Summer flight

I leap straight into your arms
without looking down
as if I knew you would catch me:
caterpillar hands, dragonfly wings


I gaze at your lips as if I have kissed
them a thousand times in my head, slowly
my fingers travel to your waist and hips,
as if I knew them intimately, smoothly


the seas I have crossed are red
coral reefs still cling to my russet face 
I even smelled death on an old man's tears
and green is my favorite color      

my wings bring me here today 
I don't pretend to understand you wholly 
except that your words storm the shores of me, 
sailing my white tidy boats to voyages unknown  


hold my face cresting on your chest, 
it's warm as the summer grapes 


   
A poetic response to :   Your hands by Pablo Neruda 
"When your hands leap
towards mine, love,
what do they bring me in flight?"


For the D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3pm EST

Thanks for the visit and smiles ~   Happy summer day ~


Picture credit:  here

Not the first time

he adores
the candle light playing on her sun-kissed skin


eyes closed, she smells of pink corals, and
orange sunset by the beach


for the first time, he is
shy and intimidated by their intimacy,


whispering softly, she says to her new lover,
do not be shy
we have been making love for days


he reaches
to touch her fullness, moonflower white  
 
fragile as a pearl,  in his firm arms
she is sensuality,  bold and heady


on his lips,
rapture dance of the sea and the sun


he knows 


as he writes and sings their music 
as he draws and paints their dance   




Author's note:   Posted for the OpenLinkNight of Real Toads and D'verse Poets Pub - every Tuesday starting at 3pm EST.   I am also writing nature themed posts in my other blog.


picture credit:  here


original post :   http://realmsofbeauty.tumblr.com/post/15910958702/sensuality-does-not-wear-a-watch-but-she-always

Unrehearsed

beside brick red fireplace
we click cold beer bottles 
banal, polite conversations
of weather and cellphones

swirling around rented plush suite
cramped with eager beaver smiles 
braving niceties, we snort noises,
all considered politically correct responses

cocktails before dinner, warming up spiels,
karaoke bars, team sessions, until
near the program's end, we sneakily
slip away, with a red bottle of wine 

laughing until we stop at my doorstep, 
lamplight fusing our shadows
you take my key and gently nudge
me inside, without a word

we hang up our black tailored coats
unrehearsed, unscripted, we embrace
awkwardly,  fumbling, entwining     
in imperfect symphony  

 

Author's Night:  I attended a company conference last week as part of my induction to my new job.   It was interesting to meet my new team, but my social skills can only take so much pleasantries.  The activity though provided great inputs to my writing. .. a part of my life that is unchanging still.          

Posted for D'Verse Poets Pub - OpenlinkNight.   Doors open every Tuesday at 3pm EST.

picture credit:  here

Still beautiful

i set aside my green bag  

containing red rosary beads, 

spare change, plane ticket

unfolding white coarse sheets
i spread it across lumpy bed
too small for both of us


jagged mirrors on ceilings  
collage of past diversions,
or maybe transgressions 


we both ignore as we 
kiss gently at first trying to 
remember how it was, were

heated embrace, bodies fitting

as we rock to familiar rhythm, 

each vigorous thrust an imprint, 

amidst crowded narrow streets,
beggars, hustlers, mayhem traffic, 
uncollected garbage, polluted air  


warming satiny skin as your tongue 
probes, taste my pink buds,  until
gripping arms, i cry out  ...   


home  


bitter sweet tamarind, red yellow papaya,
palm trees decorating brown walls
dividing, segregating rooms; we unstick


labels stitched on our foreheads, 
revelling in our bodies pulsating, still
an unbroken refrain despite oceans apart,  

then with gentle warm fingers
you cup my pale face, saying 


i am still beautiful


tracing lines under your tired eyes,
i kiss your rough, blistered palms
whispering softly, 




no, you are ....

Posted for D'Verse Poets Pub - Poetics.   The prompt is to write about a Taboo Subject - How to be Fearless and Nothing Else.    This post came from visiting my family in another part of the world. I spent close to two weeks there, happy and sad times.  Though I am presently living in Canada,  it saddens me to see the country mired in greed, bitter politics, and poverty, despite the "progress".  Nevertheless, it is my motherland, a beautiful place for me.         


Shared with Poets United:   The Poetry Pantry            

Picture credit:  http://cristania.tumblr.com/post/11463023537

Dark love

the bed linen soaked your dark passion
as your hands gripped my pale cheeks
kissing my lips until I was bruised pink
crushed in the death grip of your arms
i felt no tenderness nor waning of your lust
you wanted to scourge my body into hades 

all the flowers from my hair fell, scattered
in the floor, cold and metallic, unlike the soft
garden of my home, now so very far away
your long limbs pressed close, eyes glazing
not even the shadows of the night can hide
your fierce ardor, unapologetic and raw    

   

my maidenly robe hanged, ripped, crumpled,
by doorway between earth and hell
I could not tell the difference, forgetting as
I came alive, writhing under your soft mouth
warm, fervent hands kneading my bare skin

my lips sighed, moaned, drowning out
mother’s pleas and cries in the wind
all over the world, her anguish echoed
tears killing the lush meadows, soil
wasteland, barren and empty like her heart

forget, I wanted to, my motherland
as your lips devoured my cup, filling  
every inch of my pure white flesh  
in throes of black spell, i felt alive
your queen, replete with your fruits    

offering pomegranate seeds for my rest
a taste of heaven you said, and I took it 

slowly licking reddish pulp from your fingers 

coal eyes glowed with pride as you gazed  
at velvet purple ribbon around my neck  

Author's Note:   The Gooseberry Garden: POETRY PICNIC WK 6 : Stories from Mythology, Culture and of life.   An interpretation on the myth of Persephone, when the King of Hades kidnapped and brought her to the underworld. Her mother,  Demeter caused a terrible drought that forced Zeus to bring Persephone back, but she was obliged to spend half of the year in the underworld.  


Updated:   This poem was selected as Poem of the Week by Gooseberry Garden.  Thank you ~

And D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight. Doors open every Tuesday at 3pm EST.  See you there.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Persephone

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/demeter-and-persephone/

picture credit:  http://monsieur831.tumblr.com/post/4442558478

Devotion

draw the curtains close
as I unpin my long hair
brushing opened shirt   

~0~0

light feather touches
rolling, unrolling my hips
air heavy, smoky

~0~0


silent communion 
lips and hips in rhythmic beat
piercing paper walls

~0~0


resting gentle lips
bare devotion in your arms
making my heart jump


~0~0


quiet end of night
serenity curled my lap 
sleeping days on end 

Poetry form:  Senryu (3 lines, 17 syllables in 5/7/5 format).   In writing this form, I strive to provide a contrast of image between the first line and third line.   As part of Haiku Heights Challenge:  Prompt # 78 is Feather.  My other haiku (nature themes) poems are here.  

Also posted for D'Verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight hosted by the Brian Miller.  Doors open Tuesday (every Tuesday at 3pm EST.)  


Update:   This was featured in Poetic License Feb 2012.

 


picture credit:  houseoferotica.tumblr

In your arms

I want to forget

time, place

only now

sandalwood scent 

silky touch on my back
soft lips trailing nape  


pouring white wine
tasting cup of honey
i fall apart  

remembering
everything 

in your arms

Reposted for Poets United:   The Thursday Think Tank - I am linking up an older piece as I am currently on the road, back to Canada.   For this prompt, I took the sentimental albeit sensual route.  The hunger of the world is a real concern for me, but given my present state, it is too big a topic to tackle and write given my time constraints.   Happy day ~     

picture credit:  http://houseoferotica.tumblr.com/post/5917916595/you-in-my-arms-tonight-its-all-i-want-not-only

All of Me

some nights

i just want 

to watch her

slow and sensuous waltz


breathing in


my warm musky scent

some nights 

i just want to 

let myself go

inhibitions, control, fears

and 

let her have

all of me

Notes:  Some nights, I just want to write for myself.   No form, no inhibitions.


picture credit:  houseoferotica.tumblr

Slowly

unfold me gently
with deep lingering kisses   

searing my skin pink 

unwrap me slowly

peeling each tissue to gaze

gem in jewelled folds

Poetry form:   Haiku (3 lines; 17 syllables)

For Haiku Heights Challenge # 62:   My choice for the prompt is slowly.   

picture credit:  gildam.tumblr.com

Lemon Kiss

fresh lemon slice

swirls in mouth

juice breaking pore

boldly, soft lips

touch softer lips

eyes closed,

unmindful 

intersection of noses

smooth cheek on

pine-needled cheek,

pink tongue curls,

duels in

heady exploration

  tequila scents,  

hands lost in

smooth long tresses

drowning

in

salty brine

of ocean’s bed

until breathless

eyes glazing

intoxicated

first kiss

Author's Note:   Tell a story in 55 words.  
To read more,  please see G-man.  

I find this exercise very helpful G-man.

Also for The Gooseberry Garden, the prompt is The Kiss.   (I should clarify, I wrote about first passionate kiss)

Tanka: Enthralled

husky voice, you sing

soft silky touches, i singe

unforgettable
rose jasmine scent lingering
curled warm in my fingertips 

red plumed hips, you slay
heated kisses rain, i sway


unto you, enthralled  
   by spell lasting summer's tryst 
spilling fire-lit autumn nights 

Author's Note:  The poetry form is tanka (or waka).   This is an unrhymed Japanese poem consisting of five lines of 5/7/5/7/7 totaling 31 kana (Japanese units or syllables). From tanka's long history - over 1300 years recorded in Japan- the most famous use of the poetry form of tanka was as secret messages between lovers. Read here for more information about this beautiful form.  To test my tanka, you can read lines 1,2,3 and 3,4,5 as two subjects  sharing the same line 3.

For D'Verse Poets Pub, OpenLinkNight, Tuesday (every Tuesday) starting 3pm EST.   Bring your poem (any form) and share warm company.

Shared with Purple Tree House- Poetic Form:  Waka.   Thank you, Shashi for the information.  Shared with The Poetry Palace - Week 50.  

Picture credit:   http://temptingsweets99.tumblr.com/post/7124096052

Not my name

I went to the bar for a game

to see dis-grace in my name 

Gulped a margarita, and danced

feeling bolder as no one knew my name

On stage, belted a rock song 

crowd cheered, like they knew my name 

Taunting the devil, I kissed a man

Sparks flew before he asked my name

Lustful eyes, I pulled down his pants 

Riding him, he wanted to know my name 

No labels, no expectations, no name, I said 

Still he asked, "Can Angel be your name?" 

How I wish we are in Eden sin, so I said yes 

Then, I laughed as Heaven is not my real name.

Author's note:   This post is for D'Verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Link your poem (any form) starting Tuesday (every Tuesday) at 3pm EST.   

In writing this post, I took some features of the Ghazal form I learned last week (at least 5 couplets, ending refrain on each couplet, "I" perspective and signature couplet on the last verse).   However, per John Alwyine-Mosley's guidelines, since this is a narrative, it falls outside the ghazal form.  


For fun, I inserted my real names in this post. :-)  Thanks for the visit ~     

picture credit:   cristania.tumblr.com

A kiss

nights ending

mellowing sighs

ecstasy  rides

passion flowing     

hips melting hips

hands meandering   

tight embrace

light caress 

prelude 

but

it always start

with a

kiss

Hope everyone has a good weekend ~

Dancing

you took my hands, together we leaped

gliding to the dance floor, we dipped

swaying closer, we ignored    

hiphop, rock, fast beat grooves  

we waltzed round and round

timeless rhythm

my hands waved and curled under

one leg lunged as our tongues embraced

we didn’t hear the music anymore

but we kept

dancing til   

rapture

 love   

Author's Note:   I used the nonet for the form (9 lines; first line with 9 syllables; second line with 8 syllables.. until the last line is one syllable), but added 4 lines in the middle so that the total words fit the 55 word challenge of FF.


Isn't it so hot today?  Hope you guys are keeping cool ~

FF 55: Sweet repose

My hand gently cups your cheek

My finger draws a smooth line

from your neck

Around the slopes

Dark shades, long strokes

I tossed my pencils and oils aside

My tongue traced all the lines

Inhaling your breath in the canvas

You sighed and closed your eyes

I gaze at your beauty

in sweet repose

Author's Note:   This is my first time to try this - Tell a story in 55 words. Give it a try or just read more, go see G-man.

picture credit:  houseoferotica.tumblr 

Tango Romantica

Passion, intensity, focus
The words hammered in her mind
As she smoothed down her red and black dress
In a few seconds, she will skate for the dance of her life

She locked eyes with her ice skating partner
In his fitting black ensemble,  he looked  dashing
Muscular and strong though built on the slim side
He can easily lift her now, more so then
when they first danced shyly as 6 and 9 year old kids

Head erect,  she held out her hand to begin  the routine  
She posed gracefully as they moved in beat 4
His hand on her back, they glided with deep clean edges
The lover’s dance,  the complex dance of tango

She is arrogant and unattainable
He must plead and be worthy of her love
His shoulders are stiff, chasing her
His legs crossed with a sharp sound
With a quick turn, he moved in close

She glided away, her back straight in a flash
His hand is warm at her waist, caressing
her side, he wanted  to plunge himself into her core
And spill his passion into her

In the ice rink, they moved in a curving fashion
Pouring their unrequited love, their unbridled tension
for the 1.43 second dance sequence,
surrendering to the music echoing in their hearts
no one intruded in their dance, not the crowd nor judges    

Years of practicing together 
Like two peas in a pod, has made it easy for them
to share one heartbeat,  one goal of glory  
More than best friends, their bond is deep and unexplainable 
They came first with each other, 
their lovers, an afterthought.             


From the side, their coach watched them  
Precise arms and leg movements at 112 beats per minute,
on ice their chemistry is undeniable
She knows what every skating fan and public suspects
that something more is added to bring
the tango dance technique into a spectacular flaming number


The skating partners moved closer, foreheads touching    
Closer, he wanted to ravish her
Her lips opened in anticipation
Beckoning him to savor her sweetness
Her heat, to pour his heart


The tension is palpable as they embraced for the final beat 
his thighs pressed close, his breath on her lips  
Do I have your heart ? he asked tenderly    
Theirs is a dance of seduction and capitulation
My love, it has always been yours, she whispered softly.

Author's Note:   This challenge is for Romantic Friday Writers:   Surrender.  Maximum word count is 400.

Picture:  Canadian Gold Medalists, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, Ice Skating Competition, in  Vancouver Olympics in 2010, Canada. 

Climb

i just want to 

climb all over you 

scaling, mounting, gripping

till i am standing still 

till i am falling 

over you

Author's Note:   Just a fun and light post as I am exhausted from all the writing this week.   (Frankly I am in awe of how some can write almost everyday *coughBrianMillercough*.)   

Hope everyone has a nice weekend ~  

picture credit:   houseoferotica.tumblr