In the dark, I came alive
I found my way
~into the light
Camouflage in lace, my skin glisten,
Towards the wind, I listen!
Skin of envy and gold,
My limbs suddenly unfold,
Gracefully I follow the air,
I found myself without a care,
Every moment, every feeling felt erotically insane,
Seductively, the night whispers my name,
A freedom flight
~into the night.
My breast, not of a little girl
Beyond the hazels, into another world
My life until this point had been a riddle
My fingers slither, a play without a fiddle
Circles with motion,
Vibrations and self-soothing lotion,
I touch my self gently,
Thinking of you relentlessly,
The night echoes a whimpering sound,
I want to see, and embrace the secrets inside me,
I squeeze the damp enigma charcoal sheets-
Moaning and moaning, repeatedly.
Tucking my silk pillows, groping my knees,
I rub my lids slowly, satisfactorily complete,
Falling back into the realm of counting sheep.
Featuring: Leonora Galinta
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Go Of Them!
With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
my hands colored my childhood!
Like an architect,
my hands drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they?
They continue to sew and show the way
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
Painting hurtful images on dry wall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see.
With no words to say
I caress the sky line like a mime
My hands ride the wind,
My hands paint a world,
each of their own.
Young and pretty finger prints
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!
Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting I treasure forever in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth
Now your all grown up... :-(
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old you will hold my hands and remember the gold.
My hands paint many designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands felt images I can't describe
Made up moments of handicap when lost
My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.
they've been told
held so many times
always meeting, greeting,
waving hello's and goodbyes... ((you see my hands, they smile too))
Pinching my way through reality.
Reaching holding on to dreams.
Snapping fingers, we are a team.
My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
my hands touch and make a difference
my hands learned a lot
my hands prayed
and knew their duty.
My hands employed by me.
When they are bored,
they tap and tap and draw THAT' annoying noise.
My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can never reveal
they hold the past, present, and future in every line.
I extend my hands,
without flipping the bird
Thank you Hands!
I am enjoying the sign language show.
In my next life, or so
I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel...................
I can't believe with all the time I have on my hands.
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.
"Mine all Mine!"
A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea
A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."
The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind
I memorized till they became all mine
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monologue look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio,
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips,
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof
My dearest Poet,
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind,
Indulged when you speak and point out verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun
-A poet in heat-
Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails
This part of you
"A CAN'T BE REMOVED" tattoo
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"
You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet: "Ink Never Lies."
Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sung under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propagandas
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth
The poet is the language,the mystery in monalisa's smile
The brush of Caravaggio,and palette of Vangogh
He is the sonnet of Mozart and symphony of Bach
The tragedy of Shakespeare,and Pablo's saddest verse
He is the Danube in waltz and swan lake in ballet
The renaissance of fervent passion,and remnants of last breaths
He is the dilemma between immoral,spiritual and sane
He is the shadow of deed,the ombra of sin
The fantasy,desire,illusion,and the inward sigh birthed from night's aurora
He is an outward cry setting in the horizon,in an ocean of tidal waves
The poet is the dreamer of a non-existent affair
He is the hope,the doubt,the fable,the fairytale,of a mortal reality
He is the clown,the living metaphor,the voice
escaping ,returning to a hypocratic,demanding world.
He is the deceiver of time,a newly wed spouse so loyal to his pen
He is the thought which bleeds its petals through fragnant words
The poet is an omnipotent servant,with a will to ask and crave to learn
He is a philosopher whose always an amateur in the pursuit of wisdom.
He is an eternal slave to his muse,addicted to the beverage of inspiration
He knows no lapses in all that is scandolous,royal,or sacred
He is the artist,musician,actor,and clairvoyant of undestined paths
He is the clay's cheap mold carved in the refined sculpture of next century
The poet is an unfinished book,each chapter scribbled in yesterday
An empty page,still to be filled today,and the worn out bookmark of tomorrow
A world of change
Round and round
My heart of envy and gold,
The birth of a new stone
Hazel room, vibrant lilac sky,
Deep orange haze in a warm place
Arms of sapphire and cornflower blue
Fuchsia beauty drip
All colors drift
The day we met
Visions of dark slate-gray
Lighting the new age gem
Turning and creating different stars
Magic mint skies
White antique petals follow the wind
Opal dreams, clouds embedded with impurity
My heartbeat produces flashing colors
The palest amethyst bluebonnet forever fields
Flawless teal drop streams
Diamond shaped love
Ruby red promises to keep
Falling into the deep
Every color spins new
The day I fell in love with you
Peridot lime green shade
A love as old and gray
Olive brownish sun
Our future clear as aquamarine
Everyday you turn fresh new seasons in me
Changing the sequence in my colors and event
Reflected by the mirrors of you
*The feline Texan way*
A fresh coat of paint,” on my nails
Red shade of lips," on my smile
Solid oak charms,” on my wrist
Country music,” in my heart
Flattering eyes,” a rustic, shell.
Join me, won’t you?
In this "Country Girls Tale"
Every day I approach the morning dawn,
I follow the landscape towards the new Texas sun.
Surround by yellow roses and cactus galore.
I brand my name everywhere I go,
I allow you near the limits of my Wild West soul.
I keep it above the snake level everywhere I roll.
Got my head up like a cowgirl,
I slick my hands down my black leather chaps.
I tilt my bullhide hat leaving behind the sweetest Texas Trail.
I rode through many Texas midnight storm.
It took more than raindrops to knock me from my- “2-Steppin’ world.”
A windy ride, bruises under the hide taking it in like- “A Real Cowgirl!”
I got a tight grip on my saddle, holding on to a brighter morrow.
Enjoying the voices and the sound.
Tex-Mex lingo, round and round.
Ropers and Wranglers, is how I dress.
I got it all covered, except for the top of my chest.
Living’ it up^, down here in the south.
Erin’ the lungs, shooting up the fun
Long necks’ and kissing under a rodeo’ moon.
Honky-Tonkers’, tattooing the mocking bird.
You will find me sitting on the Country ground,
Peacefully staring into the eyes of the "Alamo Stars."
Flowing with the art found in the flag I hold.
I am The Wild!
I am The West!
“— A little crazy, but civilized!”
Enjoying the morning breeze,
Where the dew sits on the tip of Mother Nature’s tongue.
There and only there you will find me,
Under the brightest Texas Star.
* ~Dark Silver Haze~ *
(side#1) (side #2)
come taste life ---------- Heart-warming wine
old and stale, ---------- Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished, --------- Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
the lowest feeling ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky ---------- How much is lost
hollow memories ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade --------- To sweet silver blue
weak limbs, overpower ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights -------- None left to deny
everything ends -------- Insight in view
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
torn from reality -------- Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow -------- Beauty from pain
bitter and dull, --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade -------- To sweet silver blue
**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**
~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~
I want to feel you
like a petal feels the wind
I want to touch you
like dewdrops touch my skin
I want to hold you
like moon shadows hold a star
I want to tickle you
like the flutter of a butterfly
tickles my heart, from fields afar
I want to lay my head upon your lap
like a child lays his head upon the lap
of a sterile mother in her fertile dream
I want to miss you
like an immigrant misses his homeland
the land which deceived his opportunities
yet embraced his first footstep
and held his last tear in a stream
I want to think of you ,ardently
I want to seek for you,,secretly
In the same way those paramour's enchanting eyes
seek and wander for his flamboyant mistress
I want to live,dying to have you
like a hero dies in battle
thinking of his daughter's last smile
and family pictures.
I want to find you
in the same way my faith finds God
Without seeing,without knowing
with all doubts,questions and mysteries
With all that I am,and ever will be
I want to love you .
Color me white, or color me black. Color
me brown, or color me red. Color me
yellow, but color me to be just me.
Color me anyway you want. You are the
artist, you know what to do, just capture
my beauty and let it show through.
My beauty is not on the outside for everyone
to see. My beauty comes from within and
few people have seen.
Color me with the colors that you so much
love to use and when people see this painting,
they will see themselves in me.
The people will ask you - why did you put so
many colors on me and you will tell them - because
the beauty I did see.
The painting is now finished, the artist has done
his job. A painting of many colors, that he is very
The colors bring beauty to the painting on the
wall, but if we were all colored blind - we wouldn't
see any colors at all...
Copyright: written by
Lucilla M. Carrillo
I wrote this poem because through out life
I have seen a lot of injustice done, because
of who we are , or where we came from. We
did not choose to be who we are, or where
we came from. God chose that for us. I don't
think God made a mistake when He made us.
He had His reasons. We are who we are, that
can never be changed. We live in this world.
We are God's Race...