That secret.
That wild
dark, erotic
sexual fantasy.
The one you conceal
from everyone.
The one you hide
from yourself.
That secret.
That secret
is what attracts me
like a magnet
compels me
like a drug
draws me
moth to flame
makes me yearn
for you
to release it
just for me.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Written a couple of years ago. I like it, so another airing. And because you have a secret.
Art by William Oxer
unstring your lyres
and break the flutes
set the drums aside
silence now your music
for the poet, he has died
listen not to muses
nor to their soulful cries
all their songs
dead on the breeze
now that the poet died.
he looked to the skies
not in worship of the gods
but to curse their names
he looked to the skies
not in worship of the gods
but to curse their names
oh! what vocation, poetry
should leaves remain upon a tree?
and what tales would balladeers bring
if nightingales refused to sing?
there are no candles
just the dead eyes of strangers
reflecting the lights
Today’s Word of the day is Naturally.
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“Hope sleeps in our bones like a bear waiting for spring to rise and walk.” Marge Piercy
But Of Birthing Have you ever noticed a chrysalis evolve, or seen a chicken lay an egg or watched a woman give birth, surely that is precious and privileged in the nature of things, the mystery of life at its most raw, a beautiful exposure of vulnerability pure, but of birthing, what is said of the inner, what is being birthed within me, through me, what transforms, what grows, as I navigate this amazing world? Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Your DAILY MESSAGE from Angels
BE GRATEFUL for HAVING HEALTHY TEETH!
We love you
Sounds wonderful, Angels!!!
The Reluctant Poet 