We kiss, a dream "We" are made of (laying in my lovers arms) of bitter sweet and shear ecstasy Jagged pill- Truth, the noble entity prophesies, Disaster this love will be
Kiss me quickly! Chasing away this shadow of reality Turn truth to doubt by the closeness of our lips Yet this... this... the fact that lingers... It is not love; it is not lust But calculated affection that binds us yet is it not safer so, is it not enough?...
Originally posted on Sigurlaug S:
Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone—
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee—and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.
The night, tho’ clear, shall frown—
And the stars shall look not down
From their high thrones in the heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given—
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more—like dew-drop from the grass.
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Are you aware of me?
Are you aware of the skin of me
or its content, of body or of soul?
Would you rather look or listen?
How do you perceive me
in audio or vision?
What is it about me that strikes you,
is it the fast spoken sentences that run
like water off my tongue?
Do they make sense to you,
are my opinion appreciated?
Or do you just love my tongue?
Do you prefer to watch lush lips as they make
shape at the O’s and accent of every word?
… please don’t stare too long.
Do you like the sound of my giggly laughter?
Does it fill you heart with glee?
Or is it just the look on my face,
to watch as my bosom heaves at every chuckle?
My head falling back showing my neck
and in that instance your mind and body debate.
What draws you to me, what lures you?
I pray my looks do not overpower my loudity,
Allow it not deceive you,
Hear me and fall in love with me
not my voice alone but the content of me, let
them touch you so whether in lust or in love
should you ever walk away you leave with
me in my verse- Here I will stay forever
perhaps not in your heart but alive in your head…
A Warm aura shapes my soul- It
is faith, yet metaphoric tempests,
the timeless challenge which is “Life”
carries me like a child, or less, a feather
Violent the waves of calamity and tragedy,
Then peace like a river.
Dispersed are my woes for a moment,
Good times- and just when I am home
she topples me again,
At ease and seized all at the same time
So what shall it be today, a smile :) or a frown :( …?
Reminiscing now the chill that day,
Perhaps only internal,
Did winds blow outside? I forget
Gun shots loud speak salutation to a Hearse,
Winter takes form and makes a place within the home,
Cold winds that did freeze and break the heart
Winter in my heart,
Winter to my touch as I bid farewell…
No its not poetry but #Adjustedsails delivers a POWERFUL message here “on NOT raising Rapists”… Enjoy!
Originally posted on adjustedsails:
“Nobody ever says I wanna be a [RAPIST] when I grow up.” I liked those late ’80s commercials stressing the importance of making early anti-drug decisions by choosing NOT to be a drug-user. As a passionate advocate of abuse prevention, I teach my children, and admonish others to teach their children, NOT to be rapists and NOT to be abusers (sexual, physical, emotional, or otherwise). People usually ask, “How? What’s a practical way?” My response: “Explicitly!” We don’t teach our children much else in vague terms. We don’t JUST say, “Mind your manners.” We say, “Don’t put your elbows on the table.” We don’t JUST say, “Respect others’ things.” We say, “Don’t go upstairs without their permission, or don’t run in their home, or don’t jump on their couch.” Well, I’d much rather your son run across my couch than rape my…
View original 479 more words
Those hands and lips that did me much pleasure
That tongue that roamed living me in a state of leisure
You were my drug, my dose of ecstasy
In moments passion I look down upon our bodies
joined as one and I crave this eternity
But is it fate for me?
Is it meant to be?
So says fate
“Nay, only futility
Sure sex is sweet fruit yet as candy too much-too bad for the tooth”
The taste of your juice- mouth, skin and down under
The feel of you, my mind and body shudder-I wonder
could you be my thunder?
If so then I seek for it to Rrrain forever!!!
My avenging angel by Eros sent to subdue my cares
momentarily as we mesh undoubtedly in the bosom of ecstasy
Please make a way for fate to say we are worthy
To lose you would hurt me
What to do with these feelings that corrupt me
Cursed ’cause I’m craving your body
while true love is on the high seas…
O HEAVEN HELP ME!
Yep! its also me right here :)
Blessed day! ;)
Originally posted on What My Preacher Taught Me:
Its been a while and although I have soooomuch material I am yet to publish in this space of mine, I have today a word that was impressed upon my heart and that I would just LOVE to share with you.
I know a lot of us go through the challenge of guilt, the past is never truly forgotten. Lately I have begun a new transition in my faith- No, I’m not becoming a pastor or anything but I have decided for a tighter relationship with my maker. Anyway, it so happens that recently I was basking in the beauty of my renewed relationship with Christ when I let my guilt get the best of me and off I went on a pity party!
“How can I call myself a child of God with all the baggage in my past?”
Why do we do that to ourselves?!…
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Walking in her pretty heels,
Surety in her stride,
unseen pressure points
and pain hidden that
only translate to varicose veins
Life, one big test- a parlay
To the party, initiated at first breath
Trials giving way to testimony, leading
to testament at death.
Her unfolding story is mine
of boulders crashing down
tempests unresting versus the calm
spectator and actor amidst the rise and falls
A tumultuous mind, groaning existence
Stings ease with each silent scream
Suicide- won’t welcome the hand that
suddenly ends the huddles, the runs,
crashes and burns, the rumps, the bumps
and turns- Puddles of mud laying in front,
…So tired of the jump
Her life- a misty mirror with its many cracks
Tears mapping her yesterday
and in that same distance, trails of
“honey-coated” memories- strengthening
here and tomorrow, .
Brighter days just up ahead,
Rays soon to pierce through the gloom-
in hope she spurs on
heart focused on a multicolored dawn
Calm waters, sweet sea breeze, blue skies
wind and sea bird cries
the taste of salt, the feel of sand grains
marking her almost naked skin – “a daydream”
In reality, life’s current rages on,
She’s super girl- “S” on her chest,
taking on the world with music in her steps
In her pretty heels, walking life’s yellow brick road,
They still sting yet her expressions will never show.
Really, every woman is an example to me, because as women we go through so much pain. We have to live this perfect life when we are messed up inside. We all go through trials and tribulations.
Mary J. Blige