Sunday, September 25, 2011

She Is A Book



She is a breathing book
each night I touch her pages
delicately turn to find
her heart in letters
written by her hand…

Scent of vanilla
soft and sensuous
unveiling another thought
another smiling memory
another intimate piece of her…

And I read with such abandon
across her pages
my fingers trailing
her soft paper skin…

In her sighs
she speaks of
stories and sonnets
history and fantasy
blue skies and silvery silks…

I hear her voice
in the pages
wanting to know her
every line
every word
every letter…

Now I take her into me
share my book with her
until we know
can read each glance
each whisper
each touch…

She is a book
and I love to read her pages…

Thursday, September 22, 2011

If You Seek Me

You will find me in between the rubble.
You must sift through the tears and the smiles,
cast aside the fears and the trials.
Past the days filled with yearning and the nights with no end

There, I will be; if you seek me.
My mind is pleading for me to say
If you find me will you stay
Will you push away the past
Take my heart and give me yours
Make a promise this will last.

If you can not then let me be
for I have grown accustomed
 to the feel of my company.

Do not cry for me, not a single empty drop
For you are my design
but this will not mark the end of time
Instead shed for those who cannot smile
who cannot face another mile.

For in the end the pain I sustain is a silent solace,
to the recourse of lost lies and bitter cries.

Rejoice in my fate
for my peace is deep
felt like the steeping of tea in warm waters
While others continue to carry the burden of hate
and unforgiven matters.

I release all thoughts, resentments, and caresses
Leaving only the hope of a flame burning steady and bright
It will glow and dance until I am nothing but ashes

My spirit free, body at rest
mind and heart as one.

VML











 

 

Whole

oh!

sorry if I woke you

she says upon discovery of the slumbering silver psyche

yaaaawn
…hey…
what’s a pretty little thing like you
doing way down here?


I have a hole
a hole?

a hole

may I see?

right here

she points to her chest

doesn’t that hurt?

a little

come here
let me look at you


she tiptoes towards him tacitly

darling, you’re bleeding!

yeah, it’s been doing that for a while now
all of my clothes are ruined


he reviews her jagged curves

oh
I thought you were dressed in red
you wear it too well


glassy drops drip over her painted body
weaving glossy trails of existence
mingling with the sticky diluted colour
warm and painted wet

who did this to you?

I did

she shuffles her feet
eyes fall to the floor

dearest, who did this to you?

he moistens a cloud white cloth
as he directs her to the washroom

I did

why would you do such a thing
to yourself?


he begins drawing an ivory bath
with water so clear and sparkling

I wanted to see

see what?

if I could feel

she scratches a fingernail into her arm
revealing a sliver of her milky ghost

do you mind?

he extends his arm
mildly enveloping her dripping hand in his
a last wave of emotion rolls over her
while she steps gingerly into the tub

let’s see what we can do

he smiles with his eyes
winking them into hers

why are you helping me?

because I can
is that alright?


I don’t want to be a burden…

sweetheart, you’re only a burden to yourself

his words sting with burning honesty
she withdraws into herself

close your eyes
I’ll take care of you


she pulls away abruptly
panic flooding her perception

how can I trust you?

here

he removes each piece of clothing
laying them in a gentle heap at his feet

is that better?

he winces as she examines his naked form
suddenly shy in his voluntary exposure
he turns his head in shame

I have a hole too, you know

you wear it well
did you mend it yourself?


yes
many times
I have to sew it every day
with a little bone needle and heart strings


come here
let me look at you


he enters the bathtub and stands facing her
in unison they slip down into the water
sitting with torsos and arms above
legs intertwining below

do you mind?

she begins to pluck at the strings
working them out of his skin
tenderly tugging out his past
passionately pulling out his memories

who did this to you?

I did

she finishes extracting the threads
and leans back in confusion

I know

he smooths the cotton cloth around her tattered tear
streaking out a sterling snowstorm
dying the warm liquid a swirling scarlet
he warily washes off her past
carefully cleanses off her memories

I want to give you something
you can do with it what you want


she watches closely as he
digs his fingers into his chest
leaving the gash gaping
fear invades her taciturnity

how can you trust me?

he nudges open her drooling cavern
and sets his heart in her cage

you found me

he snatches a clean heart string
snaps off a new splintered bone

you saw me

she grips the marble sides
now pink with their leaking ichor

you felt me

he threads the imperfect ivory needle
and presses it lightly into her skin

you heard me

he stitches her closed
sealing it with a kiss

but I’ve nothing for you…
my heart has gone missing!


no it hasn’t

she furrows her brow
new tears
pure tears
escaping

you gave it to me already

he dips her fingers into him

when you woke me

Friday, September 9, 2011

When I was younger I wanted to live in a tree...

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness.

~Kahlil Gibran









Solitude

  
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

                                                                                 Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Vertigo

Mind led body
to the edge of the precipice.
They stared in desire
at the naked abyss.
If you love me, said mind,
take that step into silence.
If you love me, said body,
turn and exist.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Touch Me

Touch me,
it doesn't matter where
and it doesnt matter how
I need to know I'm still alive
so someone touch me now
Shake my hand and say hello
or pat me on the back
kiss me on the cheek
that I may feel this sense I lack
slap my face and pull my hair
make me bleed I just don't care
dig your nails into my skin
so I can feed this need within
I've been numb for such a time
that even pain would be sublime
so touch me, touch me now
i don't care where, I don't care how

by A Thomas Hawkins

Friday, September 2, 2011

Faults




They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before,—
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more.

Sara Teasdale

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine