[x]

Our Single DropThe raindrops patter on the back porch pane
To leave soft streams in their wake.
Rivulets so reminiscent run down,
Rivulets that some forsake.

As they race along the long glass window,
They can't see what they expend.
They travel the distance with fervid speed,
Though they wish not for its end.

They twist and turn on this short-lived path,
Never staying straight for long.
And while some will fade only halfway through,
Other raindrops will hold strong.

A tranquil puddle at the bottom forms
As the drops begin to pool.
I dip my hand in the miniature bath
And am woken with the cool.

It jolts nearly every sense alive;
I breathe deep to take it

A Subtle DanceDusk falls with burgundy tears,
the glimmering of old chandeliers.
Frost collides with mercury light,
setting the scene of the night.

Amour is expressed within a song,
a ballad to move our bodies along.
The sensation of a silken gown
twirls with the sonorous sound.

A hint of perfection in your eyes
embraces the world in gentle sighs,
as fragments of ice melt into lace,
and velvet roses slip into place.

Another second of endless desire
envelops our hearts in silver fire.
A winter solstice oh so blessed,
a moment to never be repressed.

How the Phelps Failed His MissionEveryone
In the U.S.
Were a glad lot…

But the Phelps
Who lived in eastern Kansas,
Was NOT!

The Phelps loathed gays! The gay population!
Now, please don’t ask why. There is just speculation.
He might have seen them as a social deviance.
It could be he had a gay experience.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that bitter hate had consumed him all.

But,
Whatever the reason,
The past or his hate,
He stood in his Kansas home, very irate.
Staring down from his sofa, with a sour, Phelps glare
At the love and tolerance that lighted the air.
For he knew every person in the country there
Was living and let live

KitesSilent tyrant of the sky
Mind your obscure earthly string,
Though you accrue heaven's eye
Look oh rook, on what you cling.

Betwixt, unfixed the prairie cloud,
Above in love your brethren sing,
In gleam, they dream as diamonds proud
Which gown his crown; the golden king.

Chase the grace of cosmic joy,
Wild that child of crimson lust,
Rave, yet save his fury's toy;
Mirth in birth in truth is trust.

In time, to climb the sail does pine,
Despite its flight, or ambits crossed;
Uncrossed, now tossed, your cords entwine
And all the squall in bond is lost.

A Small Cafe at MidnightA small cafe at midnight
is not where I should be,
dozing off in my seat
and drinking sugary coffee.

"Is this seat taken?" I hear,
and I glance up to see
the gorgeous face of a young woman.
She wants to sit with me?!

Dark brown curls are cascading
down her shoulders and back,
and her bright blue eyes shine
with the light that this place lacks.

"Go ahead and sit," I say,
but I am still confused.
Why would she sit here
with a guy like me? I muse.

A cup of coffee in her hand,
she smiles a tiny grin.
I gaze along with wonder
at her hair, her eyes, her skin...

This girl is truly perfect,
so why is she with me?
She's even talking and smiling;

If I Could Take Your TearsIf I could say 'I love you'
If your heart were free
If you could see beyond blue
Then maybe you'd see me
But life and love are tangled
Hearts weave complex webs
Broken dreams are cradled
And live inside our heads
So from afar I watch you
Love silent in my heart
Unspoken words a virtue
Though they echo in the dark
Your laugh and smile I treasure
Your kindly words I'l store
And in innocence find pleasure
Sweet soul that I adore
And if perchance you see me
Discern the love I hide
Would rising passion free thee
To sail on sweeter tides?

CloserBreath on my neck,
Cheek against mine,
Lips on my shoulder,
A shiver down my spine.

Arms around bodies,
That beg to be close.
Lips that don’t touch,
But are closer than most.

Just on the edge,
Of more than mere friends,
Walking the line,
Praying it never ends.

Holding each other,
And feeling at home,
Before letting go,
And going home all alone.

Lipsss

I found myself quiet a few times
Discovering your picture with my fingertips
And everytime without knowing
My finger stopped at your beautiful lips
Like perfectly crafted rubies
They are red, pure and glassy
Placed togather in a form of smile
Full of life and intents, sassy
Like your face is an vast ocean
Long lost were the two ships
Meant to meet at a certain point
In the form of your cherry lips
Like I was in a hot, dry desert
Dying of thirst, without water
But I found the red oasis
And I drank from your lips, the nectar
Like red the color of love
Affiliation, affection and compassion
Red the color of danger and warning
But its hard to r

First dateI won't say goodnight,
I won't say goodbye,
I'll kiss you once more and remember your sigh.
Your taste and your touch will imbed in my mind,
mixed with words that you shared which were touching and kind.
From the way that you moved or reached out for my hand,
to how making the simplest of things feel so grand.
Yes this date lit my heart just as bright as the moon
but I won't say goodnight I'll just say "see you soon".

Four A.M. Thoughts of YouThe clock read four A.M. in the morning,
And soon the sun will be adorning
The sky with the cheerful rays of its dawning
But I'm not even yawning.

I find myself with nothing to do
But feed myself with thoughts of you;
Replaying memories both old and new
As the sky took on a lighter hue.

The sky was suddenly set ablaze,
Clawing me from my dreamy haze
Into the daily morning craze—
Isn't life a never-ending maze?

Fingerprints of Simple LoveLingering…
Whispering that it was there,
It was real,
It was not a dream.
Electrified with the memory,
But calm,
So calm and serene,
Meaningful and simple.
The fingerprints of care and love.
Laying on my skin…

On my Cheeks,
My neck,
My forehead,
My hands..
The prints of your kisses,
Your sweet and innocent little kisses.

Our SheetsSoft kisses under sheets
where skin and warmth meets.
Relaxed inside and out to reach
from head, to the toes on my feet.

Quick glances and long stares,
neither of us wanting to go anywhere.
Perfectly happy staying right there.
What’s outside? To look we don’t dare.

You exhale and I breathe in
warm air, life of a friend.
Better than anywhere we’ve ever been.
Under sheets the light stays dim.

Lip to lip, just barely a flutter to me.
Sweet, warm and light instantly
seared to my heart like a memory.
Nothing could happen more perfectly.

Heartbeats soothe us to sleep.
Rhythmic secrets we swore to keep.
It’s easy when you

Lunar LoveThe Lunar Eye plays peeping tom
To the poet pair that sit below
And the stars are buried by their glow
Which lingers till the girl is gone
He sits while she talks on and on
And never thinks to stop her voice
Alone among all men he is her choice
To while away the time and share birdsong.

In sleeping time, by small degrees
His flaws become all that she sees
And his love cannot go so far
Her eyes wander to what pleases
Her form, she mocks and leaves
And his sallow soul is sinking like a star.

DifferencesHe holds my hand
From across the bed,
While your memory whispers,
In my ear.
You are a ghost,
Inside my head,
But him...
He's really here.

He does not say a word,
But actions make their promises.
You speak in strings of verb and noun,
No truth among the sound.
He waits so patiently,
His heart it walks the premises.
Your memory pounds at the door,
Much less than honor bound.

He presses lips into a line,
Keeping the anger within.
You press your lips up to mine,
Pouring all your hatred in.

Love SonnetLove Sonnet

Hug me til' I'm broken.
Kiss me til' I scream.
Hold me when I'm crying,
and love me even in my dreams.
Tell me you'll never leave me,
even though I know it may not be true.
Although it may be a lie,
I couldn't bear to ever lose you.
Talk with me til' I'm sleepy.
Spoon me til' I wake.
Be there at my side
for every breath I take.
Because even though I know that we may never be a pair,
You mean the world to me, and my life is here for you to share.

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Strategia glosowania na grupieMoże być tak, że praca albo do Ciebie trafia, albo nie trafia.
Jeśli do Ciebie trafia, to nie ma problemu, głosujesz na tak,
piszesz autorowi miły komentarz i sprawy mają się dobrze.
Może być jednak tak, że praca do Ciebie nie trafia.
Załóżmy, że tak jest. A więc praca do Ciebie nie trafia,
może być tak dlatego, że reprezentuje bardzo niski poziom,
a może być tak dlatego, że reprezentuje styl albo porusza
tematy, które są ci obce. Jednym słowem nie masz cech
jej czytelnika modelowego. Musisz się upewnić

KrainyO krainy dzieciństwa mego przezielone!
Czemu odwagi dzisiaj nie mam zatopić w Was,
hebanowe szkiełka ócz moich zemdlonych,
i wejść w was całe i się w Was zapomnieć?

Koniec konca swiataZachłanna i cicha nicość świat cały jednak ogarnie,
W zachłannej i cichej nicości rozpuści się kropelka bycia,
I nie będzie już ni pogoni za wiatrem, gdy wiatru zabraknie.

Nie będzie końca świata, ów dzieje się co dzień,
lecz wtedy już dziać się nie będzie,
już prawie nie.

I tylko w wszechrozpostartej pustce nikłe drżenie
świadczyć będzie o tem, że kiedyś był tutaj świat.

Najkrotsza noc w calem rokuNoc, to kolor Twych rzęs,
gdy księżyc świeci na niebie,
różowo-żółte halo ma wokół,
chmury szybują jak sokół,
jak ma tęsknota do Ciebie,
jak nocy czerwcowej kęs.

Noc to błysk w Twoim oku,
nikłe światło rysujące kontury
dębów targanych wiatrem
i niebo rysowane światłem
plejad świecących u góry,
w najkrótszą noc w całem roku.

Noc to dotyk Twej skóry,
delikatne muśnięcie Twych warg,
gor&#

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Smak cieplej, letniej nocy

by ~JaBoJa, May 13, 2011, 7:00:01 PM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Traditional Fixed Forms

Smak nocy nie jest snem,
złoty blask furkoce,
rozświetla złotem noce,
roztacza złoty sen.

Blask brzasku środkiem nocy
wstępuje w Twoje oczy,
rozświetla sny tej nocy,
choć sam już nie jest snem.

Nić nocy plączą oczy,
śniąc senny sen — nie sen,
i we śnie, we śnie tem
splatają nić w smak nocy.

I w hebanowe oczy
wśniwają się wśród nocy
karmazynowe sny.

✲ ✲ ✲

Ah! Przyśnij, przyśnij mi się,
wśród ciepłej, letniej nocy,
i Twoje, Twoje oczy,
jak ciepłe, letnie sny!

Smak nocy widzą oczy,
blask oczu w śnie furkoce,
śnią mi się złote noce
i hebanowe sny…

Smak cieplej, letniej nocyby ~JaBoJa

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Traditional Fixed Forms

~diegoalighieri May 18, 2011

hehe... sensu to nie ma, ale genialnie brzmi, sam kiedyś popełniłem coś w tym stylu, choć poezja dla samego brzmienia słów chyba przestaje być poezją.

~JaBoJa May 18, 2011 General Artist

Jak to nie ma? Synestesia + tęsknota!

*pavboq May 14, 2011

Podoba mi się linia melodyczna

A na poważnie to wpadł mi w ucho. Za to kocham polski język, bo brzmi jak szeptanie do uszka przed... snem. I to również wykorzystałaś

~JillyWhite May 14, 2011 Writer

_{przepiękne...!}

~xSyriusZx May 13, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

"hebanowe sny" są stricte moje. Zabieram je sobie.

~JaBoJa May 14, 2011 General Artist

Jak to tak?

~xSyriusZx May 14, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Po prostu :3 złodziej jestem, zabieram.

~JaBoJa May 14, 2011 General Artist

Nie oddam! Nie oddam!

~xSyriusZx May 14, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

skopiuj mi ?

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Smak cieplej, letniej nocy

Smak cieplej, letniej nocyby ~JaBoJa

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