Eros 4: Confessions

Poetry

Confessions

Beloved,

do not vault yourself from me.

Please, give me a code that unlocks

all your pains, secrets, agonies.

I am a student, so educate me

until I can recite each fact

in your life story.

The stage is yours,

so narrate your inner tragedies.

Stand with me, off-load those honest

memories that left mine-fields in your heart:

What Daddy did and didn’t do;

what Mommy said and didn’t say;

how the first time wasn’t by choice;

how dark urges clouded all sense of purpose.

Share your issues and I’ll share mine.

Let us plant new orchards

in the desert of our past lives.

 

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Eros 3: Red Matter

Poetry, Uncategorized

Red Matter

Beloved,
where would we stand
In a mystic, cosmic sense?
‘Cause I know The Almighty
altered the universal order
To rotate your life around mine.
Fine, the interstellar gyrations
that levitate our hearts in synch
didn’t move so smoothly.
There had to be space-splitting
combustions of core wounds
before our orbits could align again.
Only then could our bodies sing
a spontaneous duet in the stars,
charting endless chords of celestial
lineages across the dimensions.

Eros 2: Valentine’s Day

Poetry

Valentine’s Day

Beloved,
What use would
valentines do
to aid my feelings
for you?
If crimson hues
paint shades
across the soul
then mine is sky blue
not from melancholy
when I’m apart from you
but from the thought
of our union
lifting us to unbound realms
beyond man’s lofty reach
So teach me how to speak
those words I deeply lock away
Beyond cards, roses, chocolate hearts
just stay, listen, forgive my mistakes
help me grow wings to join you
as our love departs this cage
of human age

Eros 1: I Do Not Fantasize

Poetry

My first poetry series of 2015! Throughout the month of February I will be posting poems that deal with the theme of love and human affection. Enjoy!

I Do Not Fantasize
Beloved.
I do not fantasize my hands against your buoyant, airy skin. I do not fantasize the copious taste
of your mouth. Nor do I see us lost in consummate embrace, fighting for air as we drown
in our affection. Not yet. Not while a chasm of pride and inhibitions divides me from you.

Not while your graceful ways guide me out to sea where tidal waves of unconscious pains
aim to cast our souls adrift. Not till I have you, and you me, in blessed matrimony; completely,
deeply offering ourselves to Whatever May Come. Only then will your alluring form arrest me,
because you’re not a phantasmic form, but an enamored being that feels, that exists, that be.