Tag: Poetry

Persistence

Let the chips
Fall where chance
And gravity willed
His love for her
Was warm and persistent, cool
And kind like a beverage chilled
Forbidden by time and
Circumstance,
He confessed heartfelt emotions
Amidst so much commotion, and
Though slowed down, his love
Lumbered with locomotion.
-SpKn

Inconspicuous

Tears welled up
Behind copacetic eyes
All smiles and high fives
Yet inside there’s a man who
Just wants to cry and hide
From these ugly dark things, he
Can’t help but feel
Are they made up or can it be
These emotions are real?
Is all love lost, or with effort can
His heart be healed?
Tears stay stuck behind those battered
Eyes
His heart yells silently, stuck here
He knows he’ll die violently.
-SpkN

Eloquent Kisses

Ever so eloquent you stand with your back to me
Quick as a kitten, silent as a whisper
I entangle you in a warm embrace, my lips attack your neck
You push against me, melting into the strength of my arms.
My lips finish their gentle assault and softly
I say, “I love you.”

Axed

I am finally alone and in my head. Like looking around a room with familiar walls but unfamiliar furnishings. I do not know these thoughts. This is my space, I should feel at home instead of a lost voyager drowning in a sea of unspoken creativity.
It is a stuffy place to be, with no mirrors to show reflections of me, no windows to let in what I need to breathe. How can this be? Who took an ax to the root(s) of my tree—I had named her Life and Longevity.
I want to tell you world, that I turned 32 today, but no leaves of reflection can fall, this breeze sneaking through my window, tickling my toes, melodies cascading through my headphones—yeah I am 32 today, and for the first time in quite a while I am in my dome, reshuffling, reclaiming it as my own.

Break

In the midnight rain
Fast feet stepped and
Stomped—busy perfection
To blue notes.
Wind whipping through
Raggedy coats,
Wet hair clasped
Around bare throats.
Dancing feet reacquainted
With the concrete
Under a tearful sky
Sharing her sorrow
But only at midnight.
–SpkN

Beautiful Belongings

Similes are pretty things-

flowers on a window sill of

a decrepit apartment building.

Metaphors move with violent

passion-

like a boxer dancing

in the ring.

Blue is cliché but

every color is pink.

Commas are the yellow

lights of literature

a semicolon’s shape

is a red-white

octagon.

Like butter on toast,

we belong together.

-SpKn

Contact

The touch, the feel of

your bare brown skin

against my rugged texturin’

lights a fire deep within.

From my soul comes fantastical

fiery images full of

pure passion and heart pounding

action as I taste you

and you taste me.

You are my forever fantasy.

Tantalizing seduction glistens

in your eyes.

At first contact we

can make love and let

our hearts surmise

the depths of the

surprise as our panting

turns to sights.

-SpKn

 

Noise

Soliloquies spoken in silent spaces mean

little until courage is gathered and uttered

upon the ears of unsuspecting faces.

Mindless mental chatter; words not spoken

taste of age apprehension–and thus hearts are broken.

Ferocious words offering opposition plant seeds of fear-

These soliloquies are meant for the world to hear.

 

-SpKn