I looked for you everywhere
every day it would be
another like adventure,
imagining you might
walk around the corner.
I was at the beach sitting there
by the picnic tables.
I would see you again
at a concert
where our favorite band
might be playing
walking down the avenue
where I knew you
might be familiar,
riding my bicycle along
paths nearby your home
not intentional
just where my ride would take me.
I looked everywhere,
hoping again I might
catch a glance
of your forever beauty.
In the quiet
sharing peace of mind
appears a flutter
special sound
twirls the mind.
watching her work,
gentle
examination.
Finding nectar where
only patience can find.
A pleasure to have
such soaring
beauty
hover nearby
this our calm
autumn morning.
While deep in mind
only the damp taste of her skin
lips trace stirring gasps
silk tease of a neck so precious
as her shoulders open
now wanting more
while hands await a reach
and then flourish
the small of her back
soft kneading fingertips
knowing her center is near
yet a wanton tease
awaiting her own urgency
to now
now
to now
seek her wonder
there it is,
sweet sensuality
her beautiful soul.
© Scott F Savage 3/2022
She stood against the window
light streaming
he imagined her naked form
a silhouette
in morning’s dawn.
He wanted her lips
to send him further
a passion in sunlight
so romantic my lament.
Her shoulders, his hands, his lips
tease her neck
shivers might send him
further
though slow now
tongue longing
wet taps, reminders upon her skin.
He would feel her face,
cheeks flush finding comfort
while her hands pulled close
she wanting only
to feel their own surreal passion
finding center
while the morning
burst into their lives.
©️Scott F Savage 12/2021
I have recently spoken of a difficult and dark time in my life. These times really do have an impact on the human condition, and for me sometimes they are rather scary. A few weeks ago my state of mind was such that an impulse agreed with my sentiments, but fortunately there were too many variables to prevent any dire response. I wrote about it, thought about it, and processed it in my head, and here I am today speaking of a different perspective. I wanted to write a poem on the title but now I believe I will change up the words a bit.
I spent another week in the woods by a lake. I remember last time my thoughts were morbid, but today I return and though there still is that perpetual sadness, along with it there is also a nostalgia, an ability to appreciate the goodness in our lives, and focus upon those moments of love and giving with one another. The beauty is of course the sparkle of attraction, that driving force of the human being who believes in every aspect of the person standing in front of them, holding them, believing in them. That Grace is very difficult to let go of and in the last couple of years I have experienced such loss, but now my goal is to value the wonder of it all.
Today, I want to focus upon the goodness of love, the kindness of heart, and the fullness of our soul. These are all moments that occurred in my life, and hopefully the people I am closest. I I hope someday I might continue to reflect upon this aspect rather than tear myself down and reach points of desperation that put me in a vulnerable state of mind. Today, I am recalling the wonderful nature of sharing passion and love with one another, and for me that is more fulfilling than resolving any difference of need and want in any relationship I have ever known.
Today I want to know kindness, affection, the beauty of love, and peace of mind.
© Scott F Savage 7/2021
only she might know her tears while he is masculinity
lost in pause
hers is well-defined in silence as he might pressure on
she would stoic
emergence is her elegance in posture
his exceeding passing frenzy
could only wish to achieve a peace
some compelling save would might settle her storm
this is love
© Scott F Savage 7/2021
I could feel the drops hitting the top of my hat,
it was the hiking hat worn
so many times before when the sun beaten down
now gave it its own worn
look of better days, though today in the rain,
its very meaning, the idea of cover,
its job had been clearly carried out,
well, at least in the rain.
~
I wondered then, as I do tonight about time,
does it really change,
will absence create a fonder nostalgia
that no one can recall the good or bad times,
only the rain,
as it fell down today seems to make a mark,
a damp reminder perhaps of tears.
~
I know that tomorrow will be a sunny morning,
a walk in the radiance of a bright rise,
might do me so good,
shake the aftermath of a downpour
that emotional journey we seem to let ourselves upon
when it is we feel the air begin to change
we know a good rain,
bring us all fresh flowers in the morning.
© Scott F Savage 6/2021
We speak of idealism,
that flattering notion of clarity
when asking the world to realize
sweet options, intriguing outcome.
I know a guy I never knew
but he had these words
transcending his own life of weakness
to leave a powerful legacy of hope and faith.
I believe so much in his memory
found his script
and the word wakes to my eyes every morning,
my forearm a constant reminder.
Imagine the now, imagine just how
we could live our lives
let go of the pain
realize the beauty in a spectacular horizon.
Take a moment, please, imagine
we might all find happiness within our soul.
© Scott F Savage 6/2021
We fell in love,
well
when together
our eyes did, if then, I felt
she feared …
told me
run away.
I could not,
a person feels compelled;
natural beauty was
her.
In the end
the fraud he claimed to rue,
his manifest drew.
We knelt our circumstance,
she knew
I in her passion felt moments were new
spring would be
his hope, my hope,
she returned
not to me.
We fell in love.
©️ Scott F Savage 12/2020
Hers a quiet disposition
beyond the travail
words in hand
a demeanor might suggest
quiet repose
a certain elegance
would that she might
feel
such is pleasantry
yet in pose
sweet solace
in eyes romantic
like that of age
we once knew
a fantasy,
beauty in silence.
 | 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
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