Escapism

Welcome to my head. Feel free to have a look around. Here at the door, corpses of words sentenced to death tumbling blindly as they slip away across the universe

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Veteran

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Black and White

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Standoff

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Tigris

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Pride of Africa

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Spotted

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Mother & Cub

[jayarrarr]

Become Today

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I want you to know

how much I love you — even if I cannot say the words. As tomorrow fades into yesterday, read the volumes that vibrate still tongues. For who would teach eloquence to the sweat beading on tangled limbs, but forget the trenches dredged by talons wedged beneath the blades of longing? With you, I find words striking, appropriate, inevitable — and starkly incomplete. © 2014 by Jennifer R.R. Mueller

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This is what I love about music. Even the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning. All these banalities just suddenly turn into these beautiful effervescent pearls.

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This chill I feel It is no climatic variation but the ghost of a touch that lingers still on my shoulder. I reach for her but it is only my own familiar flesh that greets my touch. A tangible absence of the intangible essences of her.

An invisible hand reaches into my core. Wrenching on my heart strings as if to pull me towards her across ranges and rivers and seas. My heart and hers two opposite poles of the same magnet shattered and torn apart by distance. Her voice rings out in the words written in her own hand But they are but a drop of water for this parched heart.

[poetdreamer-blog]

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Words have a taste Insults taste of vinegar Sarcasm tastes of salt Words of caring tastes of chocolate And if lucky, a cherry or two.

Words have a touch The slap in the face of some Even a punch, or a cut Others feel like a lovers gentle touch

Words have a color The red rage of one The cooling blue of another There are painful reds And loving reds There are icy blues that burn And cool relaxing blues that heal I’ve yet to find a hurtful purple Perhaps that’s a better purple prose…

Words are more than just the sounds you hear Words are more than the volume you shout Words dance like ballet Words float like butterflies on the breeze

But words also rain like hail Words stab like knives

We lie about the power of words Because it’s easier than admitting the truth

[kateoplis]

"The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering."

Tom Waits

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A small collection of possibly some of my best works recently published in The Bubble Magazine

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I want...

I want to draw  all of you little narrow detail of your face  scribble you all over the walls  of my mind until every inch of me  is covered in every inch of you

I want you  to occupy my space seep into  my every corner open my windows  unlock my doors until the room is filled with  your humor, your light your darkness, too 

I want to itch  with the weight of you sink underneath your bones  heavy with the treasure of your skin  sinking to the bottom of your ocean  drowning in all the pieces of your form I want I want oh, how I want you. 

[larmoyante]

Sometimes the poem has more friends than the poet.

Jennifer Moxley, Fragments of a Broken Poetics   (via diveinme)

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My lips poised above hers. Waiting. Teasing. Tantalizingly close. The battleground is utterly silent, the deep breath before the plunge.

The First is a warning shot. A brush against her cheek towards the vulnerable, exposed portion of her neck. She moves to counter and the battle begins. It is carnage. A flurry of attacks - Blitzkrieg. I rethink my strategy, A tactical retreat. As she moves to rout the trap is sprung. A precision strike to the neck. She replies. Carpet bombing my chest. Drawing me closer, As the tips of my fingers move to her nape preparing for a fresh skirmish. Our defenses shattered, We resort to trench warfare. Sporadic assaults across The no-man's-land between our lips Here we lie. In the throes of passion. Breathless. Without a victor. Contending with the fluttering of butterflies. 

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First Impressions

The smoke wraps her in its fleeting embrace In her eyes a flicker of fire. The Night - the Great Captor has her in his tendrils We twine and entwine to escape the wraiths of smoke

My world blurred Reeling from my heart’s echoes. I feel symphonies in my veins as we weave a pattern through the pulsating crowd.

Light penetrates the heavy cloud, traces an indecipherable note on her face flits from ear to ear.

Her beauty consumed me in an instant Intoxicated my vision Intuition’s breath leaning on the motions We kiss. Planting kisses on cherried lips glowing with the embers of fire. I revel in this garment of kisses, succumbing to the will of the Night.