Day: July 8, 2018

Breakfast In Bed

~ thereluctantpoet

Come and Savor some Adult fare with – BREAKFAST IN BED

Sulaiman Hafeez

With the first rays of the sun penetrating the horizon,
As the orange light floods in through the window,
From in-between the cracks of the curtain,
As it expels the darkness away,
I feel an unusual weight over me,
Something seems to be weighing me down,
I gently open my eyes with a yawn.

I feel a warm sensation brushing against my skin,
As my blurry vision stabilizes,
As my iris adjusts to bring the world in focus,
I see her sitting over me.

A delicate figure looking down at me,
Wearing only an oversized, unbuttoned shirt,
Her eyes seemingly reflect the early morning rays and her fingers subtly running down my face.

Even as I protest,
She just puts a finger to my lips as I notice an enticing gleam in her eyes.

Bending over slowly,
She touches her lips with mine,
She locks her hands tightly across my…

View original post 354 more words

She danced by the light of the candles’

~ thereluctantpoet

johncoyote

She danced by the light of the candles.

I sat by the bay,
I watched the sun fall into the sea,
I was a street poet of the night,
I wore Army greens in the day.

I was waiting for a poetry reading at Pacific Grove coffee shop at 8 pm. Pacific Groves is the most beautiful city in my journeys. Built on a mountain overseeing the whole coastline of Monterey.You can see forever and you can watch the whales go by if you are lucky in early Spring and late Fall. Monterey is a city full of Poets and Musicians. We gathered 2 to 3 time a week to listen and read poetry. It give us the mojo to keep trying and reaching for dreams. The Musicians have their places. There have open mic that allowed them to play their music and try to attain their dreams.
I’m easy…

View original post 1,036 more words

It Was Tragic..

~ thereluctantpoet

Come and read Rachel Finch’s moving and insightful – IT WAS TRAGIC

Bruised But Not Broken

It was tragic,
the way we clung
to dreams and longings,
the way they smothered
the trauma with labels
and tried to squeeze
our psyche into straightjackets
too small to bound the inner.
It was tragic,
the way we retreated to our
subconscious and made homes
of the fortresses that
housed the ancient but
not forgotten.
It was tragic,
the way we sparked up,
chewed valium to
numb the yesterdays and
mauled at any euphoria
we could claim ours
to soothe the wounds.

Rachel Finch 2018

View original post

Alone

~ thereluctantpoet

Don’t Miss Megha’s post about why we feel – ALONE

Megha's World

elisabetta-foco-241-unsplash.jpg

Looking at the ceiling
lying on my bed
I think,
what makes us feel alone
What makes us feel
so unwanted
like an outcast

Is it the betrayal of the lover?
or
Is the faith broken by
a close friend, a confrere?

Is it the selfish
narcissist society
who wants you to sing their
praises and
lose your sobriety?
or
Is it living with a facade
which makes you feel lonely
lose your serenity?

Is it the false virtues
and broken truth
you are carrying
deep within your hearts?
or
Is it the pretense
of living a life
which is full
yet tearing you apart?

Is it the endless race
to fit inside a cookie cutter?
or
Is the tiredness,
to be a part of this endless grind
like a wheel and a hamster?

What makes you feel alone
will always be a mystery
as you are seeking the company

View original post 14 more words