I give myself to you wholly and totally
With my scars, faults, and beauty.
Take all of me and love me,
Or reject me utterly in my vulnerability.
Tag: Beauty
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For so long I held on,
my tightened grip—
a surety that I would not slip.
You came and held onto me as I wept,
and talked to me with love,
through gentle breaths.
To convince me to release,
you guided me step by step;
in my apprehension
I feared my descension,
but you promised to be my protection.
The torment of my soul
was my vulnerability,
still, I closed my eyes and let go;
you caught me,
and I finally breathed deeply.
In my descent into your loving arms, I fell freely.
In my release, you became my peace.
I kept falling—
and love is what I fell in. -
She is a goddess, once broken.
Celestial stars crown her in twilight;
The fire of her passion illuminates the naked night.
Through the vehemence of her eyes, see her.
The delicateness of her is unchanged;
Though strong winds blow against her,
Her scepter and crown remain. -
Standing in front of the mirror,
for a long time, she stared at herself
and began to remove the facade—
slowly peeling off all of the layers;
at the foundation she made a breathtaking revelation
as she wept, beholding a being
that was a divine creation,
exuding magnificence and
angelic light with every breath. -
A diamond sun shines its light on a fuchsia river
flowing flawlessly infused with pixie dust
and ghosts of kings past, with golden chariots.
The stars connect and form a mighty circle,
crowning the earth, for the giving of herself,
and for the miracles of her birth.
Joyous tears of archangels fall, causing
fallen trees to be resurrected and restored tall.
The crippled, and elderly near death, get up and walk.
Fetuses in their amniotic sacs begin to talk.
Mothers of slain sons cry no more,
for they see them in celestial bodies,
adorned in white, with golden crowns at heaven’s door.
The blood of the innocent are recompensed,
and evil doers are tried and sentenced;
The North Star is recognized because she is a guide,
and heard the wailing of many slaves
that fled on the nights she gave her light.
Terminally ill children, grow white wings
and begin to beautifully sing of their healing;
The blind regain their sight. -
She freed herself, letting her soul take flight;
Uninhibitedly, she danced,
Moving gracefully in the twilight. -
Lonnie Liston Smith – A Garden of Peace
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The compositions of my life are arranged in three passionate movements.
The orchestra plays beautifully; the lead violinist weeps with tears,
Falling on the varnished wood and the strings of his instrument.
After the performance, in stillness the crowd sits,
And after a long pause, they stand and clap to break their silence.
Heaven’s Poet Laureate writes sonnets that tell of agony, love, and death;
And of how he turned his face and wept when she took her last breath.
It was three words she spoke before she left,
And a child went home and stood in the room where she slept,
To catch her aura, and to take a part of her to place in his heart,
Where until this day it is protected and kept.
The orchestra plays again; the first movement — a sonata.
At the end, the lead violinist bows with tears
And blows a kiss as he remembers her. -
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 … -
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.
Intimate Compositions 