Letters

handwritten letters  

pressed closely against pale cheeks
warming lonely nights

 

~0~0~

 

she inhales his words
written amidst dry soil,
each word a heated kiss

 
~0~0~

letter in mailbox
creased with blood-stained fingerprints
cold as a coffin

Author's Note:   I wrote a series of haiku poems for D'Verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.   Share your poems (any form) starting 3pm EST (every Tuesday).   

Also for Haiku Heights,  the prompt is Write.   For those who are interested in haiku poems, there is a 30-day challenge in Haiku Heights beginning Sept. 1, 2011.   

Picture credit:  http://whenpicturesspeak.tumblr.com/post/4490380170

Lights in the sky

cool balmy night 
lanterns glow in
hushed waters


pale moon hovers 
quiet retrospect of
our daily cares 


stars light the
dark canvas of
unknown, black void


mocking our 
shallow aspirations 
greed, pettiness, hate


surrounding, we are
blind that we are all
entwined, pulsating 


life-veined in trees, lakes, 
green fields, red deserts, 
snow-capped mountains 

blue skies beyond, universe 

is serene in its chaos,

beautiful, majestic

each creation, big and small

joined in flowing   

energy, goodness 

seeping, my shadow 

a dot amidst 

falling stars 

   

Author's Note:   Posted for D'verse Poets - Poetics - Third Eye Open.  

Hosted by Brian Miller: Today for Poetics, I am granting you the ability to do just that. I am giving you a third eye. This eye has the power to see all the things at work in our world that you can not see with your ordinary eyes.

My third eye sees energy flowing everywhere.. its in our thoughts and our emotions.   I also believe that we are all connected to Mother Earth, and from her, flows our food, and energy.   As to the stars at night, I like to look at them when I feel that my cares are "heavy" for me.  And because I am aware I can "see" more if I want to, I keep my third eye closed most of the time.  My real life is challenging enough as it is.      

picture credit:   http://purplefairies.tumblr.com/post/8703181359

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

Lost child

every night, i dab
red oily paint on
pale sunken cheeks


teeth clenched, I draw
bright lines
around
dull bruised lips


glittering blue
eye make-up
completes my 
photograph


hiding joy-famished
thin frame
behind tight 
black dress, and 
scruffy shoes


my hands rough from
tilling the hard farm soil,
now grips the dirty
blanket in nightly terror
as men
obsessed with 
themselves,
plunders my
soft body  


i lost my voice
a long ago
behind these dark
rooms reeking of sex,
money, sweat and piss. 


i don't believe in
God nor 
fairy tales 


they are for kids.






Author's Note:  This post is for Poetry Jam, hosted by Brian Miller.  
"Our words have power. This week for the Jam, I want you to write a compassion poem, a call to action poem, an awareness poem...a poem that touches on an issue that pulls your heart strings. "  

While I enjoy writing about love and intimacy, I abhor children and women trafficking.   I was watching a documentary about this last night, and it is a cruel reality.   If you are interested, you may want to read more about this cause here.     

Shared with One Single Impression.   The prompt #162 is obsession.
Poets United:  Poet Pantry # 63.

picture credit:  http://silent-musings.tumblr.com/