Silken lines
that caress my beating heart
into euphoric bliss.
Arresting arms in a warm embrace
seeking my cold frigid frame.
Foreign yet familiar.
Wisps of hair of the blackest
pitch, tussled, sinewy. I lose
myself in its darkness.
Let your fingers entangle mine.
When the world is lost in its haste, and
their eyes are not looking, hold mine
in your abysmal gaze.
Absolute.
Reality knocks.
Come now. Hear my call. Lest dawn
breaks and I must fall.
Image from here.
13 redmarks:
good night. thanks for this poem. this marks the end of my night. a good night.
@Andrei Alba Good morning dapat, hehe. Your welcome.
and so i wake
stared at my hands
i still could feel your warmth
yet empty
i am holding my own hand
beautiful. i'm in awe.
@the geek Thanks for visiting.
Truth so relentless.
Grasps us, her
unwilling minions.
I awake, feeling
the cold. As always.
Just like yesterday.
And the day before that,
and before that.
@Nyl Thanks, but not as generous as the stories you weave. Because yours are truth. Mine are merely placid dreams of a longing solitude.
I find it difficult, often, to read you. And not only because of your language, your tight grasp of it, but also because you trigger certain emotions that I am, at this point, escaping from: loneliness, longing, and other faces of this same sadness.
This is also probably the reason why I don't write poems right now. Poetry is my first love, but writing it demands too much from and of me.
Sigh.
Hey Red,
Something's bugging me. Rereading our latest exchange on my blog, and recalling (at least trying to) what I've written as a comment on this entry, I can't shrug off the feeling that I've said something wrong. If I have offended you in any way, I apologize.
is it just a dream
or a visit that will end soon?
that you thing with feather
sing me a great love song
restraining traces of lonely tune...
i wake up with one hand reaching out in the dark. then i let it fall on my side. i'm still in bed. exhausted. yes, it's just a dream....
with the bed weather that we are having right now, it's times like these when i feel like sharing my bed with someone. we'll just sleep and that's it, promise, hehe.
nice poem. i love the wordplay. :)
@Manech Poetry often has that lurid lyricism that prose fails to effectively demarcate. I often find myself at a lost for words when expounding on the intangible state of things. Thus, I turn to poetry to elucidate what the written word fails to grasp in its purest form. Because poetry has that capacity to transcend semiotics into the realm of the unexpounded. We all deal with loneliness in varying degress, I believe my resultant reactions attest to this, but despite the shortcomings of our circumstance I have to turn to my words as mere tools to placate the voracity of this condition.
As to being offended. Do not worry. I am neither offended nor perturbed by your reactions. Contrary to this, your candid honest and spontaneity is a much needed breath of fresh air for me. You have not written anything that I might find offensive, in fact your perspective on things often reflect my own contemplations. Much so, but without the brevity and clarity you so fully command. =)
@Yj And we always awake feeling that void that a lucid dream provokes, that longing that maybe someday, soon perhaps, that dream may find its way into our consciousness and reality will unfold its benevolence to our liking. But alas, a dream must come to its conclusion and we must trudge on, facing what little hope we can muster against the onslaught of the human condition.
@Maxwell Flux In all honesty, I'd rather spend a few minutes being held in a sincere embrace. Feeling comforted, wanted, and protected. Rather than a whole night of debauched sensuality that leaves you spent and superficially gratified. Thanks for dropping by. :)
Such gruesome for us human to feel the emptiness and loneliness. The feeling of undone and unwanted is such the main reason why we feel unloved.
Oblivion is falling down, sometimes i felt the world sucks. and sometimes i felt it is wonderful to live. now what is the real meaning of this, i guess i am crazy.. no i am not, it is just a process of life i guess.
It is easy to be lost in someone's hair. And then sooner, this same someone wants to get you out of it. LOL.
@tim No, you are not crazy. Fate, it seems, is bipolar. And maybe a little delusional. :)
@Victor Gregor How graphically explicit and, well, true. But everything passes, the sooner we accept this, the easier we grasp reality.
Sic transit gloria mundi. - Lat. Gone is the glory of this world.
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