Simple Muses

Tag: web

Disillusioned

It’s my time to leave the guise behind
The dreams were devious deceptions
I wanted to believe
The tantalizing torrents that bled me
Left my heart emaciated
Torn into obscurity
A ravenous beast arises
Eating hearts entirety
With sensual sway of eyes
Feathery swipe of lose strands
Tickling breath begins
Syllables of seductive sin
Lulling tones slip you in
To childish recollection of love
In that innocence
It’s done
You let go
Yield to intimate image
I’ll lick my lips
Despoil your soul
Wink and walk away

Advertisements

Words Will

Full, wild, erratic
Wee crazy
Eccentric pen
Meanders across pages
To flippant points
To meddle in
Placations for the minds
In the mean ground
Where compromise, compassion
Are ideals, concepts
Afloat on hot air
Scarcely a vibration
Able to catalog
Anvil’s echo to syllables
Their manner
Concludes considered cognitive
Definitive sums
Laws pertaining to homo-sapiens
Alone absolute problematic boons
Trounce innate
Perception of instinctive cyclic weaves
Encircle life, land
Death and decay
Lessons pass down
Drawn by a man’s’ hand
To berate, belittle
Demand degradation
Till all are beguiled
To imperfect script
A tract of soot, sorrow
Establishes ages
Of extinct reigns
Mollify the inherent spirit
That already purifies
Itself without prejudice
From peculiar barratries
Fallacious thrones where
Parchment schemes
Restraints on reams
Consignment is unattainable
For minds found
Nurtured to live life

Morning Kiss

redhead

I long to catch you tenderly asleep
Lost in some fantasy
By my side
Your auburn hair spread about the bed
Strands like webs your lips wove
On our first meeting
Oh how I can not pull my gaze from such
Pouting lines that flow through me
Forcing my fingers to tingle with a muse
Wanton to touch
With butterfly’s grace
In the silence of the rise and fall of your breasts
To forge the memory of the honey
I know is found there
So I may scribe to all
How perfectly sculpted lips feel
Lingering along my fingertips
Before I wake you
Partaking of their supple nectar
Upon my own

Thought

thinking

What one thinks
Then says
When thought follows
Through the conversation
Should flow freely
From the mind
And be interpreted
As respected syllables,
For did not the moment
Lend itself to find these words
Intermingling of varied perspectives
On some topic, touching
Or passing quaintness?

Unfortunately
It is not so
In findings
The requirements
Have become that
Pronouncement
Should be measured in stones
And as the rule of foot of a king
Each differs.
What has been thrown?
What volley should be offered in return?
If enunciation dictates offense or
Is there really any point
In returning the resonance
If the vibrations created qualms?
Or did the tones offer taming
Touches

Regardless too what they elicit
Or how words are worked
Sometimes silence leaves the longest
Impression

Words from a Little Person

Poets bleed from the heart and soul

The Darkest Fairytale

I dreamed i could fall asleep.

I am Lovely and Lonely and I Belong Deeply To Myself

May You Touch Dragonflies and Stars - Dance With Fairies and Talk to the Moon