Spirals From Pleasure

Spirals from pleasure of life’s lost
moments is merely a sentence in,
structure and despair. It is more
a place we fall and continue to go
when our dreams and needs can
no longer give us their hope, taught
to us thru feelings and buried in
our senses for a struggle to feel.

Then down we must go.
Falling into the listless wonder of
pains grown with overbearing
memories and separations eternal.
From hosts of emotions we worked
so hard to let run free, infecting
us with embers, the sparks that
caught hold and flamed the fuel
of generous tensions readied in us.

Then a thing of beauty , one
perfect at a time, singular in it’s
splendor. Now ; becomes a tool
we use to feed the dire abyss of
what can no longer be seen and
will never be shared . Now a
number not used to heal ; but
wounds us as we breath .

Once so good to us as it was in us-our love.
We are now driven lower to less than
ever was, and still more nothing to come.
As we feel an enormous space with the
potential for difference far less then
the heights we soared as we fell and
Felt out loud together for a time.

Adjectives rendered useless; we see
the hurt . Unable to move words
our vocabulary frozen. We cannot
use letters to make up anything,
no matter how descriptive to show
this falling -ness or more yet the
weightiness of still less.

Drowning us as it floods the moment
rising up to choke off the sensibilities
of thought and reason. Giving voice
to our eyes as they scream in an
expressionless morose .

Overcome with the grief.
Several tastes of bitter, in
non-common and vile untested
directions. Generate these immense
sufferings. Exercising a clause in
this our contract of wonder
by stopping expressly
any free exercise of affection.

Thus, we are bound through,
stages of bliss to damnableness.
When dreamy in our notions
we furled endearments to and
fro as pretentious shards harmless
in the innocent playfulness of love .

Words of kindness and longing
now placed near our hearts,
act like weapons used against
us in a battle to resolve this conflict,
of forever and never again.

Marks inside, stain us shades of
tender hurt, for what will be our always.
Soon to be tested , fading will start ,
lessoning the fear to be touched with
gentleness and care. Once again then.


For giving’s, sake we taste , aye again, in a
moment of weakness or budding will those,
causes of life’s lost moments, giving us
 strength to free fall the, sorrows
of loves muted chorus of delight.

Tastes of Sweet Flowers

The building in me of this rise to ," manly needing" grows and feeds my nature with the images and memories of your ecstasy and the soft warm fruits of your body and its call to share, be and do with me for a time. Then I know you as familiar in my touch, now kneeling in surrender, you appear as a wonderful blossom, inviting me to taste you, a rose of passion:

A "Sweet Flower" reminding me of its beauty unfolding, as I open each petal- soft a shiny gloss, revealing more of the mystery and rush of its allure, growing undaunted by the day waking around it. Beads form and roll away, each'es adding to the sensual aesthetic pleasures waiting to be tasted, it's bud swollen, ripe and rich with the flowing nectar of togetherness. Pulls me into this moment of flesh and wills catching turns and moving in their own, giving delight and receiving direction from the utterances of sounds, not made up of words; but communicated thru touch. The fragrance of your desire moves my lips closer to yours as the promise in our moment leads me into your spirit and longing. Arching, clutches of you as my tongue dances rapid steps of lividness, teasingly tracing the steps that have pleased you in the past. Moving with you in this dance as quick of our retreat from then, to again and now, when as a singular melody we are played by the language of our fire like a sweet tune so perfect, lost and recaptured each taste of you. Bursts of delight send me to your thoughts willing us further in search of our movements together forging them into the ornament, of our love, your rose of passion.

Steps To Love

Love’s doing us with its causes,
Captures us with its forces.
And ends with the gains and loses
Of us -whole, broken, felt or forsaken.

The journey starts as steps.
In motions that inspire the dreamy
Optimism of notions readied with
Blissful emotions . Feeding the
Need to walk this path full of
Mystery and curiosity.

Steps as quick when we first meet.
Slowing strides , often before retreat.
Quickening gates of measure to the
Fleeting rejection of forever. Thus as
The meter stands on cue we feel the
Tempo unchanged. When best the
Tune is played by two.

Letting the heart take hold whence
The winds of romance no longer blow.
Numb, with quiet and longing
Yet unsettled with the familiar of
Needing . Inner voices softly
Pleading , you must reckon their
Heeding. While your mind counters
With : Leaving!

Rational steps form courses ,
Since mentioned. Now lead to
Tortures, when love is no longer
The reason. Performing careful
Deliberations casting purposeful
Illusions only feeds the delusions.

The journey ends with steps of
Causes. Forlorn forces reach us to
Ponder, loses. Old gains, viewed as
Follies. Spent, lost and wasted .
Reckoning replaces the last
Stages, of what once, splendid
In its graces, moved us to near
Heavenly places.

Until , rested we begin again
To search for those steps leading to:
“Love doing us with its causes”,
While it Captures us with its forces.
And starts again giving us life’s
Breathless pauses.