I woke up with the sun
Only to find no beauty in it's rising.
Instead I feel its fire
Burning in my chest
Reminding me
There is no beauty
Greater than the rise and fall of your chest beside me
Rhythmically meditative
Calming a beast caged inside my heart
I put pen to paper
Only to find no words in the writing
Instead I speak the words
Letting them pass through me
Reminding me
There is no declaration
Greater than the act of touching your lips with mine
Passionately conjoining
Filling a hole inside me that I never knew existed
I swallowed a pill
Only to find no healing in its medicine
Instead I feel its robbery
Twisting and changing my very essence
Reminding me
There is no healing
Greater than your embrace
Lovingly protecting
Saving me from the demons of my own soul
I built a house
Only to find no shelter under its roof
Instead I feel caged in its walls
Leaving nothing but captivity in perpetuity
Reminding me
There is no home
Greater than the place in your heart where I live
Pleasantly enclosing
Reminding me I am never alone
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Showing posts with label Adonis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adonis. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Life is But a Dream (Draft)
I can feel my heart thudding in my chest
I don't know if it's the drugs or the passion;
Either way it burns in my chest and pulses in my ears like bass at a rave
Sitting here now, with full intent to write it all down, get it all out,
Exploding in familiar loquacious ejaculation making the mind
As spent as the body
Sitting here now, the words won't come because the cum already came
So I write uncensored and unfettered
Far above your mortgage
and your car
and your bank
and your politics
and your chemicals
and your your war
and your death
Floating on a stream of consciousness
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is but a dream
I don't know if it's the drugs or the passion;
Either way it burns in my chest and pulses in my ears like bass at a rave
Sitting here now, with full intent to write it all down, get it all out,
Exploding in familiar loquacious ejaculation making the mind
As spent as the body
Sitting here now, the words won't come because the cum already came
So I write uncensored and unfettered
Far above your mortgage
and your car
and your bank
and your politics
and your chemicals
and your your war
and your death
Floating on a stream of consciousness
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is but a dream
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
The Champion, The Prince and The Adonis
The lowly poet.
Locked in contest with a Dark God, A Shadow Prince and the Potential of What's to Come. Each vying for the heart of a muse; a God of fiery conviction who's eyes pierce the soul.
"The heart is infinite," says he, "With waters warm and calm. Come inside my loves, be safe and feel loved."
His promise, a bold commitment, befitting his bold gladiators. Locked in combat with one another and themselves, he addresses one and all.
"My Shadowy Prince, come inside." he says, with arms open.
The Shadow Prince vanishes; enveloped, merged with another darkness until his unique beauty is diluted and he can hear the God no more.
"My Dark Adonis, come to me and rule with love, by my side always."
The Adonis turns away, unable to see through his own dark visions to the light of the love he's being offered.
His Conviction still fiery, yet his eyes now masked with the sadness of loss, he turns next to the poet.
"What of you, my lowly poet?" he asks, "I can see your heart and it is empty and broken. Will you come to me and accept this gift I have offered?"
"My God, I am humbled by your offer. Such is your beauty that I could write a million verses speaking its value and not yet be worthy of it. What place have I, amongst Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes?" says he, eyes cast to the dirt.
"Come to me then, my love," he beckons him, "Come and be my champion of the Broken Hearted. A Champion must surely deserve the same as Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes."
"My God, I bow before your generosity, but I fear that I am but a plaything to one as beautiful as you. A contrived distraction to be enjoyed until you grow weary of my artist's heart." came the soft reply.
"My Champion," she says, "Your words hurt me. The heart is infinite. As you can create a million verses, so can I find a million ways to love you, a dark God and a Shadow Prince; all equally, each never replacing the other."
"God, I am humbled to be at your side and I feel safe and complete with my artist's heart inside yours."
Joining with the God, as Champion, this Lowly Poet looks down on a Dark Adonis blinded by the night and a Shadow Prince lost to the dark. In the milieau of pain and loss, what can be seen now, is the potential of What's to Come for the Champion and the God.
"What of that?" the Champion says, pointing toward new Potential.
The God only smiles.
"Come to me," he beckons it, "The heart is infinite"
Locked in contest with a Dark God, A Shadow Prince and the Potential of What's to Come. Each vying for the heart of a muse; a God of fiery conviction who's eyes pierce the soul.
"The heart is infinite," says he, "With waters warm and calm. Come inside my loves, be safe and feel loved."
His promise, a bold commitment, befitting his bold gladiators. Locked in combat with one another and themselves, he addresses one and all.
"My Shadowy Prince, come inside." he says, with arms open.
The Shadow Prince vanishes; enveloped, merged with another darkness until his unique beauty is diluted and he can hear the God no more.
"My Dark Adonis, come to me and rule with love, by my side always."
The Adonis turns away, unable to see through his own dark visions to the light of the love he's being offered.
His Conviction still fiery, yet his eyes now masked with the sadness of loss, he turns next to the poet.
"What of you, my lowly poet?" he asks, "I can see your heart and it is empty and broken. Will you come to me and accept this gift I have offered?"
"My God, I am humbled by your offer. Such is your beauty that I could write a million verses speaking its value and not yet be worthy of it. What place have I, amongst Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes?" says he, eyes cast to the dirt.
"Come to me then, my love," he beckons him, "Come and be my champion of the Broken Hearted. A Champion must surely deserve the same as Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes."
"My God, I bow before your generosity, but I fear that I am but a plaything to one as beautiful as you. A contrived distraction to be enjoyed until you grow weary of my artist's heart." came the soft reply.
"My Champion," she says, "Your words hurt me. The heart is infinite. As you can create a million verses, so can I find a million ways to love you, a dark God and a Shadow Prince; all equally, each never replacing the other."
"God, I am humbled to be at your side and I feel safe and complete with my artist's heart inside yours."
Joining with the God, as Champion, this Lowly Poet looks down on a Dark Adonis blinded by the night and a Shadow Prince lost to the dark. In the milieau of pain and loss, what can be seen now, is the potential of What's to Come for the Champion and the God.
"What of that?" the Champion says, pointing toward new Potential.
The God only smiles.
"Come to me," he beckons it, "The heart is infinite"
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