she bleeds poetry . Her words are oxygen filling my lungs with love. Intoxicated by her verses my head rests on metaphors. Finding solace in each stanza her writing inspires me. My muse doesn’t write… More
Not Long Enough
Will not be long enough time to be in love with
Lonely Author reaches for the love dial. Time to turn it up a notch.
Drowning In Thoughts Of You
Señoritas start to sway
As a smooth samba plays
Adrift like a cube of ice
Lost in you is so very nice
Feelings I can no longer deny
Entangled between your thighs
Your firm body can intoxicate
Of that there can be no debate
I want to kiss your sensuous lips
Feel you grind against my hips
Now mojitos are downed in haste
And I long to savor your aftertaste
Your body will be my holy shrine
When your sweat mingles with mine
This cantina never set the mood
As I slowly became unglued
Submerged in a mojito or two
Drowning in thoughts of you
I do hope my Muse will approve. I do. I do.
In Another Place and Time
(A Tale of Love Reincarnated)
Our souls met under the hot sun
In the land of the Pharaohs
The magic of a first kiss under a date palm
Lasted for quite a while
Until we made moonlight love
On the banks of the mighty Nile
Time passed before we were one again
Me the glorious warrior standing
Alongside my controlling Spartan wife
While you tended my wounds which often bled
I boasted of victories on the battlefield
Yet every night it was you who conquered me in bed
Years had passed when you died in my arms
Succumbing to the mysterious Black Death
Then came my arrival to the New World
Greeted by your warm Native American smile
Two hundred years later you became my loving slave
And me the master you beguiled
After centuries of living and dying beside you
I search for my twin flame
In hopes of finding you once more
For souls travel without rhythm or rhyme
And I cling to the desperate hope of loving you
In another place and time.
“I will look for you in every lifetime and love you there.”
― Kamand Kojouri
This is dedicated to all my haters. Please watch your step as you form an orderly line. You truly are number one. (Wanna guess which finger I’m extending?)
Forgive Me Father
Forgive me Father
For I am guilty of love
Come and be the judge
Like your modern day preachers
Orating sermons of black sludge
Little green skinned disciples
Claws preaching on holy keyboards
Judging all of your children
Clinging tight to Bibles
As they cast the first stone
Father you always taught love
Now sacred hypocrites spew hatred at the pulpit
For when they are not walking on water
These predators must be
Slithering on hallowed ground
Father, my debauchery warrants punishment
Banish me to Satan’s dark inferno
While I’m there, what should I tell
All of these judgmental disciples
When I bump into them in the bowels of hell.
Karma is a bitch.
This is for you Nandita.
Pearls of white tears
moisten her tender cheeks
cascading onto dark pages
penning words of life and love.
Mirrors fail to reflect her light
as the world responds to her affections
with green venom and thunderbolts.
Bent but never broken
she remains a mystery for so many
even as she fails to decode herself.
Unable to decipher her puzzles
she is forever trapped in a poetic web
entangled in an endless soliloquy.
Bleeding love and empathy onto pages
‘til she can barely live or write
or love herself anymore.
Seeking refuge in her shadow
and behind a broken smile
she longs to hurt no more.
She questions destiny
will her words, her love, her life, herself
ever be an enigma finally resolved.
Or will she forever be
My indigo child of love.
Photo from Google Images
I have never had a guest on my blog, but what better time than now. This is a poem written by my dear friend Nandita Yata. She will be replying to your comments. I will interject if and when it is needed. Thank you for reading.
That one friendship can cause so much hate mail is unimaginable.
Seriously, I am considering shutting down my blog. I know my friend Nandita is shutting down hers. All because of hateful people like Aruna, and two other vicious cowards hiding behind the names of Juanita and Jill. At his moment, I have little desire to read posts if I can’t read one of my favorite poets. And if everything I say or do leads to her pain, why bother to stay in WordPress? You are leaving me with no choice.
This is for you N.
Forget How To Breathe
You think I could rip you
from my Velcro heart
Perhaps it would be easy
for you to forget me
All this time
You only had to miss me
While I had the Godforsaken curse
Of having to missing you
I know I can’t
I won’t even try
It would be so much easier to
Forget how to breathe.