The Glow of Candlelit EyesAlone in dark decay and dust
on old wallpaper floors
-spark, fizz, hiss-
a scant stick on scorched fingers
the glow exposes shaky shadows
flickering against the soot
Close to the floor, concealed by cloth,
something shimmers twice
Feathers of flame dance on glistening black
wet and shimmering still waters,
They savor the silent sensation
this impassive camaraderie from the
moons in another pair of eyes.
The yawning window welcomes a gust
levitating curtains and hair.
It shatters the moment,
murders the gleam
the swain recoils and
vanishes between the cracks.
EcstasyHeat scorches skin rushingEcstasy4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
color to my face, my
beating heart pounding faster
at the sight of you. I feel
my nerves stretch
strain to keep up with the
rhythm of blood's rushing race.
It simmers my senses,
scalding within me and I'm
sweating quietly inside
You come inches away and I'm
blinded by your vivid
orange sunlight aura
piercing me. I blink
rapidly, cannot breathe
your face draws in,
pressing soft pillows to my mouth...
and your bite is juicy--
--it runs down my chin in mango delights--
tasting like you and
my senses scream in ecstasy
at your tenuous flavor quenching my silly girlish dreams
and catching my musical voice in thrumming vibrations
inside my internal string instruments.
We leave bright orange-red
d r i p d r o p s
trailing behind us on polished floors
--evidences of our displayed careless passion--
to be wiped up in a napkin
and tossed in the trash.
The Memory of MomentsLife passes like a scent drifting on the flowing breezeThe Memory of Moments5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
caressing your senses for an instant
before moving on to wherever we all go.
I hope my gentle touch isn't too brisk
and that the chill doesn't
leave your nose bitten by frost
when I've gone,
but instead I wish to be
comforting coolness on a sunny hillside
to sweep over your moist hot body
and provide relief to you for a time.
And you shall remember those happy times.
I hope that in the memory of me you will recall
the pleasant scent of cinnamon or ginger
mixed with rose petals or lavender
and so every time you walk by that bakery we know
or stroll through our garden
you will think of me
Smile. Because it's a pleasant memory.
I hope you'll not only feel it in the breeze
but also hear me whisper there softly
those most heartfelt words you long to hear
and know I'd say. Know I'm saying.
It's those fleeting moments
that I hope you'll cherish in your mind
and remember me.
A Portrait of A PoetShe spends most days dreaming of beingA Portrait of A Poet4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lightning quick, talented,
and oh, oh-so beautiful
and her days are truly just beginning
As she sits in Science class, writing out
frolicsome metaphors brimming with emotion
her confidence is pining
from deep hurts and a broken heart
yet she finds inspiration most in unhappiness
So she scribbles down painful thoughts
amongst her oblivious classmates,
hoping the words will come
Her skin radiates sunlight, as
Phillipine blood runs in her veins,
and she rests her head in Thailand sunsets.
Her travels have led her to Cambodia-
snapping pictures along the way-
and she sees that the same sunny sky in her own
is reflected in the eyes of those strangers
she has found
oh, oh-so beautiful.
Her words jump out
in bright and vivid colors
leaving her fingerprints on your heartstrings.
Picture of DeathIt's so coldPicture of Death5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bare pale feet rest
on solid stone earth
Plain gray dress
shifts slightly in the breeze
Pale glassy eyes
cold as slate
A raspy gasp
stolen from her chalky lips
shatters the silence
Her breathe forms a plume
in the wintry air
It rises above her head
a fountain of steam
connecting her frigid form
to the gray sky
Black tresses swirl around her
Her eyes close coldly
and she falls
graceful as a bird
plummeting to silence
Just Love"Why do you love me?"Just Love5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I'd asked this question countless of times before, but never seemed to understand the answer. The answer was always different, yet it was never solid and never was reason enough for me. Things like, "because you're beautiful" or "because you're a great mother" or the infamous "because you love me." They all seemed obvious. Still not good enough reasons to me. The reason for my disbelief was given in his answer this time.
"I don't know."
At first I didn't know how to respond. I could have been offended. But I wasn't. Then he continued.
"Probably for the same reason you love me."
Suddenly it made sense why I kept asking the question. I was feigning humility, wishing to know the answer not just to understand him, but to understand myself. I needed ideas to come up with my own reasons for loving him.
"I don't know either."
We sat in silence then,