The breath of your whispers are a taste of the essence of your being;
I deeply inhale you, and I am addicted.
My will is to thoroughly please you …
In my sensual approach I am uninhibited.
Your moans of pleasure are an erotic measure,
Telling me subtly the carnal necessities of your body;
I am an eager vessel of your delight,
Use me until my cup is poured out and completely empty.
The silent reflections after, are the moments we most remember —
Your head resting against my shoulder with your hair taken down
In wondrous beauty, like a waterfall long held back and finally released
In mid spring, under the warm rays of sunshine magnificently glistening.
Your soft kisses reinvigorate me and again stimulate my will;
I’m enthralled, and willingly with much vigor, I give my all.
The sweetness of your lips is heavenly bliss;
Let me now say, I love you, lest I am remiss.
The very nature of your aura is what I savor;
Endless days and nights I taste of your flavor,
And I am overcome with passion.
Let us lie together and immerse ourselves in love everlasting.
The femininity of the arches of your feet
Are aesthetically pleasing to the concupiscent eyes that stare;
The lust that overflows within me is palpable every time you’re near.
I reach for you, pulling back soft silk, beautified in ultramarine blue.
The warmth of my hands driving your desire,
And your Sagittarius heart submitting to anticipated pleasure.
Waves of ecstasy ensue.
Tag: Poetry
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The sorrow in our eyes that we carry
Is the rendering of our lives,
For our sorrows have been many.
We savor tranquility, for our joys are momentary.
With tears, we strive to be alive struggling to find buoyancy,
While Sinking in life’s troubled waters with hearts that are heavy.
We scream at the shore waving our arms frantically
Trying to get the attention of society;
But though they see, they turn away blindly.
We must collectivize to become our own safety,
Calmly lifting each other out of dark waters
And find warmth on the ship with healing light that sails peacefully. -
I had lost myself in you. The many pieces of me scattered over the battlefields of lost love, mixed in with jealously, nonsensical arguments, and other emotional debris. Every time you leave you take a piece of me, but I want you to remember me so I give willingly. Years go by but the ‘what ifs’ still haunt me. Was it her? Was it me, or was it we? In my eyes you are a creation of beauty. They say the destiny of the misunderstood is to be lonely. I commune with myself with past memories as my only company; the sensual whispers, deep kisses and your laughter especially. A strand of your hair found on a pillow is enough to invoke emotions in me that I would otherwise never know. Like a strong tide, you pull me to and fro; I struggle to swim and get back to shore, but upon my return the man I used be is no more. Inadvertently, you also left a piece of yourself with me as you walked out of the door. Goodbye kisses turn into final intimate experiences, and then again last words are spoken. I wait until you drive off to commence my long held weeping. Tears still flow even after the third day of mourning. To dull the pain, old numbers are called and familiar voices answer, but it’s not the same. I try to pull away from you, but seemingly we are conjoined; it was a revelation to me when I realized my heart was no longer mine. A collage of past loves adorn the wall of my heart like a gallery of fine art; each one with their own unique story, narrated with powerful oratory. If you ever need me, send for me with love, addressed, in care of my heart with the postage of white doves, sealed with a kiss and scented with the perfume I most miss.
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In-between sweet lullabies, kisses,
And seemingly sincere cries
You told me you loved me
With beautiful hazel eyes
And pacified me skillfully
With gentle lies. -
With tears, the infliction of mortality was fiercely debated.
Memories of childhood joys appeared, but familiar faces were faded.
With a mixture of hysterical laughter, murmurs, and wailing,
The final act was finally abated with a crumpled note nearby,
With a name at the end stated. -
The last words to his love were intimately spoken. The sincerity and love in his heart conveyed to her in eternal whispers. Read his last rights, he left that night immersed in the depths of her love holding hands; his warmth against her warmth in silent passion. On his body were the drops of her tears; even in death her love sustained him. She gently passed her fingers through his hair and kissed him. The marriage of souls could never be broken. The angels wept as heaven’s light received him. The violin of her soul composed a new song dedicated to the memory of many years; upon returning home indeed she did cry many tears. It is in weeping that the contents of the soul are poured out. Her love, oh her precious love, in the bed in which they slept, she reaches for him. In the cool air of the early spring, in her heart she writes letters. He is memorialized in the gleam in her eyes that truly signifies the perpetual love in her heart, for that gleam no other man could capture. He belongs to her and she belongs to him forever. The poetry of her soul are the loving utterances when in loneliness and in darkness … she calls his name. In intimate moments of her devotion she feels his hands moving gently against her body … she recollects his touch; she is moved with passion. He is neither gone nor forgotten, for he is right there with her in those moments sharing in sweet euphoria. He calls her name again and again in amorous whisper, and she hears him; the voice of her only love penetrates her consciousness and inundates her with dreams of their first kiss. Oh what a recollection of amatory! In her mind, again and again she replays their story. She is an angel in glorious beauty. She lies down next to him. His warmth holds her eternally.
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Though I do not want to, my heart still loves you,
But remnants of hatred stubbornly linger;
The in-between is my hell. -
Sunday, Jan.3, 1993
2:02 A.M. Annapolis, Maryland
Winter.Michael’s Entry:
The tears of a sorrowful man are constant and heavy. Brown eyes look up at grey skies and hope for a better tomorrow. The tears I cry are the tears of a child’s pain held back many years. I have contended with the darkness, and still I face my fears. What is to be said of past anguish and torment left untold? In a dark room a child cried and kept his pain inside. The secrecy of the darkness when it exposes itself is hideous in its raw truth. The ugliness of the underbelly dredge up memories that anger me. Through the eyes of a child, looking at my mother I asked God why he didn’t take us together. Many have told me not to dwell on it, but often I ponder. My sadness increases daily. I am a man in a wilderness of torment seeking an oasis of peace. It is with a heavy heart that I write; I sleep when I can, but I am up most nights. It’s been two years now since Luciana has left. I miss her; but I would never tell her. I am happy she has moved on and found the love she always wanted. I could have done things better, but maybe it’s for the best. Still, I am haunted by the ‘what-ifs.’ Two nights ago I dozed off behind the wheel and almost veered into oncoming traffic; the insomnia is taking its toll. I haven’t spoken to my family in over four years and it’s been somewhat therapeutic. Unsolicited advice from people with their own lives in shambles always irritated me. I do have a dear aunt that’s close to me, but even our relationship is strained. I’ve held things in for years but no more. In fact, I am more resolute than ever to speak my mind despite the potential for hurt feelings; of course, being as respectful as I can be as man who prides himself on etiquette. I no longer have the vigor for life I once had when I was younger. The progression of events that I experienced as a child have have largely contributed to my current state.
It’s hard living life in a constant state of agony. I think what I’ve sought all these years is understanding; someone with genuine love. Granted, sometimes I haven’t been the easiest person to be with, and I’m readily willing to admit my faults. I think the harsh reality is some people are just destined to be alone; years ago I would have never come to this conclusion, but more and more I see true love as something in fairy tales and an illusion. I have been accused of thinking negatively before, so maybe I should refrain, or maybe not. I do have a lady that I’ve been talking to recently, but I hold no hope of it developing into anything more than an acquaintanceship; her name is Stephanie. She is quite attractive, and so far her personality is genteel. The medicine my physician prescribed for my anxiety and depression are no longer effective. I have an appointment next week to address my ongoing insomnia; I’m hopeful it can be resolved in the near future. Frankly I’m dead tired, but I would rather write than look up at the ceiling. These days I find myself crying more than ever. Also, I think I’ve lost my faith in religion. I stopped praying years ago because my prayers weren’t being answered; some may say it’s because I didn’t have enough faith and maybe they’re right. It’s a topic I have to revisit but don’t feel like expounding on right now.
I’m usually responsible financially but recently I have been spending excessively on things that I think will make me happy or at least grant me reprieve from the realities of life. Yesterday I spent a shitload of money on a leather jacket I didn’t need, and I don’t fucking care; it looks good on me and I like it. Fuck it. Is my wild spending some kind of symptom of a mental breakdown? Maybe, or maybe not. I don’t know why in the hell my mind keeps forcing me to think about Luciana. I don’t want to. She’s married now, with a husband and a child on the way, last I heard. It seems everyone else around me is happy, and I am condemned to a life of forlorn and perpetual pain. I have contemplated on this very prospect for some time now and still can’t seem to reach any rational conclusion. I think of the utter darkness of the void and if there is peace to be found in it. Self reflection is a good thing generally, but I tend to dwell on things, so it’s a little different for me. I want to dream beautiful dreams and travel the world with a significant other. I want to be at peace with myself and settle my thoughts long enough to get some fucking sleep. It’s snowing outside and I like seeing the snowfall under the street light near my window; it brings a certain feeling of calmness. I think I will dust off my record player and put on, Violin Sonata in G minor (Tartini) “Devil’s Trill Sonata,” which is a favorite of mine from the Baroque period. Now will also be a good time for some herbal tea; I might as well since I’m up anyway. Goodnight, or good morning rather.
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In the millions we gather and cry together; we hold hands and sing by the banks of the river. Our stories of pain are illuminated in our eyes. We have loved, we have lost; We have endured the lonely winters. Each one of us, we bear our own cross; to each other we are healing and light. As the dark night approaches, in the dusk we again recapture the happiness of our youth. Laughter ensues; we chase butterflies as the fireflies join in our joy and light up the night’s skies. We are here; we are scarred but we are here. We commune and dine together and wipe away each others tears. We recall the hardships and joys of our many years. In a vision I see my mother and she is there. We release and the river overflows from all of our tears; we are light beings, and our redemption is near.
I have found my true love again, and as we lie together, I have rediscovered the most secret and sacred parts of her. Oh for so long I had dreamt of again being lost in you; at this gathering of the sorrowful I have again found you and poured out my heart to you. For so many winters my heart wrote you letters that can’t be heard or spoken; we have suffered, all of us, with heavy eyes we had read the vile and disparaging words the world has written of us. With mocking words they eulogize us though we still live; they seek to bury us alive and wipe our memories eternally from the face of the earth. In our deep love for one another, we have found our healing and our rebirth. Step by step through dark clouds we reach heaven’s gates; as we enter, we hold hands together. At the golden round table our banquet awaits.
Intimate Compositions 