Her Shadow

I have always ‘seen’ things, ‘felt’ things, ‘known’ things. I see them in the trees as dusk settles on the day. I see them in flashes as I turn my head. I hear voices that wake me from sleep. I spend a lot of time lying awake at night as some thing, some unknown presence needs me to know it is there. I have to turn on lights, most of the time, as for some reason, that presence does not seem to comfort me.

One particular night, I was deep in sleep, when my doorbell rang. It was late, middle of the night, and scared me as I had recently moved and didn’t know anyone here. I went downstairs and looked through the peephole in my door. I saw the shadow of a blonde woman, head tipped forward. She looked remarkably like someone I know but it was an impossibility that she would be standing there. I yelled out, “who is it?”. No answer. I asked again. Still nothing. I moved to the window, and saw no one. I went back to the door and threw it open. No one was there.

shadows love to tease

spring night becomes cold

and then still again

*written for dversepoets.com

Haibun Monday - The Shadow Knows

trying to become

when the challenge is

not to become

a thing again

fighting within the walls

of a carefully guarded self

trapped within the battle lines

of a war won and lost

this road seems familiar

I’ve walked its rutted trail

my feet they know the path

as if by name

but distance seems to flex

like the hands of a clock spin

and the future stretches out

beyond the scope of my sight

seeing signs along the road

places to pause and rest

forks that will change that path

and lead me astray

those are the paths I know

the ones I’ve walked before

but focus and centered sight

must light my way

darkness falls and skies of grey

the rainclouds and thunderous boom

I’m quite sure no one has melted

in the falling rain

so onward and forward

one foot, then the next

passing roadblocks and signposts

the scenery will change

CHEQUERED DANCE

this Sex,

played out on chequered squares

each knowing their roles

the King,

directing the movement

of every playing piece

the Knight,

one step up and two to the side

dancing in the shape of an L

leaping over the others

and removing them from the game

the Bishop,

flanking the King and Queen

keeping them safe from harm

able to move in any direction

as long as nothing obstructs their path

the Rook(ie),

stands at the Knight’s side

and moves with the rank and file

the only possible obstruction

encountering one of their own

the Pawns,

there have been so many

moving one ‘en passant’

while moving the length of the board

they can become someone else

the Queen,

the most powerful player

no limit to the steps she takes

her absence does not stop the game

but without her, your advantage fails

this Game,

so what is the purpose?

to remove the opposing King

to move each and all in tandem

your strategy prevails

yet what

if the lines on the board erased

and you saw yourself as the other King

would you want your army so predictably

trying to keep you safe~

20%...ppfft

In the end…

what?

Is faith your divining rod

when faith is only relative to experience

Is belief your faith

and by what gauge do you measure its size

Is trust your peace

or have you been broken beyond repair

Is peace a thing

that can ever be achieved

You only consume some portion

of what they tell you

And you only digest 

a smaller portion of that

Nothing truly fills 

or feeds you

And the search for more

becomes that divining rod

Starving you are

yet this is all they surrender

Regurgitated facts

numbers on a page

Pushing the plate back

across the empty table

Rising from your chair 

and walking away

The bitter taste 

lingers on your tongue

While the aching hunger inside

continues to burn

Driving you on 

in search of decadent bliss

Sweet and savory

perhaps even sustenance

Sitting down to the bounty 

of a gourmet table

Licking your lips

as your mouth comes to life

Aching to taste 

the pleasures at the tips of your fingers

Something tangible 

not faith

not belief

you are alive~

~ for my muse ~

through this day

reaching deep into this quiet

as the day around me screams

listening hard for the sound of you

the breath, the beating heart

feeling distance stretching

long and much too far

the need, the want, the ache

overwhelming me

I know that you are with me

connected through woven webs

yet today I feel trapped

dangling by a thread

I can hear your voice inside me

that musical sing song sound

curling up the side of my neck

calming unsettled nerves

I can feel your touch in my memory

the hard and soft of you

you have carved your name upon me

your absence today I feel

my hands are empty and fumbling

my footsteps waver and quake

unsteady and unbalanced

I am not myself today

close my eyes, deeply breathe

find my way back into you

my body moves with grace and ease

as we become one again

Lovesick Musings

I feel it like blood

coursing through my veins

Filling me

and bringing me back to life

I feel it like a thing

that I cannot explain

Yet it leaves words

dangling from my tongue

I feel it like breath

as it fills my lungs

Steadily in

and slowly out

I feel it, I feel it

and isn’t that the thing

I feel it

my God, I feel!

 

It seems that I have loved her forever

though time plays tricks on the mind

I vaguely remember a time before

when emptiness filled this room

She is ever present within me

whether here or miles away

My voice breaks the silence

she hears what I don’t say

The simplicity of all of this

complicates things even more

But still I find solace

surrender, and let myself fall

 

She makes me ache

in the sweetest way

And conversely

makes me sting

Awakening

a long dead soul

We are both

alive again

 

In the soft quiet hours

when she comes

She is ‘becoming’

just like me

No one has ever

seen this, she says

But for me

she reveals everything

Drunk On Me

gasping breath and exhale

she moans with wanton lust

pulling me aurally

with her along this trail

her voice is like a finger

stretched and curling, calling me

reaching deep inside

as my own fingers trace the path

who is it, deep within you?

tell me who you feel

only you...only you

and then she lets go

both of us deeply rapt

and writhing together as one

as the waves crash upon us

and leave us dripping wet

the moan, the gasp, the squeal, the sigh

over and over again

then slowly panting breath

slows its heaving pace

soft words exchanged

lips tangled as one

smiles and silly words

as heads continue to spin

her speech begins to slur

syllables hard to discern

in the wake of consuming me

she sounds as if she’s drunk

tossing back another

her lips becoming numb

her voice takes on a velvet tone

and she wraps me in her words

soft and warm and floating

her tongue now tickling me

with a dizzying lilt and inflection

she is drunk on me

 

 

~for my muse~