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Monthly Archives: September 2017

The Question Of A Smile

With your hand holding mine,

should my heart e’er be amiss

to that penetrating sensation

when our hearts do acquiesce;

save not your sworn tenderness,

spare none for a distant time;

for this moment shall not pass

without my absolute abeyance,

that to your lead, shall my path

befall to its wanton overture;

and if I were to lend myself,

quite casually and sedate,

to a sincere, heart-worn,

and most devoted smile,

eagerly sent your way,

and thus, too, perhaps,

with mischevious motive;

in an effort to sustain,

or, at the very least,

to accompany, as such,

the silence and stillness,

which lay so pleasurably

in the liquid of your eyes;

you might then, with wan,

conjure up the summer,

when our hands were held,

when our flesh was warm,

and made unfathomable

by either sun or moon,

as each would ply upon us;

entwined desire, as we were,

consumed in brave manner,

by that ecstasy which held us,

and for so long, sustained us,

in its bosom, or upon its bed;

you might then reply in kind,

with similar smile and gaze,

your fond acquiescence,

unquestioned and untamed;

and by that smile, made clear,

would all doubt be removed,

as we would be then assured,

both for our flesh and our souls,

our hearts have but one voice;

and any question of a smile

would always have answer.

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Posted by on September 22, 2017 in My Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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My Worded Bed

Quiet this mind, ‘ere I cannot percieve;
sort these words which clutter my head,
as disarrayed thoughts cause me grieve,
’tis such, I cannot feel my worded bed.

O’, shameless, flagrant, worded whore;
this mind, in youth, had but to dream,
yet now but scathed, no less, no more,
‘ere I should but try, as much as seem.

Still, these strains of chaos surround;
that words cannot paint what eyes see,
‘ere thoughts unchained do yet abound,
but let them thrive as they seem to me.

I am, but words, the sum of all things;
‘ere I have been, what I have known,
such life comes, untamed, and stings,
but worded bed gives this mind home.

 
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Posted by on September 5, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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