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The Worded Mind

I am a husband and father; occupations which consume most of my life.  In my free time, however, I am a writer; this passion of mine shall constitute the majority of this blog.  Herein, you shall find a collection of my poetry and other writings.  I welcome feedback and comments, though I cannot guarantee a response.  It is enough for me that you read my words, and perhaps gain something ethereal or even spiritual in the process.

 
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Posted by on March 15, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Sonnet XXX: Of Her Kiss, Bygone

How thoughtless, in her countenance, was I,
To stain the breath of her kiss with sorrow,
When, at last, she did bear unshielded sigh,
‘Twas merely breath which hastened the morrow;
Had my breath then, without need, been exhaled,
This remorse, now burdened with passing time,
Would not have stain’d her kiss so dear assailed,
Without need then, would her joy be as mine;
But, now, with all her seasons having gone,
Am I left with no recourse to respond,
And finding no light of her coming dawn,
Shall I wait ’til her soul meets mine beyond,
When, with patience, shall I receive her kiss,
In that plane where joy would not be remiss.

 
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Posted by on April 5, 2020 in My Poetry

 

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The Romance of Memory


How my breath does stale within me,
that I am unable to whisper my desire
for even the vaguest ear to bide my way;
and like the desert wind scalds arid plane,
that my sigh should break against my lips
without a moment to purge this doldrum;
yet now the winter breeze taunts my flesh
that I have longed for a caress of soothe,
now trembling with the urgent dance of air;
my solace has emerged with break of day
and I am once more sated in vibrant breath,
at last, a starling calls, and remembers me.

 
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Posted by on November 24, 2019 in My Poetry

 

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Sonnet XXIX: Let It Play On

E’en with weakest need, shall I anon
find breath but to speak, and heart but to sigh,
for this moment’s music, let it play on;
play on and away this pallor this nigh,
that the gods may then hear my soulful song,
and burden their breath with the sweetest cry;
that, for a moment, they might sing along,
while their gaze may then mend a fractured sky;
thus, I, in my way, show both tear and smile,
that light shines upon my face, still in dawn,
that such music plays, tho’ ’tis soft a while,
so, this, in reverie, do I play on;
play on, how dulcet gone, thy breath does roll,
play on, lest e’en breath forsake thy soul.

 
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Posted by on August 30, 2019 in My Poetry

 

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Let It Be That Tears Stain

Let it be that tears stain
upon this withered flesh,
which have been borne
of some ancient burden;
unwed to the mortal cry
of a soul left strained
from an arduous weight
it had borne, unwillingly;
but rather wed in sorrow
to the loss of its spirit,
the soul that wavered
under its own weight;
that no voice shattered
the unfettered silence
with an outcry of words
of the slightest refusal;
’twas granted, as allowed,
that weight ply its need,
and unwieldy as it was,
became wholly undone;
now bereft of purpose,
this weight, ’twas shed,
with only a stain of tears
to lend credence to this.

 
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Posted by on July 27, 2019 in My Poetry

 

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Her Need Of Sigh

As were her thoughts,
wholly unattainable,
but in that moment,
and as was her mood;
tho’ now well defined,
and as she was infinite
within her methods,
I could not fathom
her seasoned want;
the need of her flesh
which only could she,
in measured moment,
express to the night;
and this, she had done,
with blissful eloquence
and unwavering grace;
and so had my eyes
fallen upon her mouth
as she spoke the words,
granting me possession
of her most tender form,
while she yet retained
only her will to breathe;
’twas this, her release,
which spoke her thoughts,
’twas unfettered candor
which dictated her need;
and as she so willingly
uttered but my name
with a dance of her lips,
so too, came the night,
as some thrall of sighs
across an open plane,
echoing in my ears
with her heated breath
falling o’er my neck;
and so she remained
in that quiet splendor
until long after the dawn
had awakened her resolve.

 
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Posted by on January 20, 2019 in My Poetry

 

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Her Desire Implied

And how then she did smile,
as was immediate, my gaze;
her contentment seethed,
and in her eyes, abandon,
as her smile then permeates;
with her own gaze imposed,
the spreading of her form
to revel, as much as reveal;
’twas her intent, this smile,
seductive, sublimely awash,
that her hands left her sides,
that her thighs were warm;
had she the intent to seduce,
or be it means to her design;
her smile could not be gaged,
nor breath fallen from her lips
be cooled by the mere distance
which was arrested between us;
I saw only desire, cast plainly,
as the wantonness of her smile,
and the closing space to follow,
as she moved in silent prayer
to her rightful place before me;
’twas her dance of submission,
as much as her desire implied.

 
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Posted by on December 3, 2018 in My Poetry

 

An Unflinching Respite

I am loathe, but ‘ere shorn,
like a mystic ancient river,
stilled, it flows no longer;
stifled by unwilling pride,
that with such providence,
may yet cause me to wither,
for youthful days of revel,
had been bereft or denied;
’til no weight lay upon me,
save but vague sigh in tow;
and e’en as told, this truth,
‘ere without mind, it seems,
would then reveal its course,
or run missive without show;
for t’was always this removed,
not in distance, but in dreams.

 
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Posted by on November 22, 2018 in My Poetry

 

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