Miss you. How do you make love stay?

Might be seperated by distance...
By break up
By death
By time..
How do you keep them a part of you?

2 entry's max
2 weeks
New pieces please.

This is about love..this does NOT
Include..any unwanted acts by partner, violence, rape, or acts with a minor.

Example piece

Making Love Stay

The rain..
Normally a comforting cozy sound Snuggled as drips cover like a blanket
And I allow it to ease me into night

This night..
Every drop offends my peace of mind
My mood  falls with it into lonesome
My love is far away, his moon shines

I light..
A white candle and call it by his name
The glow soothing and warm like him
I drift into his space and find his arms

My fingers..
Begin his masculine seduction touch
Finding breasts soft, full in his hands
Circles round, gentle tight pull to point

And down..
Finding the curve of a womans waist
Urges his hands round belly to mound
Parts labia he has made moist inside

Slow glide..
Two fingers take clitty gleam between
Delicate rub finds my feminine rhythm
I ride his twirl and stroke to loves rush

Eyes close..
I keep him there and his candle warm
His flame burns shutting out the rain
And fall to sleep in love and in peace

And i keep the night with his embrace

Written by calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)

The Company Of Absence

You said once
that Europe was your dream
walking the cobbled streets
with a pen in your shirt
in the midday warmth

peace, you said
and I prayed for you

as you paced the walls
of your house, with the rooms
empty as Sunday mornings
and I thought about how strange
it would be to let you go
out into the tumbling world,
cutting your silhouette
from my mind.

It wasn't ever going to be royal
for I ponder crisp white pages
I have scribed with you,
and think of your skin
perfect and chaotic
in the insomnia hours
when clocks tick slowly
and I feel your pulse
across spectral voids

vexed with frustrations
of being unable
to whisper my fears
of never finding another
who lights up space
quite like you:

I love you as all secrets
deserve to be loved
in the low shiver of time,
your ghost kissing my hair
as I fall asleep.

Awe Miss Sub..gorgeous..
First..what a perfect title for your piece and this comp. Absolutely, the entire the whole of it what i had in mind.
And so clear..his restlessness..
"as you paced the walls
of your house, with the rooms
empty as Sunday mornings
and I thought about how strange
it would be to let you go"

And loving someone enough to not only allow them to go..but find the will to want that peace for them.
The insomnia hours. Love that..the paper you write him on your bit of his skin touch...
Just adored this..and thank you for starting this off...

You're welcome my dear

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9s9NaUl2OZw/Uqj_IRn_1pI/AAAAAAAAaz0/brib39c_imk/s400/lonely-girl.jpg~original.jpg
Haunting the bad place in Mansion Lettinggo

the moistened stairs in the old mansion
had encouraged the mildew and moss
to grow into thick spongy carpet
once it was a stairway to  her heart

the mansion was getting old
the spirit within had departed
again, time after time through time
an adage heard repeated

misty eyes and choked mouth
tasting salt water where none exist
raining where no rain fell
washing the heart's furrowed cuts

she wandered in and out of rooms
where written poems and promises
hung askew on grey walls
decorated with gossamer cobwebs

touching each one and wondering
why and how it had gone away
without any divine gongs of goodbyes
just indifference and absolute silence

the little cuts on her heart's wall
were bleeding without mercy
at the halls of Mansion Lettingo
moving on was her only survival

his love were faded like twilight skies
cutting off ties far away apart
distant like a dream, within her waking
tears,  mounted within her heart forever

sorrows known ever familiar
smiling brightly moving ahead
gracefully walked on forward
living what dreams may come.
 

The Winter Room

I spend my days catching
the snowflakes, sprinkled from your
fingertips, and painting them on the
walls;

we were supposed to stand in
Central Park, catching
them on our tongues, for I
was your December Girl,
once.

I smeared excrement on the skies,
in grief, when you left—
it reminded me of the piss-stinking
subways we rode, where the
scent of your city sweat and
testosterone, redeemed it
all.

I hear you only in my heart and
marrow, and my home is prepared how
I think you would have liked
it.

Winter hours drag, and my
rooms wait to be filled with snow, and
I shall find you there, again, among
the drifts, waiting for me to
come home to where you are beyond
the stars.

This Old Bench

I wake up each morning
you are my minds first thought
lips smile as my heart imagines your touch

ball of fire now rises to greet a new day
moon falls behind a hill to sleep
stars are hiding among orange streaks

a silent tear slowly creeps down my cheek
as emotions gather deep within flesh walls
passion begins stirring thru heated veins

mind begins roaming to where you are
this old bench brings you right here
when we sit upon its planks and cuddle

Black Tears

is there anything left to give
after you've given your soul away
when all the purple tears are wept

after all the drama and passion settles
harsh realization you've lost all that you are
in the end you really didn't mean much

your efforts to luv another all heartily
has slapped your heart into the unknown
to have protected all souls but your own

and now.....now you've paid the ultimate price
surrendering yourself unconditionally to dead fate
you now dwell in the devils wake

just because you luved another being......

with more than just the passion that's created you

your soul forever stained by black tears

normal men learned how to write post ww2
So you wanna be a hard working, honest man
or just be known as one
at least have your mother think so
before she kicks a bucket full of lists with no check marks
it's a wicked world where greedy, evil men prosper
and are considered successful and good at life
regardless of the below horizon lengths they will go to,
to at least seem that way
lying professionally
pretend friending

once i saw a boat on dry land
it needed some work
but i know a thing or two about barnacles
by now

I wanna scream these next things i have to say at you
but that's just rude and doesn't make much literary sense.
Norman Mailor said once when referring to Tolstoy
"compassion is valueless without severity, otherwise it is defenseless against sentimentality".

1,2,3,4,5,6 Killers
and barely one meant anything by it.
You i mean we drink for sweethearts, glory days back when, the ocean, how long you can stare at a wall.
Man dies in a one bedroom apartment alone with his pit bull
and the dog starves to death all by his lonesome crying.
18th century wagon train gets stranded in a storm headed for that cali gold rush and eat their own horses in whisper,
without a salty drop of water touching ground.


once i saw a boat on dry land
it needed some work
but i know a thing or two about barnacles
by now

"compassion is valueless without severity, otherwise it is defenseless against sentimentality'

by the way
I still wanna be screaming
for a blood diamond, power ball, lawsuit, record deal, publishing contract advance
but that would make me just like you and I don't even need those things to get there.
No matter how much we lie,cheat,steal,betray,curse skies and stars above us, pay homage to a mickey mouse upstairs like it's the general's cheapest rate cuz we have to move around to make it or the cosmic po po might get us ridin dirty when cardiovascular systems cease.
It's not the real distant affection we live and die and do all these cheapish things for.
It's contact. Cellular exponential. Protons and electrons that make sense without a physics for dummies book.
Two individuals wearing slippers and touching a doorknob at the same time so to share one good hurt,
feels better than it does bad

Barnacles,bayonets,beer goggles,10 cent beer night at Port Royal and the first kiss tastes like hand sanitizer.

Maybe you listen when I talk
or maybe you just didn't have any gum.

"compassion is valueless without severity, otherwise it is defenseless against sentimentality"

I Miss You

When we first met we were already assuming we hated each other yet
whenever we were together it was like we were twins.
You weren't like any other guy I met before.
At first we started off as friends then something happened inside me that made me get that warm and fuzzy feeling as if I felt more than happiness whenever I was around you.
Now it's too damn hard to just let you go.
I miss you,
I still wish I could have you here,
I don't need you,
but I still love you.
Oh I miss you.
I didn't let my true feelings show because I was too afraid of breaking up our friendship,
but you see you meant so much to me.
Even those moments when you told me about her I felt so much despair because even though I never met her I hated her because she was with you when I wasn't.
So painful to hear about her, but I bottled it up because I wanted to be happy and not be miserable.
I miss you,
I still wish I could have you here,
I don't need you,
but I still love you.
Oh I miss you.
One night you and I were having fun like two little kids as we were playing and laughing and holding each other lovingly
then suddenly you had the wicked idea to dare me to kiss you so unreluctantly I did so.
Our kiss gave me so much bliss inside as if my heart had exploded like a firework on Fourth of July.
Your lips they felt just like a rose,
your eyes were dark and beautiful as they were also intense and soulful.
And God I loved your smile, it shined as bright as a diamond.
Just everything about you was beyond beautiful.
It was mystical and so magical, you made me feel like a godess each and every time we were together.
I miss you,
I still wish I could have you here,
I don't need you,
but I still love you.
Oh I miss you.
I still remember those sensual, lustfilled nights.
As we made love each and every way and almost every day it felt like our bodies were one,
by the time were done it was usually from dusk till dawn.
Then laying together in each other's arms as we tried to catch our breath.
Now I still long for those nights as I stay up late at night tossing and turning,
crying softly as I leave tear stains all over the pillow case while wishing that someone would just hold me and tell me everything's going to be alright like the way you did for me.
I miss you,
I still wish I could have you here,
I don't need you,
but I still love you.
Oh I miss you.

calamitygin said:Might be seperated by distance...
By break up
By death
By time..
How do you keep them a part of you?

2 entry
2 weeks
New pieces please.

This is about love..this does NOT
Include..any unwanted acts by partner, violence, rape, or acts with a minor.

Lovey, is the rule of two entries mandatory, or can it also be one?  Just thought maybe more than I might want to have that clarified.  Thank you, sweetie!  -- .ggr <3

http://img02.deviantart.net/bbc0/i/2013/143/9/e/symphony_of_the_lights_by_porbital-d66amdy.jpg

The Christmas Promise

Built of stones quarried from a century,
the cabin sits low with its back mortared
and braced against the north wind, ice bound

from days gone past in darkness before
the mem'ry of man, the cleaved glacier fields
of long ago to where they roamed,

settling the scarred land here, a man and
his woman have made this place their home
far from his family's village to the south

out of reach from the place of their birth,
eager to be challenged, as part of a
desolate earth of ungodly beauty:

The howl of wolves is music,
The sleet and rain their song.
The midnight sun that guides him

as eight Huskies race the laden sled away
from a town across the inlet where friends
have gathered there for some Christmas cheer.

The fur parka hood that's pulled 'round his face
starts to ice up from the cold as he
thinks of her through the sound of dogs

She tends to him, and their frontier home
where there's the promise of their firstborn
who hasn't introduced himself just yet.

She smiles at the image of her man, of how much
like a bear he looks when he strides in from the frigid
snow flurries with that beard and windblown ginger hair.

Eternal nights and northern lights of winter
caress their cabin nest while she sleeps
naked and warm, wrapped in layers of soft fur.

Whispering his name as she slumbers,
a fire glows and flickers from the hearth,
the wind moans outside the frosted windows,  

a full moon stands watch passing overhead,
and floods the frozen land with its light—

her ginger man forgets the cold and driving
wind, to endure and urge his Huskies on,
heading true north towards the promise of her.


Written as prose-poetry.
©2015 Jade Pandora

Oh Grace...had to read this as soon as i saw the exquisite title..thought i knew what you were goin to do and you did..
Love this build of a brokedown mansion of her heart and love..what a knock out Metaphor..and i get a haunting image of her pacing room to room in her memory..so very well done.
A favorite of yours i think...that is a huge choice, your work is always so fine.

the little cuts on her heart's wall
were bleeding without mercy
at the halls ofMansion Lettingo
moving on was her only survival

Thank you so very much.