The curve of your eyes envelops me like a dream,
A tender dance, sweet as honey,
In the halo of time, a basin of peace in the night,
Yet within me remains a memory that never ends.
I look back and it seems I can hardly remember
All the moments lived, the dreams touched,
For your eyes have not always been mine,
But now I find my entire story within them.
The leaves of the day turn into the scent of dew,
Reeds sway in the gentle breeze,
Your fragrant smiles soothe my soul,
Invisible wings carry us along the paths of light.
In imaginary boats, we venture on sky and sea,
Sound hunters in a world full of color,
Springs of dreams nourish us with happiness,
In the tenderness of our gazes hides our great love.
The fragrance of our golden moment is sealed in sunrises,
Resting eternally on the straw of shining stars,
As if the day depended on the innocence of night,
So the entire universe depends on your pure and luminous eyes.
And in my depths, all my blood flows under your gaze,
Like an endless river of love and melancholy,
In every moment spent together, in every tender touch,
We are parts of a story, of a love that lasts forever in our hearts.
There's strength in being bent, askew,
for in nature nothing is straight on cue.
Trees lean the way the wind blows.
Streams carve the path where water flows.
Bending to flex and bow is not compliance,
For resilience resists, reworks defiance.
Standing under the hot sun
The sand of the beach singing melodies of tingling to my toes
I watched your summer body as the sun kissed it
Running away from the waves of the ocean
Your curves and edges bounced
Speaking volumes of your succulence
You were happy and full of life
Turned a few heads in your direction
You became the reason for many erections
I didn't mind
None of theirs will feel your warmth
The sun can kiss your body
I'm the one going to kiss where the eyes of the sun cannot reach
Young Woman
You were not made
You were carved
You were not created
You were built
God had nothing to do with your creation
He is too conservative to create such a gorgeous weapon of mass ********
Damn!!!!
ABSOL
A smile
Can mean happiness,
When brimming with bliss.
A smile
Can mean surprise
With twinkle in one’s eyes .
A smile
Can mean empathy
When hearing a story.
A smile
Can mean sorrow
Burying it further heart’s burrow.
But when a smile
Never loses its shine
That can only mean—
A determined mind!
Do you need me as much as fish
A waterproof raincoat would need?
A piece of salmon on your dish
Is dressed with sprouts and beet
You watch the breaking news report
One candidate withdrew
His rival did survive from shot
Looks like he’s getting through
The world will get what it deserves
You vaguely think of this
And there I am, behind the curve
Still casually exist
I’d love to come across the floor
To see your face again
Why you mistreat me like a foe
Unblock my weary brain
The words are said, the deeds are done
All days belong to you
And all the evenings, when the sun
Tints up your eyes with blue.
("Eye of God", 2018, original encaustic mixed media - wax, pigments and mirror)
Clearly God Grades On a Curve
After several hours of working hard
finishing up siding a small sheep shed,
before winter comes and the cold winds blow,
I lay in the warm bath, seduced
to the edge of sleep by two sips of beer.
I’m roused by a rousing motivational speech
delivered apparently to all the minions
within my body-mind.
And like Whitman, it seems the multitudes
I contain are vast.
Workers, common laborers and skilled,
designers, engineers, and inspectors,
critics, loafers, the assorted homeless bums
and burnt out hippies fried by one too many trips
to who knows where, seeking who knows what…
Anyway, the speech I remember,
the part that woke me,
was the simple affirmation
that they’d all earned,
“An A for effort!”
And laying there half submerged
nursing my sore joints and tired limbs,
I realized with the calm assurance
of the mystic, that clearly
God grades on a curve.
(9/9/23)
A sanctioned priest fell in his cell
Lickety-split straight down to Hell
He grabbed a spade
But for its shade
Since Climate Change does not bode well
Everything pressing on my mind
So, I question, why?
Blessings are small when addressing
Where I am currently at right now.
Life is compressing my being
With every-day turmoil progressing.
I am a window dressing of peace,
But a different narrative inside.
Blessings my Lord, gaze down on me
And open a flood gate of discipline,
Help me transcend above it.
7/5/2022
Our Vicar has a magic wand
A gift from some old vagabond
Though our choir can't sing
His "uppity" thing
Will rise to salute every blonde!
poised
above the minaret
a crescent moon –
a woman in labour
holds her husband’s hand
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A Strand (1048) Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
© 3rd December 2021
Note: The crescent moon is related to life… a sign of fertility.
The ‘curve’ refers to the moon and the belly of the pregnant woman.
Amorous bygones
planetary gifts remorsed
present tense children
Enableability taken away
in an instant, the way it was granted.
If we be a conduit, we should not sway,
there being no ego to be flaunted,
with no narrow thoughts, feeble and slanted.
We being oriented for expansion
are thus disconcerted by contraction.
However, it is the ego upset
having lost reason for celebration,
since pristine presence always stands erect.
11-November-2020
Each night the dream is the same, just the actors change. Sometimes in the middle of the scene. I yell cut but the only thing stopped is my part in this nocturnal show.
Tonight it seems the script is changed but an all star cast runs the stage. My only job is to play audience throw the roses shout "bravo!" Standing ovation, we know how it goes. But as I go to throw sweet smelling appreciation, the ending has changed this kiss between lovers has been changed to a kiss between romantic interest and rival for everything our hero wishes to be. Woah, woah, woah I cry, they can't hear me. The kiss is too passionate to let sounds penetrate its imaginary walls. Where's our hero? Where's the star of the show? He's out back smoking and weary of doing the same performance night in night out. It was his idea, all of this was his doing and his actions have caused this uncomfortable and unwanted ending. I stand in the rows of seats, bouquet waiting to be thrown, to shower the new happy couple with petals and fill their own world in a shade of beautiful red. I drop the flowers on the floor, I walk out the door. I wake up... tonight I just know the dream will be the same again.
So
hot
cute
smart
cuddly
dances
attentive
seductive
accessible
Sympatico
intoxicating
mesmerizing
college bound
straightforward
smart as a whip
eager to please
always on time
100% truthful
pleasurable
enthralling
incredible
orgasmic
funniest
gentle
sweet
sexy
soft
fun
A young girl with the Spanish Fly
Decided it was, "Do or die"
Could she fit in
So many men?
There was nothing to do but try!
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