The Bane of Fullness (day 2470)

I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.

The Seasons (day 605)

And fantasy breaks over the ice like award winning actors
Carefully floating its sadness into the cracks of the frost
Sculpting majestic kingdoms for antique traveling

Who walks away with the prize when all soldiers cry?
Dim spots of light fill the sadness over the meadow
While blood nourishes the fresh roots finding the new morning

For then, after one evening of bonfires and dancing
The heavens broke open and spilled out eternity
Laughing out loud as if pricked by cupid himself

As dances all came to a finale and bow
The feelings rustled down in orange and red leaves
With freshly cut pine keeping warmth in the fire

Commingling Essence (day 559)

Battling egos lay down in passion
Between the satin sheets and pale white skin
One says jump, the other says beg
While barrel rolling, slipping it in

Little angels, they whisper please
They crawl amongst the birds and the bees
Fixing Cupid, with his tips of lust
Onto a landscape where desired lovers unite

Passion then passes from left to the right
A balancing act uniting the gods
Light beams and wind gusts float through the air
An elated lover screams out into the night

Passing by crossroads, the trees lend their shade
Mid winters glow and frosty tipped snow
The lovers engaged do walk down the street
Commingling essence and infusing the night

I’ve Died Here (day 398)

I’ve died here
I’ve risen up
Let my ashes fall
I’ve returned here
To haunt the masses
I’ve cried upon lovers
I’ve yelled at youngsters
I’ve witnessed deaths
And pushed to the edge

I’ve died here
Two spears to my heart
They came from cupid
Who laughed as they sailed
I plied at his conscience
To which he ignored
I sent home a messenger
Who cried as he ran
I watch from afar now
Sitting on the stars