Details |
Norman Barton Poem
There is a flow that tempts the beat to expand beyond the tempo of social endeavors.
I taste the sweet sweat of the dance that beads into my mouth like nectar of magick coursing through me to become more fluid.
Stretching out beyond the ether like a current swirling, swelling, and then motioning me deeper into bliss that vibrates in space time
Time that dissolves into synchronicity with movement of the dance
A dance of ecstasy watching her move and knowing that the moment is never ending, yet hinges on its own conclusion that most certainly must come.
Shoulders smoothly rocking, hips swaying, and eyes too demure to let words encase them with their limits.
This is the treasure of life being lived.
This is the worth of being.
Copyright © Norman Barton | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Norman Barton Poem
Tender sweet kiss
Lips, rosebuds and rain
Eyes open in defiance
Wild, green, and wide
Tilting my neck up
They lean in
Fitted stones, linked
Breath coalesced
We, tragic love
We, adored
Skin and all, blended
Space to time
Heavens ungated
Heartbeats
Gladly given
And then
Petite Mort
Copyright © Norman Barton | Year Posted 2026
|