Long for the tender tormenting touch of her slips, a vermillion vice of the abyssal depths that lay within the merest brush of her breath, a zephyr's caress that set aflame the parched arid landscapes of my wasteland as sighs hollow echoes whispered promises grew, the inferno of my longing raged, a maelstrom of need that threatened to consume all reason, all restraint in the swirling crimson vortex of those velvets, the boundaries of our recurrent reality grew tenuous, and the tyranny of the flesh held sway as the flexuous uncharted curves of your caress became the acid test of my resolve, dissolving the fragile, varnished veneer of self control, as the confinement of thy desires began to dissolve like gossamer under the scorching waxen sun of ardent, copious passion.
As we entwined, visceral privilege awoke, like hydras flourishing in some foresworn elixir, every casual respite yawned vacant, sucked into the vampiric vortices of intolerably testy discontent.
How provoking, this postponement of unbound reciprocity, tongue just grazing the tips of those plush velvet onyx lips, while catalyzing inveigling suspense
On this mountaintop I sit
In solitude reclined –
For such a heightened lift
Soul-weary did I climb
The world foresworn – a bit
(My aching heart inclined)
A flowing form of art
A hawk goes soaring by
In curving – graceful – arc
Suspended in the sky
It liberates my heart
And with the hawk I fly
Heart to beating heart
Eye to seeing eye
The Late Night Consultation, The Compromise, The New Delusion
Three nights of sadness, each a woe'some torture,
on that narrow ledge a cold raging deep within
I having lost that which I had foresworn to hold
and in that realization- saw myself as a true fool.
While wearing a smooth path on the silent floor
apathy and pain, moonlit beams beat on a crying soul
no amount of self-delusion calmed that sorrow
nor gave reprieve from guilt of a rash youthful act.
Sure there were those moments that I almost won
a compromise between aching heart and sad soul
but reality- its harsh resurrection invaded the scene
and dark despair into the room again loomed large.
Nothing to do but find a way to wake to a new dawn
get busy again with life and its many paths to take
yes, such clever deception had oft worked in the past
and does not each dawn promise a desirous new start?
Robert J. Lindley, free verse ,original Jan23rd 1977
Reworked, 6-24-2021
( In a self-discovering look back at life )
IS HE ME?
Today, whichever man is now with you
Whoever is doing that which we used to do
Whoever gets to feel what I once felt
I hope he appreciates the sexy, sylphlike and svelte
To whomever your heart has now been led
Whatever man now shares your bed
I’d give him the following information
You get my unrivaled recommendation
Does he worship you as a goddess at once born,
and treat you just like an angel foresworn?
Does he now know what I knew at one time,
and does he realize he sleeps aside the sublime?
Is every day an adventure like the ones we once shared,
back when I still mattered and when you still cared?
Do you play in the surf like we did in bare feet,
and as I did does he bless the day you both came to meet?
Are you as comfortable with him as you were with me?
Or will you burn him like you burnt me in effigy?
Did you swear your lasting allegiance with a sip of sacramental wine?
Or will you implode his world the way you exploded mine?
© 2012…copyright PHREEPOETREE ..~free cee!~
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.