In the throes of death take my last breath;
Inhale me for once last time before I see my mother’s eyes;
Exhale me in white starlight under a red sky.
Kiss me; let your tears fall on my face and become mine.
Before I touch heaven’s twelve gates, let us dine
And commune in intimacy divine one last time;
Let me see clearly the radiance of your countenance
And adore the ethereal beauty of your eyes.
I ascend on the wings of the mighty archangels passing the sun
To the higher heights where the world begun.
Tag: Writing
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Fall winds blow against faces of sorrow;
In unsightly agony the beautiful wail in peaceful meadows;
Archangels glow and the peace that follows;
Heaven’s showers fall on parched weeping willows;
Blue starlight graces streams that quietly flow;
A child is conceived under the mighty cover of redwood trees;
The dead inside let out a loud cry and begin to breathe;
Children of the night discover flowers made of white diamonds;
Magical trees shed golden leaves.
Whale mothers lovingly whisper to their calves in night seas;
The earth sings her song beautifully to the listening pleasure of the galaxies;
Adonis is resurrected and blows a kiss to Aphrodite;
Hannibal seeks redemption and marches on Rome with reignited armies;
A Lunar Eclipse causes the kings of the earth to weep Uninhibitedly;
A crown and scepter is given to the once downtrodden and lowly;
Mothers of slain sons see them again in glory;
Souls long to ascend in the anticipation of the opening
Of the beautiful twelve gates of heaven.
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They fall like leaves violently shaken from towering trees.
They die young with unrealized dreams.
The grieving look upon their countenance for the last time,
And the die is cast in their memory.
The old clutch rosaries, and the young weep silently;
They are loved—forever captured in their beauty. -
I loved you, but you didn’t love me. Me eyes deceived me, and my heart kept it from me. It wasn’t until the day I drowned in my despair and you stood and watched me coldly without a care—that I knew. Your misandry escaped me; in my agony I lamented that you presented your true self to me not so subtly—but in that stark revelation, were the cornerstones of my salvation. In my heart your name became a byword for treachery and indifference. The lacerations of my emotions were for so long revealed in every sentence. I release myself from you. I purge you from my system. Truly, physically you are beautiful, but your heart is poison. I understand now that you are who you are, and have been from your inception. I do not seek your approval; I have no want nor need of your acceptance. Unawares, you drown and are consumed in your own uninhibited wantonness. Upon hearing the news of your inevitable imbroglio, I will be dispassionate and listless.
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In my indecision guide me
In my weakness strengthen me
In my hour of despair comfort me
In my quandary vindicate me
In my loneliness be with me
In my dreams whisper to me
In my illness minister to me
In my depression uplift me
In my fear reassure me
In my abandonment love me -
Temper, my heart, lest you give yourself away too soon
And tell her that you love her, and that you would die for her.
Preserve the mystery, do not give your secrets away so quickly;
Do not cast aside the cloak that covers your desires.
Hold back your true feelings until it is the right time;
Perhaps with rose petals scattered on white linen tables
Furnished with delicious entrees and Riesling wine.
Be careful not to startle her mid sentence with talk of
Falling in love and adherence;
Your words must be delivered as smoothly as silk
in the truth of forthrightness.
Talk of long held feelings, and compliment her beauty
At least twice during the evening;
Preferably, in the beginning, and at the end tell her again.
Do not be sheepish in your approach;
Draw out of her words she might not normally convey,
But do it tactfully and respectfully.
Remember she is a flower and must be handled delicately.
Inquire about her family and ask her about her favorite recipe;
Speak to her lovingly, and infer that you see her in your destiny.
Finally, be humorous, and in the tone of her laughter
Seek the secrets of her soul and the substance of her beauty;
Caress her with reassuring words that appeal to her feminine sensitivity.
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Black waterfalls flow over brown contours
That cover the inlets of her spine;
The moon’s light shines on shimmering skin
In gorgeous twilight divine;
Her eyes are the mysteries of
One hundred thousand years;
Her mind is the intricacy of laughter
And the sorrow of tears.
Diamond chandelier earrings shadow the
Femininity of her neck;
Her own natural beauty is the essence of her adornment.
Her lips are the softness of honey butter,
And the sweetness of strawberry nectar.
Her beauty is the delicacy of the petals
Of burgundy rose flowers.
At the bottom of the depths of her soul
Are sweet and peaceful waters;
From her inception she was a shining star
Among many daughters.
Her undying love is the core of her being,
Surpassing the superficial and transcending
Into the ethereal realm.
None were created like her on the earth
Or under the heavens.
Many men desire to draw
From the depths of her water;
She was born in the winter with a heart of fire,
And is the obsession of secret desires. -
From brown eyes spilled tears, and in the blood that ran, was love, courage, hope, anger, passion and the sorrow of many years. In the throes of death, what words are spoken in the last moments of breath? The last tears that fall are the essence of the preciousness of her soul. Heaven knows the injustice that will follow; heaven knows that the words from the executioners foul breath will ring hollow. The slaying of black innocence is rarely recompensed. An accounting for the shedding of blood is seldom witnessed. What then of the heavens? Do we not fervently cry out for vengeance? Do we not cast ourselves on the alter of justice and weep in sincerity and reverence? They feign solidarity with us, yet within the blinking of an eye they would unjustly kill us; their words are meaningless and their souls, dark and cancerous. Behold, the face of the slain. Let us look upon the countenance of an angel one last time and kiss her, before the world uses her name in vain, and with prejudiced disdain, dismiss her. Her memory now lives in us, and we are its keeper; we will not relent. We will not falter. Her soul dwells in celestial light forever, and with a crown of rose gold adorned with white diamonds, she smiles in her beauty and walks the vast halls of her fathers.
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Starlight bathes you Moonlight covers you Sunlight embraces you Polaris guides you My aura is drawn to you My heart belongs to you My soul loves you Silk drapes on you Diamonds adorn you Love radiates from you The universe cradles you -
The lust of my wayward thoughts set me adrift on the waters of intense intimacy and unfettered sensuality. I want you uninhibitedly; I want you to want me with primal instincts, holding back nothing, reacting to waves of movements with no time to think. Whisper to me the secret lusts of your desire; do not temper your spirit—release your fire. Look into my eyes intently when you reach your climax; do not hold back; we are wild roses in our flourishing. You belonged to another, so I’ve waited eight seasons now to satisfy my longing. I want you totally; you are my predilection. The scent of you alone moves me to pleasure. Let us spend beautiful evenings in a canopy bed surrounded by white lights and white roses. Let us enjoy the textures and colors of beautiful silks and vintage quilts. You are the passion of my heart; I render to you all that I am and all that I have. I love you with a definition not yet discovered or written. The literature of my spirit are writings of you filled with love, passion and eroticism. The subtle beauty of you are the undertones of a queen draped in purple silk over a golden throne flowing. I marvel at the softness of your skin and its beautiful tone shimmering. Oh, that I should be so fortunate to witness the beautiful sounds of your rapture! The contours of your silhouette alone hold me in your capture. We are two blue fires who have finally come together. My desire for you is obvious in my approach. I touch you with emotions overflowing; in my overtness I reveal long hidden steps leading to the depths of my soul. You touch and see the parts of me that for so long have remained untold.
Intimate Compositions 