Day: February 22, 2020
The sea
The perfect sea
The golden dust was upon us,
the warm day made the sea sweeter and more wonderful.
You released your sundress and swirl in a free-fall dance near the sea,
allowed the Pacific caress to cool your feet.
I was captivated by your beauty,
the vibrant colors of the ocean and your hazel eyes.
I told you,
you are the sea and I am just the sand.
You give me a wicket smile,
come to me and
you whispered,
the sea and the sand must meet nightly by the 3 am tide.
Secret meetings of kind lovers,
create great storms and the sweetest lullabies to be written.
Please dance with me for the stars and the moon my lover.
Dancing Coyote
Rekindle
splash some cold water on face
need the senses to be awake
the engulfed dullness needs a rude slap
never ever fall for such depressing traps
pricey time will fade your passion
enough of your drama, time for action
suit up and rekindle your existence
nobody but you are responsible for your absence
let go to move on and rejoice in the presents beauty
admire your efforts by naming self ‘Cutie’
@ Kritika
This write up for me is a splash of cold water today. Igniting the hopeful fire to awaken the dwindling self confidence. A persons life is affected by many external factors which affect the internal working of the body. Unable to figure out the blankness of my mind this time. Hope today is the last day to this minds mysterious distraction.
Implosions
“I would sacrifice everything to see
your smile every minute
for the rest of my life.”
The moment our eyes met, I was lost. The colors in your eyes felt like swimming in a Technicolor kaleidoscope. It was a flood of glittering, sunlit seas in the mid-winter Atlantic. It was spellbinding. And I never wanted to look away. But when I saw that smile spread across your lips, it felt like my world imploded. I would sacrifice everything to see that smile every minute for the rest of our lives.
© Sarah Doughty
2018
It would be worth it
to stay lost at sea forever.
Time Doesn’t Matter – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
Photo: istockphoto.com
“Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.” Victor Hugo
Time Doesn’t Matter
Have you noticed how time doesn’t matter,
which is a truism in itself,
but not if you were hoping for
something better,
that a friendship might have meant more
by its investment of love and time
than a childish rebuttal,
a gainsay,
that bellwether of pettiness
given safe harbour in a corner
of the heart that
one day, it might sail forth
in a leaking untruth
and founder against integrity,
no, time doesn’t matter
when decades are dashed
and all that went before
sinks as if nothing had
ever existed.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
My Paper Mess
My paper mess,
of unfinished drawing, stories and poetry,
cleanses my mind.
poetry copyright neha 2020/ image borrowed from pexels
”There exists, for everyone, a sentence… that has the power to destroy you. Another sentence exists… that could heal you. If you’re lucky you will get…”
There exists, for everyone, a sentence – a series of words – that has the power to destroy you.
Another sentence exists, another series of words, that could heal you. If you’re lucky you will get the second, but you can be certain of getting the first.
Philip K. Dick
The heartstrings…
The heartstrings
She poured the sweet red wine into her Grandparent borrowed wine glasses
with soft and tender hands. Her eyes of river blue looked into my eyes.
He knew she was playing him like a violin. Her gentle and sweet voice create music for his heart. She caressed the heartstrings skillfully making years of disappointment to fade away.
She whispered today we will love like our first day, last night to know love.
Allow the tender embraces of comfort to become yearning, to expand to the freedom
of heart and mind to run wild.
She disrobed and moved to the words of Leonard Cohen song “A thousand kisses deep.”
She whispered to the night. “I wanted to be a dancer, I wanted to be the Poet who whispered words of love to the lonely world.” I watched her perfect body moving to the words of Cohen.
She came to me…
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a secret passed in dying ~
I won’t wait
the evening brush
of clarinet to fiddle –
I won’t deny your leaving
for some other
grace undone
they say
for one
another waits
beyond the rest –
a sweeter sun
yet I have yet to understand
how deep the burn ignites
through it all
a whispered sigh
was a secret passed in dying
dare I wait the coming back –
for the sweet embrace
of light
here –
and I
some other day
will recall the truth
this life betrayed
ten thousand loves –
as trade for one
ten thousand breaths
in flight
. . .
Beautiful Curves – Mystic Land
Your smile cures people.
Source: Beautiful Curves – Mystic Land
The Reluctant Poet 