Hold tight little one
To all the things that matter
Namely, hold my hand.
The scent of a blossom
the breath of the wind
A freshness fills the air
life on a Spring day without a care
Time wafts over us
loosens its grip
By squeezing you a little tighter,
It makes our love burn even brighter.
Your touch is the fire igniter,
For that prize, I'm the fighter.
My fingers tracing your every curve,
Forcing a breath not to lose my nerve.
Two souls entrusted without reserve,
A precious gift I do not deserve.
Moving forward with steady devotion,
Standing fast through all commotion.
Time forever lost in pure emotion,
We're skin to skin lost in quiet motion.
A heart that persist win with pride
The race of time and its silence,
Throughout joyful inconvenience...
Grace uphold above hopeful ride.
Uncertainty has its effect,
On steps to be taken with light,
To bail out vow's long supposed fright
When opened to choice love neglect.
Seek truth and be made whole, darling.
Take each quest beyond quarrelling...
Lay your head, check your assurance
Before hope rides life's deliverance;
Then take you back in time snarling-
Unsolved puzzles, aptly gnarling...
after "Do not go gentle into that good night", by Dylan Thomas
Age can not scour away the furrowed gnarls time obeyed,
Nor mask the snarls, gouged as trenches on brows.
Grace knurls the grip that time has long betrayed,
To swage wrath and fury to a form that age endows.
Grace reveres the knurled design that time has hewn,
Not as a defect or flaw, but as grip etched by yen of years,
Like old trees twisted, contorted, too far gone to prune.
It’s grace that cradles calloused scars, not fears.
It’s the gnarls of age that knurls the last grasp of rage
to rebel against the curse of dusk’s encroaching bite.
Stroking the rebellious snarls that ring on anvil stage,
as loved ones bear the thumps and flails of the plight.
It's the gnarls of age that knurls the grip to fight,
against the blight in the coming of good night.
saw Trump on a ship
we had to give you a tip
better get a grip
Happy happy never more
Pain and suffering stalk your door
Let them in and now they’ll stay
ruining each and every day
Will they leave and go away
So mind and body again can play
Hopes and dreams smashed on the floor
Life is sad forever more
Like the ocean s the shore
endlessly, violently,
Until I'm nothing but salt on your skin.
Dripping sweet with memories...
Freaky hard do me.
On the edge of the kitchen counter,
Knock over the wine glass I never finished.
Pull my legs apart as I claw at your shirt,
Bite down on my shoulder to muffle the growl,
And leave me dripping where the light flickers.
So hard, do me.
Hold me down,with a grip that
Screams it's me who got a hold of you!!!
Push into me like you're carving
Your name into something eternal.
Make me forget the cold floor
Beneath us, the way the world spins.
Make me remember only you...
Just me.
morning
glories wrap
beautiful flowers
climbs, squeezes, chokes their stalk, limbs
so like some humans who climb, squeeze, choke until
He had a very tight grip
When he kissed her luscious lips
It stirred him up bad
He forgot his name was Chad
Didn't realized that he'd just stripped
Held within my dreams
I can see you dieing
Deep within my veins
I can feel you crying
What has attacked you
Left you bleeding
What has Hurt you
Left you screaming
Why are you in so much pain
What has ripped out
Your soul and
Left you in shame
What tries so hard
To steal from you
Your name
Convince you to stop living
Wrapping even your hopes
in chains
Tell Me...
Can you hear me ?
Speak to me !
ONYX !!!
Listen to me !
Horn Haiku
on self should get grip
after he would crack the whip
he was sure to flip
Misty moonlighting red Queen
Biting into apple of the eyes
Drinking from the well of light.
A thousand whispers silently into one dream
eclipsing lunar pearl glowing faraway bright
In satin darkness within velvet touches teardrops
Blessings forever born in a distant horizon ivory white speaks
Angel of mercy joined together our reflections spin
Out of this world onto another
Cotton weaving Web shadows silver
kissing the night spotlight
Blessed with hope
Resurrection of a soul
Into one candlelight we dance
cheek to cheek forever
embraced with honeycombed affections
deep beautiful warm delight
You know that fashion's got you in its grip
when you embark on a shopping trip
to scout out the latest markdowns and deals
on matching trash cans ~ C'mon, Jill, get real
Among the boulders that gaze on with proud regard
When times are rigorous, having patience is hard
Water gently brushes the riverbanks over time
Blue river flowing slowly, crickets chirping in rhyme
The river's peace is disrupted, though, by the rain
Our babies are sobbing louder, battering our brains
As it evolves, it surpasses every hurdle in its path
Of ravenous sadness or the grasp of wrath?
In such instances, I find myself tearing up at the core
However, I struggled and failed to locate any doors
Clock hands are in motion, moving at a rapid pace
In slow motion, creep through the daily, hectic race
Appear weary as they watch the clock tick down
The bull broke his knees, and the farmer lost the crown
As I delete memories, I am reminded of the past
I had believed that all my history was cast
Knowing what adds delight and delivers pleasure
Will let the hectic, noisy swarm steal their treasure
Let me feel it in the punctured vein of pure essence
And practice a fire sprayer to indicate our presence
I contemplate until I'm numb if pain once raged
I yearned for the river as I aged.
Written: June 02, 2023
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