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~
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...
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
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~
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
What would romance
be without Emily Dickenson?
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
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…
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~
Hardly a morning~
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
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
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.
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
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,
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