NSFW – Adults Only Please – My goal with this page constantly evolves – there was a time when all I wanted was to pique a woman's interest in the hope we connect through writing, dialogue … today, with all of the wonderful inspiration I've received, my need is to further my respect and intrigue in the sensual nature of 'woman' in all of her grace and elegance. I do hope you might enjoy!

Posts tagged “loss

When Shock Numbs the Soul


It is a relief,

a quiet release of air,

then a somber tone,

maybe a tear.

 

It’s when we finally,

understand,

or we recognize we need to.

 

So often in our lives,

we pretend we haven’t any more time,

and yet,

look what happens years later,

we suddenly come to terms with mortality.

 

We are funny sometimes,

the way we protest,

create a mountain out of

a simple phrase,

then afterward, we cry.

 

And the beat goes on …


These Tears


They are just now,

as you read the words,

know they pour from my soul,

each drop

layers my check,

dresses the faint dampness,

a quiet midnight sky,

would not reveal,

unless it were your eyes,

that I might count on,

near me,

your gasp, your love,

to dress my heart,

to show my world,

you exist inside me.


Deceptive Isolation


Have you ever really looked,

studied expression beyond a comment,

the quiet afterward,

if you could be inside that bubble,

how soon would despondency return.

 

I’m asking a question,

I already know the answer,

because it always returns,

despite my effort to want to move forward,

it’s the questions, the unknown,

the desire to feel wanted,

and then everything goes to hell.

 

Have you ever wondered if a person’s frame of mind,

is solely built upon interaction,

what if you put them in the words,

with an assurance of human isolation,

how long would they last before they decided,

nature might be the best solution.

 

Next time you wonder,

take a moment,

realize your impact is far greater,

than you might quietly ever imagine,

in the space of your own reasoning.


A Wish to Disappear


Oh it’s true, not simply a mockery

we often appear to be more cagey

 

I’ve carried the wounds of childhood,

in order to find comfort in that I would.

 

This life I lead is sometimes a travesty

I hurt people to benefit me, simplicity.

 

A long time ago, she seemed to agree

yet still today I haven’t a place to be.

 

I live in a bubble some might decide

if pierced life would surely need subside.

 

Yet, somehow I maintain an integrity

one that surely lives on in subtlety.

 

She is the maker of my dreams I swoon

though it is me shatters imagery too soon.

 

I wonder about this state of mind tonight

is it really all that matters or that might.

 

I can feel my body is resolute with despair

I cannot move from this place to there.

 

I wish that I could feel a sense of response

to rather know the pain than cause a ponce

 

I’m a quiet man inside my lonely mind

there’s far too much memory to remind.

 

I hope that time might heal the pain I cause

for as much as time for me does give pause.

 

I love to know that my life here does exist

for the need to disappear I then might resist.


In Such A Low


my mother would reference this place,

a sort of mental ravine,

her heart might nearly stop,

eyes would glaze?

blood flow in her feigns might suddenly,

spill into one pool of spun lethargy.

This was not a place

she liked to be,

she’d often howl at the nature

of love and all it’s failings.

 

yet, she never discovered a solution?

only knew when inside?

not a lesser degree of pain

could ever exist.

 

where my mother was always never to pull the plug,

I might decide otherwise,

though my freedom would be sought?

there leaves a ring of memory,

clinging to everyone’s personal psyche.


Waiting


 

I won’t reach out again,

to find more misery,

the hours have dragged with ideals

none of which belong here tonight,

only soft, passive, realities of time.

 

We did find humor in our caprice,

then lost all imagination when slow

the world began to change,

I should have known the signs,

they’re typical with cliches abound.

 

What happens when a dream declines,

the atmosphere of weak reason

overtakes our simple design.

when then we wait to know the end,

when then we wait to know the end.


Alone in Notion


An emptiness

settles my mind,

when I can know the feeling remains.

If hesitation

suggest an opportunity

the anxiety blows me,

figuratively

of course,

that literal need is always knocking

when I’m alone,

when time stands still and hours fly by,

I wonder if anyone knew

would they …

or

is it me.

Am I the solution to my need,

seems to be a sort of shallow satisfaction,

yet when is it that

preoccupation

finds an eventual happy medium.

There’s a reason I haven’t sought out

that

I suppose it’s some moral conviction,

a desire to maintain my integrity

in the midst of a pool of wanton sensuality.

Find her at home,

is my friend’s lament,

and yet,

I already know this,

I just wonder if she ever will.