Take, Oh, Take Those Lips Away

Poem inspired by the title of John Fletcher’s poetic masterpiece; “Take, oh, take those lips away.”

In the realm of you, my dappled sky is moonless,
fringed with fire
and deep-seated in platitude–
the clouds
that promise rain are pensively deep, equipping me
with the clarity I need,

and I wonder
if your crystal clues of truth are identical–
I am core shaken, captivated
and at sixes and sevens, my glitter-stained
tangled roots
disappearing
into a twisted earthen forest pathway,
where a canary whispers your name— soft and easy.

In my mind, the sense of you is something behind
a tinted window,
part apparition, part firelight
you just might be the safest, most dangerous thing
I have ever done–

your eyes filled with oceans crashing,
tracing poetry along corner of lips where words are left
unspoken–

I feel myself drawn to sweet gravitational pull,
with solitude circling my ankles.
No cages.
I cannot imagine … a more exquisite imprisonment.

 

 

Photo credits: Antonio Mora Portraits, Pinterest

In response to Kerry says; “Lets find our poetic voice,” and “Skylover Wordlist.” ❤️

Posted for Play It Again: Grand Finale @ Real Toads

Posted on ‘The Writer’s Pantry’ @ Poets and Storytellers United

A point outside the glittering current, when mind moves in more places than one

This flesh is mine, it has bled, and shed
remnants of lies
saccharine– under a sky
surrounded by convalescing breath,
the world I see before me is made of shadows
with teeth,
as my heart attempts to piece together what stones
have buried– the tree bark howling out the tales
you have told.
I walk down a trialed path while insides burn,
as roses black
break out from a blinding daze– with Jupiter in a bottle
and eternity of stars raging in my soul.

 

Photo credits: Thomas Saliot, Pinterest

Poem inspired by “The Handflower,” by Kerry O’Connor and “Stones,” by Bruce Springsteen ❤️

Posted for ‘Music With Marian’ @ Real Toads

also posted on Pantry of Poetry and Prose @ Poets United

Fragments of an era lost in the mists of time

Night was elongation of berry-red urge
and desire,
carrying your words like wisps of clouds–
I watch as they mouth your name
and paint
every emotion that has ever erupted within me
in raisin black.
I have been halved and cored,
held on to every thought
as you kiss my lips
while they retort–

my torment is one of freckles upon blood oranges,
their vital force
pulled apart
so that cloying would last; would last.

 

 

Photo credits: Thomas Saliot, Pinterest

“I have been halved and cored,” from Perennial by Kerry O’ Conner ❤️

Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge: 13 Poetic bits of kerry @ Real Toads

Rise, oh my soul, with your desire and longing to Eden

Oh! a kiss plucked out from the dark seed,
impregnable and one that blooms only in tangent.

True love whose fire by far burns brightest,
is often much like finding a needle in a haystack.

Your presence curls around me, thick as smoke
encircling in deliciously dark indecision.

Stay a little longer, come and watch
dropped down, he who hid blurring his image, an illusion.

Hidden within the warm, earthy depth
my love, though false, come and blow a kiss to the flower.

 

 

Photo credits: Silence, Marta Bevacqua on Behance 

Form: Landay

Posted for Sanaa’s Challenge: My final prompt @ Real Toads

also Posted on the Open Link Night @ dVerse Poets Pub

Into the wild, a wide spectrum of opinion

I stand surrounded by mist of a bygone period,
the dark ocean
illuminating clouds of deepest charcoal–
could the impossible ensue so as to strip me of thoughts,
twisting and turning
attempting to drown me with their whispers
low and false–
amidst the chaos there shines a brilliant ray of hope
from the lighthouse of the Pharos,
and though its vociferation is diffused
there is something about that place that ushers
a gush of strength
inside of me,
r
immed with a lambent pandemonium of magenta dreams–
carried by the wind,
I sleep laden with promises of tomorrow on my pillow.

 

Photo credits: Pharos ~ Kerry O’Connor

Posted for the ‘Art collaboration in December’ @ Real Toads

And Posted on the Pantry of Poetry and Prose @ Poets United

December, daring to dream, thrusts itself into existence

The wind perhaps is most perceptible when we speak of change,
blowing empty thoughts to keep my glass refilled–
somewhere, someone’s heart beating for me, cares.
And when I sense you must be there,
my pulse quickens–
I would’ve followed a prettier road but that would’ve left no chance
of meeting you,
trickling slowly down the shaft of an incense candle
is indecision,
or what’s left of it really
I would’ve clung to familiar things had the prospect of appearing false
not occurred to me.
Ah, what then broke through? What once was sewn with a needle–
Perhaps my lips have always hungered for the taste of danger,
of metamorphosis delicately coating my tongue,
you know I do, don’t you?

 

 

Photo credits: Marta Bevacqua, Drifting down to the ground

Posted for Midweek Motif ~ Changes @ Poets United