take away my voice
steal away the page
ease every line
where I remain –
a pause before beginning
let me suffer you to rhyme
verses bent together
sweet refrain
wipe away
these tears –
where I’ve confessed
misery
a lifetime scored
in letters curled
against each line
I beg you come
in search of me
. . .
Enjoy the words and the Song Too!
Yesterday…
I am in the Fall of a life. Death whispered in my ears now. Old heart and my tire soul seem to need and want less. Maybe I have given-in, given-up. Once I had everything. Had long Summer days, I had the sea and I tempted love.
I read Salinger and Hemingway now. I am seeking Salinger silence and learning Hemingway thoughts. Salinger saw death and war, he sought private place. He couldn’t hide from the violence and blood. He taught me. Write for yourself. Hemingway taught me. Great words are rarely appreciated. Live hard and don’t complain.
Yesterday when I was young and fearless. I consumed life and today. The old man sits at Lake St. Clair. Observe life and hold on to his last breathe for his grandchildren.
I wonder if I did more, if I did less? Maybe.
I would know more kindness and less anger…
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My every fantasy, made real, by your fingertips.
Warmth radiating from my core.
The flames are too hot,
But the pain of it is too cold.
Is this desire?
I can see the diamonds begin to glitter, in the dusky rose sky, through my window.
The day is turning to night right before my eyes.
I look back at it and the image of you kneeling, looking up at me, with those eyes,
Is seared into my brain.
Is this lust?
Your dark voice trails down my flesh,
Like whispers through the evening trees.
Goosebumps erupt along my skin, and
Butterflies fly in frenzied chaos in my belly, when you breathe me in.
Is this love?
Wild and ferocious,
Your soft touches roam all over uncharted planes.
I lift up your chin, to kiss your practiced mouth.
Your tongue tastes like sweet peaches in the summer heat, warm and delicious.
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I create worlds,
From my pain.
Honeyed words,
From my passion.
Dark thoughts,
To erase my demons.
I write poetry,
To find what
I lost.
Noise
Without a sound
A silent din
Ringing loudly
Drowning me
In obscure thoughts
Mangled
Between reality
And imagination
Torn between
Here and then
With no ground
On which to plant my feet
I float
In an aura
Of uninspiring glow
Quickly fading
Into darkness
Ebony night
Pale against my skin
The moon
New
Sheds no light
Yet
I seek it
Dare to emerge
Eyes open
Only to be blinded
By ignorance, arrogance
And the loss of humanity
©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
Your DAILY MESSAGE from Angels
This WORLD is GRATEFUL for YOUR PRESENCE!
We love you
Shucks, Angels!!!
Senryu Time alone to think Can bring clarity and light to troubles you bear Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing
Source: Daily Haiku – Fri. March 19, 2021 – Poetry For Healing
Can you feel
my eyes
on your body
like a caress
my desire
touching your skin
like a thousand
kisses?
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Oxer
“I wonder how I managed to find you.
How all the pieces of the puzzle
that was made of us came together.”
At the ending of everything, I often wonder what would have happened if there was a continuation. I wonder what the trees would whisper late into the night when the moon hits its apex. I wonder what the rain would wash away if it only kept going for another day. I wonder how I managed to find you. At that moment. In that room. How all the pieces fell into place like they were pieces of a puzzle that was made of us. And sometimes, I wonder if this constant state of feeling like I’m at the edge of oblivion will finally come to an end. Would that deep abyss cease to exist? Or would I be able to tell my feet to slowly back away from the…
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Robert Tew
The Reluctant Poet 