Poetry Does Not Sleep #amwriting #poem #writer #literature

Poetry Does Not Sleep

The poet makes death tremble
For taking us one day
For in giving beauty to our words
I serve a beast, an angel and a madman
Within me, it’s terrifying then

To write about how our lives diverged
On a path from the same source
Who cares if we take a road
Less traveled to arrive at the same source?
You might have an ordinary life

And I might have a life of spirit-fire
But who’s to say who is the richer, or the poorer
When we all define success differently
If I can stop one heart from breaking
From the bottom of my heart of words

I shall not live in vain, cool the aching
Life is unpredictable, but one thing I know
I found I change best with the seasons
When I’m writing, which happens quite often
I promise spring is coming

And with it, brand new leaves like poems
I will be the sunlight ripening again
I will be the buds and birds in circled flight
I will live on in poetry, I will not have died.

That You Belong to Poetry #amwriting #erotic #AppreciateAnAuthor

“You know an author is good, when they can afford you inspiration on all levels.”
– Wuji on the work of, the illustrious, EJ Koh

That You Belong to Poetry

I want to map nudity as a concept
To dare to be vulnerable
To fumble telepathically

Against each other
Not forced but slow
Warm like uncovering morsels
Of electricity and find the right skin

The soul’s skin is kissable
Enormously divine and watery
For this is our play and our poetry
In bodies and minds like blankets
I search for her warmth in her pain

The taunt Asian skin that ages so slowly
I want to slip beneath her lines
Go where I’m not strictly allowed

Since my finger search would
Lead me only to a kind of shelter
Where my hand is caught in an ocean
Where as wild beats we’d play hide and seek

Until the ends of time in new bodies
Then, I will, I promise I will transform
Every part of you into poetry
And you will die to your solitude without hesitation
Knowing on gut instinct the variety

Of pleasure I will be able to afford you
And before I hunt for you I will wait
For the briefest of time, for the

World to stop, so that our shared aroma
Might hang in the air for the cosmos to witness
Before the love-chase finds me
Studying you like a chimera

Or a golden suitcase that floats
From city to city, novel to novel.

Perfectly Red #amwriting #erotic #NaPoWriMo #AppreciateAnAuthor

Perfectly Red

What if I were to tell you,
I am profoundly enchanted
By the flowing complexity in you
Would you believe me, that I have read
You like a novel, dove into your skin

Your diaries I’ve taken into my heart
Move me, may I be the one to
Unlace your secrets down your spine
Hitching up your skirt to straddle your mind
They saw the brain is the most erotic organ

In ways you are but and will remain a stranger
Like a seed I will never sow
And with lips I am yet to ever kiss
With eyes that have not met in a flood
Of these lingering touches I’ve never known

What if I am aroused by your
Labour of scripture, your tyranny of ambition
When it comes to authors, they are not
Required to be naked in bed to make love
All it takes are the tools of

Our minds writing letters at an uncontrollable pace
But I suspect, you like to pull close
Then dart away, breathing in short bursts
In anticipation of the next melting
Where you are perfection and I am

Always slightly ready, with mouth of wonder slightly open
And heart turned wet in a stranger’s kiss.

A Window Into your Soul #amwriting #poem #NationalPoetryMonth #eroticverse

A Window Into your Soul

My dear, you take pleasure in the face
With a thirst I cherish of cherry grasping
And you are not dead yet, so I chew
On the heart of your chiselled femininity
Where I want to wet your lips

With all the water of the meadows
And drown in the melodies of your tongue
And elevate your heart-rate with
The kiss that can intoxicate from deep down
And I will stumble O’ so dizzy

Into your heart like a green room spinning
And then our veins will hum in sweet-madness
And the fire that burns inside of you
Will erupt in a soft gold glowing
Of all the sunsets we ever wanted to drink

And your skin will explode with my
Deep throbbing, and we will gesture
At the universe together in sweet knowing
Our time here is precious and our
Pleasures are on the same journey

So taste the wonder with me
Taste it like a window to your soul
I want to hear your grateful surrender
And feel your body quiver
Never minding the naked protocol

Of how our appetites work best for each other
Or how our hunger is a broken rule.

A Sensitive Man #amwriting #poem #micropoetry #erotic

A Sensitive Man

I love the April rain
And your soft little moans behind
Behind where my wandering hands
Felt the cool embrace of tomorrow
I like the encore of our sweet thrills
These encounters we repeat

In different seasons, with the same bodies
You taught me a rhythm of your blood
Where you squirm in secrets
And behind your eyes
I can predict the pleasure

Of your hidden chambers
Where your soul invites me
To walk along those corridors
Where lust might turn to love
And like May flowers, you might become

The secret I craved to discover
That a touch can save your life!
Kissing like this is frankly
Kicking death in the ass while singing
And like a window to your soul
I only want to make love with you.

Touch Was Here #erotic #amwriting #poem #micropoetry

 

Touch Was Here 

I like your body when it is with my
Body, it is certain to be pleased
Not just sensually, but spiritually

It is quite a lesson to lie like this
With bread crumbs for big eyes
And spring for firm-smooth skin

And trembling gold of Taiwanese fragrance
The ocean parting in your flesh
And a thrill of being like a virgin again
Without orgasms, not in it for cheap howls
But the lust of a more tender unity

Not lust, more like magic butter caressing
Like oxytocin on steroids, feeling
It’s killing time with a stranger

And finding a soul-mate in the crowd
Taking them to bet to part those sheets
Like holy waters of our love
And we pray together in the heat
Like a born again believer

And in the healing of eroticism
We find a basic means of self-knowledge
Where a clitoris is as indispensable as poetry
And silence is preferable when our bodies talk.

Realization of Solitude #amwriting #poem #NationalPoetryMonth #micropoetry

Man is the only being who knows he is alone

This morning, let me drink the silence
Let me swim in my own solitude
Being the profoundest condition
Of my humanity, you’d think

I should get to know her better
Intimacy and silence, that’s all
There every is, I cannot often
Penetrate another being with my love

Since surrender must occur mutually
And there are times my emotion
Does not require reciprocity
This morning, let me forget about altruism

For we all deserve the dream
Beyond myself, somewhere, I shall
Then wait for my own arrival
The slow enlightenment of lifetimes

Because two bodies, naked and entwined
Soul and body, mind and heart must somehow
Learn to live together and leap
Over time, we are not invulnerable

However in the silence of today
I realize there are no yesterdays, no names,
No you and I and no tomorrow
This morning, I want to give myself up
To something higher than I ever was.

Poetry and you Leave the same Lasting Impression

Poetry and you Leave the same Lasting Impression

It’s not necessary to say that I loved you
Because the entire universe
Conspired to help me find you
And each day it conspires in us such a harmony
And if imagination is more

Important in our relationship, than knowledge
I shut my eyes and all the world
Drops away, and it’s just us
If I’m a victim of introspection
You bring me back again and again

To the real world your feminine pragmatism
Assures me is the important one
I know, my poetry is a tyrannical discipline
It’s not affording you a good lifestyle
However hypnotized I am by its workings

I often find myself watching you
As you eat a piece of fruit or share a conversation
So darling, if the moon smiled
She would no doubt resemble you
It’s not necessary to say that I love you each day

But I still do anyways, it makes my
Lungs dilate with the onrush of breath
That I’m a part of the scenery
Air, mountains, trees, people, thought
Life affords me just enough raw materials

To create the reality I want
To be acutely aware of for the rest of my life.

The Initiation into Poetry #amwriting #poem #writer #literature

The Initiation into Poetry

It’s said that poets are anxious bohemians
A strange figure in a dishevelled landscape
With some kind of Baudelaire complex
Alive with sex and tragic forsaken brooding
Or some schizophrenic Holderlinian tick

Some Plath-worthy enigmatic illness
That is hard to treat, harder to diagnose
But the truth is, poets invent their own reality
On another level, than you and I
They are like jesters in love with words

They can’t stop the ranting
They are infatuated with the music
And the temptation of anxiety and trepidation
The anticipation of freedom that is the after-taste of verse
Like wanting to be loved, and not knowing how

I knew a few poets who are mild autistics
They will imagine something beautiful about you
But’s it’s an ultimately self-annihilating plight
Like how we all need another soul to cling to
Poets cling to beauty, and the soul of other poets

And love to die for their art, making good martyrs
I guess you may or may not have the stomach for it
It’s not something you can do exceptionally well
It’s the feeling of going to hell and heaven
On a dime, to imagine you have a calling for it

It’s a daily demonstrative love you feel
That you put and marry to the page
Day after day, until all memory is a fragment
Of a poem you once wrote, it starts to have
A life of its own, poets taste glory in each day
And aren’t particularly afraid of experiencing pain.

Brief History of the Galaxy #Humanity #environment

Brief History of the Galaxy

Numbers are the cosmic language, or maths
As light is the universe’s way of greeting
Stars form around other stars, like

A who’s who of popular luminosity
It’s not always the colors you think
That have the most life, or where

The best species grow up
I know a blue Earth where
Humans made machines that made other machines

That’s the life that was left there
And they found a way to harness the sun
For free-energy, since the petrol companies

Had long ago died and forgot to destroy
The patents to free-energy, machines liked it of course
It didn’t require all those killing organics
To be running around like they owned everything.