’t figure out what was happening.
Then I realized I was dreaming of you.
Is it at all possible, that you were dreaming me?
Is it possible that you pulled me telepathically into your bed?
I was eased into your comfortable embrace;
laying underneath you in total darkness,
we were both unrobed steeped in passion.
We didn’t look into each other’s eyes,
because the darkness held all control.
Both of us knew that the time had come,
for us to close that mysterious gap.
You caressed my face and kissed my neck,
you kissed my lips and magic happened.
Our bodies were electrified, our souls caught fire,
and your kiss sent chills all over my body.
My heart was beating faster and faster,
my body was yours and nothing else mattered.
I guess I couldn’t take the energy that surged,
from your body Into my soul.
When you kissed me again, I came to my senses.
My body went into some sort of shock,
the moment felt real, but I knew it was not.
So I told myself to wake the **** up!
When I opened my eyes, I was back in my bed,
covered in sweat, and eyes wide open.
Heart still beating incredibly fast,
while my spirit slumbered in widespread shame.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 2:52 PM UTC
Whispering her smile
Looking beatific,
Looking arousingly terrific,
Uninvited but invitingly,
Place my pointer finger
Upon her breast, ******* already attentive,
***** she preps to dance and to
Leave me
Bid her despedida,
For my adieu is tinged
With desperation internal raging,
For tantalizing, J'accuse,
Guilty as charged
My tango muse,
Off to dance in dives,
Where all the men are
Strangers, who paid in cash,
With creased and stained $20 bills,
To soil themselves, to dance with my woman,
Paid far in advance.
For consorting with the enemy,
I renounce her not, but guilty charged,
For mesmerizing, J'accuse,
Guilty as charged
She'll return, after three,
Undress before me,
Purportedly sleeping,
Pointedly, slowly, knowingly,
To insure I scent the sweat
That tango demands,
The ****** side effects,
The Argentines invented,
Accoutrement rituals,
Excuses to invent dance,
In order to pleasure intensity,
For teasing w/o mercy, J'accuse,
Guilty as charged
She chambers her body bullet,
Sliding in unrobed,
For a negligee would be
Negligent in her condition,
Laughing at my pretend closed eyes,
She whispers,:
I return here, to you
For one reason alone
Despite soul and body, exhilarated,
While gone, you have been composing
About me without permission,
Of this, of thee,
J'accuse!
I know you have penned
Poem,
Which long after the dance thrill has chilled,
Will belong to me forever,
I will kiss you now so I may taste the
Words that are mine, until next week,
When I will be guilty again
Of charging your imagination
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
tired of my drooping Hanes,
my slept-in choice for greeting
a new morning tad overexposed,
my weekend breakfast table
body's accoutrement,
"coverup" she deemed accurately
as in-suffice,
my nighttime slept-in choice for
welcoming the new morning
as a single continuum,
exposing my true colors,
thus declaring biblically,
"Let there be night, let there be day,"
in a manner of speak
she-woman wryly declares
over her slim sizing
yogurt Greek and half of a laugh
of a banana downsized,
"You need some loungewear"
pondering this ponderosa-sized ponderosity,
grasping its monstrosity insulting me,
coffee pouring, Eye, a
first responder
contemplate irresponsibly,
thinking to reply with bravado,
that on said day,
when Eye accrete
such a class of clothing
so nomenclatured as
"loungewear"
upon my person,
or in my ward-so-unrobed found,
unasked for,
Eye will require transgendering
but my tongue bites me,
so instead
draw down on my John Donne,
on the subject of
food, good taste
and being unclothed,
and instead
He-poet
bequeath the she-woman
this riposte...
*"Full nakedness!
All joys are due to thee;
as souls unbodied,
bodies unclothed must be
to taste whole joys.*
wisely retreating than be
defeating,
not wanting
a world war conflicting,
with coffee mugged, Eye return/hide,
under the bed's blanketing comforter,
thinking of the taste of whole joys
of her body unclothed,
when later, she creeps in next to me,
to practice the serious art of
lounging...
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
Allegiance stood aside,
As did red and black suspicion.
John opened the door with his voice,
While Cornelius stood unrobed, his command nullified,
He didn't stop them,
Polearms bought without coin,
Stolen from thieves plundering life itself,
Uncrossed and moved aside for seven reasons.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
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.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
You talk lots about Love
But what does it look like?
As pretty as you,
Or as kind?
***
Like the painting in the mirror
In your favorite nightclub
Like the unrobed reflection
In your morning bathtub
Raw, unreservedly charming
Like the towel, clung to your waist
That while you walked to the bed, sliding
Like the heavenly lips of yours
That parted when pleased, singing
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 12:30 PM UTC
The words better naked,
the song better clothed
My feelings stripped bare,
my lyrics exposed
I flash and I streak,
the melody warms
Now fully unrobed,
—my song to adorn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC