The moon’s a prognosis of what’s to come;
somnolent
and rising on the sprawling green of my cornfield heart,
why is it that the world insists upon dissecting what cannot be dissected?
Vagrant,
I barely recognize the faces which once seemed familiar and warm,
it’s uncanny
how perception of the world changes when circumstances go awry—
I prefer not to transgress, to go about and tackle situations as softly
as shoes of a ballet dancer instead;
adorning and rejuvenating the only stage that matters.
The moon, in omens of tempest and calm doesn’t actually alter its shape;
not even when waning,
it’s knowledge
which comes only after we have spent a considerable amount of time
sustaining ourselves—
I am firelight, my consciousness immune to toxicity, to blackness
that surrounds and torments; I smile knowing it too is a form of rebellion.

 

 

Photo credits: Henrik Aa. Uldalen painting, Pinterest

A Skylover Wordlist: Uncanny, firelight, transgress, awry,
rebel, somnolent, prognosis, vagrant 💝

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

As I would bite into the ripeness of plums;
so, would I attempt to pave my way into your breast—
your breath would catch
as night moves closer to the inception of dawn;
so much of you is already written
into my soul.
A smile, a glimpse into hurrying possibilities;
the long, lush
and riotous reeds of your untamed desire would part,
igniting the sky—
the contour of your torso is nothing less than enigmatic;
it requires attention,
wind-blown kisses tinged with a willingness to explore;
for when we touch
even in the slightest, hushed and most insignificant way,
I am lifted.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Skylover Wordlist: Enigmatic (words found and used after
scrambling are) Tame, ignite, tinge 💝

Posted for Writers’ Pantry @ Poets and Storytellers United 

I want to love you;
as twilight comes to bring respite, to the time of reflection
upon the day gone by and awaiting
to be renewed by the sun—
such is the allusion to enthused season,
to every fiber in my being which the day heralds.
I will let you set the pace,
for only then can poetry drink from the rain—
I don’t know what hits me more, rhythm
or mere limitations of language;
perhaps conflict of every nature is what keeps us going.
I watch as lips curl around the rim of the glass,
around purpose, around punctuation,
leaving behind a painted streak that begs not to edit—
I am brave enough;
for what is emotion but a road upon which we are called
to travel?
I harbor a wild, insatiable appetite to live blatantly
in my audacity to be me; I want to love you.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Richard Blunt Artwork, Pinterest

Words Used: Allusion, conflict, edit, pace, punctuation,
poetry, rhythm 💝

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

Do you ever consider what it might be like?
Barefoot, hovering in spaces
between silences
which erase themselves by morning—
I taste an emotion inexplicable,
swirling pink
amidst a bed of brambles and unfamiliar leaves;
the thorns
have a thing or two to teach.

 

 

 

Photo Credits: Pink beverage by Alex Loup, Unsplash

Posted for Quadrille #108 @dVerse Poets Pub

Is your sweetheart edible?
Like butter on toast to break in half and share;
like rising to first rays of the sun,
together in bed,
tell me, “does the feeling put you on edge?”
I write poems on the supple skin of his wrist,
his collarbone,
like one would serve raspberries in a bowl to ingest—
I crave him,
his mouth erotic, decadent, safe and dangerous,
compelled by a longing far deeper than corporeal—
are these feelings licit?
I fear nothing nearly as close can satiate; just as cheese
is salvation of the taste buds,
the sighs in his chest emanate cleansing showers
and ken—
it’s crucial that I hold on,
like budding blooms become one with his sacred loam;
is your sweetheart edible?

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Poem inspired by the title of Late Carolyn Kizer’s poetic
masterpiece, “Is your sweetheart edible?” 🍰

Posted for Open Link Night #270 @ dVerse Poets Pub