Oh the effort is clear
for someone so dear
one might wander all
the reason of love we call
our own heart has an ache
we feel it with ever stake
of scrutiny our mind compels
when wonder silent tells
I walked outside in arctic
waves, freezing is so cryptic
to know our lives in balance
hang before our only chance
I’m lounging in the sea you see
wanting only my mind to be free
There are days
upon waking
when as the sunlight slats
my life, my world,
when told we must begin,
I lay in bed in sweet recall,
oh it is another
remember when
her touch,
my fingertips
run along the scalp of her forehead,
only the real,
a movement, opportunity
to be with one another
having little desire
to move beyond just this
while finding eyes.
Oh I do have recalls,
the tears immediate
the results are always now
meant to be the same,
to find love
beyond the shadows
the real,
is a nostalgic remedy
to the loss
of some imaginative reality.
I remember when …
I remember when …
I wonder if when together our memory
is stronger when we wander
together in the quiet
hands touching
our minds thinking only this moment
when the forest is forever
our footsteps on the matted trail
the beauty of such
is what we once knew
love
is now a memory.
Perhaps it might be impossible to imagine
love can ever be lost
when we might find ourselves
caught up in a flurry
of
remember when
delight in passion meant a way
to erase a day
if only I might have
her
in my arms …
Remember …
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
Oh, to find sauce in the sweep of a tongue,
to linger in gasp
might we some way know a path
along his center,
the long and drawn out slide of exploration,
to feel her response,
the sweet touch a nectar of truth
when cradling moans become such wild
release,
not yet we will always say,
trying to find
an edge,
know when she, he,
when they as one
wish us, wish them
find our center together
in such is this our explosive mantra,
the sensuality of the human condition
discovered.
Oh it is alluring,
the mind wishes to travel
inside the fantasy
of sin,
a practiced sexuality,
the mystique of woman,
the brazen nature of man,
the combination of some swift surreal
engagement of this
our universal gender driven desire
to offer sweet solace,
sweaty and spent,
in each other’s arms,
legs intertwined,
minds as one.
We need the eyes for everything to be real.
“You are like night, calmed, constellated. Your silence is star-like, as distant, as true.” —Pablo Neruda
Being told of loss
words become secondary
the heart May scream
For a dream
must contain
love, its mystique
eyes open in shelter
yet outside a wild
fury of natural passion
will wait, does wait, can wait
good morning tearful eyes.
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
for Zelda
I woke
toward anxious
winds
a natural howl
for which contained
No
familiar voice
hers
forever lost inside
a further and distant
horizon
I stand, alone
listening
 | a quiet man on Haiku Love |
 | Yernasia Quorelios on Haiku Love |
| a quiet man on I Took A Walk |
 | Priti on I Took A Walk |
| Priti on I Took A Walk |
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
"I feel the rush of your love through my entirety and I know in this very moment of my existence this is where I belong" - The Creative Chic
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Concerning All Types Of Relationships
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