O(h).

Oh I feel ravenous.

I lay myself in front of you

Ready for siege

My defences are down

And I prefer it that way

Ready to be conquered

Ready to please

Spread wide as far as the eye can see,

You survey the land so perfectly.

I wonder to myself,

How can I be so deep?

You’re far too good at digging

The harvests that you reap

Sewn by every seed,

These threads are now undone

I’m bursting at the seams.

It’s getting late

And the symphony still plays on

Your pen is mighty powerful

The way you write these songs

Penance for my sins

You could right my every wrong

Iron firm grip around the reigns

I have no choice but to ride along.

I love to play,

He’s so good at games.

He loves a wild woman,

I love how he tames.

But he’s always prepared to reignite the Flame

Just in time for

me to send

down the

Rain.

(Don’t) Talk To Me

How liberating it is to be through.

The midnight hour delivers revelations

Cuando el río suena, agua lleva.

That truth washed up on expectant shores

A fisherman’s prize

It lay tangled at my feet

I unraveled the cords

My fingers bleeding,

Like times I offered my hand

Waiting, for a touch that never

Skimmed the corner of my wrists

The way young lovers do.

 

 

Everything- Lifehouse

A favourite song of mine by Lifehouse. Enjoy.

Find me here,
And speak to me.
I want to feel you,
I need to hear you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjDojEOiMcE

Giuseppe

If it be possible to

fall in love with a voice,

Well today I’ve done just that.

He echoed through the room

A silk serenade to my eager ears

He sent me a recording

My thumb broke the rewind

I longed to hear him speak

One more time,

Yes, one more time.

He  went off to sleep

His goodnight my lullaby

So in my dreams

I told him to speak

One more time

One more time.

Pandora Speaks

 

So she turned to him, and with a slight grin upon her lips she told him her truth. The whole truth and nothing but. One has never witnessed such honesty, spilling out of her mouth like water from the Chalice Well; it engulfed him from every corner. She could not contain it. This was her time to be heard, and I must remind you how rare it is in this life for a woman to be heard.

“Woman like me can never love and be loved in return. It’s always one or the other as our role permits. These men do not love me. I know I am a commodity , and the day I’m not desired I fear the walls of Jericho have been struck down. I was pure and good once . But the passion of the brute has dug it’s dirt ridden heels into my body, too many times for its mark to fade. I’ve given my passion time and time again for nothing in return. Nothing substantial. No permanency. Just a brief moment of feeling wanted and evading the curse that is loneliness . I feel so lonely after, and a little less complete. A little less whole . A little less me. I do not love these men. They would never take me home to their mothers because I’m tainted to them. Not worth a family or a household. Yet women like me are the ones they yearn for when they lie next to their wives at night. Oh the things they say! “You’re the only woman that can satisfy me.” If only they knew what it was to be satisfied. You see there’s these men. But then there are the others. The poor earnest souls. The tender cavaliers who dare to take a chance on tortured women such as I . Who choose to look past the snicker and whisper of the town. Who defend our honour against a world that says we have none. And, if they’re really foolish, dare to propose. To take to the alter one they wouldn’t allow through the church doors. These men are far too kind and therefore too good to be loved. I want to love them . I really do! But I would never allow myself to get so comfortable. He thinks he can handle what is completely irrational. I know it will become too much for him. You can’t possibly have these feelings reciprocated from a woman whose perception of love, has been completely distorted. He’ll be frustrated every time he looks into my eyes, broken little stained glass mirrors, and wonder why I won’t allow him to love me. And I just might love him, I just might do. Alas, I’m incapable of showing it. Throw me around, do your bidding, let the rage of impetuous lust erupt then retreat back into its corner. It’s all I’ve come to know and all I can allow . Anything else is unfamiliar— and far too scary . Remember, I too was once pure and good. I’ve forgotten how to dream. It is precisely because of this women like me can never be loved. I’m content living a life confined to brief intimacies and fleeting moments of inclusion. I hope you understand. I pray you understand.”

The Grand Optimist

 

With youthful merriment

I have dared to tread

Waters unknown to man.

Countless times amongst the waves

I watched my dreams

In the distance

Armed with ardour

And a lover’s zeal

I knew they’d come to fruition.

A grand optimist of sorts,

From infancy I pledged

I’d aspire to greater things

Like they always say you should,

Sacrifice my heart and pride

Work toward the greater good.

Look how times have changed my friend

How sentiments wash away,

I wouldn’t dare lift a hand

Disturb my permanence

For a fleeting moment

Or brief epiphany.

To watch it fail yet once again

A burden I cannot bear

I’d rather live a life confined

To a comfort zone of fear.

I apologise for my jarring tone

and melancholy notes

When life reaps enough disappointment

You too will sing such songs.

 

“What did I do? What did I do?
What did I do? Tell me, what did I do to be so black and blue?”

By The Hour

Isn’t it a pity to give yourself away?

To let yourself get lost in

Love’s silent reverie.

When the walls of intuition

Say place your heart in  confinement

Don’t you dare let it run astray,

You tear them down

Like Jericho and

Love another day .

Until the optimist is killed

And you learn that

Love is pain,

By the hour

You slave and toil

To build those walls again.

You build those walls and break them down to do it all

Again.

 

Some Dreams Should Be Left Deferred.

The spark seared its way

With a vengeance,

And the thing came to life

In my hands.

Crawling beneath eager palms

Poking out through

Flesh and bone

It sprung onto my lap

Like a monster out the mire.

 

He asked to be branded.

To be stamped with

His saviours approval

But oh!

I loathed the sight

Of my bastard creation.

Punished him with a

Father’s silence.

Left him to watch my

Form fade into the distance.

Son’s first rejection.

 

I woke the next day

Head in my Hands,

And  his gaze

Frozen to memory

With icy indignation.

My dreams have

All been

Laid to

Rest.

 

Eros

 

You .

Are the first and last thing
I think about every day.
Your name is etched in bold letters
Across my brain
So say something,
Something that makes it all worthwhile
I wear my heart on my sleeve,

I give everything I have
Every ounce
Every inch
Every fiber of my being
Trying to feel the fiber of your fabric
Your leaves caress around my every branch
So tightly
Pulling at my roots,

And I don’t even fight it.
Because your everything I want to fall into
I want to be the curve at the corner of your lips
Forming a smile that cannot be wiped away
To be laugh lines
Etched into your canvas so every time you look in the mirror
I am reflected.

Maybe I expect too much.

Blood- City and Colour

“Another year’s hard work done
I’ve paid for it with all of my blood
I’ve given you more than I’m worth
I want to dig my fingers into the earth.”