A question of love.

Should I hold you to my soul?
The part that is holier than the most of me
That is not bound by the accordance of properties
As it drifts past the Kali-for-nia horizon
Genuflecting before divinity
I would have you there
After I consumed the fire of you
For nothing more can placate this one
Drawing nigh that which is you, or another
Blurring the lines of reason
And all about there are subtleties
And things that should be
Yet, it all seems antiquated
Though suspicions would have me think ordained
Or maybe it is not that at all
But do I love you enough to contemplate infinity
Whilst brevity seeks a commission
And do the simplicities of our union hold a truth
That would conjure an ethereal lucidity
Driving you deep into the somewhere, that is part of me

I was just shoe shopping online. All is right with the world now that www.zappos.com exist. Can I hear it for shoes?

Stiletto

My feet slide into fashionable attire
Snug, almost too
Burlesque queens
My arches peer over in seduction
Titillating onlookers
Angling my ankles into a cool, jive position
Ready to capitalize on the rhythm of…
Come hither
Where my thighs would utilize and comprise
Along with my hips that move to mesmerize
The song of the stiletto
Which is neither whored nor pimped on these delectable feet
But wrapped in a measure of its own unique beat
And then sometimes these four inch spikes move into a position that is undeniably lethal

The rose

What in strange moments can bring this rose, weeping
Softening the thorns, its beauty diminished by each flow
Sun wilted upon dewy breath it pleads before God,
Seeking refuge within your hands
To have such lips upon its essence
Shall stop the death of the endless weeping
Surreal the time that mounts between each caress
Where the rose lingers from lack of keeping
Always silent, always weeping

Red rose in winter

It shunted the cool day temperatures
The night's deep freeze
And all about the sky grew hazy
Eliminating stars and spheres
Soft the white would come with jagged edges
Covertly designed to hinder its life
And rose, rooted deeply, sighed
As the white became an ocean
Covering daffodils, geraniums, lilacs and all
The master oak yawned
Closing its eyes for winter sleep
And the willow naked from trunk up, settled in
The rose, contemplated
With thorns, down through the now frozen soil
To spiraling texture of its roots
And though the wind howled and the blanket grew thicker
It mustered a bloom, scarlet red
To honor, passed the overtaken sky
The bleakness of the frigid air, to the heavens
Where angels never sleep, and God is held in reverence
And so the bloom prayed while all slept
Silently, before the glory of God

Loving you

You are that moment for me
That instant when all things become boundless
Where I forget all motions I created in singularity
A place of peace
Where not only are you reflected in the depth of my eyes
But in the providence of my heart
And all is so ready for the likes of you
Even passion, where I grab its mane
Riding it through the lush fields that migrate through your mind
Sending charges to the beats and flows that sustain me
As if my pulse never had a reason before our synchronicity
I am beyond me, in you
A plea fulfilled in the curvature of your smile
And all that would have damned me, leaves
As pure our union, where grace speaks
The fabric of God; love, I feel
And now I am not reminded, but renewed
In soft layers of things seek(ed) and found
This not an avenue, but life most fulfilled
And most treasured, loving you

Comfort

Soon...
Beneath the autumn, fallen leaves
Nearer the every widening branches
And drooping persona of mister willow
Down by the old railroad tracks and blue house
Back behind the aged rock, covered in moss
That lingers near a small stream
I shall lay my head to dream
And it would only seem to be for many seasons
As a light drizzle comes to greet
And cover me with its absolute expression
Sheeting, ground and flesh with the sparkle of wet
As I sleep, I do see somewhere...
It knows me, this place
It shakes the ground of clover
And as I grin it covers me
From my bare toes to the tender curve of my neck
And I feel warm as it breathes upon me
In sleep I see that which should compel a deep exhale
For it is beyond my making
And I can rest in the slender fingers of God's hand
This place of somewhere, nearer to the omnipotent
That drips his creation delicately on my soul
On the forever, green grass of my dreams

The land of NOT

Admittedly, this is not a masterpiece; I can't stop thinking about junk food (big, silly laugh).


Imagine a candy crop
With deliciously scented fancy drops
That crush between your childhood toes
Where the weight would make the cotton candy float
Towards licorice strips that seem to breathe
With ease
Where friends would meet to taste the treats
Somewhere down by the stream
That seemed effervescent to the touch
Where neon blasted colored fish host
The trees that linger by the side
And swing icicle taffy to the cries
Of chocolate covered vanilla ice-cream
That dreams
Of seasons filled with marmalade
And fudge birds that sing the crème de la
Through marshmallow clouds that melt when hot
Above the gooey grass that drops
The celebrated spicy hot
That tickles the tongue
And brings you back to the land of NOT