Ripe as scarlet

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

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

         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

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

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

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

Cherry Blossoms by Scarlet Verses

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.