spin in madness
silk dancing on the wind
sweetened wine and drunken song
maddened revelry
music softening
slow circles
nose to nose
looking into eyes
intimacy amidst distraction
shortened pulses and wandering hands
lips in warmth and tasting
arms circled
in dances beginning
There is nothing I can give you
And nothing I can take
A shadow long and burning
A moment ere I wake
But I am lost to dreaming
I am lost, it’s true
The dream is of my making
Of building more to you
I am softly waking
A moment I’m confused
Your warmth has long fled
This heart we built for two
On waking I am empty
A space too big to fill
Your heart is slightly broken
But I have seen much worse
I will patch you up
Be a Latticework
You will heal
And when you leave
I will be undone
but a little fuller too
I will hold the hope that wounded birds
Made whole and now to fly
Will remember that broken man
And visit time to time
And secret kept in heart of hearts
That one will wish to stay
The foolish hope that brings,
And holds the reckless
tears at bay
In a very immediate way, physical intimacy is an outgrowth of emotional intimacy. I know that is backwards of how it usually works. And there was a time when I tried to embrace that. But it never really clicked for me.
It’s a high then a crash to nothing. Fun in the moment, but we(writers/poets) don’t live in the moment. We live in the vastness of our minds. Exploring our lives and emotions. Coming to the surface to give this found secret to the world.
If I am emotionally connected, then there is a moment in my lovers eyes, an echo of that discovery, of that perfect moment of vulnerability and hope that takes me beyond the shores of physical pleasure. To a place of the mind. Taking them with me into my heart.
Maybe that is scary. To think that way. Or be thought of that way. Fear, this kind of fear, has always been an indication that I am doing something right.
Afraid , emotional and vulnerable. Thinks too much, cares too much. Broken and mending. Practiced and fumbling.
I am all of these things. But, if I love you, it will always be so. And though we may be parted, I will always carry you, my love for you, in my heart.
A hard limit is a line I won’t cross. I won’t take without the consent of the taken. Once given, I won’t betray my word. I defend those I consider mine.
I don’t like to be humiliated or insulted. If I want something, I say what I want. If the answer is no, that’s OK but I don’t beg. I don’t play the try harder that’s not enough game. If something is needed or lacking, I expect to be asked for it or told in what way it is lacking.
The games I play have a start and an end. Which I will declare. If I don’t say it is a game then it isn’t.
I shall be a lie amidst truth
A heart too full for wanting
A silence too kind and twisting
Harsh breathe slipping in
Awake in the fullness
Filled with bursting
Tensions breaking
Not an ease but the wrecking
Pulled tight past bearing
Quiescent heart you were my reaping
My need a cold wind against burned skin
A balm and pain on pleasures raging edge.
These little games we say
Bound up
In shadow play
Words caught in mind
Scenes played out
In glances
Scent the air
With raw desire
Hands seconds from each other
Haunt my dreams
Stoke fires higher
Until a glimpse
Spills out
on the page
Wet rush
Sound of leather on skin
The soft crack
A sound stifled
By a bitten lip
Red and ginger
Sitting is the reminder
A void of remember
Just our words on the screen
This once held a video for an artists that turned out to be a predator. This person gave a bad name to the entire BDSM Community and I can no longer support him in any fashion. Really, I stopped supporting him a while ago but now I’m removing him from old posts.
I think I read too much into a like or a comment. I read what is written and fall a bit in love with their words. I read their work and see an amazing person through their words. As a active writer and poet it is a real problem. Is what I am seeing real, is the pattern one with greater meaning? Or am I seeing things because I want to see them? I’ve gotten burned twice. One I walked into with eyes wide open knowing it would never work but wanting it more than sense.
The other I thought was real. Was something that might be something we were both looking for. The world stepped in, circumstances built and it ended, badly for me. I have no idea how she felt about it. Since, she walked away, blocked me out, seemingly without a second thought.
Now, I’m back in it. Seeing things that, maybe, aren’t true. But wanting it, and sort of dreading it at the same time. I have a bad track record.
Raindrops like imperfections in glass
Looking out to faded grey sky
Light and patches drifting
She sits in the car next to me
Relaxed and leaning back
This woman I never talk to
Sharing this time
Always apart
Lacking even the courage to say hello
Or burst this fantasy that she shares this roof because looking at the sky is worth It
Worth the heat and the distance
She’ll exit her car, I’ll watch her walk away
Silent
Listening to summer rain.
It’s as simple or as complicated as we make it. Loving another is always going to be messy. But it is always worth it. Even when it hurts. Even when it feels like your heart has been ripped out. It is always worth it. To cast yourself open into the yawning abyss, hoping their love will catch you. That your love, together, will halt the fall. I don’t know any other way to do it. Not and have it not take years. Ask any of my friends. For all that I am open, I’m a hard man to get to know. My friendships take years to form. And I love every one of my friends. And from most, I would try for a intimate relationship with, if that is what they wanted. I feel I’m rambling now. The point is that love, while painful, is always worth the pain. People create walls around their selves. Trying to keep out every possible hurt. But that keeps out most of everything. I speak from experience. I shut myself off. Turned off all the things that were painful and felt nothing. Blocked behind walls, behind doors, inside a bubble. Trapping myself inside, to protect from the pain.
It didn’t work. All the pain, the sorrow, all of it just built and built until it crushed through my walls. Battered them to pieces. There is no wall high enough or thick enough, no defense built well enough that it cannot be breached. The only choice becomes to deal with it.
Again, I seem to have lost the thread. Love is always worth the time, the pain. I have never been more happy than when expressing love. Never been more at peace than when I am holding someone I love in my arms.
Pelgris 