Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Passion Poems

Below are the all-time best Passion poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of passion poems written by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Passion Poems

Search for Passion poems, articles about Passion poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Passion poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Passion Poems
Read Passion Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Passion Poem | |

Midnight Secret

*Midnight Secrets*   

In the dark, I came alive 
~tonight
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,
Looking around, 
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. 
~Tonight 

by;)

Details | Passion Poem | |

Love Poem - 29

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with scars, wrinkles,
redundancies and repetition,
items that people throw into the wind,
kick around and step upon.

I fall in love with my enemies,
one of life's hardest lessons to learn.
I find haters to be marvelous motivators.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while reinforcing the love I have already found.

The old man who sits in a rain-filled gutter,
seemingly oblivious to the water sluicing down the hill,
splashing against his clothes -
fists raised up to the heavens in fury
as he talks to an invisible audience
about how Apollo stole his dearly beloved wife....

....I fell in love with him too.

I fall in love with things that some people deem as insignificant,
ugly, morose, dirty and immoral.
The more I fall in love, the more I love each passing moment,
including the pain, torture and misery that may appear along the way.

If I write down treasonously treacherous words,
the reader could assume such words to be rooted in rage
or a cynical outlook. But the words are actually born out of love -
I love every single word in existence.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while still maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with the woman 
who is too shy to have a proper conversation with anyone,
because she believes herself to be very ugly,
when in fact, she is an exquisitely gorgeous woman.

I fall in love with broken daffodils, bent daisies,
a shattered seashell, the sweet stench of rotting seaweed on the shore,
the way her hair smells baking in the sun.
I fall in love with black and white photographs,
hypnotized by the essence the dead have left behind.
I fall in love with marbles, the feathers of mourning doves,
and with the stray cat who after watching the moving truck drive away,
slunk around the alley in search of scraps -
over the years, she has proven to be
a most respectful and loyal animal.
I fall in love with saints, villains, rusted watering cans,
the way sunlight bends into prisms when it shines
through the cracked antique windowpane
which I simply cannot find the presence to replace.


And as for the people who think that my love is a whole
different spectrum of emotions,
or how it is impossible for someone like myself
to fall in love with something new, every, single day....

....well, I love them too.





April 6th, 2012

Details | Passion Poem | |

LIQUID HEAVEN

Liquid Heaven

A feast for my womanly inner beast!       
I tease, I please, you have me on my knees
I wring my hands, you oint my head
With your fingers locked in my hair of red
You, I call Master! 
You have me in a position, as if I was begging for forgiven
My words are bashing with one stuttering sound
Moaning & Moaning, 
As you make my head swirl like a merry-go-round
Craving for you to unleash your liquid heaven sound

My body speaks and mumbles a language only meant for you
A touch of intimacy, that lathers up like liquid glue
Sticky but, yet so compelling
My tongue slips silent beloved words of joy into the air
You play the master of this dark solid room
This dungeon has lighter, than one can consume
You engage me* to provoke you with everything I got
Yelling, please master don't ever stop!
At this moment I yearn for your excitement that whips out an appeal
To feel the closeness and arousing sensation of your presence
That melts me and chill me with a flow that does not kill
I'm your thinker
Your muse and poet
You are my composer creating liquid tunes
That expresses the hardness of your boldness

I confess to you my love
You are all I'm dreaming of
You drive your hands all over my body
Reaching every angle my steamy body lends
Encourage me to stimulate your mental needs
You are my master withholding a liquid element
In me you release fluids that hit like a silent tide
A desire that comes with a full force of the fire inside
I crave for the taste of your lips
Your hands on my hips
Your fingers with a tight sensual grip
I dedicate my heart, and my lust
To get lost within every push of your trust
Like a treasure deep underneath the sand
I'm addicted to the feelings you propose within your land
Your hazel eyes are my sunrise
You bring out the obsession,
And my sweet tooth temptation
Like the moon above a misty night
Seducing me in every way in a poetic write
YOU MY LOVE!!!
Your liquid heaven is like the beginning-
-Of my delicious delight!

                  by;p.d.

**A sweet Dedication To Nate**

Details | Passion Poem | |

Beyond Forever-cowritten w-Maurice Yvonne

The night sky awakens from a long days slumber 
peers with its eyes down upon us large in number. 
The moon is like an orchestra full with every instrument playing. 
A falling star sings "Candle In the Wind" on its descent swaying 
like a faintly whispered lullaby of Columba drawing me in. 
Our  lips lock in a singular motion, surrenders, skin on skin. 

Our love is stellar, the magnificence of a galaxy, a flood 
of blessed light pure, entangles us in each others blood. 
I find solace in your touch, but how it leaves me faint 
still, brave like Orion I engage you without restraint. 
Naked, raw in the aura of the midnight's luster 
we undulate to the rhythm of stars in a cluster. 

Marvel the milky way, its multitudes of constellations. 
Roll in the heavens with its infinitudes of sensations. 
The exhilaration of zero gravity our movements free 
we explore the vast regions of this cosmic black sea. 
Together we surf an evening of carnal pleasures  
in these moments discover all the worlds treasures.

Falling into the freedom, with stardust in our hair,
A feeling so intense, that no education could prepare.
With every stroke of the skies nightly portrait of perfection, 
Inspirational kisses, under the microscope, intricate inspection. 
This power of passion caressing ever second of our being,
In your eyes it is beyond forever that I am seeing.

Written in the stars, the midnight sky writes our history,
Embrace the power of perfection, we are covered in mystery.


11-24-2014
Maurice Yvonne
Casarah Nance

Details | Passion Poem | |

Plethora of Poetry

~STRIP TEASE~     Featuring:) SKAT

Silver Skimpy Ink, String, A POET DESTROYER's bling, bling
Think of me as a human ditty delicious decoration,
Something along the line of a sweet tooth temptation
Cherry tastes, between the slit of tender toast 
Fine jumble jam slams down the tongueless throat 
Dance like a diamond on The tight South Pacific Rim
I'll feed you with a slithering seductive sound
My hair soaking, -wet and wild, tonight I trim
A dulcet apple acrostic bottom, to squeeze the greed
Feathers, on top, poetic diction describing to please
At times, I'm in deep dire need of something sweet, and sour 
Endless epic words, and ode to the naked poetic world
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, the freaking awesome
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)

---

Symbol of the spiritual Sexy SKAT Slang
--Provocative-- A slippery succulent, scrumptious kiss 
Counterparts working the tension, another arrant appetite
I am the Illuminati illusion, laminating luscious illustrated letters  
Indulging in the, satire of one stilt spoken sunset
Like a child's spiking temperature, I often throw tantrums, 
Teasing attentions, by incorporating a pole, paper and pen, 
If someone is uncomfortable with facing the fact, 
When I reveal everything, without removing my high heels
Then you must not be worldly or women and man enough 
I love to spoil and slur my scenery, using my best assets
My strength and power parallel, any unique universe 
That's how confident the audience makes me feel
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, fantastic and fabulous
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Details | Passion Poem | |

Where Gladiators Fought

Part I

Where gladiators fought for life,
we meet to fight for love
The constellations in the Roman night sky,
celestial spectators, bathe the Colosseum
in the white blood of light
The night is throbbing with the heat of our battle,
our cries, more passionate than any that have gone before

Part II

A short while earlier
A well paid bribe found us in the remains of the Ludus Magnus,
the remains of the old Gladiator School in Rome
where lies buried
a hidden entrance to an underground tunnel 
You pull me with you into dark underground world of legend
By light of a flickering torch,
we travel into the entrails of the behemoth,
coming in time upon the holding rooms
My breath catches 
I hear the sounds of man and beast
carrying through the thin layers of time:
Slaves, criminals, debtors, all awaiting their fate…
Animals pawing, grunting, starved for food
Dying to kill to stave the gnawing pain
Waiting….
Waiting to be lifted up into the arena
Waiting to fight 
Waiting to live or die

Part III

We break into the hypogeum
The crispness of the night air stings us
The vastness of it all paralyzes all thought
Rome comes ALIVE
The resurrection of history enflames us,
and as we mount those final stairs up to the arena,
I feel your excitement blazing through me
Your grasp is almost painful in jubilee
“We are here…HERE!” Your voice is laced with the sacred.
Between those famed arches…XIX and XX
We stand 
You and I all and 50,000 ghost spectators
Here at the East Entrance
The Gate of Life Looms above us
True gladiators passed through these very gates 
Here the applause coursed through their veins
And thundered to the captives below…
Here I stand
Quivering with the knowledge of all this night means to me
That thunder reverberates through MY body
I can hardly breathe
Your eyes are looking up at tiered levels
while mine look ahead
There is the walkway connecting the east to west
At the far side is the Libitinarian, the Gate of Death,
through which dead gladiators were dragged,
their bodies dumped in the Spoliarium 
to be stripped of clothes and armor
Life and death
Here, they converged
Here, they fought
On this night
I know
I will strip myself of my clothing and armor
I will let down my defenses
and give in to your onslaught of passion
Here… I will die to all but your eyes

Part IV

I walk, quietly, with purpose
Here….in this place...
my virgin blood will be spilt
Halfway between life and death, I stop
I turn towards you
My voice reaches you on the night wind
“Come to me!”
I see you move towards me
My mighty gladiator
You who have fought my demons
You who have slain my nightmares
You who have held in check
A savage desire for possession
As you stand before me
I wonder if you know
Tonight is the night
You will plunder and ravage
to your heart's delight
your just reward

Part V

You find a place to keep the torch upright
You see the blanket I’ve spread on the ground
I answer the question in your eyes
With the curve of my lips
I steady my hands as they work to undress me
I feel my body burn in the warmth of your presence
Your eyes undress me faster than my hands can,
and yet... you are....immovable
You stand transfixed
You wait until my only covering
Is my flowing hair
"Make love to me
Here, now...be my gladiator
Come...claim your prize."
I reach out my hand to you
and in a moment
before my next intake of breath
you've come to life and crush me in your arms
Your mouth claims mine
like never before
seeking more
your tongue explores
demanding, commanding
it takes what it will
You pull me in to you 
Your hand in my hair,
my breath is raptured by your sheer strength
Your mouth travels along my neck
Hungry….like a famished animal finally set free to feast
You devour as you reach my cleavage 
I lean back to let you savor my breasts
For the first time
to taste 
You’re down on your knees
your tongue encircling my navel
going round and round and dipping inside
This prophetic dance of what is to come
washes over me
as you lower me to the ground
In a moment, I’m looking at the stars
The two brightest ones being your eyes
You are above me
You are everywhere
Kissing tasting touching feeling pleasing
Finding my voice, I pant...
“Don't...be gentle
not...now!"
I’m gasping with the effort
of all I need to say...
of the weight of feelings...
raging within me
"Don't...hold back anymore
Take me...
Take me...now."

Your hands reach for mine and pin them down
My breasts heave, my body rocks
as I feel you plunging into the moistness 
that your very presence always creates in me
But never...to this luxuriant degree
Pain mixes with pleasure again and again
As I hear your grunt and groan
Your ecstasy comes in manish moan
And I close my eyes to the Roman night sky

I sigh
I die
To the world
I am reborn in you
I hear your victory cry
And feel your jubilant release inside

Part VI

They fought for life
We fought for love
My fingers run through your hair
Your head is pillowed on my breast
My heart beat a reminder
Of what you have won
A gladiator’s reward...

LIFE
found
in the arms
of the woman
you
LOVE


For Justin Bordner’s Contest
Make Love to Me in that Ancient Place
November 16, 2014


Details | Passion Poem | |

This Gypsy Soul

This gypsy soul is on the road It leaves castles far behind It abandons ghostly mist which sabotages the caravan of life It passes along the mountainside by golden hay fields where daises bloom by stream of waters which sweeps a withered rose towards the decayed lumber flume This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Lochlomond against high winds,against the rain against aquatic monsters of pain This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastel fantasy The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun- kissed cheek My arms would cling around your once a muscular physique We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees I play on your guitar,my hundred melodies As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue and orange paper lanterns float high in cobalt blue We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly You'd be able to touch me before last embers die This gypsy soul is on the road in search to be set free Across bridges,on a journey your compass-my destiny.

Details | Passion Poem | |

....The Title ^Fight....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaning against the ropes, eyes swollen half closed

Its been a long fight....

Blood dripping from a dislocated jaw

Body beaten and bruised; taking a few more blows

Crowd screaming; colourful figures; cloudy sight?!

Knocked down a few times but, not counted out yet

Not yet; still standing to catch a second wind.... ~

My foe is fierce and relentless, the best in the world

This worlds, undisputed heavyweight champ

At least over most of Humanity; never lost a fight to the faithless!?

Been the prince of his ring for thousands of years....

Almost had them carry me out; flat upon my back, in the early rounds

Until the undefeated “One,” showed up and volunteered to become

“My Corner ^Man.” ~

Been doing somewhat fair since yet, still, a tad bit fuzzy in my head....

Absorbing blows amid a fight like this but, I Am, still standing

And I get my punches in also; sometimes, I even win a round or two?!

My corner Man said; “The Real Champ.” ~

"Just wait for the right time, he'll open up, and when he does

Then, put him on his back; hit him with a left and a quick right

Another left another right and then, use your cut....

....I promise you, I shall gladly count him out, for you ~

Just hang on, we've got him, right, where, we want him!?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              ....“The Title ^Fight”....

Details | Passion Poem | |

Touched by Your Flame

I watched them gather round
The warmth of your flame
Like campers at campfire time
Huddling close to you
Pushing and jostling
For the best place
I saw your warmth
Dancing off their faces
Small cinders escaping into the night
I followed the sparks drifting up
On the chilly breeze
Riding high…disappearing into the stars

I was cold
I was alone
On the edge
And yet…I dared not go near you
Though your light invited me
And I wanted so much to be warmed
By you
Yet….how could I find a place
By those encircling you
Watching the mesmerizing display 
Of your orange and yellow flames
There was no place
Among the gathering of....
The strong, the beautiful, the insistent
So, on the outskirts I stayed
Tears trickling down my cheeks
Cold
Alone…

I waited…I held back
Until they all left
One by one
Some bumping into me
Not even aware that I was alive
I waited until you had almost died out
No longer on display
But a warm glow of embers
Still orange and glowing with desire
And I approached
Shyly…
Longingly…
Needing to see you dance
For me….only for me
And I coaxed you
In my clumsy way
My fingers cold
My heart ablaze

Suddenly....you burst into flame
A pillar of fire
Miracle of love
For I had not added any kindling
But my little heart
And yet it seems you had waited
Knowing I would come
And my slightest touch
Made the flames spring to life
Voracious flames
Flames reaching the high heavens 
Your heat overpowering
Consuming
I almost threw myself into you
Wanting to reach the center
Of the heat and warmth
Of your beauty…

I spent the night
Out under the stars
Lying naked
Yet not cold
Naked
Yet not ashamed
Naked
Yet not shy
For your glow was my covering

I let myself be touched
Time and again
By licking fingers of fire
By the burning flames of your desire
For….ME!

For Gail's Contest
Touched by Your Flame
May 27, 2013

Details | Passion Poem | |

HER SOFT CANAL



The powder of white sand holds her flesh close to his musk pelvis as she gasps with the murmured waves trembling on the coast of a fragrant mouth against a manly tongue, and they lay on hidden grass in an old Ipanema cove where rippling strokes fondle the east and north of her sylph-like curves: amidst the liquid Brazilian dusk, her flowing hair sinks from the lapping of crest in rhythmic grinds; tanned fingers exploring a soft canal of a nymph's heightened pleasure… by the sea- bend, he pulls her creamy thighs like a driftwood sailing afloat upon each quivered abandon while they melt under balmy trees… without the need to speak. Justin Border's Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place 11/23/2014

Details | Passion Poem | |

A twisted tale -Mardi Gras-

Mardi Gras "The Medieval Story"  

On a hot, heavy night in Orleans,
Joan and Jane were seen rubbing chest on chest
An inviting, intimate moment, to undress
Two pretty trimmed tops, eating like dames
They touched in ways, that drove those who make war insane
The secret spilled, before the sun sprawled across the floor

Medieval England, banging on iron set doors,
All around men and women, wanting to witness the whiplash 
Beads and beads of love, thrown at their feet
Joan' and Jane', having fun in front of, yesterdays courtyard
Sweet acts of flagellation were performed to stimulate the crowd
Screaming, and receiving, intense, brutal lacerations 
In the eyes of endless nudity, everything wet in between 
Left to right, a secluded society, dance in masquerade 
Two men rise and ravage Jane, from hip to hip
Join-in, was a Jouster, and Lord Johnsburgh, 
They came-in a little closer to claim, Joan
Closing, and inflicting as much damage as possible

Crestfallen forces of the unknown, -the audience grows
Remain firm and indulge this wet period of the Middle Ages,

The first crusade, held stones in each hand, 
Applauding to neck the beauty of friends
A noose hanging high, held no head on this day
Yelling to feel the pain perils of anguish, 
This was in reality the vassal of Jane
The King, ask to see them on their knees
Before he seeded, sending the Spanish tickler, 
Fetching for the finest skin
At her end, Joan, watched Jane, spread like never before
Perfumed skin, rising up in smoke, -Joan's final stroke
Left burning at the Stake, In a Medieval World, from hell
The Siege of Joan and Jane, did not end well
 
A lonely Bard, now sits and sings a sadistic tale,
A tale, of dirty deeds, -a dancing bloody masquerade 
Joan and Jane, compensating for the Mardi Gras Parade

By: SKAT

Details | Passion Poem | |

Passion

you                 don't            know 


my                    love!


it              doesn't    whisper,



or speaks quietly    in        traffic         


where   it               might            not              be              heard.


my               love
                                  
                                      SCREAMS
                                                        LOUDLY even in the hush of the evening!



you             say                    you                 know me,
        
    
but                   you,               
                                         you don't know me.


PASSION!


it's in my work
                                  it's in my love
                                                                   sometimes they are the same.


PASSION!
                            for the woman I love
                                                                          it's in my kiss
                                                                                                         

let me 
                                                                introduce you to bliss.


PASSION!   
                            if I am your friend
                                                                    you know it...YOU KNOW IT!


you will see it in my eyes
    
                                                  a highway deep
                                                                                    

                                                                             an EXplosiON inTENse!
 

PASSION!

if I love you, 

             you know it, 

                             I'll be your full moon every night!


you think you know me 

                then call me by my name...


PASSION!
                           
                      when I write , it requires surgery


I have to split open the rib cage.
  

                                                                Break every bone.


It is the only way to get to the heart,



                                                 then you have to remove it


expose it,
                           
                                   it s~q~u~i~r~m~s as it is pumping.


It leaves a mess 
                                     

                       blood is spilled everywhere.


The bones heal
                           but
                                       you hear the sound of metal
                                                                                      on metal 


the gate shuts behind you.
                                                      
    
                                         There is a horrendous sound
                                    

it echoes in your skull,

                                     in your mind.

   
                                    There are sleepless nights.


There is a cost
    

                      a heavy cost. 


PASSION!
                          
                   If you want to speak to me,


after your punctuation is in place,


                            once your meter is formed perfectly,


                                                   I mean I don't mind.

            BUT! 

                  I want to see your heart,                        your love,


                                                       I want to see 


PASSION!


You say you know me, then address me by my name...

                                   
11~25~2014
Maurice Yvonne

Details | Passion Poem | |

I Look To the Moon

I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.

Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,       
I share no love with anyone.

The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.

While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
                                      
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
                            
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.

Details | Passion Poem | |

The Wind

~~The Wind~~
            
           ---
Look into my eyes
Follow me into a world of ecstasy
There and only there
Will you find the peace to unwind
           ---

Beautiful brown eyes not blue
Shady lids, stunning  ocean view
Embracing every word 

Hear the wind whispers your name
Come with me
Drown with me
Into the abyss of loving rain
Embrace this moment as I draw you in with words
Release you with the warmth -------I was there

I Share--I take
I LOVE--I HATE
Into my arms
I am the charm
Around your neck
Around your wrist
Listen to the voice from my beating heart
It yearns
The freedom of touch
The freedom of speech. 
Of love, 
Of purity
Like the wind
I'll find my way
Into your heart
Arouse the cheerful energy
Of your insecurity and pen
Follow me into the sea
There we will fall into the deep
Build sand castles 
Around dreams of reality
Slip into my aura light 
Set to the rhythm of the oceanic night

Now, listen to the breeze
It's called out your name
It's only a matter of time----------------
You'll find yourself calling out...... mine

by; PD
Dedicated to all my loving friends & fans :-)

Details | Passion Poem | |

A Cinderella Story

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Simon, I have something to say unto you. There was a certain creditor

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Whom had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And when they had nothing with which to pay he freely forgave them both.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tell Me, therefore, which of them shall love him more?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
   
Simon answered and said, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He said to him, “You have rightly judged.” He then turned to the woman and  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave Me

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

No water for My feet, but she has washed my feet with her tears and wiped them

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the hair of her head. You gave me no kiss, but this precious woman

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Has not ceased to kiss My feet since I came in. You did not anoint My head 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With oil, but this priceless woman has anointed my feet with fragrant oil.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Therefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven...Your faith has saved you. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Go in peace.” ~ “A Cinderella Story” ~

Details | Passion Poem | |

Hoping You Can Feel Me

I sit alone and I think of you, hoping you can hear me
If I close my eyes just before I sleep, I can see you more clearly
Even where I am now, where everything is dark
I can feel you here beside me, gently tugging at my heart!

Anxiously, I wait to hear a precious word or two
Something to let me know you feel me as much as I feel you
I take the blame and apologize for these nights I have denied you;
But this gives me time to love your mind before I lay beside you!

Let me take away your pain; wipe away your tears and guide you
Let’s make love by pen and paper before I meld with you
I hope my words don’t sound too strong but passion has no fear
Each breath I breathe like ecstasy that has built up during this year!

There is no cure for what I feel it’s just the pain that ails me
All prescription meds from the medical doctors have failed me;
And I know this is a lot to take in but I mean each word sincerely
This hungry letter sent with love and passion hoping you can feel me! 

Note:  Written for Audrey Carey's Sentimental Love Letters" Contest


Details | Passion Poem | |

Pulse

Inner conflict dissolves under your lunar eclipse
playing across my fingertips and lips 
tracing the hoodoo of your hips,
causing me to burn down into cinder-sticks
reborn as a Baton Rouge Phoenix
by the gravitational pull of Jupiter
orbiting in your eyes.

Rising above the ashes,
siphoning-off the swamp,
I collide in a slippery mudslide
of euphoria, until steam blows off
and only spring water remains
raining upon soil sprung apart
by the Trident of Hermes,
exposing for us naked iron
to place into a flame
dancing along liquid-skin language.

The extraction of you being the exception,
leaves behind a hole
to bury our fortresses of tragedy
grappling in our roots;
now broken-apart by our roots,
until the last crumbling stone 
sprouts into untainted sheaths -
rigid - yet willing to bend

with the mending currents
of change. Becoming cleaner within, 
hanging onto a truth to be found 
in the wholesome speck of dirt 
longing for my fingertips and lips
to feel the hoodoo in your hips;
a complementary dish of duality
alongside your whispers bleeding 
into the blood-waves of my heart
merging with your lunar pulse.






.

Details | Passion Poem | |

Afterglow

Momentary lapses of shyness 
within pretentiousness the size of a non-la-hat 
offering shade from your sweltering Sun, 
confused the boy still residing beneath an exterior 
of brashness. A wooing of rose or lotus petals?
Did she not enjoy such frivolity? Wot of a bard
letting words slide through the air like silk,
for I didn't possess such romantic poetry.
____


No, I embarked upon a journey of false-heroism,
took a bullet, figured it to shape me into a man.
I showed off the wound, blood soaking through the bandages -
you seemed far from impressed by this display of stupidity.
Yet you played coy,
bending over, letting sunlight play through a thin summer dress,
highlighting inner thighs, lines arching up into a dome of dizzy-delirium
so sensual it almost appeared sinful.

At night you'd undress before a naked window,
letting shadows flirt across moonlit dew.
It was all I could do to keep eyes averted,
instead, living on dreams of unwrapping gifts
under the influence of feverish waves,
even though I never forgot to take quinine.

And after all the games, 
I had only to stay still long enough for you to complete another sketch,
take its lines, breathe together a new poem,
unleashing torrents of words into my ear.
A funny sort of unconventional, tactile courtship.
You wanted me to listen, to test my patience,
and once your head was emptied out,
heat arose from the bloom, enveloping me in soft petals,
vanquishing my fever, with a different feverish embrace.
Your eyes almost felled me with their complexities
of virginal innocence and a whorish lust. The thrusts,
lips and fingers, the blended push-pull of rhythm and wild abandon
caused me to lose myself long enough,
to find your soul drifting alongside my own,
amongst the stars that had always been shining.
Amongst the light already written before our birth.












June 2nd, 2012

Details | Passion Poem | |

Person of Colour

Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.

Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.

This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.

This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.

This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.

This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.

This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.

Details | Passion Poem | |

let sacred delirium flow

(in-between wakefulness and dreaming, in-between free verse and prose....it flows - I wouldn't trade it for candy-coated couplets, nor silky sonnets set in cities of gold, for my delirium is uninhibited, unhinged, freely flowing) delirious non-linear shutter-frames capture us over there, here now, before - a nuance, a taste on the tip of my tongue leading me towards need without a name nor face. Prying open other people to see if you were inside. Searching for a known desire with an unknown label, to find something never actually lost - to make it more palpable - closer. Crawling out of my skin, out of my skull, slinking through invisible trees, you appear: a jungle cat licking my mind - you always made love to my soul first, before enticing me with a liquid growl off-set by the pitter-patter of paws and purring. Your purr, your velvet purr rumbles for my submission. Willingly I accept the invitation of vulnerable humility bowing towards a fearless trust lush with a luminary borderless meshing, catching up to right now. - Right now - Your black-light curvaceous muscled trembling licks my mind, my body, my hands and mouth glide across your skin, testing the earth for stability. The tectonic plates of my belly quake resettle within your womb. Inside-outside, outside-inside a lotus-soul union, just as ancients had hinted, dissolving, letting you devour me, before I drink from your salty grail. Over-stimulation leads to an un-thinking deep rhythm, waves pushing out - in until the shoreline and tides become indistinguishable, a backdrop to a pace quickening. Outside-inside of you, you are outside-inside of me, there is no longer the need to fear unknowns, for the unknown guides us higher, guides us ever deeper, until even our release merges with the flow of ancient rippling rhythm. .

Details | Passion Poem | |

Long Distance Dreamer

Call me evil
Call me names
Call me 

Kiss me on the lips
Kiss my heart
Kiss me

Wrap me in your arms
Hold me within your breasts
Whisper your longings

Touch me with your voice
Touch me with your caress
Touch me

Fondle the thought of forever
Fondle the thought of longing
Fondle me

Dance for the happiness inside of you
Dance to wash away your tears
Dance into my arms

Walk the path of wisdom
Run towards my heart
Kiss contentment

The sword of lust is shining
A dozen daffodils to undress your heart
Flower me with kisses

Call me

Details | Passion Poem | |

Tartan and Pipes

Tradition and dress
A nations finesse
Symbolic in style
By a country mile
 
The drone of the pipes
Tartan clad
Bonnie on the girls
Proud on the lads
 
Highland dancers
In kilted skirts 
Grooms at weddings
Kilt and dirk

But our Tartan and Pipes
Go back many years
Led soldiers into battles
See the enemy fear

After Culloden
Both were banned
A country naked
At the English hand

Our clans of many
In colours so grand
Woven by weavers
Our women's hands

All over the world
Scots are spread
Taking their Tartans
Of green, blue and red

It's a welcome reminder
To the kin of their past
Never forgotten
Designed to last

This plaid of cloth
History enriched
Scottish pride
In every stitch

And like our pipes
From centuries past
This Scottish of Scots
Are here to last


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php

Details | Passion Poem | |

When Love Creates

Eyes to eyes now meet Tenderly our lips touch We, adventurous Rhythmic vibrations rejoice When love creates little ones .

Details | Passion Poem | |

DEVOTION


           I dream of you
           I fantasize
           I see you when
           I close my eyes
           I speak your name
           With every breath
           I vow to love you 
           Unto death
           I think of you
           All the day long
           My love expressed
           In verdant song
           I speak of you
          To all my friends
           I long for you
          When each day ends
          I see your smile
          In every face
          In my heart you hold
          A special place
          I know that we
          Were meant to be
          And that you're the only 
          One for me
          And when I go
          To sleep at night
          I know this love
          Is more than right

Details | Passion Poem | |

A Getaway To Ancient Venice

I can still recall the look upon His face Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass by the picturesque Doge's palace We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house which now has risen from its ashes. We sauntered forward through little alleys from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style. Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'. This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs' The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica, at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever. There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )