red … red … wine .

May 14, 2010

 

a  satin touch

of this

unbroken crystal …

 

a little fire ignites …

i tasted …

i suckled in your velvety flavor ….

 

an ardent  dance

of

crimson tides ….

 

i held you closer to my lips….

warmed by the candlelight .

 

a smooth rapture

descended

to quenched this withered  soul

and cure my woes …

 

once again

imbibe   thee my lips

red … red.. wine .

 

sleepless

 

 

then …

i woke up

with this deafening silence .

 

a still room

with just the curtain blown by

the breeze …

 

i twisted

i turned

i tumbled on this crumpled sheets ….

 

sleep evades me …

 

i closed my eyes …

and

i saw your face ….

i hear your voice …

i hear you sing …

 

and so .

i twisted

i turned

i tumbled on this crumpled sheets ….

 

i hugged your  pillow

 

i inhaled your scent on it …

i breathed  your warmth ….

 

i closed my eyes

and

a tear rolls down my face …

 

and so.

i twisted

i turned

i tumbled on this crumpled sheets ….

 

and  a sob ached my chest .

 

… stars

  Star gazing isn’t that enchanting anymore without you …

 

hello

Experiment 101 : Passion , Pleasure and Poetry

the thought of a man’s skin ….

warm skin - brushing against mine

tickles my spine with pleasure or yet even more  …

that doesn’t leave me wondering’ right ?

but what I’ve been  wondering , dreaming

and desired the most  is

how would this MAN would  write about me .

I’ve been in love with poetry ever since ….

fallen ” in ” and “out ” of love with men who wrote and loved  poetry …

…. I pained and hurt …

but then there was

passion

pleasure

and

poetry

… after the anguish torment of  illusions and  fantasy …

These three words :

(1) Passion

(2) Pleasure

(3) Poetry

A friend once told you  that desire is a very dangerous thing .

Are you up to it ?

Three words can sum up the experiment:

(1) Passion

(2) Pleasure

(3) Poetry

Without the first, the third is flat and colorless. Without

the second, the first is only a dream, and the third, a lifeless

set of words. And without the third, the first and second are

but fleeting emotions, forgotten at midday, and gone by sunset.

I’ve often wondered how it is like to feel a woman skin and

write the emotions directly, as if very tactile touch is a word

that is to be born into this world.

For this, we’d need four walls, a bed,  you, me and our wits.

This is a visualization of “poetry lives in the lining of your skin”.

And what better way to feel than to be beside somebody who

adores and writes poetry.

( Note : Found this on my email last night …. makes me smile though )

" Groping for Words "