Best Passionprayer Poems
Riddles twisting through the scalps,
Trace the paths that wind about
Pouring out through the watery spout
Like waterfalls, inside and out
Possessed by a madness,
Sadness reaps my every thought
Isolated by my shadow, I’m laying in the dark
And the river flows faster as the ferry embarks,
Behind brown eyes, find a crimson spark
As your prayer begins,
He seeks the mark of a sin,
Let the silver sink in,
Embracing your skin
And while every breath escapes from your heart,
You ask him, “What makes thee force my depart?”
With a love so strong, “Till death do us apart”
Day after day, this phrase you’d impart.
But when all control is powered by a fiend,
Darkness meets light, and the two are convened.
The passion of one causes will to concede,
Even when sacrifice compels thee to bleed.
And nothingness gathers to deliver me downward
Live amongst souls, and regret begins to shower
Blind to your ravenous taste to devour
From the day we began, you’ve dwelled within power
But confusion arouses where you don’t understand
I continue to love you, beyond my command
Dare you to rid me, you think that you can
But I’ll linger in this stream, from now till your end.
I have been unfaithful,
under a curtain of night
even as you laid
a fingers breath from my hem,
he stole my affection
in sheared moments of Ecstasy
~~~
We came together
an eclectic mix,
liquid methane and fire,
once we had merged
our passion ignited
after the flames died down,
I took out a staff of creation
combining oceans of words
with waves baring
the muniments to love,
in a age of stars
nestled in black petals
and in the prayer rolls of galaxies,
my letters of adoration
shimmer
you can use a finger
and trace the path of my desires
through night
mouths of dark and light
kissed,
soft and gentle,
to a fevered fumbling
making poems slide out
between a tongue of your breath
and my lips,
I create my own beginnings,
until the end is whispers
I ask for no Taj Mahal
or crown of Sheba,
what use have I for a thousand ships
hulls busting agape with ardor,
I only yearn to taste the first syllable
that flows from the tip of your tongue
my lust twirls dream-catchers
and yet I crave the rush of methane,
my lust sparks to mark the darkness
with shooting streams of love
~~~
Neruda whispers to me of scents loosed
on the float of lemon flowers,
his rest begun
in a the soft valley
of my heart, and
he knew not how,
or when or from where
but from the other side
he found a way to my heart
timing the tide,
his words now rest under my tongue
and are savored with passion,
I am reduced, again and again
all this?
is only in my mind
She is mornings first light,
The path to my every new day...
My prayer that rests, where all my trust,
laughter, and love unfold.
She is mornings first light,
she is the rise - she is the set,
of all my new days,
...She is
Written for my beautiful wife on our wedding day 24 04 10