When you take
and divide it by
women and men;
shackled to the next
there is no turning back again;
Each of the numbers
write from behind a face
and a name only known
by the remaining of the eight;
stationed, they form a natural loop
around a cauldron, boiling hot
they each impart upon the brew
the best of what they brought;
with words heavy as a ton of sand
and fire embers burning old as time
they concoct a wondrous trail of smoke
that creates a beacon above their firelight;
With every flavorful addition tossed in
the fire blazes and pot steams and steeps
the froth that simply forms along the surface
is potent enough to put a crackhead to sleep;
The reason being for this magick
is the formation of a dangerous clan
a legion of literary sword mimes
was how the strange brew began;
This group is threaded by invisible strings
a need to release all of the past happenings
and create from them something…
to counter, with some kind of solid meaning;
each dark, smoky tendril that vaporizes
from the brewing force into the Universe
another gladiator slain by an Arena Beast
another burial of a memory’s curse;
they evade beneath the canopy’s shade
a sword dug in the soil by each’s side
for they have forged the smallest army
hell-bent on turning the compliant tides.
How this mind
constructs a place,
a metallic taste
by the grace –
of another space
just yours and mine
where the thoughts
of you and I;
Nobody sees –
just you and me,
just the way
we like things to be;
You feel adored,
and I feel carefree.
A dream belonging
I am when
in the morning;
to the flushed cheeks
Stay locked in this position,
as the rain is drizzling;
of this place
where we hide,
matters too often
anymore to me, at least.
that time is truth
and truth is a lie;
Happily lost in
of your eyes,
Rain weighs in
and take twice
as long to dry.
Take me to the ocean’s edge;
bury me there in your kisses,
so darkly lit at the corners,
the smoothness of your mouth…
the snapping linen of windy echoes;
Tell me your most hidden truths;
confide in me your every secret,
so sprinkled by shimmer,
the peach fuzz of my skin…
the slapping palms on my ass cheeks;
Read to me from your Book of Poems;
find me safety beneath the voice,
belonging to my Saline Ghost…
the Guardian of my ears and lungs;
Visit me when I sleep and dream;
teach me such righteous divinities,
by one likened to a premonition…
the breaking of a titanium chain-link;
Promise me that you will stay;
poised at my side like you are now,
so collected to balance my insanity,
the ease by which you forgive…
the ripping up of nails from a coffin’s lid;
Lie to me if it means forever;
bury me beneath what you so choose,
so vulnerable to your many strengths,
attentively absorbing you like a sponge…
the infusion of some good in my life.
“I have your answer.” he says through the satellites;
The answer – to a question…that I asked him tonight;
A tickle to his Wizard brain –
A thought, one driving me insane;
He is the winner playing on this field;
He breaks the records, he owns the game;
of my bullheaded difficulty, against his grain.
“Look inside of You.” And his words ring true – to my bones;
“This is me, is this you?” heartache gone…Let’s go home;
A tickle to my inner-ear –
A touch, a truth, I long to hear;
His are the hands that carry gently,
my evidently beating heart, he knows my name;
he holds the stones and feathers of the home from which I came.
“There’s nothing broken about you.” He’s all business in his tone;
Over and over and over…until the message starts hitting home.
"For your born writer, nothing is so healing as the realization that he has come upon the right word.” —Catherine Drinker Bowen
Welcome. I am Lawrence Rodriguez. Here is a collection of my writing, some of which, I hope, will be included in a future book.
There is a storm coming, are you ready?
The ongoing saga of Delila Black trying to get to Nashville.
ATTENTION TO ADD / ADHD
I'm the last words of a slain poet
Even if it takes me not nine but nine hundred lives -Susan ashwoth
A PLACE FOR PROFESSIONAL & PASSIONATE POETS
An occasional blog
It's just G.
don't make people feel bad about something they genuinely love
Real life training scenarios for beginner & expert survivalist preppers. Reviews on professionally tested survival gear essential for all emergency disasters.
Revealing Covert Abuse!
Writer | Mother | Fighter | Lover
Discovering balance on my plate, my yoga mat, and the classroom
A Journey Out of Domestic Violence
.Welcome to my Metaphors.
Connecting to Friends, Old and New, Through Recipes, Gardens, and Dinner Parties
a poetry collection
Drunk Conversations and My Boring Life
a place to let free all that we are
What goes down must come up
"For Grace can still be found within the gale; with Fear and Reverence raise your ragged sail."
A Groovy Historical World
🎭दो चेहरें हैं,दो लहज़े हैं मेरे...और हर सवाल के दो जवाब "एक मैं जो लिखती हूँ दूजा तुम जो जानते हो"!! 👑Queen Of My Own Thought❣ #MyBlogMyFeeling
Making the world a richer place, one story at a time
I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?
A Personified Narrative : Defying Reality. Sketching Imageries.
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