Passion 101

Tell me what you ache for. What makes you burn and tick. Convince me of why you love, crave, and / or need it so much. It could be writing, a person, an idea, an object, anything. I thought we could all relate to this because poets tend to be acute passion-sufferers.

Rules

- Two entries per poet.
- 500 words max.
- Old or new work.

Beautiful, Romantic. I love "you were there with me / in unwanted storms". Yay for a great start!

      american bohemia


from out of the lonely beyond she came
reaching into the void with mystical arms,
searching with a reckless predication.
her hands found me in my bohemian sanctum
& she offered to keep my secret passions safe.

we had no permanence nor security to exchange,
no blessings nor happy endings.
so we put a heart up for barter
(when a heart is so easily broken.)

we noted our thoughts & our desires;
it was music, it was poetry spoken.
we were soldiers in a war of attrition,
& we found a way to make love
outside of our physical bodies.

         ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

but drifters need to drift,
urged on by a tumbleweed wind.
& angels are spirits of the open sky
& so they must fly –
there were other fantasies to chase,
other lovers to seduce…


there are places where ghosts whisper
what they never had time to write,
so I go there.

they will teach me how to be a poet.

Thank you, John, for this gorgeous entry.

"there are places where ghosts whisper
what they never had time to write,
so I go there.

they will teach me how to be a poet."

Yes.

    My Freedom,it gives me
   It touches me as though I was a first love
   I hold it, and never lets it go
    It bounces off my ears..I beg for more
   I repeat those words into a microphone
     It makes me dance, I vibe its energy
    I can't live without that perfect melody
     the desire, and voice it gives me
     to sing and be free, crave for its scenery
     crave for its peace ,crave for..that inner..me
     I unlock myself, because music is key

ache|two|<->|way|it     [actuate]                                                                          

i hate me when it comes to you



the way
unintentional picopauses
of your universal blinks
invisibly fall
somewhere near-directional of my nation
blowing me off my self-containment tents
in a maddening swirl

derivations
from our delusional matrices
dissect as fireflies of your tantric fullmoon

aches for an impossible sun from night's dreamflares
spinning daytime dares me in 'refresh' merger-dramatics
as i catch a slight sight of your dark alchemy clouds
i get an inkling relay link from thereon  
enter easy your dismal stillheaven
wherein
search floating traceabilities
of my cold condensates
hanging on your undated canvas
I flow concentric upon myself
from signature hints

and there's this neverending loop
until fullmoon haunts again



now that tendencies release
I see your silent sly smile

you actuate me
before anything

better secretly hate yourself for tactical catalytics
but that's less severe than my obvious documental case

mastervictim of a victimvictim

who's who here
don't guess now
until the game is on

you name it
dubiousmoon
deviantsun
dustlust
deathlove

but atleast its forever

HINTS


For you
hints of blue
when I can't contain
hold in how I feel
about you
then you'll see
your needed
wanted
thinking about
you
here
with me
like this
dressed for purpose
yours
mine
ours.

So let your eyes satisfy
feast
famine no more.

I'll always hunger
its true
I'll always be wearing
slight hints of blue.

But my heart
you've seen
soft
warm
within my shell
expressive
beats
please
come closer Sir
heard my voice
witnessed my love stare
knowing my want.

I might appear in hints blue
but always
always for you.

The door is shut

You can't get through
I won't let you in again
the lights are off and the edges sealed
there's no way now

for you to seep into the lights warmth
and creep into sleeping thoughts
of soft embraces
where gentle fingers roam
the soft lines in dreaming faces
and brush cracked lips that part for breathless kisses

so lay back and settle down
into a hooded mind full of the puddled warmth
that comes with knowing
that the door is locked
and not knowing who's hand
flipped the world with the twist of a key

Sacred spaces, forgotten places, ruins in the mist,
Ancient rocks, mermaid lochs, natures natural list.
Old oak trees, cherished bees, the river runs wild and free,
Icicles forming, new day dawning, all of nature inside of me.
Apple blossom flowers, storms that last for hours, the tarn upon the mountain top,
The call of an owl, hearing heathers sweet bell, watching the daffodil buds pop.
Sunset in arms, blessed fairy charms, the sand on my feet at the shore,
Glistening dew, all calling to you, heed the messages and feel what they're for.
Subtle her signs, searching for minds that are willing to open their eyes,
For closed is the soul that ignores all that's told and the magic inside of them dies.
Listen with your senses, breakdown blindfold fences, feel the Mother drawing you to her breast,
Don't try and fight it, you'll truly learn to love it, go with the flow your higher self knows best.
Feel her in the shooting star, hear her singing from afar, watch the rainbow fade into your chaos mind,
Hear In the lions roar, the daisy unnoticed before, the smell of ferns on stone circled hill,
The sound of a ravens wings, cleansing the painful things that you harbour deep beneath your will.
Feel your throat is dry, no need to wonder why, it is your conscience saying to jump,
Just close your weary eyes, bid ignorance last goodbyes and free fall into her, you will enjoy the bump.
So soft and homely, her love your one and only, she has gathered you in to fulfil your purpose,
Just open eyes and then you'll recognise that there's more to this deluded circus.
Wash away the sceptic, their lies are so deceptive, they've sold your soul to this illusion,
Wake up sons and daughters, you were born from her sacred waters, we were not made for this sad seclusion.
With her you'll smite all enemies, in you her sexual energies, the seductive Magic that she taught u well,
Build up on darker trust, deceptive carnal lust, drive all leaders to their personal hell.
Never fear her, always hear her, every breath a message from her heart,
Now you've found her always remember that you and divine shall never part.

Do you ever have a feeling, just imagine as I speak
An intense ardor for nature, a wild and mystic streak
Barefoot in the grass you have an urge for natural connection
With your clothes let ego drop, your true spirits resurrection
I can not call it lust, its to vulgar of a word
Erotic to your core, yes I know this sounds absurd
But you're all alone, nature calls for sweet fantasy
You touch yourself and synchronise with the energy of the tree
A grand oak father, wants to feel your juices on his bark
And as you feel yourself get wetter, gentle fingers hit the mark
You are fantasising of making love to the tree
A feeling so natural, so pure and so free
We are one with our Mother..sweet blessings she provides
If we lay down and feel her, if we trust and close our eyes
She can take our minds to places of eternal bliss
The taste of all she offers is an appetising kiss
Loose yourself in love and lust for all our precious  land
Release your stifled subconscious, take the truth deliverers hand
I'm sure you think I'm crazy but I'm interested to see
If there's anybody out there that has fantasies like me

Is it red or it it yellow
green as leaves or black as hollow...
Is it a blooming flower or intoxicating wine
Is it a mindful union when souls entwine....
Is it music or notes of her whispers
Is it rain or her sounds that I hear....
Is it sensuality hers dripping or soft sensation
Its everything mystic ind conceives....it her blazing passion !!!....

"Quality And Poetry"

I perceive the primacy of writing squeezed like a-cuteness
To stiple 'freedom' through imputed
Binding schemes
To intrude in it
Like a thief...
'Vicodin' has left
Lines to be
Free...
Are tried to bleed restrictions
To be against this vital principle we seen begin it
And if it's true, fermented juice 'rhyme' with time
Then poetry is aged and bottled too
And just like that wine
To grow and
Better...
Like the flowers and the grasses
That's been around
Although we pick and down and clash against the weather
As to criticize a bird for having feathers
And early stages...
Are the places where the verses have to first develop
Akin third degree?
T'exactly did perfect mean?
Like it's bad to be alright without having a certian scheme
Though we're writing for ourselves
Just so happen a person reads
If the rime is from the heart it don't matter if termed 'supreme'
If ye strive to crush the dark then prepare when aspersion breeds
May the tiding disembark from the pamphlets to furnish ease
The breeze...
To see what started and become of this thing
Now, some are trying to take an art and make it something it ain't
Instead of loved 'for what ye (poetry)    are'
It seems like vaunting is craved
Stray away from why it's done, I promise, nothing'd remains
And what's a rank?
To something that can't even be appraised
Hatereading don't define
Nor could poetry be contained
And it's made...
It ain't about the praise or the condemnation
And it ain't about a gain or another's statement
And the quality embrace the rate of consummation
And the quantity is just the pages in the
Publication
Of that one writer's life
Whoever likes to
Write...
Don't let the devil try to trip you up and smite your light
You can fly but let your morals hold you like a kite
God is like the wind...
Only with him can we glide the sky

"Screenwriting"

I like the screenwriting
I like to see brightened...
Ideas...
These minds can make a silent seem like it was shrill
Being quiet... just observing
I admire your
Craft...
So ambitious and determined it inspires your staff
I can see how hard you're working
Send the studio the...
Spec scripts
Everybody hoping that they wrote the next film
If they did... that commission won't reject them
Probably'd bring them in so the world
Could see the best flicks
Stressed...
It's the other thing to settle me down
But I made it when I claimed the faith could never be found
All I talk about is changes but I...
Mean in myself...
Because I know I'm not the greatest so I'm
Reaching for help
From Jesus... and these screenwriting
Teachers since it's new to ME
I don't think that we should place a limit on
Our view of things