Freedom

… feel
the temptation to seduce
and to be seduced

feel that tingle of slowness
surrounding your skin

inhale the moment
allow it to inhabit your beat

allow it to seduce your mind
into believing you are free

…  feel
your skin
and the moisture between your fingers

feel the slowness of time
kissing your soul

inhale and exhale
touch the essence of, passion

allow it to seduce you
allow it your freedom

… feel
the vibration of life
tremble inside your heart

between your fingers
your toes, your thighs, your

freedoms

A Power Omniscient

You are, my love
my love
Little do you know it
but you are, my love
my love
Little do I know it
but I am, my love
your love

for there is a power within us
a power without us
a power omniscient

for there is a time of darkness
a time of lightness
a time unrelenting

for there is a passion within us
a passion without us
a passion profound

for there is a strength of courage
a strength of weakness
a strength enlightened

for there is a fragility within us
a fragility without us
a fragility chaotic

for there is a feeling of real
a feeling of magic
a feeling primal

for there is a treasure within us
a treasure without us
a treasure omniscient

for you are, my love
my love
Little do you know it
but you are, my love
my love
Little do I know it
but I am, my love
your love

 

This is a shortened version of the poem I wrote in 2015

Ancient Virgin

The last book
found
amongst the littered remains
of a struggled past

a survivor
unread
unopened
an ancient virgin

devouring eyes
pore over

loving fingers
caress

pages flutter
with each delicious
touch

words drip
with each bacchanal
read

Overcome with
saviour’s emotion
the last book
found
crumbles
… crumbles
… … crumbles

no more books
no more pleasure
no more whispers
no more life
no more pain
no more love
no more joy
no more emotion
no more soul
no more words
no more imagination
no more passion
no more feelings
no more death
no more
… no more
… … no more

The last book
lost …

~

This was first posted here on September 5th 2011 (edited)

Someday, perhaps

***

The dark fire of love
will one day perhaps
kiss
the very core
of this solitude
until
all that remains
is ashes
and these ashes
will be breathed upon
they will ignite
and light
they will rise up
to become
solitude no more
but dark kissed fingers
of the light soul of love
~
where passions
burn

***