Divorce, Single Parenting, Dating, Sex, & Self-Recovery

Posts tagged “poem

drinking winds (a poem)

i drink winds
like a fabled monster
swallowing the ocean
i become bloated with ideas
dreams
songs
letters that beg
to be turned into a poem
i travel to find new breezes
i ask companions to join me
in the ecstasy
blowing
along
inhaling every second
trigger point
fingertip
tongue
laugh
waves arriving
waves retreating
and the moon
her tides
and mysteries
and blessing
just breathe

12-24-21


i am a room full of chairs (a poem)

in this place

in this place

and in this place
there are many comfy spots
for reading
kissing
writing

but no place for
cats
bad attitudes
enemies

i have graduated
to independence
from negativity
shame
anger
longing
unrest

out here we is stoned
immaculate
breathing with ease
holding nothing
embracing everything
even the hard stuff
loss
weight
as a gift

letting go of her
was the easiest thing

11-09-21


too fast for me (a poem)

too fast for me - a poem

too fast for me - a poem

a woman once said
you’re too fast for me
as she sped on by
to the friend zone
she felt we were not a match
i agreed

11/04/21


slipping into something more comfortable (a poem)

flowers by the bed

flowers by the bed

i am still uncertain of my steps
one move forward
one blistering explosion of distress
a kiss with intention
may lead to a lifetime of promise
adventure
holding the firm confident hand of my lover
or
something completely different
how do we know
how does “i love you” come into frame
when is it okay to hope for future plans
when does “staying in the present moment”
become an avoidance
an escape from the heady work
of declaring your love BIG
deleting all the apps and passwords
leading to the options and rabbit holes
of other potential partners

we are here now
there is nothing more than your breath
on my neck
your timid words of assurance
and the ask
the pressure
the holding of space
for

LOVE

to enter
in glory and flaming red sparks
to enlighten or ignite
there is no in-between
there is only ON
or BURNED UP

i want you
i pray that it will work out
as I press into your thigh
and ask for permission
to believe
in your smile
in the promise of your kiss
in all the things we both claim to want
if the seeking is over
what will we do next
try not to fk it up
pause at the edge of the unknown

or is it time to jump
in

this time
forever

11-1-21


thin white line (a poem)

girls of summer

a razor-thin white line
of my accelerated life
this night provides data
but no answer is clear
no winner
no smashed siren
so lovely and reposed among the mossy rocks
i swim to cool my jets
and sleep with the fan on
swirling dreams each night
oh loneliness
what is thy sting?
this emptiness
becomes a meditation
a bowl of valentine hearts
given freely
no goals or immediate gratification
the slow thrust
tests all of my senses
keeping my words
soft
my voice
low and smooth
in a sacred prayer
of non-attachment
i let you go
each minute
of each day
and reach for your hand
on inhale
blow you a kiss goodbye
on exhale
the night is long
and kisses are distant
and this is my perfect
hour
here
aching for my lover lost at sea

10-22-21


limitless (a poem)

an opening is becoming
moments together
that bring limitless joy
both thrilling and comforting
and a breath in each other’s arms
is a lifetime of what has been missing
all this time
all these days and nights
of seeking and resetting expectations
become stillness
a point in time
with you
is

10-16-21


mvd2.0

off-hearttree

[from strange horizons poems]

something about your heart doesn’t make sense
a desire beyond all desires
a part of your soul you don’t understand
but are drawn to
the thrill, the chase, the capture,
the loss, the love, the sadness
it’s all in there at the beginning
and if you spot the one you’re looking for
no amount of distress or baggage
will keep you from
giving it your best shot
communicating freely
loving wildly
being reckless
bold

don’t hold back when the winds of love arrive
the storm approaches and you can lean in
or run with the dust and rain

ours is the way of brave things
kisses like arrows of fate and joy and excess
piercing the veil
of loneliness
hope
and
desire

the poetry of desire has created the maelstrom
a belief in myself
in my power to call in what the universe demands
of lovers
and answering the call
who am i to hesitate
when the time opens up and says forever
i am good to go
perhaps for a year
perhaps for a lifetime
i have only lived this far
i do not know
but i feel

you have awakened the life in me
of potential and possibilities
lying together
side by side
strokes and cuddles
smiles
and groans
as we seek the hand
push back against the night
with laughter
longing
and
full
fill
ment
of
the
we

2-5-16


her surrounding love

illig-framed-2016

[from strange horizons poems]

just above her wrist
there’s a sweetness
that only i know
a place behind her thigh
that i hold on to
and the left neck nibble
drives her to laughter
no matter what mood
might be passing through
i cannot imagine
a more perfect union
flawless in our imperfection
fitting in our wants
reverent in our needs
she keeps me in her pocket
when she leaves
she keeps me wrapped up inside
warm

2-1-16

image: framed, by Ed Illig ©2106, used by permission


the art of holding hands

[from the collection nyc m]

how our fingers entwine says a lot about the state of our connection
someone who doesn’t hold hands well… not an option
if you know your love language is touch
the hands will be a bit tell for you
is there a mutual reaching out
does she touch back or pull away slightly
is there a grabbiness or playful flexibility in her
it tells a lot more about her than you know
and when you find the match
another empathic soul stretching for god
and the love found between two people
as a prayer and song of thanksgiving
the hands will constantly be seeking a join
a comfort and calm in the casual wrap
the playful hand within a hand
the single finger grip
or entwined one by one
it’s almost a roadmap for love-making
this holding of hands
between two people
who cannot physically get any closer
yet desire
some entry point, some warm wire of communication
that only a hand-in-hand can provide
plenty of love transfers over the air, the eyes, the sounds and words
but the touch of a warm hand, cold hand, dry or moist hand
gives entry
feedback
clarity
to the connection
and expression of another’s
sensual desire

6-25-15

off-lovewatches


afternoon fires

OFF-water[from strange horizons poems]

there’s everything to love about a woman
and also plenty to fear
but let’s not get derailed
this is a love poem
where i try and find the word(s)
to describe the perfect
place
where i rest my head
on her chest
and breathe in
all that is woman
all that i can swallow
in gulps and gasps
but wait… that’s not it exactly
see… i’m taking a break
regrouping
reconfiguring myself
and still…
she walks in
sits at the counter of the coffee shop
and is magnificent
and
everything
even more arousing
than the potent brews being dispensed
that’s what i’m longing, pining, whining…
that’s what i’d like in my life again
just not now
some how neither of us are ready

and i’ve switched to water this afternoon
anyway

11-5-14


of course i think about you

[from a second wave – poetry]

i want you to danceheadoverheals-off
to feel
express
every
single
l. e. t. t. e. r.
words to sounds to body

6-16-13

image: head over heels, courtney carmody, creative commons usage


a late start

[from a second wave – poetry]

white convertible porschetennis-latestart
lululemon tennis gear
a pony tail and
an 11 am court time
on a working day

of course there’s a huge rock
and a beautiful smile
and an elaborate
cup of coffee

i could get used to this
if i were
young
beautiful
female
and well-married

10-9-14


eager for the game

tennis-non-john

[from a second wave – poetry]

i fell in love today 101 times
she’s not amazing or anything
but she’s playing tennis
and i’ve discovered that I love her
every time i return to the back of the line
and i look at her smile
and lulu-fit skirts

something occurs to me
as i’m falling in love
for the 73rd time
she’s just a woman
playing tennis

sure she’s young
she’s pretty and fit
and athletic
but it’s her inside out forehand that gets me

i’ve become aware
on the 84th time i fall in love
that it must be more about me
the smell of the fall air
and the thwack of the balls
that has me
head over heels

on the 98th time
i fall in love
class is almost over
and i’m aching to understand
if there’s something more to it
or if she could also be participating

i ask her a question
she is wonderful
happy, distracted, and…
just a young woman
playing tennis
on a fall afternoon

i am still in love
and will return on friday
to see if she’s as eager
for the game
as i am

10-8-14


dark woundings of my own

OFF-dark-mermaid

[from a second wave – poetry]

the precision in a glass of wine
loosening the tongue just enough
to truthfully expose the inner heart
the pumping seething heart
rich red with healthy passion
or black blue with choked off pain
i cannot stand in your way
nor cushion your deep slide this time
my target is moving now
released by your trigger finger
and slippery anger-joke-anger
mad, just kidding, is still mad
and opening the door
date-night door, as well
with “i’m mad” is a sure sign
as sure as the slight slur
almost imperceptible, almost passable
but the message uncoiled and venomous
was unfiltered this time, by feints and jests
and the bile poured on the floor between us
what could’ve caused the flood
releasing pent-up frustrations and …
what
a deathly release from being loved
a striking to keep from feeling
a fear greater than being loved
a fear of loving and losing again

i can’t survive this poison
i’ve seen too clearly the trajectory of loss
disappointment and un. met. expectations.
i survived this song long ago
so long, i no longer want to do the dance
around the venomous tongue
the wounded and striking viper
i won’t go back to charming
starring with glassy eyes, praying
playing the flute
hoping for a long and happy life
i failed my snake charming class
and burned the books
branded with my F
but released from that prison
of dangerous shadows and unknown traps
i am released and recovering
from dark woundings of my own
i won’t take on more
hurt
no matter
what the
love
provided

now

or

then

8-1-2014

image: models dive 25 meters, bejamin von wong, creative commons usage


goddess in a little black dress

OFF-goddess

[from a second wave – poetry]

home is what remains after our youth has passed
your beauty shines beyond what i can see
i have hungered for your voice, your lips, your smell
as you wrap words around my mind
hands around my hands
hunger into my flames into a blaze

if i wanted a model i would need a lot more money
and after it’s all been stripped away
a pretty face is also a burden
it’s not what i’m after, this youthful body
but the lust is primal, real, raw, and awakened by you
this is what is important
energy to build on, hopes to fan the flames
a deep black  nothingness that i fall into
without fear or clutching
let’s release the drug
that brings
everything
in
to
this

one

moment

 

it’s not what you look like, exactly
it’s what you feel like
how you playfully tear back the boundaries
aware of your power and unafraid
to sear us raw, blasted, exhausted, still

i know not what i ask for
it is the stuff of dreams
and magazine covers in checkout lines
and still
any breast will do, any heart beneath that is ready to open
any now

could be the time
you appear

6-13-14

image: moran atías, creative commons usage


arriving at now

[from a second wave – poetry]

we don’t have to get it right
or know what we pretend to know
ease and comfort
and staying present
is the joy of your skin
the tilt of your laugh
the smile you bring
as i imagine
how you feel
to me
now
that’s the important bit
now

6-16-14

Screen Shot 2014-06-18 at 8.41.44 AM

image: jackie martinez, mark j sebastian, creative commons usage


shimmer

sera song shimmer

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

it’s not just everything about her
i know so little
it’s not the wisp of hair
the light
the breast and belly
it’s not all those things
it might be what she is looking at
that i cannot see
it might be the hope
she is looking for someone
i know it is a photograph
i know she is not real
in this moment of light
and promise
and poem
i know
and i wander
into the folds
and shimmer

11-4-12

image: sera song courtesy of jag photo


receding moon

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

she is the receding moon in a clear blue sky
influences like tides
there is light with no heat
and the whole world is opened up
with potential and promise
beauty in hope and romantic reach
waves out from my heart
heavenward and hopeful

10-24-13

blue sky moon

 

image: blue sky moon used under creative commons usage


against beauty

mermaid series - jesse sublett - aug 2009

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

the nuance is lost
when i hunger
with such intensity
i wear myself out
i cannot imagine
her
my heart bursting
wouldn’t
run

anytime there is a glimmer
i jump with both feet
as into a fresh rain puddle
without care or map
i am reckless
and abandoned
i thrash slightly
with romantic epiphanies

there she is
beauty personified
wings folded
smile alight
there she is
hovering
dipping
smelling of salt

an easy death will not come
not little deaths
but large ones
i do not haunt or hunt
i craft and scheme
and write missives
hoping she will
receive

here she is
listening
within reach
still fluttering
amazed
both of us
at the closeness
and heat
and risk
of flame

i have the patience of a surgeon
and the passion of a teenage boy
i do not fumble
but ready my arrow
and give voice to flying instructions
asking for her assistance
a little lift
is required
but we pause

the is nothing simple about falling
nothing casual
about what I am craving
i fall well
i love even more intentionally
at least…
at least i imagine i will

given the chance, the shot, the siren
i will gladly crash into her
burning all maps
forgiving all plans and transgressions
as we explode
but there is no exploding
today i am only dreaming
today i am doing
my romantic poet

i can tuck this craving under a stone
and go on about my business
today has many turns left
while rubbing up against beauty
ever familiar
ever distant
inspiring yet again
without tangible evidence
that i am getting any closer
to her

10-18-13

image used by permission: mermaid series by jesse sublett


sera sera sera

devastating beauty - sera - a poem

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

devastating beauty
of dark and quixotic myth
an endless stream of black night, all stars
deep scent and dampness
any whispers or words
are lost in the soundless awe
words no match for the image
the eye
the lip
a soft and sharp neck
uncovered yet colorless
unmasked
she penetrates my
my
she takes my
my
she is
i’ve lost all
she
cannot imagine
who i think she might be
she is a distant shimmer of light
a dark vortex of mysterious imagination
she is mine
and nothing
and beautiful
and elsewhere
she calls forth a greatness
a striving and chivalrous heart
she
is
not
what she appears to be
beauty caught for a second
in a moment of magic
some distant fires
must warm her gaze
and bring redness and smiles
imagining her laugh
but she is not
she cannot be
she mustn’t ever
this isn’t about her
of course
it is about her hair
her magic
and the fear it conjures
if one so beautiful
exists
by digital frame
is it
conceivable that her inner light
could also radiate with
this
beauty

is the pain from a knowing or unknowing
the tearing of lost hopes
memories and victories
of battles and mountains of youth

there is a chasm between, below, and ahead
i am not seeking
but praying
to a god i don’t pretend to understand
a god who delights in this raw
unfiltered potency
and perhaps in my faint song
of praise

i am praying
and searching for letters
to weave a tapestry or net
of such strength and brilliance
but i pause now
knowing the light is an illusion
the trick
my own

she
my she
is nothing like her

what i have lost
is not returning
what i have yet to discover
still a siren’s song of sorts
still a calling to the rocks
to the old gods
to sacrifices
and
shields of gold
fires
blood
heroes and honor and
and this
image calls an entire fleet
in my heart
this older, slower heart
still red with desire
simmering with incantations
aspirations
to

love

love fully

love unlimited by age or time or reality

love

just

love

god
she is god
i am an acolyte
and i sing

10-16-13

image from: The Tale of Sera Leigh


eyes to the bottom of the pool

a poem of missing someone before we even met

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

i’m not waiting for her to make the first move
kiss first
ask for the 2nd date
but I am anticipating that she will provide
some sign
an indication
that will fuel or foul my flames
and she did
and it was a no
and now I can move on
i may never know what why or how
and she will most likely not offer
so we drift
back to our lanes
eyes to the bottom of the pool
and swim on

10-13-13

image: hockney inspired photo


fall arriving

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

and the weather changed and changed everything
i smile, imagining your smile
as the leaves swished down and past
rain smell and damp earth hunger
and memories, hopes, and dreams
of you

and
you called

9-21-13

fall arriving


peacefully anticipating someone

wing tattoos

[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]

we don’t have much time
and all the time in the world lies before us
it is about what we choose
who we are to become
and what cast of characters we’d like to
write into the next scene

i sit here
type type typing
and you there
type type typing
working for a living
and a moment
and the space
in
time

if we choose something else
we have decided
if ‘maybe’ is the constant answer
no is the result

i am not saying this
i am typing this
i am afraid
to say

i want you
to crave you
to have and to
it might be easy
but only time will tell
this time
that tics and clicks away
beneath our fingers
across the backs of our wings

i have known flight
and i can remember what that feels like
the ground is no place for dreamers
and lovers

perhaps the lover in you is still obscured
or perhaps it is me

any moment
is every moment
and without you
they are alone
moments

okay
but alone

i am ready to be not-alone

i imagine smelling your neck
and the coarseness of your toes after a long walk
the dampness

this rain comes
blows and goes
this breath returns again and again
wanting
desiring

i am singing as loud as i know how
but i am still learning
i am working on it

you

you must work on yourself
and the lover you may become
if you want to

i can ask

i can sing, and swoop, and dip
i fly nearby
i flutter

i type type type
you type type type
but the words are not for each other

the words
the wings
the wind beneath my heart
warm
fierce
peacefully anticipating
someone

arriving here again
at patience

7-26-13


an easy wish

from my point of view

[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]

if i had a way to reach out and stroke your back i would
just a touch to let you know i am here
i am thinking about you
and hope that you are smiling
it is an easy wish
there are so many strands between us
communication devices and channels
but this is different
i want you to feel me
i want you to notice my absence
and in that moment
i want you to remember how often i touch
not with a question or a request
just a hello
a reassurance
a nudge towards a happy direction
this is what i am imagining right now
to you
this touch

7-24-13