Sunday, November 24, 2013

Without question


Intent without question

 

you make me ache

 

Crafted care

 

diligence to result

 

A fine specimen of woman

 

chiseled and making me hard

 

 I want with a fierce desire

 

I want without guilt or shame

 

I know it might seem shallow

 

but you know the depth of the ache

 

You feed me pieces, traces

 

knowing the fire that stirs

 

For that I thank you

 

and in reverence

 

I rise

 

with a need that must be heard~
 
 
~for my muse~

Friday, November 22, 2013

Intent, A Waltz


~for my muse~
 
 
 
 

 

back up for a moment

to the beginning of the song

the part where the metronome

started to tick

setting the pace and tone

announcing, instruments raised

signaling the need

to state intent

the intent was to waltz

in closed position

the gliding slide

clasped within embrace

where faces touch

designed to turn

to spin on an axis

around the whole of this space

gliding around the floor in the moment

the heat, the connection

a break from the minuet

and its small steps

the question of the formality

of the staunch and stated rules

was why noblemen slipped away

to servant’s balls

once considered

riotous and indecent

it was the expression

of two joined as one

the Hesitation waltz

where the is a pause

in the middle of movement

one step falls behind

the Scandinavian waltz

though fast or slow

but the rotating spin and twirl

never stops

the point is not whether

you know this piece of music

the question is only

did you come here to dance?

 

 

 

 

The vigorous peasant dancer, following an instinctive knowledge of the weight of fall, utilizes his surplus energy to press all his strength into the proper beat of the measure, thus intensifying his personal enjoyment in dancing".   Kunz Haas

 

Thursday, November 21, 2013

~Succumb~






she stood before me at her full height

where I lay bound by her hand on the floor

she smiled as she looked down at me

there, at her mercy, if she chose

she commanded, eyes forward

knowing the ache that went through me

to see her exposed skin

perched loftily atop razor sharp

five inch spikes

in reverence I gazed up at her

knowing full well that to defy her

might bring that spike to land

directly in the center of my chest

and prostrate on the floor

I would pay handsomely

for riding the wrecking ball

across the elegance of this room

she arched her back slowly

knowing what it does to me

to see her in that pose

as she has allowed me there before

I have seen her head thrown back

and listened to her moan

at my touch

at my thrust deep into her

today though, she shows me no mercy

this is only the beginning

and, I, bound before her unable to move

have no choice but to succumb
 
~for my muse~

 
 

 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

In Preparation


gauging time by moments

clocking time in years

celebrations of life

anniversary songs

adding up the hours

and counting down to the time

that in two ways embody

the very first breath of life

the day that I became

that I inhaled

the day that with a cry

I greeted life

in few short hours

the day will come to be

and I will celebrate this milestone

forty five years

the day will come and go like any other

with very little pomp and circumstance

my favorite way to spend that day

is sitting by my sea

staring into her depths

while she sings me songs

this year I am far away from her

and time for contemplation

is very thin

but the day still comes in vain almost

laughing slyly under breath

forty five! my god, it’s come so fast

the second celebration

is more of a rebirth

the claiming of a life

that had slipped away

on the sunrise of my thirtieth year

I knelt at the edge of that sea

and surrendered to her

the poison that was killing me

I stood up and walked away

head held high

feeling life flow

like the blood through my veins

to be born twice

on a single calendar day

is a gift to revere

something to behold

I will close my eyes

in blowing out the candle

and instead of wishing

be thankful for all that I am
 
 
 

Friday, November 15, 2013

Excerpts 8

 
 
Another in the series of writing from dreams. Not sure this one had a message but it was more than pleasant...
 
 
 
 
It was a vast room with marble floors. There were heavy velvet curtains hanging over the windows to keep out the winter chill. In the corner of the room, a string quartet, playing by ear. They wore blindfolds for our privacy.

You were elegant in something white and flowing, a light linen that revealed your lines and curves. You lead me across the floor as if my feet did not touch the ground. Strong arms wrapped around me, reassuring, guiding. The music moved in waves and we followed it flawlessly. It began to slow and you paused midstep and pulled me closer, kissing me with a heat that filled the room. You laid me down on the marble floor and as the music changed, pace becoming steady and driven, you became the song. My cries became the lyric, as your hands conducted a symphony. ..

I awoke covered in sweat, muscles still recovering from the release.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Education


In three days’ time I will feel you more deeply

a flood in me will violently unleash

Desire unbound will drive me to distraction

I’m not so sure I can take much more than this

Awakened and layers being peeled away

education in the finer arts

I, the student, feeling as if I know nothing

clumsy, unsettled, yet craving ever more

We talked of mirrors and being seen in them

the reflection of oneself in someone’s eye

How that sight can make one suddenly run

the illusion of themselves to clear to see

I feel the depth of that mirror in my soul

that the way I see myself has suddenly changed

That I have been exposed in all my need

and naked I am fighting this desperate need to bolt

Bolt away or bolt the door, no matter

the end result the same, safely away

From the eye with the dead set stare

that looks upon and in to me

Unwavering and level

even as I writhe in pain

I am raw with want for you

I ache for your attentions on me

I cannot cover the desire

in the crafting of words and poetry

You are far to skilled and far too strong

for me to play the role

That I have always played

that I was the one who was strong

To never have been in a place that was safe

to readily let down the guard

To admit to hurt, to wanting

I do not know how to feel

The intensity of these things

and so I’ve cut them out

With sharpened blades on darkened nights

to make them go away

The scars like badges of honor

that I hoped would speak for themselves

But the questions never came

and still the scars remain

You, this stranger, thousands of miles

a million lifetimes away

Saw the scars I’d hidden

and have begun to call them by name.

Leaving hints and clues

opening long closed doors

Now that they have heard their names

they have learned they also have voice

They whispered only briefly

as instantly they were heard

And reassured by a guiding hand

that they need not know the words

To speak slowly yet freely

but now they are starting to scream

You smile at this, I know

but it scares the life out of me

I’m losing control of my control

and you tell me this is alright

So badly torn between the longing to feel

and letting that need expose all of me

 

 
~for my muse~

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Opening Doors


Life is a terribly interesting creature

like a woman filled with intricacies unknown.

Dazzled by her daily I lose my place

forgetting where I am supposed to be.

Of late I have been taken with desire

with want with need, an ache that brings a smile.

But life, like a mother slapped my hand

and told me not to get too lost in it.

She shook me by the shoulders

she said, “caution keeps you safe.”

I answered her with,

‘caution breeds contempt”.

But life she sent me twist and turns

and bumps upon the road.

She had to play her hand

to keep her place upon the throne.

I’ll listen to her for now

as I have no choice.

I can eagerly run

but what good would that do.

I could keep the pace and wear the smile

and keep my tongue in my mouth.

But I did that for years

and it effectively broke me in two.

Fractured, still, in places

I tend to react with force.

With predisposed judgment

of what may come.

It’s a learned behavior

a coping mechanism.

Though I’m starting to feel

a bit like Pavlov’s dog.

Taken to reacting to cues

that either give or deny.

Responding to pleasure

only when from the outside.

I want to learn to feel the joy

in feeling awake and alive.

I want to be free to live it

in the entirety of what it is.

I want to learn how

not to question, to doubt.

And to safely live

in the wake of both of those things.

I wanted to want her madly

and nothing in that has changed.

But have I lost the chance in the

caution I could not throw to the wind.

If I was meant to live this

not just feel it for a time.

She will see me through

the veil of the things that I fight.

If she was meant to feel me

and all that I have to give.

Then the door is unlocked

and she is welcome to come in~

 

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

I burn ~ for you

 
 
The twist and curl of the flame
dances wildly within my soul
Beating down barriers
with a solid and steady drum
Heating the air and singeing my skin
with a delicate yet powerful kiss
Tempting with the flicker and flutter
distracting my eye’s gaze
Listen to the rhythm and thunder
of the beat that has laid itself down
Your feet at the base of this fire
toes already beginning to burn
Wax begins to drip
from candles placed in a circle
Touch it, it will leave a mark
proving this was real
Wood splintering, cracking
in a cacophony of pops and snaps
A bit like a fireworks show
lighting up the sky
Stare into the flame
and be hypnotized by the dance
As the flames curl up and around
everything they touch
Drawn to the heat, to the color of fire
drawn to the rhythmic sounds
Slowly inhaling the scent of smoke
the smell as nature burns
Everything peripheral invisible
as I stare at the heart of the flame
The darkness now a shadow
only memories remain
Reminiscent echoes
silenced by the roaring fire
Unable to draw away from the heat
the air is far too cold
So deeply drawn and warmly held
into this cocoon of heat
My body sweats, my breath comes quick
the flames engulfing me~
 
 
 
 
Photo credit to Stu at:  http://iseedeadpixels23.tumblr.com/