Best In The Heat Of Poems
The first time I saw you, there was a glow about you
that baffle me. I-I just could not find the right word,
"you had that certain glow about you". Not the way you walk
nor the way you move, "but I believe in miracle's", yes
I do - yes I do. So finally I step to you and ask, would you,
could you smile ? just for the camara in my mind so that the
image of an Angel would be on my mind just in case the world
ended (today) much to soon, much before time. The first time
I saw you naked Angela, my mouth got lost for words-but the one
that slip through my lip's were (mmmunn) "what a gorcious women,
breast like lucious melons", and a voice (sweet) like that of the ocean
and wave's of heat and my idea of nerviousness brings trembeling to
my feet's.
"I do believe in miracle's", "I do not believe in love". Miracle's that it
take to sustain a relationship that the odd's of longivity are against us.
And we do become desponded, most of our day is spent fussing and cussing.
Never to see true love at its best. The first time our lip's did touch, I remem-
ber this Angel who I call Angela, she had my name tattoe across her chest.
Love, became the missing attraction, and you comfort me in my desire to ex
press myself, for I thought I was so macho, never in a thousand years, "will I
meet such a someone (?) that's such a women". A women (aaaah) such a
women, "from her head to her shoe".
Now Angela just in case the world ends tomorrow. Don't denie that there's an
"attraction". O'Angela.....kiss me quickly, "In the heat of Passion".
I weave through blazing flames
Fanning my scorching heart
Spinning sparks attempt to tame
Not even a gram of pain subsides
All that is magical gone - my existence torched
A helium filled heart taunting me
Floating high escaping my grasp
As the smoke clears I see
His embers still burns for another
All that is magical gone - my existence torched
.
‘In The Heat of The Night’
The night is sultry and the languid breeze
Smells of sticky sweet Jasmine
As it clings to each salty bead of sweat
Dripping…
Dripping…
Dripping…
From your brow, onto my breasts.
Waves break in the distance
Echoing each tangled arch
And the sea, the warm, wet, surgent sea
Cools in a steaming mist against our feet…
Ebbing…Flowing…Ebbing…Flowing…
Stirring molten love’s embrace
Like ‘Dante’s Inferno’…
Until the flaming, unbridled, night is stolen--
By the rays of the morning light.
deborahburch©
07/24/2012
Amisdt the lull of flying rockets and shells I stare at this photo and feel terribly sad
My Grandfather, cut down in youth; my Dad, bound in a chair, with legs, iron clad
Mom with foresight, had it sealed in plastic, to keep it safe away from the damp
She may have dreamt on some dark night that I'd spend time in this cold swamp
Although sheets of rain fall endlessly fast, intermittent sunlight cast out warm rays
So often this brings some comfort and the hope, that all this will end soon, some day
Knee deep in rice fields we tread, with deadly snakes; critters running for dear life
Frightened by sounds of hell's orchestra accompanied by fires and strange light
So many buddies lay in final sleep; I am numb; I no longer feel lucky to be alive
Unaware of where or who the enemy is; bearing no special distinction from allies
And I believe, this is a horrible joke being played designed to steal souls of men
What else is hidden as we grimly watch our friends' bodies packed in bags to send
In the heat of battle we stand brave; but cry for Mothers as we lie in this trench
Any atempts to conceive how is this serving my country, in fury my fists would clench
In this shadow of death I make peace with my maker as death may take me away
How arrogant and delusional to believe that destiny can be circumvented this way..
~*~
For Miranda Lambert's "World War of Vietnam" Contest
Spare me the goof,
O dear Captain,
Hear the rattling mess tins,
My dear old kit bag,
Worn out in action,
I lost my hold-all,
The spare drawers’ cotton,
A half-full water bottle,
Almost emptying my Haversack lunch,
The sun is scorching,
The camouflage is withering,
The cover is blowing out,
Silhouetted we crawl,
The impetus is gathering, hell no,
The attack is uphill, so soon,
O dear Captain,
Silver-tongued Captain,
Think so fast, so fast like never before.
smart cop from Philly
bigoted Southern sheriff-
...call me Mister Tibbs!
Sharing a night of ecstasy
Closing the door on all fantasies
This moment is all about me and you
Not even the thickest Ice-cube
Could melt the passion I feel for you
These flames that burn are forever
for you I set them free
my heart aches for you to touch me, and hold me
In a moment you will see
A erotic night between me and you
can I tell you the things I want to do
baby let's start by dimming the lights
I want this moment to be such a delight
No, wait, were moving too fast,
we better slow down,
so this love will last
In the heat of
the moment
Split irrational
decision making
Leaves both
party's concerned
With a deep
sense of regret
A glimpse out the window morphs into a gaze
Brugmansia, your mystical delicate beauty clears
Air conditioned stupor. There you sway
Gracefully grasping toward thirst-quenched solidity.
Firmly rooted one strand beyond limp susceptibility
Leaves randomly ragged from young rodents' teething
Swelteringly bearing the dark side of nature
Fresh blossoms emanate dignity's essence
Despite gloomy doomsday predictions
Angel trumpeting goodness and peace.
Twisting in to glimpse your chest undulating,
(Mine surges with your ear to my ribs)
A letter framed between fruit, caught the street light
Glitters gold and orange, blurred in the rain windshield;
My fingers run the road on your head,
U-turn as they yield toward the back,
And you shutter, eyes close, neck up,
Lips spread, and gasp while I coast forward.
You pressed hard, harder, to my breast
Carrying my other hand along you seat,
And your fingers twinkled along my arm-
Goosebumps injected through my leg.
You tug at my collar, drawing me in
Until your espresso eyes burned the dashboard‘s time,
And the door opened, defrosting the windows,
Leaving me with perfume and your print on the cushion.
Love finds itself fading away. "In the Heat of the Night" sweat from your inner possessions In the heat of the night.
Sympathy sets in like a thief in the night awaiting at gun point leaving no room for escape.
Exhausted, crushed as if depression has caught up as one sinks down low with moments of valleys and peaks that lead to episodes of disappointment & pleasure like a enemy who enters...
"In the heat of the night" leaving unreal illusions of maybe so, are just laughter with no room for escape.
It hurts so bad, inferior, second rate, unpleasant, unwelcome and unfavorable.
In the heat of night all hell breaks loose.
It's like a forbidden fruit, the taste of rotten legacy in the pit of your stomach as it's juices run down the frontal part of a naked body lost & alone poisoned by the forbidden fruit.
It's in the heat of the night that the forbidden fruit comes ALIVE...
just to be faced with reality of truth.
In the Heat of the Moment
What do you do when you get in those
awkward positions where you just don’t
know what to do?
I mean, you know that you should
tell, but you’ve been conditioned
by the culture not to.
Snitches are persecuted and ridiculed.
They become outcasts as the masses
disassociate themselves from such a man.
So in the heat of the moment, you stop
and let the madness continue before you.
You try to carry on as if you saw nothing,
but something inside of you tells you that
you should have spoken up about what
you just saw.
In the heat of the moment you lost your dear friend
With that mean, nasty e-mail you weren't gonna send
You're so quick-tempered and course
Four wives filed for divorce
Your heated moments tore ties which won't mend
10/20/22
in the heat of the night
elegant, authentic, articulate
around her neck
fine ornamental jewelry
she walked majestically
she was confident and sure
with smiles she came to him
he embraced her tightly
then kissed her passionately
romanticism was all the air
solid brass was the decor of the room
in finishes were chrome and antique gold
she moaned
he responded with a grunt
then she collapsed into rubble
then became a heap of dust
he stood alone
stranded lost in questions
Wind whispers through the ears of distant lovers as the sun hides behind ominously positioned clouds
where their gray cast shadows on quiet hearts
quiet minds, & quiet eyes alike
Poor lovers, transfixed by natures embodiment of their undisclosed truths,
words no more manageable than a peep escaping a ducklings throat
Eyes shut wide, glued by dependance
Waiting for mama to come, waiting to be fed
But there is no food here, just gray
& mama will not come it is just you and i
& the feelings we dare not bare
Starving ourselves
waiting for spring to melt the ice away