Poem 2

She is wildfire, untamed
A quiet spark, a whisper that reverberates through every bone in my body
Lacing my thoughts and burning through every vein under skin touched

She is the Arctic, countering the heat of the love ringing through these syllables
With harmonious beauty, a moment of snow crystals gently caressing the air,
Holding tight until they meet the ground in a gravitational kiss
And melt away in the palm of the Earth's steady, beating heart

Fire burning out of control in the Ice

She is the moon and the night,
A starry night whose sparkling smile shines in the dark that holds the world in tentative hands
The galaxies yearn for the touch of her lips to their lonely cheeks

She is the Sun and the light,
Teasing the horizon with playful kisses of blinding passion
Rippling through the atmosphere, a ferocity with teeth of its own
A loud roar, a thunder, that passes through my arteries and leaves me trembling 

How am I to recover? 

I try not to flinch when my heart leaps
And spills accidentally like a bottle of ink
Illustrating my intentions of loving her endlessly

I try not to stumble upon each and every word
That slips from my mind the second I see you
My thoughts become nonexistent, my tongue triple-tied
And I melt away in the palm of the Earth's steady, beating heart 

Comments

  1. daegan97September 18, 2018 at 10:45 PM

    Shorter version in French because why not.

    Elle est un feu de forêt,
    une étincelle tranquille et indomptée,
    un chuchotement qui réverbère par chaque os dans mon corps laçant mes pensées et brûle par chaque veine sous la peau touchée.
    Elle est l'arctique,
    un moment des cristaux de neige caressant doucement l'air.
    Elle est la lune et la nuit,
    une nuit étoilée dont le sourire de scintillement brille dans l'obscurité qui tient le monde dans des mains expérimentales.
    Les galaxies aspirent pour contact de ses lèvres à leurs joues isolées.
    Elle est le soleil et la lumière,
    taquinant l'horizon avec des baisers espiègles de passion sans visibilité ondulant par l'atmosphère.
    Une férocité avec des dents bruyantes.
    Un tonnerre, qui traverse mes artères et me laisse tremblant.
    Comment je récupère?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Week 2 Story: The Wise Salesman

Image
Athletic Salesman. Web Source . Author's Note: I took the story of the blacksmith turning into the moon because the wise man got tired of changing him over and over again, changing the wise man to a salesman and the blacksmith into yet another individual incapable of being appreciative. The Wise Salesman The snobby man walked into the expansive dealership room and breathed a sigh of relief as hushed cold air met his sweat-soaked skin, courtesy of the A/C units straining in the summer heat. A well-dressed man with slick black hair walked up to greet him excitedly and exclaimed: "Good afternoon, my friend! My name is Wiseau and boy, do we have a treat for you! You're our 100,000th customer and we would like to offer you any of the cars on this lot for free in appreciation of your patronage!" The snobby man ignored Wiseau's extended hand and declared with a peculiarly nasal tone: "Hmmph. Show me your best, then." Unfazed, Wiseau esco
Read more

Week 15 Story: He

Image
Author's Note: I wrote this story after watching all the Crash Course Mythology videos that had to do with creation and a few more videos about AI development. The act of creating a thinking being is something we see a lot in myths and folktales and I wanted to deliver my own take on it. Also I reused a line or two from one of my other stories, but it's fine 🤣.                                                                                                                                   "He" He woke to the protesting howls of the wind. Raising his hands to eye-level, he stared curiously at familiar integument, playfully rolling his fingers, before rising from bed to shut the window beside the bookshelf, leaving the sheets crumpled. As his hand touched the sill, he changed his mind and opened the window further while fumbling for a cigarette atop the dresser to his left. Restless nights watching embers disperse in the breeze were common for him. It was a
Read more