Beneath The Moon

Beneath heaven's vast display of night-time beauty,

I am captured by star kissed eyes

the color of a Spring-time woodland.

They speak to me of a growing hunger,

Ecstasy encased in a sweet soft kiss,

Summer grass caressing your fragile skin

'I need you' murmured with desire

Bodies touch and worlds collide

Bringing to fruition galaxies of emotion

Enticed into daring adventures,

as love play takes hold.

Hands grasped together,

to hang on to reality.

Lips blushed and swollen,

as pleasure is taken in full

Beneath a voyeuristic moon.

Writer's Block

Tapping against the keyboard
Staring at my pathetic attempts
To build poetic sentences
Flood my vocabulary into art
The delete button cannot stand much more
Of my idiotic mistakes
I will relieve it of it's chore
For I am haunted, yet again
By writers block

I Want

I want to run my fingers in between your pussy lips

To bend to taste your nectar and to drink in little sips

I want to feel the velvet of your warm enticing skin

And hear you sigh contentment when I push myself within

I want to bite your nipples just enough to make you moan

To pull your ass cheeks closer as your fingers brush my own

I want to spank your perfect ass and hear you beg for more

Your voice expressing passion is a sound that I'd adore

I want to pull your head up with my hand wound in your hair

To thrust inside you deeply and pretend that I don't care

I want to take you all the time, what else can I say

Your body could be the playground on which I romp and play

I want to be inside you when it's time for ecstasy

Even if only within our minds

I'll fuck you subliminally...

I just can't help wanting you girl

and I want...

you to want me

A Daydream Grind

The look in your eyes as you look into mine

The longing I have to feel your hands slide between my thighs.

The taste of your lips, the trace of your fingertips

sends me into a world of.... Extacy.

You have ignighted a fire that burns so intensely inside of me

setting my soul free.

Breathing in every breath you give to me

your body is calling and reaching out for me

to bring you into my sensual reality.

Emotional desires are longing to be fulfilled

as you hold my body close I can only wish that you will

quench my thirst for endless satisfaction

with just one touch you cause an uncontrollable reaction.

As our lips become intertwined and melt into one

our minds and souls seem to passionately become

part of each other as we willingly succumb

to the overpowering and almost unbearable desire...

to make each other cum.

My body just seems to go weak in your arms

leaving me helpless to your enticing charms.

As you touch me in ways only my lover would do

the tingling sensation given to me only by you.

I’m now at the point now where my senses don’t know what to do

I’m calling your name begging you to....

to never stop caressing me

to never stop kissing my entire body

to never stop bringing me.... Extacy

You wrap your arms around me so tight

rocking back and forth I plead with delight.

My body relaxes and falls deeper into yours

the feelings you brought out of me can not be ignored.

You look at me, us both wanting more....

But how could it get any sexier than this

how could you with just your kiss

just the way you move your hips

the erotic touch of your fingertips

the way you use your enticing lips

make my body feel like this.....

You brought me to Extacy, yes you did

But did I forget to mention this.......

We never even got undressed.

To Me...

She is a vision to behold.

Lovely and Graceful.

Her smile.

Her stature.

Luminescent and Pristine.

She is the ideal woman.

I crave her.

I pine for her.

To touch her.

To taste her.

To feel her touch.

This is my quest.

Fingertips lightly stroke her skin.

Sliding over her like silk.

Her body warms to the slightest touch.

Her soft moans push my fingers forward.

Her lips are soft and inviting.

Her kiss melts my heart.

Her voice vibrates my soul.

Her smell fills me.

To smell her on me is only part of her charm.

The fire in her eyes.

The fire in her soul.

Her wit.

Her heart.

Her laugh.

She is the ideal woman.

She captures my heart with her kiss.

She steals my will with her touch.

She makes me weak with her whimpers.

Her slightest wish is my desire.

To please her is my thrill.

To leave her, is the hardest thing.

I am at her heels.

Before you know it, you've fallen for this siren.

You fall hard.

You fall quick.

The trip is gentle & quiet.

Before you realize it you're hooked.

An hour isn't enough.

A day.

A week.

A month.

Waking up with her becomes a desire

To see her becomes an addiction.

To feel her becomes an obsession.

She is the ideal woman.

And as much as I wish to hold her

I wish that she could see--

She see's nothing but her flaws

But she's perfection to me.

Sampling

She exhales and I breathe in,
Like sampling the bouquet of her,
My finest wine.
My hands trace over her skin and I feel the roughness there,
Imperfect and scarred
And she is gorgeous

She breathes in and I exhale,
My lips tracing down to her breasts,
Kisses planted on each,
An offering to a goddess
I cup her breasts in the palm of my hands,
She shifts, restless
Breath hitching
And she is wanting

She sinks down and I lean in,
My fingers trace over her hips,
Lips finding her pelvic bone
Softly defined lines that lead me down
I grace her with my lips
And she is there

She arches and I move back,
Teasing her with breath and tongue,
She pleads and I give her all
Touching, giving, fucking, loving
She cries out and I smile loving the play of my name on her lips
Relaxing she smiles and I move up to meet her
I cup her face in my hands
And she is mine
And she is everything.

Transcend

Where tongue transcends torso,

I gasp in the grasp

of longing.

Lust and love

leave one lost and languishing

in the limbo of anticipation’s lull,

a seeker of the storm that soon

should break in the brilliant blue

and black, surrendering skies;

my rapture rediscovering

itself inside electrifying eyes.

Gypsy-fingers journey

hallowed hills and highlands,

sojourning south in search

of your fabled forest’s fringe,

where a luscious lagoon lays

a warm, wet welcome

like a will-o-wisp, wooing

wisdom, will and want.

I sail the seas of your soul,

following each ebb and flow,

sinking to the song

of a siren’s smile,

‘til I am no more

than a supine shipwreck

swept onto a sudden shore,

as several summer stars

blossom on the blessed glow of this night.

The Idea Of You

It's a fairly complicated slice of heaven
Where I am yours and you are mine
Yet we have never met.
Deeply, I am enthralled by you
And amazingly, I'm not afraid.
This isn't some teenage love affair
Where both parties only want the thrills of flesh against flesh.
I want your sweet eyes to look at me with the light of adoration
and I want to see the darkness of lust burst within them.
I want to know your smile
and I want to feel your tears.
I am in love with your wit.
I am in love with your mind.
I wish I could hear you breathe.
I wish I could hear your laugh.
I am so damn in love with you
and yet we've never touched.
How can this be?
I swear I've felt you, in a raindrop on my skin
I swear I've closed my eyes and heard you
Whisper my name on a breeze
Someone once told you that you wrote suffering
in a warm manner.
Like you knew it so well that you could communicate it in better strands of words than anyone twice your age.
Your mouth is made to wind words into luxurious sentences that express your every thought, your every ideal.
And I picture it, often, against mine.
Soft, voluptuous, delicious.
I am...
so damn in love...with the idea
of YOU.

Portrait Of My Mind

If I could paint a portrait of my mind
A masterpiece to show the world my thought
Displaying every path I've walked entwined
With every dream that I have ever sought

Would paint drip then to show the path of tears
Then pool to represent unfailing faith
And darker shades to hide my secret fears
Yet gold to show as courage underneath

A finger dipped in gray to represent
The shades that lie between my reasons why
And drops of red to bleed for loves now spent
The deeper hues for those that made me cry


If I could paint a portrait of my mind
Would such a picture represent me well
The pieces that are me in paint defined
For words alone are not enough to tell

The Power Of The Pen

The pen waits patiently
ready to caress between the lines
It teases open the notebook
waiting for the muse to respond
to the rhythm of the rambling pen
Dipping into her ink
inviting, urging, begging her to come
Penetrating the imagination
fantasies flowing onto paper
fantasies of us
of a love
passionate & sensual
heightened arousal
constant cravings
for the one that
shall be like
a euphoric drug
the inspiration
for all that is done
but also a sickness
a festering obsession
when thirst is left unquenched
as this love remains unknown
the drug is only enough
for thoughts penned to paper
making fantasy
a brief reality
for the heart & the mind
And moisture weeps between
my thighs
As words spill onto the page

No Greater Force

Beneath the waves of your soft and timeless beauty
I dive deeper with every passing day
Fully immersed in the depths of your secret places
Where merely a sigh washes existence away
I am consumed by the fire in your ardent eyes
Your glance ignites my soul’s wistful ember
Arousing a new passion burning intense and wild
Loosing the fetters of life’s cruel encumber
Come into me and I will come into you
Like wind stirring across the starry night
Unseen hands caressing the everlasting creation
Enamoring hidden wings of dauntless flight
Willfully I surrender to love’s reckless course
For the universe alone holds no greater force

Enchanted

You entered my mind and enchanted my soul;
I felt your beguiling presence but never touched you.
Your voice whispers in my ear.
Your words follow and pierce me;
Causing an inhuman desire,
A constant thirst that can not be quenched.
My body felt your dreamlike touch;
Your soft, hypnotic kiss caresses me.
Your mind seduction enslaves me.
You beckoned me to follow,
Knowing I could not deny you.
You beckoned me to come,
Knowing I would.
And when I came.....
Your name was on my lips.

Spotlighting: Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda was the pseudonym of the Chilean poet Ricardo Neftali Reyes Basualto. He was born in Parral a little town in central Chile, but moved to Temuco city when he was only months old. It was in this city where he showed interest in poetry and made his early works, and where he picked Pablo Neruda as a pseudonym because his father did not approve of his writing. He is considered one of the greatest Spanish-language poets of the 20th century.

He is called the poet of love, because his poetry is so sensual and sometimes very erotic. He was Chilean honorary consulship in Burma, Ceylon, Java, Singapore, Buenos Aires, Barcelona, and Madrid. In 1943, he returned to Chile but he left the country in 1949 because the Chilean President Gabriel Gonzalez Videla was chasing him for political reasons. Between 1949 to 1952 he lived in exile in different European countries. He was also known as an outspoken communist. he died in Santiago de Chile, few days after the coup of state on September 11th of 1973 where his friend Salvador Allende (the first socialist President to been elected democratically by the people in Latin America) died.

Trivia

He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971.

Children: Malva Marina (b.1934, d.1942)

Colombian novelist Gabriel García Márquez considers him the greatest poet of the 20th Century in any language. Mexican poet Octavio Paz considered Neruda "a servant of fascism".

Federico García Lorca was a primary influence on his style. The two poets were close friends up until Lorca's execution during the Spanish Civil War.

Biography/bibliography in: "Contemporary Authors". New Revision Series, Vol. 131, pages 321-330. Farmington Hills, MI: Thomson Gale, 2005.

The love poetry Patch Adams (Robin Williams) read to Corinne Fisher (Monica Potter) in the movie Patch Adams was from Pablo Neruda's "100 Love Sonnets : Cien sonetos de amor".

Kenneth Rexroth's translation of Pablo Neruda's 1955 poem "Brown and Agile Child" is shown on the back cover of Jackson Browne's 1976 album "The Pretender".

Adopted the pen name Pablo Neruda as a tribute to the Czech writer and poet Jan Neruda (1834-1891).


Personal Quotes

Love is so short and forgetting so long.

Only with burning patience shall we conquer the splendid city which shall give light, justice and dignity to all men. Thus shall Poetry not have sung in vain.

They may mow down all the flowers, but they can't stop spring. (I LOVE this quote)

Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart - a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.

The poem featured below is from Pablo's 100 Love Sonnets and is one of my favorites by him--Sonnet XLV "Don't Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day"

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --

because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because

then the little drops of anguish will all run together,

the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift

into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;

may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.

Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far

I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,

Will you come back? Will you leave me here,

dying?

Continuation...

...the after thought...

She lies spent before me, exhausted, vulnerable, sated beyond her wildest dreams...She is mine. The demise of her greed...left only her utterances...echoing inside her mind...her mind now mine...of all complexity stripped bare...now she flies...and she flies for me. She is mine.

I study her breathing, her every movement, she is a part of me, an extension of my own flesh, of my very soul. My bright eyes now even more alive...soaking her in...my love, my prize, my muse....my girl.

The urge to cover her shivering body I quash, for her flesh dances to my tune, warm and relentless...but safe - I hold her...just out of reach...there to catch her.

I study her intently as she trembles, fatigued physically, but still mentally in full flight, she is mine. Kite-like she soars, beautiful, majestic, free...but she will return to the gauntlet of my control and settle. For she is mine.

For me she strives for perfection, endlessly sculpted and refined...my control - her religion. She is mine. Her body my canvas, her every mark - my design...she is mine.

Her deep dark mind - my playground...her soul my treasure...she is mine. Her body my instrument, its divine symphony - under my orchestration...She is mine.

Her sexuality redefined, her desires redirected - she is mine. I walk barefoot through the oasis of her mind...picking the flowers of her hopes, collecting her dreams - for they are mine. All mine. She is mine

Where It All Starts

Between the lines
Is where it all starts;
Watching her hands move
Watching the dropping of her eyelashes
the tilt of her eyebrows

The pauses
When she stops to arrange
her thoughts

And I can only gaze
Stupefied,
Hanging onto the silence
Before her next------ word

A Part Of Me

Giving you a part of me
My heart exposed
The need to touch
Sweet caresses linger
Eyes meet lips taste
Whispers of love
Desire fills the air
Passion igniting flames
Heat swallowing you whole
Branding your soul
As I breathe
My love into you

Spotlighting: It's Fine Today

I thought I'd start a new feature here and spotlight poems that inspire me, move me, or that I connect with on a deeper level in one way or another. Considering my mood the past couple of days, this one struck a chord with me. I like the flow, the dialect is so similar to the way I really speak, and the message is a message of appreciation for the present moment.

Sure, this world is full of trouble-
I ain't said it ain't.
Lord, I've had enough and double
Reason for complaint;
Rain and storm have come to fret me,
Skies are often gray;
Thorns and brambles have beset me
On the road - but say,
Ain't it fine today?

What's the use of always weepin',
Making trouble last?
What's the use of always keepin'
Thinkin' of the past?
Each must have his tribulation -
Water with his wine;
Life, it ain't no celebration,
Trouble? - I've had mine -
But today is fine!

It's today that I am livin',
Not a month ago.
Havin'; losin'; takin'; givin';
As time wills it so.
Yesterday a cloud of sorrow
Fell across the way,
It may rain again tomorrow,
It may rain - but say,
Ain't it fine today?

By Douglas Malloch

Tortured Words

Sometimes I like to torture words

with obscene acts to nouns and verbs.

I tie them up in sentences

and whip them till they make no sense.

I love the screams of prepositions

while pulling them in odd positions;

and conjunctions make a lovely din

when decapitated by my pen.

I bind the wrists of adjectives

just for the pleasure that it gives

and adverbs leave me hot and bothered

once their meaning is uncovered.

Interjections beg for release

with pronouns trembling on their knees.

And once my fiendish work is done,

you'll find that I have just begun

my scheme to try and make you see

it's not perverse - it's poetry.