Month: August 2016

Waking dream 

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She stood before me. Tall in her heel, standing fierce. The soft paleness of calves curve upward. Her form is strength and hardship. But soft, so soft. Flesh that takes the markings of our lovemaking, that marks the lines of her possession. The heady scent of her cunt mingles with her soft perfume. Smelling of delicacy and delight, recalling the taste of her sweetness. Eyes take in the slight abundance of belly, this she sees as flaw and I see as beautiful. Yielding, the sound of a flogger slapping lightly, further marking her as mine. Her breasts are pillows, showing my bite marks, bruising in blacks, blues and yellows. She says they hurt and remind her of my attention and intention throughout the day. Each mark, each bruise, each small pain, reminding her of my total possession.

She watches me drink her in, wicked grin on her face. This our ritual each time. Her grin bursts wider pulling deep within me. This the smile that makes me want to ravish her, to take her until there is nothing left but grunts and pain and pleasure. All humanity torn away. Give in to shear animalistic rutt.

Her eyes twinkle, like she knows what I’m thinking. Like she knows and deeply approves. Knowing in my gaze and less than tender mercies, finally at last, how truly beautiful she is.

New song

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I don’t have a title for this yet.  I just know I can’t sing it.  It requires a softer voice, one with a wider range than mine. 

I’m singing to you
It’s bout all I can do
Trying to tell you, you’re not here alone
You’re  crying your tears, I swear they’re just fears, I’m not walking away, you’re my world, you’re my day,

You’ve been hurt, you’ve been hurt before

You’re  my heart, you’re my heart, you’re my darkness in day

Its not all been a lie, let me hold you tonight

You are loved,  you are loved, you are loved

No need for your tears, your harboring fears

I bind up your wounds,
You’re  my morning,
my noon

These words on the page
Are,
all,
that’s left,
to say

These broken memories, these shattered hooks, they’re lost in the melodies, this ain’t a storybook

I’m singing to you
It’s all I can do
Just sitting alone
Trying to tell you you’re  not here alone
You’re  crying your tears, I swear they’re just fears, I’m not walking away, you’re my world, you’re  my world, you’re my day,

I love you, I love you, I love you
Why can’t I get you to stay
Why are you walking away

Sussurra

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And I’ll falter through my falling lines
Dancing my depression
Remembrance of the passing time
It’s sifting down to sadness
Our drinking has reached its peak
And brought a passing semblance
Of passion that is ours to keep
A welcoming of madness

A drifting dream
I seek to wake
And claim a rightful lightness
But ere I dream
I’m lost to sleep
And drinking only darkness

How it should be

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I want pull you up, heedless who watches
standing so close to you
my hot breathe against the pulse of heartsblood
small kisses trailing across the soft curve of neck
hands holding you close to me
body heat nearly unbearable
the scent of desire spilling from us
look deep into your eyes grown large with surprise
growl
you are mine. mine.
take your kiss as my rightful plunder
your tongue against mine
fast and rough
gliding and pressing
the floodgates of passion denied
press you down
sitting
removing your clothes
hands exploring every inch of you
soft kisses and bites on every exposed bit of you
Mine. mine.
holding your eyes
looking up
exposing your secret
your scent
tightening me
throbbing ache filled with tumultuous need to taste the storm of you
my lips against your pussy
mine, mine
taste of you dripping in my tongue
fingers stroking inside of you
kisses trailing up to your shuddering breast
fingers slick and pulsing in and out
thumb circling the soft nub of clit
licking your nipples
eyes holding you
bite down
marking you
mine, mine
bodies pressed so close
I take your mouth, lips pressed in with wild unbridled need
there is nought but you
you are my world
and we have just begun

Essence drips leaving puddles

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I’ve dreamed of my leaving
a heart full of needing, and darkness
I’m keening
the life meant for leading
upturned faces looking
for their choices to echo my own and somehow be validated
don’t look to me for encouraging
I foster ideas not to be followed but to stand you up and get you to thinking
so I have companions of thought if not heart
I’ve been lost
and I’m losing all sense of being
just wanting and needing
loving and leading
but always found wanting
but wanting for what
I’m never told

choices I’m making
just missing and living
each dripping second seems to lose meaning
life’s just happening
I say I’m not playing and acting in earnest
how can you know if you won’t hear what I say
easier just to walk away
than explain my falling

you were debating, and I was losing an argument I didn’t know was happening
its all just so easy to run rather than face
but running each time
you start to lose the race
before it’s begun
and I’m just here waiting

planning and plotting for circumstance that may never be
but I’d rather be loving
be burning
be the fire
than to drown myself out before it’s begun
this pain is a nightmare and it aches just to be
but I live all the way out there
all the way free

consequences to actions
countervailing force
ripping me to shreds and I can’t help but feel you are the one hurting
and all I am wishing that you were still mine to help
I’m standing here bleeding
heart’s blood dripping
but it’s you I would mend if I could

Poetry and inspiration

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Writing poetry is actually easier when you have hope. When you are not racked with second guessing and deep emotional and physical pain. Who knew? It actually comes as a bit of a surprise to me. Since so much of my work revolves around darker themes. It turns out I was recovering from the pain of loss and that allowed me to write. But the actual pain doesn’t lend itself to other than crippling repetition of the same confused maddening phrases. So, bottom line, I am cooling it with the poetry unless inspired or I’m on the mend. Which is not my state now. I’m torn between wanting to scream or punch things and I can do neither. I want to crawl into someone’s arms and just be held. But there’s no one to do that. So I have to take care of it on my own. She shredded me and it’s eating me up that I don’t know why silence instead of conversation was her choice. Why was I so easy to discard. Nope, shutting up now. Like I said, endless cycle of the same things.

Rage and despair

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So quickly it all turned from finding you
From finding passion beyond words
From hearing you say yes,
yes this passion
Yes we found each other
yes, you
To this deafening, rendering silence
This pain beyond measure
Past words, past responses
How could it be gone now as if it never was?