Just A Look

“Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand. WILLIAM CONGREVE, Love for Love

The plainest man who pays attention to women, will sometimes succeed as well as the handsomest man who does not.” – CHARLES CALEB COLTON, Lacon

 

mvninn
The attentions of a woman make me feel alive and vibrant with power. Like a crashing wave, her look and positive glance wash over my life leave me with a feeling of satisfaction. What curse am I under? The power in her movement captivates me and stops my whole world to see her for a moment on the miraculous hinge of change, all it takes is her reaction. If she likes me, pays me some attention, then peace and excitement in abundance. If she turns away, her rejection ignites a fire, inciting a riot of feelings in my body. Though heaven call and hell reach, nothing matters but her at that moment. There’s no end to the amazing things that I’ll put my body and mind through to see her smile. Not just a special her, but the one that has stopped my heart from proceeding with its mundane tasks. Dropped to my knees, not by an amazing model, rare and fleeting, but by that woman who holds herself with such confidence and sexuality that I find a smell of desire wafting across the room to bring me to my knees. I’ve stumbled down the steep paths of self-esteem, yet to know she’s there, watching with interest, gives me the most incredible lift. This hawk takes to an empowering thermal desire and rises to heights unreachable when you, sweet woman, give me your smile.

01242013

Have you ever felt it? – Simple things, simply love

 “The road to finding ‘the one’ is paved with a bit of promiscuity.” – Ryan Erickson

redbubble
Have you ever felt it?
I spent hours taking the little sunburned petals from your skin,
removing them ever so carefully, tenderly,
utterly in heaven, a heaven which surely,
the birds are familiar…
Have you ever felt it?
I lose myself in thoughts of you, and me, together
in a slow dance that walks us through the gates of fantasy
all our senses lost in the moment, hearts racing,
minds panting to keep up.
Have you ever felt it?
Bodies moving together, souls floating,
passion shared, in the heat forming a bond
that can never be broken, though you my lover
are very, very far away.
Have you ever felt it?

11192011

 

A Lesson From Missing You –

“…she has the ability to hide as expertly as a sock in a washing machine. No one knows where it goes, just as no one knows where she goes, but at least when she decides to come back, we’re all here, waiting for her.” – Cecelia Ahern

 

Breathing in and with each rasping dry inhale I’m missing you
It burns down to the hollow of my soul.
Memories they flood in, a confusing mix. I thought I missed just you,
but I miss the many that are a part of me.
Each having a part to play, each having a part in me,
each deserving of my attention.
What will I do with these feelings? I shouldn’t,
long after only you.
I should enjoy the many
that have become a part in my life.
How can I miss only you and leave out the others
who have a part to play?
I must move on, pay my respects, but in the end
I know you’re only a part.
There yet remains a whole to be built from my life,
a whole song, a whole book,
not just a verse, or a chapter.
In this moment, I’ll breath a painful breath that it may give me
a lesson from missing you. 

Also published in Lifeasahuman

Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinionsofeye.com
02172012

 

Good Morning – A royal awakening for a lover –

“I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came…and I was awakened.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Awakened

Alas, she wakens with breath so sweet that all words long to be formed by her delicious lips. What better way to both live and die than in the mouth of one so delectable…soon I’ll follow them into your caves of pleasure…I find all paths of your perfumed delight leading to home….

I know what will take you from the nether regions of rest my love, I need but spend an hour with your body that responds with eagerness against my flicks of hunger and your passion will run on this beard, while your legs struggle to support the reality that you have not gone to heaven yet, you only visited there by my invitation…
*
First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

The Dust – Apathy exposes your cracks

“Even when I try to stir myself up, I just get irritated because I can’t make anything come out. And in the middle of the night I lie here thinking about all this. If I don’t get back on track somehow, I’m dead, that’s the sense I get. 
There isn’t a single strong emotion inside me.” ― Banana Yoshimoto
 

 

 

You see beauty everywhere, your supposed to be happy. Your not.
You see people laughing, your supposed to be a part. Your not.
You see tears falling, your supposed to feel. Your not.
You see beauty everywhere, your supposed to be happy. Your not.
You see people laughing, your supposed to be a part. Your not.
You see prayers offered, your suppose to do that. Your not.
You see tears falling, your supposed to feel. Your not.
You see life passing, your supposed to do something. Your not.
And worst of all, you just don’t care. I mean you really, really, don’t care. About anything.
It’s death you feel in every little crack of your soul.
Like dust collecting, this death accumulates in the small areas of your life.
But wait you walking dead! Be encouraged!
There’s life again, a spring cleaning as it were, rising from the dust of death in your life.
You must quiet yourself and stop running to the next thing that will numb you.
You must quiet yourself and wait to hear the voice of your maker calling after you.
You must quiet yourself and pray to the one who has the love that will make you whole.
I’ve felt the death that living life can bring, and I’ve felt the arms of my Father,

Those arms have made me strong enough to live and be safe from the dust.

 

Also published in Broowaha Magazine
01082011

Timid Creature – Peace hides in circumstances

“Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.”
Albert Einstein

Peace, your a timid creature.

I want to hold you, but, 
as soon as I reach for you,
you disappear, 
darting behind circumstances.
I can hear you moving, 
never seeing you for long.
In the end, 
I must let you come to me,
resting by my side, 
as I rest by yours. 





12082011




Tear Drop

“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer…and everything collapses. ” – Colette
atriptomywonderland
I’ll never be without them, they follow me everywhere, when I feel their finally gone, with vengeance they find me again, forcing themselves on me, insisting that I acknowledge them. I scarcely can resist their efforts, so enduring and persistent they’ve become. I give them place, being preeminent in my existence, being associated always with me, my companions, never to leave. I entertain them now, with some resistance, allowing them to have their way with me, to work me into submission. As I give way to them, I stand back, in my mind wondering, perhaps this is the way I must go, to walk with them and be taught by them; it’s a hard way. When joy is born, quickly they are taken from me, teasing me by allowing me to feel a moment’s respite. I go on now, taking them with me, forgive me if leave a few of them on your shoulder

also published in Broowaha

12082011 

Blossom – Rebirth of a lover

What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.” 
“A fallen blossom
returning to the bough, I thought –But no, a butterfly.” 

crazyformusic

Lightness, adrift but within my grasp always. 
Your like the blossoms of a tree, brushed off by the wind, 
yet still you belong to me, 
though we are apart. 
We are intertwined souls, mated by nature and God. 
Soon I shall lift you back up, 
from my roots you will be reborn 
to forever be one with me.
Your my bloom my love, this tree will always sustain you. 
I long for you to be on my branches once again, 
the whole of nature in agreement with the union. 
Oh how naked am I, my lover! 
How my branches sway at the sight of you! 
Come clothe me with your fragrant beauty, 
and let us be whole again!


08042011

Back to Love Again

“I would like to fall in love again but my only hope is that love doesn’t happen to me so often after this. I don’t want to get so used to falling in love that i get curious to experience something more extreme – whatever that may be.”
 
 
 

I loved someone with a genuine love. It was not returned to me and in fact, I was spurned. I turned away, saddened by my gullibility at having opened up like I did. After a time of mulling on the lost love, I realized, I still loved that person and by having that love, I discovered things about myself that were lost to me before. I learned to dance, and, I found my gift of music that was lost for many years. So then, I ask myself, “should I look on this as a bad thing?” I say, NO! I am richer for having loved than holding myself back. Loving brings to us, the person doing the loving, an immense benefit, we are becoming like God. An old man writing about God said, “God is Love.” That being the case, if we have truly loved, we have had the opportunity to be like God. Having this experience you’ll realize that it takes a lot out of you to give true love. In doing that we return to the source, to God, who will fill us with the strength to love again and heal us from our misadventures. Don’t be afraid to love again, in this you will find meaning in life and experience your greatest purpose, to be an imitator of God.

Also published in: Broowaha
12132010

Death Of Our Seed – Death throes of love

The flowers anew, returning seasons bring! 
But beauty faded has no second spring.
Ambrose Philips
Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking.” – Kahlil Gibran

Image Credit: altitudinarian

I wander, looking, not feeling. Experiencing but remembering nothing. The taste is gone, bland are the fire scorched courses of your love. I wander around the echoing rooms of passions castle, like a spider hunting in the sedentary atmosphere, catching my supply and watching the inactivity with many points of view. My meandering desire leads me to other lands; stepping on the thorns of my morality, my feet are hesitant to find the new, knowing it violates the old. Satisfaction, though fleeting, is found in errant trysts. Excuses are easy to make when I am dilapidated; rotten and broken like the old planks in the floor. Shoving the rusted door of our haven, the hinges squeal in loud eery cries, giving up their life in broken protest; they can no longer bear the lack of attention. Revelations are born in tense moments, your eyes meet mine and the truth wants to be spoken, yet remains hidden; these are haunting times. Lovers find it hard to pull the trap door on the hangman’s rig; to see their intimacy in death throes, struggling at the end of the rope of boredom. The sun rises, a strong wind blows, a storm is coming; it hits hard and washes away the mementos of years, bringing relief. Nature does what I loath to do, destroying the useless and dangling appendages of a dead love, giving birth to hope on the dry and barren paths. In this newness I linger, amazed at what comes from the death of love; like the death of a seed, it breaks the hardened ground with fingers of new passion, restoring my faith and blinding me again with lust unconfined and unexplored.

Also published in Broowaha Citizen Magazine