what a weekend. time for catch up
Day 2-5
sometimes there are no words. only love
suddenly. an unexplainable, visceral chemistry
instantaneous and melodious
it draws us close and holds tight
the ball of crackling energy exchanged fuels a force deeply ingrained
the same magnetism that I soaked up one warm night months ago, kneeling in the rain
it absorbs our spirits,(i'm a sponge for details) transcends body and mind
we are constantly learning, about and from each other
in every lips-touch-wrist, garden kiss, shooting star wish
there is something viciously beautiful and love-lit
(although there is no word in any language or wildest fancy to describe it)
bit by bit, the pieces fall together and by some grace of fate, magically fit
even if we don't understand the source of such a strangely beautiful, rapidly growing sunflower
[[the core of the enigma, the origin of the seed]]
to deny the mystery means to deny the power.
Happily stranded in the unmoving lightning storms of/in one another's minds
every nuance brings an exotic peace-content curiosity
bent on the loss of sense of time
there is nothing redundant, insincere, or cliche about the flawless verbosity
hauntingly captivating, you are..
alarmingly alive.
You are the provocative, mystic winds lifting my soul in flight
the burning gases chasing worlds in the brewing midnight skies
the flashing, sweeping lights that pierce the fragrant October night
christening the precious dark with beacons of bright...
feeling.
Love is a lighthouse.
conventions could only dream of what this is made of and in
the universe thoughtfully contemplated your request-
[[the proof twinkles in the ethereal cold air warming your heart and chilling your skin]]
-and the gnawing awareness that it's shifting for us is it's way of wishing you the best
Hope is desire riding on the breath that dusts the fire from a German chocolate cake,
the unspoken delicacy that straddled the wind and began the journey home.
Homemade red flower wreaths encircle yellow peter pan hats wonderfully
(once again, a perfect fit) and i find myself encircled, likewise, in the oblivion of
your sloe eyes and half smile
Love is a mosaic glittering in spring oblivion's sunshine,
reflecting in fountains of youth.
You are the golden breeze that sweeps through the tousled waves of richly opulent leaf-sprays
and carries me away from something i mistook for home,
surprised to discover, as i fall towards new bountiful horizons,
a splendor unlike anything i have ever known.
Love is the fertility that produces a fruit tree
(flourishing tall and proud with musician-hand branches that breathe ashes into the zephyrs,
giving (re)birth to souls that seek the ultimate liberty)-
Love is the damp earth that forms the walking-path of the road to awe.
Pleasure little treasure.
i surrender, admit
i cannot deny.
the sensations that become me upon waking to that look in your eye
i'm dreaming of repeat
you sink my battleship, bullseye, following suit behind,
a breath for a breath, a pace meant to last and built to match mine
yes, we find each other
whether surreptitiously or effortlessly, it's still every time
Heaven is two muses living in an eternal Eden, feeding one another fresh handpicked apples,
the threat of banishment the last thing from their minds.
(an infinite autumn)
my hands have not been so impeccably fulfilled in ages
peach sticky, pumpkin picking,
reeking of garden, tangled in the inky hair of the gentle beast
joining with companions that hit chords so consummate you could hear the predestined
caressing another's aura- balcony affection feast
wrapping around the chainlinked cage (spelled L I F E)
i am content locked inside, swimming in the dusky, epic oceans of liquid fire (iris-like)
Freedom is swallowing the key,
starting from scratch..the manifestation of a brand new colony,
a personalized live-in Halloween-Christmas village, made explicitly for you and me.
l'arte d'arrangiarsi:
the art of making something out of nothing
(like turning a few simple ingredients into a smorgasbord, a few gathered friends into a festival, or a few small sticks and stones into raging, leaping flames)
you can be my violinist, triumphantly caroling in the just-fallen powder layer
i'll take time away from the ultimate photobooth and bakery
to ice skate with the town's tightless slut shakily
and then bring you home trays of banana bread still hot from the brick oven
we'll ride the haunted ferris wheel, glorious in our heights timidity togetherness
To fall is to .....
if tasting my lips is your communion
then my faith lies in falling,
not organized genocide
your cherubic touch is the divine theology to which i prescribe
and your mouth, immaculate, brushing my skin leaves me a fervent follower,
drifting towards sleep's remembered forgettings amidst prayers at night
if i can remember to breathe,
breathe in the scent you left tangled in my hair.
I'm splitter splattering along the edging of beautiful,
a history, taunting me,
of causing brilliant disasters and insignificant casualties
(so many times fucked up, or maybe it's me who is fucked up)
YET...
somewhere between growing into a woman
(who had sex behind unfamiliar bushes on school nights with boys that called themselves men and were near strangers-lips tasting of cigarette smoke and halfhearted affection)
..i had dreams where I swiftly danced around moonbeams and specklekissed the stars,
and it was me who made them shine, and I cried at their beauty as they soared across the heavens
or, that is,
i fell onto the path. a leaf in your delicious lap, a hope to grasp
yeah, that's right-
You're a dream, my star.
maybe it's you who should be pinching me
if i fell long and hit hard enough
would i slam into your soul?
taste the ecstasy of every complex simplicity
Unadulterated intimate gratification-every part satiation (no man left behind)
be my ongoing interruption.
and the way you shuffle your feet sometimes ...shyly, anxiously, instinctively?
more endlessly thrilling than a cheese-gore plethora (gradeB midnight horror flick, you follow me?)
you watch every move with unequaled fascination
..laughter is never at a loss
but i am.
it's easy to be speechless when, whilst wandering a labyrinth of unimaginable curves
you stumble across a treasure chest
brimming with wonders and every existing thing beyond words
Discovery takes a new name tonight.
i'm crouched beneath a shower of leaves and stars,
arms open wide (in gratitude and surprise)
torrents of atonement
happily licking the wetness from skin suddenly unbroken
simmering in, inhaling, the unequivocal creation only once plainly spoken
and yes, i admit- i often get flustered
when trying to find a comprehensible form of expression, i find only silence
comfortable but clumsy
i will wear the badge with pride, it reads
"stripped of once sought for dignity"
Fulfillment is the sighs of lover's drowning in one another, a drug to live off of,
the indefectible caress
...the one that satisfies contradiction infallibly.
(the simultaneous needs for spontaneity and messy consistency)
My reflection (head miles high in the blue hour candy puff sky) has been altered.
echoes of your radiance stare back at me, non-smugly
it's such a lovely feeling..
to pass a perfect stranger who smiles at you sincerely,
and realize that they are humming, possessing a bare bones sort of happy,
for all the world to see
then suddenly realize they are a splitting image of yourself
or to hear these words
"it has been so long since i have seen you like.. this."
This is telling me that truthful-buoyancy,
so real and pure it is disquieting,
can happen in reality
i'm crossing my fingers and counting up the seconds
but for once, no tracers of cynicism tempt my vision's foresight
i stand, boot clad feet rooted to the earth, triumphant and ready
all hauntings aside,
i am enticed by this integral autumn twilight hayride
and will surf any speed bumps with confident knees
We are covert foliage dwellers, the joy of dark beer consuming park benches,
beloved exploration takes place, hiding beyond country festival blooms
air thick and sweet with addiction, eyes speaking volumes
(indeed-i love old people, but when competing with his soft one dimpled smile,
german polka dancing is for the birds)
besides..
you know how it goes. actions speak louder than words
are you already becoming part of me?
(from bent knees,
rings forgotten on the railing, she asks
will you please?)
synchronized hours and white-fuzzed clothes fall to the floor
unparalleled release in each other, from the first beautifully tentative couch kiss
to the hip alignment shaking my core
fake plastic trees and ghosts of braying donkeys
the moon glows in your mouth
and in the deepest gasp of spirit you're backlit and radiant, a now permanent fixture
you paint me trembling
so, my hands mold the lines of your face and body,
returning the favor justly
and i meant what i said.
while sporadicly devious,
(like an "accidental" cheap wine spill tumbling from a white plastic cup)
You are the most spectacular work of art that even the wildest of dreams have yet to scheme up.
Fruit stand hunting with supreme company, windows down,
wind tangling your hair and psyche into a past-pretty disaster
tiny dancers on lips,
kindred hearts jumping in time
like synchronized swimmers skyrocketing through the rolling waters of life
(pouring onto pages-screens-through the use of unconventional poetry and rhyme)
oh, lionfire,
your demure roar stirs me even in the deepest of sleep
effervescent embers spark the edges of a onceuponatime blank canvas,
ravishing and smoldering
the Phoenix chose that fateful night to remember she had wings
shake off the ashes, re-learn the kinetics and movements of alive
then, reincarnated
fly for the very first time.
For a self-proclaimed, expert procrastinator it's hard enough to study
it's far more difficult when i'm trying to recall and memorize
..each individual propensity and subtlety of your radiance, your body
[and God, you really are stunning]
my mind is racing the tick-tick-tocks, forming meaningful patterns that had yet to exist
whispering dew-strung webs of words my sanity resists;
what more could i do?
(how could i ever be expected to sleep, otherwise-
knowing i have to wait to wake up to you?)
reminder: patience, little tugger
everything worthwhile is meant to be held out for and held between excess
You are the eagerly long awaited, guiltless pleasure and unsullied ecstasy of recess.
(or better yet: You are my Pandemonium)
Day 2-5
sometimes there are no words. only love
suddenly. an unexplainable, visceral chemistry
instantaneous and melodious
it draws us close and holds tight
the ball of crackling energy exchanged fuels a force deeply ingrained
the same magnetism that I soaked up one warm night months ago, kneeling in the rain
it absorbs our spirits,(i'm a sponge for details) transcends body and mind
we are constantly learning, about and from each other
in every lips-touch-wrist, garden kiss, shooting star wish
there is something viciously beautiful and love-lit
(although there is no word in any language or wildest fancy to describe it)
bit by bit, the pieces fall together and by some grace of fate, magically fit
even if we don't understand the source of such a strangely beautiful, rapidly growing sunflower
[[the core of the enigma, the origin of the seed]]
to deny the mystery means to deny the power.
Happily stranded in the unmoving lightning storms of/in one another's minds
every nuance brings an exotic peace-content curiosity
bent on the loss of sense of time
there is nothing redundant, insincere, or cliche about the flawless verbosity
hauntingly captivating, you are..
alarmingly alive.
You are the provocative, mystic winds lifting my soul in flight
the burning gases chasing worlds in the brewing midnight skies
the flashing, sweeping lights that pierce the fragrant October night
christening the precious dark with beacons of bright...
feeling.
Love is a lighthouse.
conventions could only dream of what this is made of and in
the universe thoughtfully contemplated your request-
[[the proof twinkles in the ethereal cold air warming your heart and chilling your skin]]
-and the gnawing awareness that it's shifting for us is it's way of wishing you the best
Hope is desire riding on the breath that dusts the fire from a German chocolate cake,
the unspoken delicacy that straddled the wind and began the journey home.
Homemade red flower wreaths encircle yellow peter pan hats wonderfully
(once again, a perfect fit) and i find myself encircled, likewise, in the oblivion of
your sloe eyes and half smile
Love is a mosaic glittering in spring oblivion's sunshine,
reflecting in fountains of youth.
You are the golden breeze that sweeps through the tousled waves of richly opulent leaf-sprays
and carries me away from something i mistook for home,
surprised to discover, as i fall towards new bountiful horizons,
a splendor unlike anything i have ever known.
Love is the fertility that produces a fruit tree
(flourishing tall and proud with musician-hand branches that breathe ashes into the zephyrs,
giving (re)birth to souls that seek the ultimate liberty)-
Love is the damp earth that forms the walking-path of the road to awe.
Pleasure little treasure.
i surrender, admit
i cannot deny.
the sensations that become me upon waking to that look in your eye
i'm dreaming of repeat
you sink my battleship, bullseye, following suit behind,
a breath for a breath, a pace meant to last and built to match mine
yes, we find each other
whether surreptitiously or effortlessly, it's still every time
Heaven is two muses living in an eternal Eden, feeding one another fresh handpicked apples,
the threat of banishment the last thing from their minds.
(an infinite autumn)
my hands have not been so impeccably fulfilled in ages
peach sticky, pumpkin picking,
reeking of garden, tangled in the inky hair of the gentle beast
joining with companions that hit chords so consummate you could hear the predestined
caressing another's aura- balcony affection feast
wrapping around the chainlinked cage (spelled L I F E)
i am content locked inside, swimming in the dusky, epic oceans of liquid fire (iris-like)
Freedom is swallowing the key,
starting from scratch..the manifestation of a brand new colony,
a personalized live-in Halloween-Christmas village, made explicitly for you and me.
l'arte d'arrangiarsi:
the art of making something out of nothing
(like turning a few simple ingredients into a smorgasbord, a few gathered friends into a festival, or a few small sticks and stones into raging, leaping flames)
you can be my violinist, triumphantly caroling in the just-fallen powder layer
i'll take time away from the ultimate photobooth and bakery
to ice skate with the town's tightless slut shakily
and then bring you home trays of banana bread still hot from the brick oven
we'll ride the haunted ferris wheel, glorious in our heights timidity togetherness
To fall is to .....
if tasting my lips is your communion
then my faith lies in falling,
not organized genocide
your cherubic touch is the divine theology to which i prescribe
and your mouth, immaculate, brushing my skin leaves me a fervent follower,
drifting towards sleep's remembered forgettings amidst prayers at night
if i can remember to breathe,
breathe in the scent you left tangled in my hair.
I'm splitter splattering along the edging of beautiful,
a history, taunting me,
of causing brilliant disasters and insignificant casualties
(so many times fucked up, or maybe it's me who is fucked up)
YET...
somewhere between growing into a woman
(who had sex behind unfamiliar bushes on school nights with boys that called themselves men and were near strangers-lips tasting of cigarette smoke and halfhearted affection)
..i had dreams where I swiftly danced around moonbeams and specklekissed the stars,
and it was me who made them shine, and I cried at their beauty as they soared across the heavens
or, that is,
i fell onto the path. a leaf in your delicious lap, a hope to grasp
yeah, that's right-
You're a dream, my star.
maybe it's you who should be pinching me
if i fell long and hit hard enough
would i slam into your soul?
taste the ecstasy of every complex simplicity
Unadulterated intimate gratification-every part satiation (no man left behind)
be my ongoing interruption.
and the way you shuffle your feet sometimes ...shyly, anxiously, instinctively?
more endlessly thrilling than a cheese-gore plethora (gradeB midnight horror flick, you follow me?)
you watch every move with unequaled fascination
..laughter is never at a loss
but i am.
it's easy to be speechless when, whilst wandering a labyrinth of unimaginable curves
you stumble across a treasure chest
brimming with wonders and every existing thing beyond words
Discovery takes a new name tonight.
i'm crouched beneath a shower of leaves and stars,
arms open wide (in gratitude and surprise)
torrents of atonement
happily licking the wetness from skin suddenly unbroken
simmering in, inhaling, the unequivocal creation only once plainly spoken
and yes, i admit- i often get flustered
when trying to find a comprehensible form of expression, i find only silence
comfortable but clumsy
i will wear the badge with pride, it reads
"stripped of once sought for dignity"
Fulfillment is the sighs of lover's drowning in one another, a drug to live off of,
the indefectible caress
...the one that satisfies contradiction infallibly.
(the simultaneous needs for spontaneity and messy consistency)
My reflection (head miles high in the blue hour candy puff sky) has been altered.
echoes of your radiance stare back at me, non-smugly
it's such a lovely feeling..
to pass a perfect stranger who smiles at you sincerely,
and realize that they are humming, possessing a bare bones sort of happy,
for all the world to see
then suddenly realize they are a splitting image of yourself
or to hear these words
"it has been so long since i have seen you like.. this."
This is telling me that truthful-buoyancy,
so real and pure it is disquieting,
can happen in reality
i'm crossing my fingers and counting up the seconds
but for once, no tracers of cynicism tempt my vision's foresight
i stand, boot clad feet rooted to the earth, triumphant and ready
all hauntings aside,
i am enticed by this integral autumn twilight hayride
and will surf any speed bumps with confident knees
We are covert foliage dwellers, the joy of dark beer consuming park benches,
beloved exploration takes place, hiding beyond country festival blooms
air thick and sweet with addiction, eyes speaking volumes
(indeed-i love old people, but when competing with his soft one dimpled smile,
german polka dancing is for the birds)
besides..
you know how it goes. actions speak louder than words
are you already becoming part of me?
(from bent knees,
rings forgotten on the railing, she asks
will you please?)
synchronized hours and white-fuzzed clothes fall to the floor
unparalleled release in each other, from the first beautifully tentative couch kiss
to the hip alignment shaking my core
and when you taste your own soul on another's lips for the first time
everything is taken to another level
and it's like losing your virginity (but in my case, with a more sublime revel)
I'm sinking deeper into the gorgeously odd background music mixtureeverything is taken to another level
and it's like losing your virginity (but in my case, with a more sublime revel)
fake plastic trees and ghosts of braying donkeys
the moon glows in your mouth
and in the deepest gasp of spirit you're backlit and radiant, a now permanent fixture
you paint me trembling
so, my hands mold the lines of your face and body,
returning the favor justly
and i meant what i said.
while sporadicly devious,
(like an "accidental" cheap wine spill tumbling from a white plastic cup)
You are the most spectacular work of art that even the wildest of dreams have yet to scheme up.
Fruit stand hunting with supreme company, windows down,
wind tangling your hair and psyche into a past-pretty disaster
tiny dancers on lips,
kindred hearts jumping in time
like synchronized swimmers skyrocketing through the rolling waters of life
(pouring onto pages-screens-through the use of unconventional poetry and rhyme)
oh, lionfire,
your demure roar stirs me even in the deepest of sleep
effervescent embers spark the edges of a onceuponatime blank canvas,
ravishing and smoldering
the Phoenix chose that fateful night to remember she had wings
shake off the ashes, re-learn the kinetics and movements of alive
then, reincarnated
fly for the very first time.
For a self-proclaimed, expert procrastinator it's hard enough to study
it's far more difficult when i'm trying to recall and memorize
..each individual propensity and subtlety of your radiance, your body
[and God, you really are stunning]
my mind is racing the tick-tick-tocks, forming meaningful patterns that had yet to exist
whispering dew-strung webs of words my sanity resists;
we float in and out of the conscious humdrum of every day,
spinning in a beautiful display and array of pacification
because of this .... reality just isn't on our side
i am jack's dream-coated smile.
anticipating the REM resplendence you inducespinning in a beautiful display and array of pacification
because of this .... reality just isn't on our side
i am jack's dream-coated smile.
what more could i do?
(how could i ever be expected to sleep, otherwise-
knowing i have to wait to wake up to you?)
reminder: patience, little tugger
everything worthwhile is meant to be held out for and held between excess
You are the eagerly long awaited, guiltless pleasure and unsullied ecstasy of recess.
(or better yet: You are my Pandemonium)
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