Erotic shadows move in silent ecstasy.
If only walls could speak and tell of what they see.
White lights highlight motions of passion;
The figures on the wall move fluidly,
As if in a coordinated ballet of sensuality.
In rhythmic fashion they move fast, and then slowly;
If only walls could hear the exchanges of intimate whispers
And untamed screams of ecstasy—
Still, they keep long records of unrestricted pleasure
Of lovers in secret diaries.
Category: Poetry
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She dances to expel the pain,
her fingers moving in motion
through the air delicately.
Though her heart aches, she will not break;
There is a wondrous beauty
in her fragility.
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In euphoric tones I hear you speak to me;
In intimate whispers you let go,
And reveal your long hidden intricacies.
In your loud passionate release,
You cannot lie.
Your intensity immerses me in the depths of you.
I bathe in the sounds of your ecstasy.
I Listen intently, to capture the rare pieces of you;
My souls screams.You intrigue me in mystery.
I adore you in wonderful simplicity;
Like when your hair is pulled up as you lather yourself gracefully,
Or how your blue silk robe seductively moves against your body.
In my love for you, I give you all that is within me.
The scent of your perfume is floral and heavenly.
To capture your essence, I kiss you,
And hold onto you tightly. -
Oh the emotions that surface
when affectionate fingers
caress still faces in memorable pictures.
Scented candles are lit; tears run after heartfelt kisses.
She lies down, her hair sprawled on white linen in darkness.
If only the dead could hear beautiful utterances
and loving whispers. -
The Crow takes the stage and caws;
After an uneasy silence within a long pause,
The crowd erupts with shouts of adulation
And thunderous applause.
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The scent of her is so familiar;
A particularly wonderful French perfume
Gracefully sprayed over a matching vintage dusting powder.
Bath oils cause her soft skin to shimmer;
A deep inhale.
A passionate kiss.
Sweet words are spoken from passionate lips.
A seductive whisper;
The heart beats faster.
Another kiss,
Then 3 AM euphoria. -
Through subtle looks of longing I hold on to you.
Through delicate movements, I approach you in measured passion.
The tones of you are like vast fields of fuchsia flowers
Accented with white gardenias.
On lush green pastures heaven’s rain falls in ultramarine blue.
The balance of our intimacy is a precise ballet,
With beautiful silk ribbons and lace embroidery;
The silhouette of your neck captures the essence of your femininity.
Chandelier earrings compliment your dress like large raindrops
That fall gracefully over the tall lights of New York City.
I fall; I fall without inhibitions, releasing all my love to you, willingly.
I fall without fear, because I know the depths of you will save me.
In your immersion, the waves of you wash over me.
I give to you every part of me, yet I am not empty,
For it is your love that … -
Shattered innocence becomes the blood of vengeance.
Ruthless utterances long to escape the long held silence.
The days of mercy wane for hidden monsters;
The infliction of pain at their hands, will never be forgotten.
They will stand in the congregation of their victims,
And give an accounting.
Gleeful hearts will savor the hour of their sentencing;
Justice will be immediate; there will be no pardon.
Pleas for leniency will fall on deaf ears,
Because of the walls that wept, the screams, the torment,
And the children’s tears. -
On that night she said to me, if it should come for me, remember me, not through an overthought eulogy, or even your last moments with me, but instead, me kissing you, and you holding me tightly, without fear, right before our transcendence of ecstasy; and in my grave concern, I made several inquiries as to what could ever take her away from me, and her only words were, promise me. But I cried incessantly, and in my weeping, she comforted me, touching me warmly, as her hair fell and brushed against me; and I held her, and kissed her, and with her body in my embrace, I talked to her lovingly, and said, baby, whatever it may be that comes for you, will also have to come for me.
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Fall trees finally shed all of their leaves,
Vastly displaying their unabashed nakedness;
What was once a settling rustling, now marks a strange silence.
Branches move to and fro as if they were marionettes;
The winds blow and cause them to dance,
Like a ballerina adorned with a diamond tiara, in beautiful snowfall,
Under a midwinter’s trance.
Intimate Compositions 