Category: Poetry

Ink Pen

Writing-freelancer

Dear Ink Pen,

No, just listen.

I want your lips

nestled

against the collar bone

Of this page

I don’t care that people do not hand-write anymore

I need you

nibbling at history

and touching passions

I desire your soul

pressed hard against my fingers

I need you

touching minds

and resurrecting souls

In private places

Let your hands roam their computer screens

Kissing the interior of their hearts

Freeing the thoughts of men

Leave us naked with hope

Vulnerable

And open with the desire

For your nose against the nape of our necks

Let us drink of the truth dripping from your mouth

The taste of light lingering on your breath

But first I need you

Your lips

Nestled

Ball pointed

Against the collar bone

Of this page.

Yes, that’s it.

Now

touch them.

Consequence of a Lonely Heart

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The thought arose midnight

somewhere between

the witching hours of deception

and the sparkling thighs

that rubbed away

what was left

of her common sense.

Ignoring the blanket stretch of solitude

reaching for the sweat

dripping from the threads of her hands

the thirst of her shadow

descending from the heavens like an angel

waiting for her to open herself up

so that the incarceration of her heart

can be weighed against the gold of her patience

she could not have been less wise

than to let deception

play its numbers on her skin

like melting pearls

sliding down the creases of a well-worn backbone

that she traded in for a brief moment

of Black Orchard or Issey Miyake cologne

though neither could wash away the shame

to which lust had gifted her thoughts

and the rose petals aligning the secret bath

to which she has mixed in her cup of distorted priorities

only smelled of death

in becoming another

she failed

to become herself

Writer’s Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge – The Light

For this weeks episode of Writer’s Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge, as hosted by Ronovan of Ronovan Writes and Colleen of Silver Threading, I am inspired by the wisdom of Jimi Hendricks. I have decided (obviously) to use today’s theme “Wisdom” and have written also a poem to accompany today’s quote titled, “The Light”.

jimihendrix

 

“Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens”

― Jimi Hendrix

 

 

The Light

Ain’t nobody got time
For the sun
Got no time to be spendin
Burning hands
And fingertips
Reaching for the light
Everybody got an opinion
Tongues itch in the dark
And unfold like ancient paper
Because everybody knows
And yet no one listens
For the language of the sun
Everyone thirsts
But no one drinks
Everyone speaks
But no one thinks
Cause ain’t nobody got time
For the sun
Got no time to be spending
Burning hands
And fingertips
And tongues
On the sun
On the truth
On the light

************

Writer’s Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge

We Can Move Mountains

Huge mountains
and great hills
they tower above our heads
like father’s to sons
the intimidating weight
of experience
to our youth
like a mother’s instruction
heavy with discipline
is the carved stone
the frightening rock
but it is true
we can move mountains
if we tried
if we faith-ed
one pebble at a time
one pen to a rhyme
one stuttering syllable
and leaking ink
we scatter mustard seeds
and stumbling blocks
like children at play
except
there are no toys
no plastic dolls
or wind up cars
just similes
and metaphors
passing pebbles
and conquering mountains

She was not a poet

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No one told her she was supposed to taste the lyrics first
That her brain was supposed to decipher the intent of melody
before it escaped her mouth
That her taste buds were supposed to burst forth
before she spit them out
She had no aspiration that we should admire
Never attended a poet’s university
Or danced between the poetic techniques they said would enhance the skill
Did not feel the irony of brilliantly untalented brush upon her skin
Did not notice the personification walk away with simile and metaphor
Did not know what all these terms were for
For
She was not
A
Poet.
Did not understand Dickinson’s Train
Why it lapped the miles,
And licked the valleys up,
And stopped to feed itself at tanks
Or why frost stood still and stopped the sound of feet
No one warned her that imagination was supposed to pass on information
about the sweet, sour, salty and bitter substances of alliterations
and internal rhyme schemes
but she fell head first in love with the way the words moved around in her mouth
with the way her emotions tickled against the backdrop of her heart
with the filled something that racked against the torn cells of her tongue
with the calm that sprayed peace into the air
with the poetry that took her there
so she sang
sang poetry with all of the ignorance stomping around in her stomach
but she sang
did not care about its government name
did not worry about its image
did not care that her words were not professional enough
for she
was not
a
poet…

Love Poem

love-couple

Wanted to jump into memory
and photograph pieces
of your smile
the only cracks worth seeing
on someone’s face
Didn’t know dimples ran deeper than wells
but every time you chuckled
my nerves melted underneath my skin
Is this
Is it real?
Could the pull of the wind
be the yearning for your laughter?
That always fell like diamonds at the base of my feet
Could someone tell me how a poor woman
becomes rich again?
For I knelt before history
and shackled your existence to my future
and when you laughed
The moon was missing that night
cuz I held it in your gaze
And the sun dripped hot from the gaps in my fingers
Cupped your chin gently against my palms
And when we kissed
Heaven cracked open its skies
and thunder praised our union

Writer’s Quote Wednesday – “Passing Pebbles”

Welcome back to another episode of Writer’s Quote Wednesday as hosted by Colleen of Silver Threading and Ronovan of Ronovan Writes. It feels good to be back I must say. In my country voice “How yall?”

It also appears I have returned to a new challenge! Here are the new rules:

Each week we will include a theme for anyone who needs additional inspiration. You don’t have to follow our theme if you don’t want to. It is optional.

In fact, Ronovan and I will alternate each week with a themed prompt post written on Silver Threading. This will give you a different perspective weekly to keep your inspiration flowing. Make sure and join us. You never know what we will come up with!

So what do you do?

You select a quote that inspires you. Then, write a short piece of flash fiction or poetry to share with us all using the quote either in your story or as the title of your masterpiece. You can include photos, photo quotes, or anything else that helps to highlight your quote. – Colleen

****************

Sounds exciting!

My writer’s inspiration today comes from an unknown author. I have decided to include a poem with my quote:

image

Huge mountains
and great hills
They tower above our heads
Like mothers to sons
The intimidating weight
Of experience
To our youth
Like a father’s instruction
Heavy with discipline
Is the carved stone
The frightening rock
But it is true
We can move mountains
If we tried
If we faith-ed
One pebble at a time
One pen to a rhyme
One stuttering syllable
And leaking ink
We scatter stumbling blocks
Like children at play
Except
There are no toys
No plastic dolls
Or wind up cars
Just similes
And metaphors
passing pebbles
And conquering mountains

***********

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And that’s it for my contribution to Writer’s Quote Wednesday New Challenge Edition.