She makes notes

Annie.Spratt

 

She makes notes
To write her poems
To keep my story straight
I didn’t know I had a story
She pays attention
Wants to know it all
Shares in the gathering
She writes them in a shorthand
I can barely read
Recites them like a prayer
What I drink
Where I go
What I do
Nothing at all about who I know
Or where I’ve been
Or done
Only where and who I am now
She taps them out with her fingers
On my skin
Makes a rhythm with them
That she keeps while making love
With everything she does
In the morning she leaves them behind
They are hard to read
But their meaning is clear
I touch the pen she wrote with
The warmth of her remains
I trace the impressions in the paper
Like the lines in my palm
and find her there

 


 

Image by Annie Spratt

 

 

The Lovers

NightSky

We sit close in the grass
Embraced by Love
Watching the stars
Like a cosmic play
Performed by jealous gods
Impassioned goddesses
Myth and legend
Who feast on the sight
Of The Lovers below
So rare and welcome
To their ancient eyes
Our dancing fingers
Find the constellations
That bear our signs
Drawing a line between them
To see where we connect
Hands mingle and fingers tease
As you point to stars I strain to see
The warm breath of your laughter
Tickles my neck from behind
I turn to kiss
And we roll back into the wet grass
In a sweet entanglement
Of clothes and bodies
So eager to explore
To please
Yet we move with tempered passion
Heating the night air
Which joins our embrace
With welcome rain
A gift from the Divine
As we reach for Her shores
We escape our earthly form
And the stars fall away
In a swirl of light
Rearranging themselves
In a new constellation
Made in our image

 


 

Image is a quick edit I did from Stellarium

Simple

F748BA8C-9F77-448D-B533-056354E68606

The wind in my face on a hot day
While I strain and swear
Wrench in hand
Making repairs on those things
That seem ever broken
Because my wallet doesn’t weigh enough
To spread the wealth
The salty sweat as it touches my lips
The water that tempts and taunts
The icy brew that lightens the load however briefly
The sun behind the limbs
Of the giant pecan tree
That gave up the last of its nuts and leaves
Long ago
Yet still provides
Even in its final days
Shade and shelter
The sound of music
Through the abused speakers
Of a radio new before cell phones
The phone I tap with fingers calloused
From too many hours
Of work
And play
It’s bright screen repeating my words back to me
Scribing the love I feel
Always
That makes me smile or cry
That drives the words that escape me
While listening to songs I don’t know the words to
Wrenching on broken things under the shade
Of love itself
Simple

 

 

always

transcendence_by_kelogsloops-Hieu

my lips long to kiss you
     the taste of you
    electric

my hands desire to hold you
     the feel of you
    a dream state

my body craves to join you
     the touch of you
    nirvana

my soul is moved by you
     the essence of you
    transcendent

you are the light
in the dark night
     that makes clear
     the muddy path

the cool wind that whispers
in the slowing heat
     “I am with you”
     “I am with you”
  “I am yours”

you are all I ever wanted
     and more
    more
   so much more

come with me
     now
     here with me
          stay with me
          stay

          always

Image: “Transcendence” by Hieu

Words revisited

Some time back I set myself the unexpectedly difficult task of setting poetry to a list of words gathered from readers as well as from my own list of loved words. Words like “passion” and “joy” and “entwine”. This little piece evolved from that list of words and required constant editing because each word seemed to give birth, or shed light on, other words that were connected. It grew, large and unwieldy. What follows is the latest edit of that poem reduced to a manageable size that, I hope, makes sense while staying on task.

kiss

So long I waited
My life spent in beautiful surrender
In anticipation
Of you
How I longed
To hold you in my arms
Knowing you existed
Without ever knowing your name
To touch you
Softly
Sensually
To invite you close to me
To feel your heat next to mine
Like a slow fire
With hopeful desire
I waited
To share a lifetime with you
In romantic wonder
With mouthwatering dreams of us
Together
How long I prepared
In fearless devotion
To kiss with passion
and gentle abandon
your exquisitely tender flesh
To taste your delicious spirit
Bathe in your intoxicating soul
To share my heart
With hopeful gratitude

Now you are here
Close to me
Laying right there next to me
Breathing softly
Singing your song with me
I am seduced by the sound of you
Awakened by the scent of you
Your body calling out to me
I reach out
and find you reaching back for me

We touch
and all I dreamed
is made real

Pulses quicken
Fingers entwine
Bodies join
You call out my name
With sweet moaning
Press your body next to mine
With tempered fury
Our souls connection
A perfect union
To light the sky
with joyful passion
Our sacred space
with intense pleasure
Our one heart
with Love
Throughout our days
and into the nights
I offer you love with thoughtful intention
and give myself to you

You are the gift
I never thought I deserved
The treasure of a lifetime
I am yours

 

I am not alone

hive

I wonder; will I ever become the man I have tried so hard to be? Will my past ever let go of me? Can I ever truly break free from it? Move beyond it?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

Most of my successes have been built on the back of my failures. I didn’t learn to be the man I am by getting it right but by screwing up, epically, and then learning from my mistakes and becoming proactive instead of reactive. To always be mindful. To listen to what it is I am feeling, understand it, then express it productively.

I try.

There are times when unexpected reactions bubble up and I become toxic. Reaction takes over. Erupts.

Is this failure? While “failure” is not a word I often apply to anything, it can be considered a failure if those reactions affect those I love.

It happens. I wish it didn’t, I wish to God it didn’t, but it does and when it does I can not help but feel as if it is the last mistake I am allowed.

Then I remember something I told a friend of mine, “It’s not the last fight until it’s the last fight.”

In treating one of those volatile reactions as the final act that drives the nail into whatever it is I am doing I literally provide the nail, and the hammer, and the force that drives the nail home. I manifest my fears by believing in them.

What I am doing is worth the effort. Where I am is worth the time to adjust to. Who I am with is worth loving and believing in. We are worth believing in.

I will not believe in anything but those things which further my path, our path, and our place in the world.

Yes, I will make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. There will be times that the events of my past, a past I have spent so much time learning will come back to haunt me. The reason for this is simple; I have dealt with those things alone.

I am not alone. Not any more. I have a whole new set of lessons to learn now.

I look forward to the learning with the knowledge that it never ends.