Sweet Lust

Beneath the skin

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 19:57:00 +0000

one day, i opened my eyes
and saw veins & muscles & cells

of nameless people, unwrapped tissues
pulsing with blood & fats & dirty water-

i cast my eyes down from this sight,
for i was not ready to see beneath the skin

colored of ink & stories, i hid from everyone
as if i was a freak, too sensitive, too pained to see the aches-

i harmed myself until you knocked at my door
& suddenly i see you - bare of clothes & words - the pupils

of your eyes dilated with concern,
heartbeat ticking madly along your neck like rushing waves

gathered close, i blush to see your passion
growing and the sweat dripping on the floor

your bones are softer than i thought,
your pelvic on mine, an exquisite canvas

as you kiss me close, all my pores and glands,
open & beat to your overture, your tongue

maps a trail on my palm, speaking in a language I know -
inviting as a morning dawn

i finally see my arm, wrist and hand now,
a tree stem, carpal bones and phalanges

reaching for you, iridescent as a butterfly,
the core of you, even more beautiful than before

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Beauty is everywhere - Hosted by Fred R. ~ Thanks for the visit ~

picture credit: Adam Martinakis

Cherished

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 18:05:00 +0000

You are cherished

rose print, tucked in my memory

You are cherished

sunset, orange-framed, untarnished

as sea bore you on ivory

hands, cradled vessel…. till blurry-

You are cherished

Picture credit @ Heaven

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Form for All - Hosted by Tony M ~

Poetry form: Rondelet: This is a typical French form that uses a refrain and two rhymes. The first, third and last line are four syllables or two feet, and the four lines remaining are eight syllables or four feet. This gives a rhyme scheme of: A. b. A. a. b. b. A

Gemini

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 08 Jun 2013 15:48:00 +0000

at night, the two women
are at war with each other-

one is steeped in shadows, the moon's lover
the other is paled yellow, the sun's bride-

the first loves with a hungry stomach:
coarse grain pollen, wild honey & forest rain -

she inserts herself into every page,
spilling words on her lover's lips, darkest of plum-

the second walks, a rooted maple tree
sturdy of fisted rope, pulling to the safe harbor -

she is fazed by gravity, carved bronze as earth,
a train travelling on well-worn tracks, she hushes, hushes--

the flame, growing like a peacock from her head,
cascading electric shocks, agitated, she calls, calls--

the other, face to face in the mirror,
freckled like seeds of the same fruit-

one tugs at the navel-
the other is urging the wind to cut her
free-

Photo by Gabriel Moreno

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - The prompt is about duality (Gemini, twins, entwined Selves) hosted by Karin G. ~ Have a good weekend ~

Impossible yet....

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 06 Jun 2013 18:51:00 +0000

Perhaps the tulips

Are like a puma, silent and starving

Under the snowed-in light-

For tonight the twilight

Is cold, forgetful

Like my hands, finding things to be loved-

I search for your trail among

newspaper headlines, cut up like

-well-travelled streets-

under the pillows of hospital beds,

-breathing & opening seeds in confusion-

even in the sonnet of a classic poet-

Alas, you are nowhere to be

I stop looking

& let you come

Unbidden, the liquid measure of you

Impossible

Like beauty of a rose

Photo credit: ZOOM

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- Dada Poems with Scissors -
Words gathered from random poems and newspaper clippings.

Ripe as scarlet

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 30 May 2013 18:36:00 +0000

the morning is a faded water-
          color, silent as ivory

keys, we swim into
          until we tasted undercurrents

ripe as scarlet verses, sliding
          exquisitely down our bellies-

the tides peel our skin
          moist as tenderness-

no word is colorless
          in your eyes, cadence is you

kissing me slowly, like Sun-
          day morning, the sweetest candle-

slide your hands beneath me ,
          liquid is sky, everything is a seed-

this is how we make
         our memory

in river’s aria,
         jettisoning into the wild cosmos, the rush

cradling us -
        a birthing, or a dying of familiar things -

but oh, don't let me forget
        this moment -

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub: Putting synesthesia in Poetry - There is a neurological condition called synesthesia in which the patient confuses sensation. For example, he may taste a fragrance, or hear a flower. Have you ever touched a rainbow or seen a toccata? In poetry, synesthesia refers specifically to figurative language that includes a mixing of senses.

picture credit: tumblr.com

Song of parting

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 23 May 2013 18:37:00 +0000

May this love neither blind me nor follow me.
And may it never notice me.
May it spare me from being pursued
And from torment.

Nameless Songs:
-Brazilian poet, Hilda Hilst (1930-2004)

Come closer
You say
And I do, my face
breathing in your scent-
Put your arms
around me, You plead
and I do -
While hoping against hope -
on bended knees-
May this love neither blind me nor follow me.

For I am a wildflower
on your velvet lapel,
born to roam in the forest sky
blue as the sea
I will wilt in your little
crystal vase like a queen bee
without the vicious hive
May your gaze linger far
on tulips blooms, sweet as cherry tree -
And may it never notice me.

As I walk away
Spent from your kisses,
Burning like
fire on my lips-
bittersweet as plums.
As I glance away from your nude
desire, I pray that you forget me quickly
As one tires of a turbulent sea,
or a long winter storm, not easily subdued-
May it spare me from being pursued

And broken
Into a silky and fragrant bloom
Because your love offering
even so pure
and true
will be the death
of me, crushing my voice underfoot -
Let love pass by in anguished dissent
So I may never suffer from this enchantment-
And from torment.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- Hosted by Samuel Peralta - Your feedback/ critique is appreciated as this is my first time to write in this form.

Poetry form: Glosa - This is a poetry form from the late 14th century and was popular in the Spanish court. The introduction, the cabeza, is a quatrain quoting a well-known poem or poet. The second part is the glosa proper, expanding on the theme of the cabeza, consisting of four ten-line stanzas, with the lines of the cabeza used to conclude each stanza. Lines six and nine must rhyme with the borrowed tenth.

The chase

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 21 May 2013 16:15:00 +0000

I snuff out the candles in our room.
It is the time: a forest awaits
for a hunt, breathless, under our bare feet.
Moonlight blazes above the sky,
stormy as your eyes.

In my dream before reality,
I am the hunted wolf & you, the hunter.
You scent me better than the hounds,
grounding me, my heart beating
louder than my legs.

You take your knife, slicing
me open like an offering, our bread.
There is the taking & the giving-
as I burn, sliding down
your throat like wine, feral & heady.

Soon a heart
grows underneath my ribs. Pulses
and stretches like branches, into a tree.
My eyes hold your whispered awe,
tender as spring.

We chase
again.   But I do not let you
find me easily
  this
time.

Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub: OpenLinkNight - Every Tuesday, starting at 3 pm EST. Thanks for the visit ~

Picture credit: tumblr.com

A world away from here

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 18 May 2013 18:54:00 +0000

here, we chat about the weather-
s/he is a tease,
a bee swaying amongst spring blooms -
sweet as maple syrup / peaches / red apples -

while munching over a bagel and Timmy's coffee
and thinking of lunch menu-
biting into a subway-sandwich-
or using chopsticks/ Chinese noodles / tropical spices -

there are choices to make everyday-
and over missing deadlines or near-misses, hurls
some people to pills or crack cocaine - i hear on radio-
depression hurts / everywhere / everyone - (this puzzles me)

faraway, in another world, they gossip on politics-
s/he is a whore, plump ass, wet with thoughts of power-
buying election votes, keep the poor ignorant & helpless-
the family rules/ breaking promises / unending greed -

while sharing pan-de-sal & black coffee
and thinking of a meal, if it comes
maybe a corn, a sweet potato, a coconut
along the beach / unspoiled / forgotten gem -

when there's only two choices -
to make it for another day or be cast away
like papaya seeds on dry blackened soil -
they take the bribe money/ swallow anything- (i don't blame them)

the world spins / my heart bleeds / motherland

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics - Hosted by Kelvin S.M. - Talking about an asian experience, more like another lifetime for me ~ This is a personal write for me, Kelvin ~

picture credit: here

Of temptation

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 11 May 2013 18:53:00 +0000

take my eyes away, i'm easily swayed
like a sea with wandering feet, eager
for fresh sky, deeper blue, beyond my reach-

take my tongue away, i'm easily swept
by the wind dropping a thousand leaves
on my arms, enticing as a siren's song-

take my ears away, i'm enamored
by your sweet words, licking & nibbling
my innermost flesh, irresistible as a golden fruit-

take my hands away, i come undone
like bee-stung blooms in early spring,
eager for your warmth, golden as wild honey-

but don't take my precious gift-
-that which I gained, both good & broken-
knowledge of who i am & can be, rising after each fall,

like roots of a tree, they make me a bit stronger
& less fearful
to face temptations-

Posted for D'verse Poetry Pub - Poetics hosted by Mary

Picture credit: here

Terza Rima Sonnet: Your light

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 09 May 2013 18:21:00 +0000

I await for your return every night
across the great sea, with each stroke & breath
you swim, following the path of my light
towards my arms, scented of lilac wreath
How bold are your lips, How strong are your arms
taking me to the highest peaks on earth

Your pleas of passion, readily disarms
sun-flaming my skin, pale as crescent moon
until a storm thunders, rising alarm
casting veil of darkness, mighty waves drown
your body- cold - piercing my side, deep blight
I throw myself from the high tower, doomed-

Choosing death, for without you every night
I'm a shadow, ever searching your light

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetry form: Terza Rima Sonnet - 14 lines. I have used the following pattern: A1. b. A2... b. c. b... c. d. c... d. a. d... A1. A2.

Loosely based on the tragic love story of Hero and Leander (Greek Mythology)

Each night Leander would swim across a stretch of sea to meet his lover Hero, a priestess of Aphrodite. She would guide him by holding up a lighted torch. One night, during a storm, Leander drowned. The grief-stricken Hero threw herself from a tower. Here, the two dead lovers are shown in their tragic, final embrace.

picture credit: here

What I want to do with you

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 07 May 2013 11:00:00 +0000

Cherry Blossoms by SweetLust

suddenly, the sky is a tumult,
scattering seeds in careless abandon,
tinged of bluest devotion, abounding -

you lay on my feet
not one blushing petal nor small bud
but a thousand pink-gaping pearls blooming-

i reach to kiss your lips, softer than snow
melting my walls into a cup, opening to receive
your words, sweet & hungry as a bee-

spread my hair among the leaves, steeped
of sun and morning dew drops. drink deeply
of my fragrance, write love letters on my
skin, naked earth-

i want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.*

*Inspiration and line from Pablo Neruda : Everyday You Play

"My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub ~ Happy spring day ~

I have used this line before, but thought it fitting to post again after seeing the Japanese trees in full blooms over the weekend.

To William Shakespeare, with love

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 13:50:00 +0000

Let me say that the marriage of true minds
Admit imperfections. Love isn't absent
Which alters when alterations are needed
Or bends to retrieve the broken fragments
O no ! It's an ever-flowing canvas
That redraws the lines with each changing tide
Like roots of the trees that recast with each
Season, twisting with each wind fall & breath
Seeding like spring with each fading leaf bloom
Sparking colors when it dries like a rose
It is the starlight to every stray dove
The healing balm to a wounding word said-
And when my love is frail, let yours be firm
That I may behold you, like morning sun-

Inspired by William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken"

Today, the 23^rd of April, is the anniversary of William Shakespeare’s birth in 1564, and—52 years later—the anniversary of his death.

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Hosted by my good friend, Susan.
and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by my good friend, Brian Miller.

picture from movie: Shakespeare in Love

by the sea

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 11:20:00 +0000

the sea ricochets

shell crashing hard against rocks

like broken arrow

Reena of Missing Moments

watching the tide
crest, fall unceasingly- i allow
the past- past

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Poetry form: Lune - 3 lines of 3-5-3 words or 5-3-5 syllabic count
and Poets United

Working up an appetite

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 16:45:00 +0000

she thinks of breakfast-
turning the pancakes once in the pan,
firmly golden with melting butter and
splattered blueberries-

then coffee, steaming hot
beside orange juice & heavy maple
syrup on the small wooden table-

outside, the trees are donning
aprons, scooping each dew drop,
and prick of warming light-
eager to rouse from winter's embrace-

stirring in bedsheets,
refreshed by her sleep, she runs
her fingers lightly over his still-sleepy frame,
soft in the breathing, firm in the admiration-

she strikes a match,
rekindling faith in beginnings,
with each caress, a bud opens like spring,
seeking the rain & sky-bursting-joy-

he loves her hunger in the morning.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visits ~ I am working hard on my appetite for writing almost every day~
picture credit: here

On the first day of spring

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 18:12:00 +0000

i kiss you
on the first day of spring-
as buds unfurl its mighty colors-
as leaves carelessly fling their hats in the wind-
seizing the joy
of this moment-
the riot of bees frolicking -
the bursting of green, dapper & bold
-in the garden-
bold & dapper, this newness burst,
-frolicking, like bees in a riot-
momentous, is this
joy. seizing
hats, winded, we fling them carelessly. leaves,
of colors mightily unfurl, like buds
in spring- that day, the first time
you kissed me-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetry Form: Palindrome - Not perfect as the mirror poem but fun to do ~ Thanks Gayle ~

When spring comes

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 15:04:00 +0000

Unlatched,

spring explodes - this:

- pouring rain, river spell-

painting a canvas, oiled & dabbed,

breathless-

Unlike

any art frame

-you in me, me in you -

layered in light, grey & darkness,

curled tight-

fisted,

where the flames lick

the sheets, we love harder--

bonding -- and this is where language

fails us -

Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit -
Poetry form: cinquain (2-4-6-8-2 syllables)

Picture credit: tumbler.com

Flight

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Tue, 02 Apr 2013 18:31:00 +0000

you put this pen

in my hand & i take flight,

far away from the icy wind-

somewhere tropical,

the distance calls. thunders

along old & rusty train

tracks, running parallel

along the bend, promising

our paths will cross at

distant junction. we pull.

meeting along the

sea tide, where the sands break

the rocks into its knees. we taste

salt in our faces, our bound-

aries clinging like weeds. we push.

hungry for fullness of the

moon. you put a knife in my hand.

the horizon & walls slip away.

we cling. like missing

pieces across the white page.

Posted for: OpenLinkNight - D'verse Poets Pub - Thanks for the visit ~

Passion

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 15:11:00 +0000

Draw in my heart a simple white candle

That I may find you in the everyday-

Fallen maple leaf, a verse on Sunday

Morning, a rose bloom amidst the bramble-

Mark my footsteps to amble beside you,

Slow and fast, through the season’s twist & sway,

When the moon tide is low, sands dip & stray -

When the sun rises like a fire, be true

To your words, cast long ago in the wind,

Written in your blood, passion’s sacrifice

To behold your eyes amongst brothers, dimmed

Of sight. Lifting my kin, sacred chalice

To your lips. A spring awakening, twined

With hope that all I offer will suffice-

Written for: Poets United - Verse First: Passion ~ Happy Easter to everyone ~

and D'verse poets Pub - Miltonian (or Miltonic) sonnet - Thanks to Sam Peralta - My pattern is not perfect, but oh well ~

Picture credit: Kim Nelson

The call for the wild woman

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 23 Mar 2013 20:31:00 +0000

"Inspire Howl Wing"

Your nostrils have forgotten the chase. And the feast
that awaits in the forest. Like distant drums, beating of another march,
when the land was lush, green & & unmarked. Now, your skin
is the color of the streets, silt with oil & cement, breathing stale
& dry-

You have bent yourself, rounded smooth. And dyed
your hair, ordinary as a mouse. Except your eyes, they tell a tumult,
quiet plea. To be swept away like burning log in a river. To sink
in the deepest part of the sea. To fly. To die a thousand times
& live-

At night, the wind croons your songs. It hurts
like dirty needles, cracking a wound. The howling echoes,
like a primal dance with a lover. There is a volcano that is sleeping
in your belly. It is fiery, bold, coarse salt, wild storm. Listen
& tear away-

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sherry's Sunday's Challenge - Release Your Inner Wild Woman & Fireblossom Friday-The Crack in Everything ~ Thanks for the visit ~
Shared with Poetry Pantry

On the second day of spring

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 19:43:00 +0000

I watch the glass windows-

Streaking snowflakes, relentless

As overflowing river, bursting white rage

A cup warms my hands

Every day I pour myself into its mouth

Tulip-shaped, familiar lips, predictable as a

Spoon spinning to swirl the cream,

Its aroma rises like a tongue, fickle as a season-

Laving my skin, chilled cold

By ever-changing wind, this cup

Waits, stretching narrower & smaller

As if wanting to swallow me-

I linger on its precipice-

Thinking of leaves-

Thinking of spring-

and you-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Negative Capability

Picture credit: Artist Rosie Hardy

Again

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 14 Mar 2013 18:30:00 +0000

find me

in your fingers-

soft as a ripened peach,

musky as wild spring- and i'm yours

again

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Cinquain - Five lines of 2-4-6-8-2 syllabic count.

Picture credit: Artist Rosie Hardy

On ripe fruits

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 18:05:00 +0000

in the blender
the pared frozen fruits
thicken in its juice
a slush of faint morning dawn,
fusion of ice crystals & cream-

i pour the smoothie in my cup,
bits of tropical tang & sticky flesh
clings to the roof of my mouth-
its ripe roots, like wild honey
collect memories like seeded trees:
jazzy blues, heat/ed summer nights-

in my thick sweater & beanie,
you roll in my tongue like bitter-
sweet song -

~0~0~

the basic is an experiment--

break the cumin seeds in the oily pan,
tap a few spices, pungent & yelling of sun-
dried palms, 2x roasted --

as i count each round peach as perfect,
even with slight wrinkles & cuts -
like nature, growing ripe/old, with/out tampering--

in your hands, the sauce simmers & shudders--
i bite a chocolate piece, wishing for its
decadent sweetness

Posted for: Real Toads - Sunday's Challenge - Poets in the Kitchen - It's all about food & taste, I am hosting ~ Smiles ~

And D'verse Poets Pub - weaving these words: sauce, chocolates, hands, count, double, yells, break, basic, round, shudder (From my children)

picture credit: here

a letter of apology to my SISters

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 02 Mar 2013 19:13:00 +0000

For not RAisinG my voicE when you Are huRT

For turning MutE to demeANing jOkEs & words

I was qUiet when they called you baby, WwhorRE, bbiTCh

As if you are just breasts, legs, LiPs, ASs, a trinket, an afterthought.

I did not RAge hard enouGh, scrEaM lOUD enough

when you were abUSEd and KilLED on the side of the road.

My solemn PLea is to raisE my son to be A better man,

a son who HoNors & reSpects his motHER

will be a better fatHER to his daugHtERs, a loving man to his wife.

For if a son can KiLL his motHER in a HEARbeaT

he can Kill kILL anyone like a deMENted animal

STOP the vioLENce against woMEN.

~0~0~0~

your words
can knife a girl
sharper than thorns, breaking
mother's heart, father's pride, brother's
baby

sister --
use them like seeds --
gentle as snowflakes, white
candles for peace, not for mourning,
my son

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Today We Scream - Thanks to Susie Clevenger ~

March has been set aside by Woman Scream International Poetry Festival as the month to raise awareness through poetry about violence against women.

And D'verse Poets Pub - Short Verses - I have used a cinquain (syllabic 2-4-6-8-2) - Thanks Fred for the prompt.

A spring sonnet

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 20:05:00 +0000

The falling snowflakes are fierce this morning,
Deceivingly soft, they sting like bitter
Grapefruit on chapped lips, sharp as your absence

The room shrinks to tiny, moved by mourning
Even the wind relents as trees shiver
Like lost verses, cut from the roots, condense

Air wraps the window, milky sheen turning
Frosted glass, I trace your name in silver
Then light up the candles with sweet incense

The pages in my hands turn to saplings
Your words echo, a deep tunneled river
Reminding me to wait, with calm patience

I whisper - come soon- like spring , quivering
A thirsty bee, and I'll be a rose, unfurling

Showers of Roses

Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - Sonnet written in four tercets and a couplet. Rhyme scheme abc abc abc abc aa (or bb or cc). I welcome constructive inputs on my writing. Thanks for the visit.

Night roses

noreply@blogger.com (Heaven) — Sat, 23 Feb 2013 20:04:00 +0000

at night, red roses
shrivel like fearful poems,
afraid of slightest light & breeze -

blossoming petals
hide under bed skirts,
ashamed of bold & silky thoughts -

round leaves falter
under weight of thorny encounters,
hesitant in its footing-

lost is the fragrant
water, that oils the tongue,
sweeter than red wine & cream-

one by one, petals fall
like dead language-
& i, alone & sleep-starved,

don't remember why it is even there -

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics: Dominant Impression in Artistic Description - Hosted by Kelvin S.M. ~ Thanks for the visit ~