carefully
carved words
ice sculptures
created over
a bottle of wine
reggae beats
undulate the air
bending
hips and thighs
making waves
in the imagination
blending
two bodies
into
one
and
then
the warm rays
of
morning
morning
before sunrise…
in the night
when loneliness
envelops consciousness
and
nightmares
form rainbows
of fear
the warmth
of a lover’s skin
is
the blue sky
of morning
morning ritual…
fingers
trace
her lips
floating
across
surfaces
as if feeling
the velvet love
within
on the edge…
Challenge Photo II from Jade
the gray morning
air presses hard
against me
holding back
the sounds
of my footsteps
that were so clear
and distinct
as i began
this journey
but now
all i can hear
are my labored breaths
in and out
and
my throbbing heart
a heart seeking
to escape
these city walls
to leave behind
this street
where laughter
and joy
have fled
where only
your memory resides
shrouded in betrayal
wearing a cross
of lies
to conceal
the truth
of who
and what
you are
and what
you’ve done
This poem represents my second response to the second challenge series between Jade and I. As you may recall, each poet provides the other with a series of photos, visual prompts, from which the poet is to write a poem. Jade has written her response which can be found here.
from my window…
from my window
i see a world
you do not see
i see madmen
in the street
selling candy-coated nightmares
on corporate auction blocks
for the mere price of your soul
and hear the sounds
streaming from city streets
that go unheard
when children cry
in the night
with parental fright
praying for morning’s light
to embrace the sight
of an unlocked door
into a world most fear
you did not hear
the shallow breaths of fear
throughout the night
reverberating
like waves of tears
an unwanted
endowment
nor did you feel
the touch of love
that a poet knows
sometimes in dreams
sometimes savored
on passion’s bed
in a candle lit room
a love
you
have always
sought
and
have not
found
My friend Toni Cross has presented another challenge photograph for me, but his one is very special since it is a photograph of her…how does one poet begin to capture even a fragment of another poet’s spirit within the lines of a poem? Not sure that I have an answer…but here is my attempt to convey a some small portion of the spirit that I have seen in her writing. I hope that she will approve of what I have attempted.
breathe deep my love…
Image provided by Vlad
fingers move
gliding through
extended time
floating on skin
tracing passion’s contour
no lines of separation
the glow of morning
no other sounds
but
heartbeats
and
slow breaths
deep
as each kiss shared
words fade into gentle touches
and soft kisses
rippling down the spine
there is nothing called time
again
lips meet
part
sharing even
the air they breathe
This is the fourth part of a series of poetry challenges between Jade (http://jadepaloma.wordpress.com/) and me. The whole idea behind it is to send a picture ( in this case by Vlad) to the other as inspiration (or visual muse, if you want to), and the other has to write a poem inspired by the image. Visit her site to see how she has responded to m third challenge photograph on her site.
depression…
he without form
void of all emotions
sat in the darkness
of his room
gasping for breath
praying to a god
he had long abandoned
or abandoned him
expecting little
receiving less
his mind a fertile ground for doubt
too many faceless fears
whispering in his ears
spiralling his fragile thoughts
into the darkest realms of self-pity
where his dreams
wither in the sun of expectation
easily crushed and blown away
faith is but a shadow of smoke upon the wall
sensed but never felt
here
tears are his only true companion
he is buried beneath daily routines
and each day he thinks
the morning
and evening
were the first day
if the morning does not speak to you…
often as i wonder these trails
i come upon a crouched man
moaning that morning has not spoken
saying his question was of life’s purpose
wondering if i have heard an answer
but my sole reply is
have you listened
shipwrecked…
half awake i wander through my day
sometimes dreaming
sometimes fearing
the corners of my own thoughts
as if there were some evil there
(it’s just a childish nightmare…)
all i ‘ve sought was love
not always that with passion
but that love which is willing to give
not decreed to be given
by some collared representative of god
(it’s just a childish wish…)
my body seems formless one moment
caught in a repeating nightmare
floating with only the sound of my heart beat
then vibrant like the sound
a morning sunrise should make
alive with all the wonders of life
like a child seeing his first parade
(it’s just a childish vision…)
i’m caught in this cycle
i ‘m the board which holds the anchor of the ship
and although the rest of the ship is gone
i am bound to these shores
crashing upon the rocks at low tide
and floating freely in the waves at high tide
(it’s just a childish sensation…)
soon the sea will rust these chains
and i shall float freely
without being held to these shores
till then
i must hold fast to what can be
and live with what is
and wander with the ebb and flow
that has brought me to these shores
(it is just the fate of men…)
loneliness is…
the start of a new day
without the sun’s warm rays
it’s the cold wet ground
heavy with the tears of morning
and it’s the ear-ringing silence
which causes the heart to beat with fear
the fear that a love
has gone to stay
Read Between the Minds 
