About Them

Anonymous said:<< post removed >>
Thanks for giving us the opportunity to ,let those with true hearts and inspiration. A platform to simply say thank you . Poetic Peace Always.... Trish

May Rayn

We dwell together, far from here or there,
in misty latitudes beyond the common sphere.
With all the patience of love
we follow one another's silent tracks
through vast, dim, empty fields.
We glimpse each other from afar
and smile our greetings, launching words
we hope will hit the mark.
We keep watch over one another's shadows,
sharing our exile,
our intimate distance.

When once our striving pleased the fates, all three,
the gibbous moon did see us sent to earth
like fallen angels,
long enough
to hear the dulcet thunder, and to join
in luminous commingling
our incandescent flesh

i, Devil~lyn          [for HadesRising]


though I walk through these valleys
of death poetry and hearses  
what I sow into this earth
is cursed with blasphemous black verses

and though I fear no evil
for I am divine and victorious
there is still much evil
in all that is satanic and glorious

and though I may be comforted
by thy rod and thy staff
no amount of religion
can exorcise me from my wrath

infernally christened
by a devil`d King
my lips are sealed bequeath
the iron embers of his ring

in all that I am …
a Diva maddened with darkness
in all that I`ve become …
a Diva plagued by a dis~regardless;
my heart is still
a mortal beating with lungs breathing
emotions fleeting;
only a phantom I remain
in your shadow of shadows
and poetries disdain`d
you will remember my name …

though I walk through these valleys
of death poetry and sin
what was bred from this earth
was from semen and men …

Below the Scarred Surface

You speak of your strength
a past of battles
fought and won
bloodied family
foes and fighters
with calm recollection
because it is what it is
even if it shouldn't have been

You growl your passion
revel in your lust
a controlled burn
of give and take
pushed to the edge
pulsating poetry
raw and rapturous
in scorching carnal celebration

You whisper your love
with quiet intensity
the deeper knowledge
of someone lost and found
breathtaking and heartbreaking
giving words to wordless joy
and losses profound
alive in your vulnerability

Your words bear witness
to your violence
of flesh and emotion
testimony to what was, what is
making art of madness
evidence that clenched fists
are not your greatest strength
and they never were



*for todski28, whose inspiration and encouragement tempted me to try my hand at writing poetry

@AlwaysHungry,

You have such a way with words - your poem is enchanting. Thank you, dear friend. And here is one from me to you.


After Winter, Spring  (for AlwaysHungry)

I walked down the corridors of life,  
knowing exactly where I was going  
until, one day, I turned a corner.  
 
Disoriented, I opened doors at random,  
squinting at overwhelming sunshine,  
or writhing shapes in darkness.  
 
My mind invaded by some crazed imp,  
some drugged-out djinn that had escaped
its confines, I found myself in dreamland.  
 
The doors all closed behind me...  
with a slam, or a firm, low click.    
Drained of all joy, my thirst grew and grew,  
a flame fueled by some abstract need  
I could not put my finger on...  
 
Then, a soft knock! A warm, gentle breath
blew on my door, the air grown sultry  
at such speed I had no power to resist  
your insistent touch, bringing in Spring.  
 
You woke me with a gentle invitation  
into your world of sonnets and panties.  
Our conversation meandered, a brook rippling  
melodious over boulders of hidden meaning.  
 
Was it you who opened with a question,  
or was it I inviting you to picture my desire?  
Awkward and shy eddied together with brazen and wanton.  
 
Patient, you pried away hesitation, my petals  
falling open as you showed me your columned passion  
fisted and cradled in your fingers.  
My lips ached for it, my tongue  
hungered for that velvet, to slide  
around its ridge and dip into its crevice.  
 
You distracted me with talk of irony, rhyme, and meter  
while coaxing my other nipple into your mouth--
the ardent suckling pulled twixt my thighs.  
 
The melody flowed freeform from your fingers  
as my rivers grew viscous between swollen banks.  
Our waters mixed and flooded corridors,  
drenching parched earth, quenching the  
thirsting roots of my desire.

Submerged in deep waters
Little light
Yet I see you
On Nordic shores
In Southern tides
Waterfront bordellos
On your arse and in the air
Shabby shod and high heeled

For whales remember

You and sing loud Mourganna, Van, Pishashee, smooth crim, out of the shadoe, most dear whelm, Queen Vee, Dartford, DivaLyn, the Irish fella, Daddy, Absinthe, JF, Lobo the Big Dog, the Rain, some lost for seas are treacherous and up on the bow your names Lady Chi, Sister Ahavarti Flowergirl and the oh so many nights daze we played portside (th)ink (dr)ink together in E-visage over E-vista as our lives souls dreams collidoscope fears and hopes spilled gutteral on to digital pages...spilled visceral grasped and glimpsed  at gods and demons made deities of the everyday and wept for real in virtual time and in the blood letting and in the quiet observation of the little things and of love and this (im)patient parallax the palliative cured

And once more I could dive deep
Alive once more
By the gift of your breath

.... poem moved up...