fitzarr:

True love requires more than being in love.

It’s true, I’m afraid. Being in love is infatuation. It is a brightly coloured cacophony of flowers, whose fragrant feelings blind and confound. It is a melding of desire into physical form. It is two saplings who glimpse each other and stretch their blossom laden-branches towards one another in a desperate need to know connection.

True love is realising that when all your blossom has fallen to the ground and not even leaves hide your truths from one another, that you have somehow entwined your roots, and are one flourishing tree.

intrepid-flickerings:

I am an accidental florist of bruises

on our lips, on our teeth.

I can’t fathom why they run around in circles like they do,

those silly people who don’t understand 

what is reality and what is not,

the honeysuckles wither at the end of summer

and flowers die at first frost 

yet we still madly try to keep them alive

but can’t save ourselves.

copyright 2012 kristen camino

rubbishbinangel:

I have scorch marks on my arms from trying to hold
The boy with the sputtering flame for a soul.
                                                 He named me Yesterday.
                                                 Carving the words into my skin with his smile.
Fingers already entwined with those
Of his new Today
                                Eyes seeking
                             A new Tomorrow.

Yesterday.
So similar to the girl he named Eternity
A day too late
                                As her parents tucked her in to sleep
                                Six feet underground.
Collar high to hide
Love bites of a home-made noose.
                                                                Bethany.
                                                                His Bethany no more.

He buried his heart there
In the dirt over Bethany’s grave.
                    In summer white heads of dandelions bloom
                    Seeds of wishes never wished. Seeds of wishes never coming true.
He ran his fingers over old stone
Her name so deep Time could never wear it away.
                                                Then he stood. Wiped fresh dirt from his knees
                                                And walked away.

No one would ever add up to Bethany.
But I came close.
                            When the lights were out he could almost believe she was me.
                            Shadows revealing the face he longed to see.

loveatthegallows:

I may not believe in god,
but I do believe in you.
Yours was the last smile
that I didn’t have to fake to give.
Effortless, the way you could
change my mood and lift me.
You were the last thought
in my head at night,
and the first when I awoke.
Your skin at the base of your neck
was shelter for my secret kisses.
At night when I could not sleep
I would place them there and whisper.
How of all the love I have ever known
of all the time I have ever spent,
being with you felt like coming home.
And even though I did not feel lost
I knew when I held you in my arms,
that I had been found.

adverevivere:

You sat against the window ledge with your heart on your sleeve,
crying into the darkness; you waited
but no one could hear.

Begging for a way out with dreams and needs,
yet no one bothered to lift you up
when you were at your most empty, starlight dripping in your eyes.

Too many ups and downs, while the world was shoving you
this way and that, forced down while I fear sometimes:
I will not be able to say I love you before you go.

Angry because you couldn’t find your way into the dark,
yet you screamed at me to let you jump and meet the concrete;
I waited for you to speak to me as the wind rushed in your ears.

Time passed and the terror subsided, knowing you were frightened;
tormented, torturous lies; deep in my throat I hated for you,
until all I knew was the power of words, some sting like bees.

Sticks and stones may break my bones yet words dig
far deeper and circumstances cut scars so much further than
that knife and the drop staring back at you, little spider scenes.

In the end you could not fit through the window,
scratches and scrapes; still
I would beg you to stay, any day. 

withkaleidascopeeyes:

Fill my heart, with endless talk
Of pedals turned, and engines stopped
Fueling foils, for some oil
Pop this boil, through turmoil
Racing time, against the clock
I see my turn, with lack of shock
Sending signals, into blue
What comes out, is up to you
In due rhyme, all will be fine
What comes to time, is back in mind
Spitting fires, threw burnt tires
Putting liars, through the mires
Enter leaving, exit sneezing    
Just to find, their faucet’s leaking
Looking back for heart attack
We’ll see just what, our voices lack
We’ll see our just! what voices lack?
For heart attack, looking back
Just to leak, their faucet’s finding   
Interweaving, exit sneezing
Putting fires, through the mires 
Spitting liars, threw burnt tires  
What comes to rhyme, is back in time  
In due mind, all will be fine
What comes out, is into blue
Sending signals, back to you
I see my turn, against the clock 
Placing time, with lack of shock
Pop turmoil, through this boil
Fueling oil, is the foil
Of pedals learned, and endless talked
Fill my heart, and engines stop
Bless you 

thosewordsofmind:

I see your eyes

as I close mine, 

lost in solace,

sure in wine.

We fall apart,

your mirage tests time, 

fading slightly,

love defied.

lowercases—capitals:

Purity is sanity.
Circles of cement snow
swimming through a poison coated dream

Lipstick stains tattooed under my skin
from a time when death was a catastrophe
Painting my skies an eternal maroon,
the color of your heart beating under the floorboards  

Choking on your own tongue
swallowing all of your vowels
and spitting out rearranged regrets

Remember the times
that we’d sit underwater
but surface before liquid could fill your lungs?
if you could go back
would you swallow the atmosphere?
or dig your own watery grave?

We still live under caves
Our dreams are still stapled to misery,
breathing in vertical horizons,
swallowing aubergine disasters.

Sandstorms still exist
under troubled tongues
and the water becomes tie-dyed
under the impression of collaged faith.

We continue to remember
that our smiles are extracted
from the reds on our wrists. 

tiwtw:

i have all these leftovers
of what i forgot to say to you
when we could stand each other
but i am so in —
i am still so in love with you
that it is unfair

where is poetry’s benevolence
if it is betraying me in all this honesty
that does not forget you
or forget your own cruel sincerity
on the night you thought was best
to tell me you were fine without me

so i dont know where this is going
except towards a space
where you continue to be absent.
i don’t know what i am writing
when i fill the blanks about you
and that is why
i love writing.

dreamdecember:

I can’t help but dream of you.
You appear and I surrender.
I fall to my knees in front of you.
But you bring me from the ground,
Into your warm arms.
That are only for me,
And you kiss me for eternity.

coyotepoet:

You are always on my mind.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

Love may be gone. The tattoos of love will always be with us

              


     


















    You will always be on my mind

The splendor of true love.
Where you allow the wall of fear to fall completely down.
Allowing emotion and desire to take two people away to finding  the real
pleasures learn by the burning candles and sweet red wine.

We touched our wine glasses.
Held our kisses deep and long.
The locked door leaving us protected and safe.
In a dreamer’s paradise.

The coldness of Winter brought her to me.
She  wanted someone to read poetry to her and keep her warm.
I wanted someone to give me hope and strength.

I remembered she came to me late in the evening.
Holding wine coolers and desired conversation.
Dressed like a woman  and
the innocent of a child wanting me to open my door for her.

I saw a devil dressed in a sexy black dress with a hunger that
I could not control.
I watch her take off your coat. Allowing my eyes to see her beautiful
young body. The short skirt allowed me the pleasure of seeing your  long legs.
I told her. “Sometime better not to start something we cannot stop. “
 
She came to me. She went to her knees. Lay her long red hair across my lap.
Raised her face to me. I looked into clear blue eyes and lost control.
She was just a baby. Nineteen and fearless. I was still young and strong.

I knew if you start a fire you can’t put out.
The final act will be sadness.

She took my hands and kissed them.
She whispered. “You have been so kind to me. Had great patience being my
teacher at work. I know you desire me. I see how you look at me. I want someone to
show me the world. Teach me pleasure and pain. Show me what love support
to be. I want a man’s hands on my body. Not a  boy.”

I asked for a wine cooler.  Told her. “I don’t know”

She gave me sweet kisses and took my hands. She wrapped her arms around me.
Asked. “Should I go?”

I said no.

The cold of Winter was blowing a gentle northern breeze.
I looked out at my skylight.
I prayed to be not to make a fool’s wish tonight.

Two  lover’s begin a new journey.
When passion and desire come. Very hard to stop.
The beauty of the first kiss. The first caress. The first taste of a lover skin.
Stayed with you forever.

I knew already. “Fine line between sex and love. Sex create peace for the body.
Love create peace for the soul. When you dance with the young in heart. Pleasure is the desire and love is not so important.”

I still remember the love making. Wasn’t for pleasure. Was to fix a desire that grew with each touch. Her hunger grew till one day. Early in the Spring. She left me. I knew the day would come. Some woman are to be held forever. Some are to be held for a moment.

I allowed her to leave. I knew better to be kind in the goodbye.  My heart was gone and I found little solitude in my life. I join a war to escape her memory.

Funny life is a circle. We met two more time. We had a strange bond.
Even today years later. I wish to touch our glasses  filled with sweet red wine. Touch her perfect body till the morning light. Some dreams become nightmares. Then the nightmare become sweet dreams.

I told her often over the year. “You are always on my mind.”

                             Coyote
                          July 2011

luistryingtofigurethingsout:

As human beings,

We dream

Both when we are awake

And when we are asleep.

-

We dream…

Of the love we want to feel

Of the money we want to have

Of the future we want to live.

-

We dream…

Of lions and unicorns

Of witches and wizards

Of heroes and superheroes.

-

But I dream…

Of your gentle kiss on my lips

Of your warm touch on my cheek

Of your beautiful brown eyes staring into mine.

-

And I realize,

Being able to dream is bliss.

But making dreams come true

Is a precious gift.

-

And I know that I am truly dreaming

Whether asleep or awake

When in both realms

There you will always be.

(C) Luis Alberto 2012

superpk:

Under a starless sky,
My body lays on frozen grass,
its cold touch soak my clothes,
as my eyes lose their light.

Stars!
Their warm welcoming smile,
and their soft splendor,
take me further.
Into the vast void of death,
I wander.

Time moves aimlessly,
it dances, and sings,
and my memories are lost
to the endless bliss.

Suddenly,
A voice,
A whisper,
A painful scream.
Her voice fills me,
my being, my mind, my purpose.

Air and water,
fill my lungs once more,
and, with a deep breath,
my eyes stumble upon hers once more.
If only loving her, was as easy as dying.

- Alejandro Bonfil