A bit about poetry,
Poems whether romantic, spiritual or
even silly are deep expressions of the heart, never, ever to be taken
literally, nor to be explained. A poem about making love, could
really be about God. One about nature, possibly is truly about love,
or just plain raw sex. I invite you to read between the lines, scan
above the clouds, but most of all allow the words to speak deeply to
your own heart and see what emerges. I asked for help for the perfect
romance songs for this post. What my friends suggestions taught me is
that what songs move a person is personal and individual. Read these
poems with the songs in your mind...if you so choose to read them.
Happy Valentines month!
A
Bite of Lemon Grass
The
dream came before me and slowly she did creep, my awareness swallowed
by so much else, she almost was unnoticed ~ Popping there beside me,
my heart lept a beat, to see the one I dreamed of, no vision, no
nighttime cloud of wonder, but a tangible, touchable someone to be
touched.
However
the touching had been done ~ yet passed, by that which stood beside
me, smelling of lemon grass and freshly washed cotton. Exchanging
words with fullness and bloom ~ like the dunes we lept over &
slid down in our youth. Biting into the shoulder to claim my dream
seemed so easy & right and the dream called out that it would be
so.
Letting
go & releasing that which bursts to be free is one thing, but to
make a dream a reality can be quite another. One bite, leading to
flirtatious kisses & beyond where the wild horses roam…well
there are places in the valleys best left un-explored. Should she
recognize me, this dream ~ but something says she did already…
~J~moonmango
A time warped in in cognizant reality
A
blue cat's visitor
Blue
was the color of his joy filled eyes. Blue was his name. Blue was
the color of the one who longed for him through the screen door.
Blue was the fear that separated them from rapture. ~J~
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Blue is a dog that came to visit with his human.
He has two of the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a dog. Wish
I’d gotten some pics of Dandy cat (His Highneyness) looking longingly
out at him, but too fearful to go play. 
My
Sweetheart and My Lover
My
Sweetheart holds the umbrella as we walk in the rain making sure to
keep me dry, offering his hand as I cross the puddles
My
Lover takes me on the mountain top in the lightening storm sheltering
me from the rain with his body while pressing my mine against the wet
mossy ground
My
Sweetheart kisses me sweetly to say goodnight under starry skies
My
Lover takes me into the starry night bringing me forth into mornings
light.
My Sweetheart builds my fire with carefully arranged cones & kindling
My
lover lights my flame into an inferno and keeps it stoked throughout
winters darkness
My
Sweetheart makes me dinner being careful not to burn the food
My
Lover feeds me mangos out of season while dinner grows long cold
My
sweetheart is Attraction, My Lover Passion be,
To
choose between the two ...
you
see I desire them both ~ and both must share my bed...
~J~moonmango
Heavens
Briar Patch
Bed
me now in Heaven’s Briar Patch ~ lovely and full of thorns,
such
as the blossom of my desire ~ for your touch
~J~moonmango
River
Not
all rivers & creeks make it to the sea…,he said to me, then
told me of one that doesn’t. Spreading out & disappearing,
ending just the same. I like to think the rain brings it back,
sprinkling into the sea…
The
sound of the creek filling the forest, All good things must come to
an end…taking me so sweetly~ that creek rushing on through the
night…all good things must come to an end.
Like
the river & the creek, that ends at the sea dissipating,
evaporating, soaking in to be drunk up by a tree ~
~I
like to think it all ends with him & me~
~J~moonmango
The
Lake
Ascending
over the rise to Tenaya Lake ~
a
vision of breathtaking beauty...
shirt
in hand - all but what is ~ bare to biting cold wind,
yet
he walks, with altruistic form,
looking
with intention, straight ahead towards the icy lake
Cornsilk
hair, tied and blowing off his neck ~
sunlight
caressing perfect muscular curves
unblemished
flesh illuminated in sunlight...
I
pass by, barely remembering that I'm driving...
wishing
I were the bitter wind, or better yet ~ the lake
~J~moonmango
10/8/12
What would romance
be without Emily Dickenson?
 |
| Sweetness on Tunnel View |
Underwood
Poems
waft through my head, spending time, but not setting up residence
appearing to have a map and compass of their own, prompting to merge
like rivers, creeks & cascades pouring down from the mountains
into the lake. .
Thoughts
of the old Underwood – it's beautiful raised keys ~ the
satisfaction of pushing them down as they click, clacked punching
letters on the page with a rhythm and a beat. The challenge of
keeping consistent pace, looking not at the keys, but at the page,
making no mistakes. Tap, ta, tap, tap...tap, ta tap...shit. ~ No
delete on that baby.
Wandering
mind venturing again into the slight gentle curve where land meets
sea and all is lost to the wind and the sails, oh but that which lies
awake in the grass ...
Colorful
intricate woven cloths of my dreams.
Take
two fingers and swipe to the right...see where that goes why don't
you?
Faeries
breath caught in the clutch of an infants fist.
Oregon
grape, its red leaves and deep purple berries vining on a chain
linked fence, on a rare sunny day in the rain forest ~ reaching for
them in another time and place, for a dye bath ~ meditating,
focusing, trying... to be in the present, falling backwards, making
peace with God on the way down, never having been so
completely in the present as when hitting bottom...staring through
the grate at the end of a culvert leading to the inlet...knowing that
were the rain falling as it will any other day there ~ , there I'd
be, pressed against that grate which opened to the inlet...on to a
new leg of the journey.
A
dance...again full circle to the wind and the sails ~ all this said,
based on the reoccurring remembrances of the nape of your neck
~J~moonmango
Pondering My Lovers Kiss
While
waking upon Stanford Pt ~ dew settling upon my face ~
sun still hidden behind halfdome ~
sun still hidden behind halfdome ~
My
Lover’s kiss, so sweet & true ~
Stay
wet my lips like morning dew…
Morning
dew ~ like my lovers kiss upon my lips ~
Stay
wet my face…refusing dissipation into the lightening sky ~
Crescent
moon cradling Venus, drawing near the burning orb ~
To
light the way to paths yet traveled…
~J~moonmango
Hardly
A Morning…
Hardly
a morning passes when the sun does not greet the moon in passing upon
my breast from gentle star lit darkness to warming light.
On
occasion, the suns crepuscular rays brush lightly upon my back as I
wake…colliding warmth & coolness into electric thunder;
awakening every cell to ecstatic bliss.
The
times when morning comes slowly, lingering upon its horizon, seem
most precious somehow. Morning waking with tenderness and cool
breezes which stir deep within, subside, then stir again what lies
patiently anticipating ~ anticipating~ anticipating…the day?
Silver
crescent moon & bright planets bowing and backing away, making
way for the suns light * these days and nights of the Universe
transitioning, reek mayhem and ravage every sense upon my rising.
All this, only to leave me weary,
then rise up in calamity once again…again, weary, rising up in
calamity ~ once again…
When
silver orb & golden ball of fiery light forget each other at
times, the wakening to the stars and crisp air stir me cognizant from
unconsciousness, kindle and revive ~ that which lay lull in zoetic
light of moon.
Lingering
days stretching long keep warm the moons time… allow morning sun
rays to caress uncovered flesh, gifting it such with pleasant glow,
like fine beach sand ~ slowly sifting ~ through a child’s fingers
to sprinkle a freshly formed castle. Moon & Sun intertwining in
silky warmth … spreading out along a river of stars & clouds
Hardly
a morning passes when the sun and the moon upon my waking breast does
not set the tone of anticipation of the new day. A Union of cosmic
syrup; like honey & molasses coat and run down, blanketing that
which lie exposed.
Hardly
a morning….
Hardly a morning
passes~
Precipitating
…anticipating…
Hardly a
morning~
~J~moonmango
Pains
Whisper
Soaking
in like rain on sphagnum moss ~ your love for me
Rolling
off like rain on a ducks back ~ my love for you
Beauty
beyond a fairy’s lucid dream, the pain you pour forth
Never
had I known…the loveliness that blossom’s from pain.
Must
this spiraling inferno posses me so ~ breathlessly?
Could
the wind never cease to blow ~ so hot, so slow ?
Slain
was the dragon who blew the windy fire from below
The
dragons den…bones, whimsical chimes, snow & rain
Clinging to loves sweet supple fruit ~ mangos ripe to squeeze
A slipper, comfortable, warm, dependable ~ tossed out the door
The
wrens drop on it a spat with seeds… Spring’s Clarkia
Place
the heart of the dove in the Dragon’s den, gently as she came
Lay
me down in a field of blooming mallow ~ color my cheeks
Press
me like the field poppy flattened in the book ~ of my youth
Honey
so sweet in the morning, laying in my bed, forming crystals -
what
sparkle all around, gently stroking, gently stroking…the flame
Breath
of life, sorrows blessed curse ~ weigh upon the moth
White
as down in a wood nymphs bundle ~ yet it does glow
Softly
the whisper states all that stirs in this suffering heart
Parching
all that wafts along, coming close, resting from pain
Vacant
light, transcends the orb quieting the Universe ~ a grain
Sand
as far as the mirage deceives, or perceives ~ a whisper
Softly,
softly the whisper that sweetens the morning with light
Whisper
softly, whisper softly, whisper, whisper…whisper…softly
~J~moonmango
I Dance
Looking
out the window in the night on a full moon with parting clouds
leaves
lit up by moonlight give the appearance of fresh fallen snow
A
mouse running past ~ a faerie
glistening
flecks on the walkway
~ a million diamonds
~ a million diamonds
The
night calls to me to come and dance
My
Love slumbering beside me ~
gives me
want to stay
I
dance, gently waking My Love upon return...kiss the moon and ~ greet
the day
~J~moonmango
Just
a compilation of several sweet memories swirled, sorted and wrapped
in moonbeams. A peek out the window the other night being deceived
again by the leaves lit up & pretending to be snow stirred these
memories up.
Tonight Dear,
let me miss you
quietly...consider it a gift
The days have been hard and long
nights passing as shooting stars
So let me miss you quietly...below the
stars so bright
Consider it a
gift Dear,
but wake me slowly with the suns rising ~
to show me what I
missed
~J~moonmango 2/1/13
It seems time to add a new one to this post, as neglect has left the blog some time ago, the necessity of a whole new post is nowt. Still, new chapters deserve notice and sweet inspirations their fair shake. Happy Valentines day to all who deem each day as the first.
 |
| 4 Mile Trail Yosemite January 2015 |
I have found treasure under a map
and so it seems ~
all that needs saying,
or hearing,
may be found
printed in sweet letters
on the back of a store slip ~
beneath the map
that leads to treasures
yet to look forward to
signed by the Captain himself
No X to mark a spot
which can easily enough
be found
~J~moonmango 2/9/15
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