beauty, life, love, poetry, women

Home is a person

I won’t miss the quiet

Squalor

But my friends are with me

Discarded the things

Which didn’t give me joy

Always travelled light

But it is a great leap forward

But I’m not so much landing

As ascending

She makes me want to be better

In a way that

Resists the weak parts

And I’ve grown stronger

If a bit slower

But look

I’m heading up

Somewhere else

But still

Home

Is a person

After all

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beauty, life, love, poetry, Uncategorized, weather, wildness, wisdom, writing

Autumn Cycle

orange-and-red-autumn-forest

They emerge from

hiding during

the summer months,

eyes shining with light

the way ripe fruit

teems with juice

in the heat

they frolic and cavort

with a courage that borders

upon madness

but look oh look

how high they leap

Then they sense

the waning evenings

the longer nights

decay tattooing it’s sigil

on everything

but by then

they tire

and make beds again

beneath rich loam and piles

of leaves

waiting for the season to turn

when they will find play

once

again.

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animals, beauty, creative writing, desire, dogs, emotion, erotic poetry, erotic writing, erotica, freedom, hunger, inspiration, life, love, lust, man, masculinity, nature, passion, pleasure, poetry, seduction, sensuality, sexuality, strength, touch, wildness, wisdom, women, writing

Walk With Me 

masthead-bb-young

The wind through

The trees

Birds singing

Such places serve as churches

Watching the dog

Snuffle see his world

I am capable of fury

My body aches from

Focused labour

Hands as weapons

But also instruments

Of divine exploration

To caress the contours

To open and penetrate

All the world and it’s pleasures

Visible in my eyes

Look as deep as you need to

I am the nexus between

flesh and divinity

Lover and magician

Read this as my spell

Let it sink beneath

Your skin

A drug delivered without needle

No chalky aftertaste of the pill

A perfect delivery of want

I would make you shudder with want

And the supply is constant

The wind through the trees

The birds singing

Would you walk with me?

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beauty, character, creative writing, desire, dominance, erotic poetry, erotic writing, erotica, hunger, life, love, lust, nature, passion, pleasure, politics, seduction, sensuality, sex, sexuality, strength, surrender, taste, touch, Uncategorized, wildness, wisdom, women, writing

I know your wildness

wild-woman-within1

I know the wildness

Within you

I bring my nose

Close to the nape

Of your neck

Snuffling and taking

Delight in the knowledge

Of my senses

I know you, little one

And how you are

That you are wolf mother

And mate

Yet you are possessed with a want

A force that weaker men seek to subdue

But I would unleash

That you desire

That pain and pleasure

Are two sides 

Of the same coin

Come wrestle

Let me feel your flesh

Between my teeth

Let me leave red hand prints

Bouquets of bruises flowering

Let me rasp my tongue

Within each fold and

Drink until I no longer

Thirst

I revel in the flawed power

Of you and I bring old wisdom

And patience to bear

I kiss your scars and marks

The way a bird takes to the air

Come to me

Wait

For 

You

Without expectation

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beauty, creative writing, experience, fragile, grief, life, loneliness, love, nature, pleasure, poetry, sensuality, wisdom, women, writing

A rainbow

​you

 a walking rainbow in person

Brilliant clear blue

Henna red and creamy white

Seen but never reached

Formed in perfect juxtaposition

Of storm and sunshine

Tried to walk

But you were never

Going to meet me 

Halfway

So instead I watch

Until finally you fade

Like you were never there

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beauty, compassion, courage, creative writing, emotion, experience, grief, hunger, inspiration, life, loneliness, man, masculinity, nature, poetry, stoicism, strength, Uncategorized, wisdom, writing

Ghosts of Celluloid

He sits at the back of the theatre

Recalls how it was all new

Once

No colour, no computer generated effects

Not even sound.

He looks at people hunched over their phones.

People move so much faster

He doesn’t get why people

Wear their hair the way that

They do

Why the news is always bad

He knows that the day he wakes up

Without pain

Will be when he’s dead.

Stopping to make conversation

But there’s no time for that

People too busy

He looks out

Wishes not that he could go back

He treasures every precious mistake

Nor does he seek to disappear

No, what he asks for,

As the music swells

Is that things slow down

To the point

That we could all stop

See one another

And start to talk

She moves from the screen

From a time before

The world broke her spirit

Her lips press against his cheek

Not caring that his hands shook

Too much to shave

His chest grows tight

And he follows her

Leaving everything behind

Missing every frustrated second

As he lets the world go on

Without him.

 

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beauty, craft, creative writing, fiction, flash fiction, life, nature, passion, short fiction, short stories, storm, strength, Uncategorized, weather, wildness, wisdom, women, writing

Sigil

Shepherd strode towards the car, the brim of his hat hid his eyes, but his lips were set in a tight line, and he pumped his arms to lengthen his stride.

‘Ma’am, you know you can’t be here.’

She cocked her head to one side, blinked heavily and grinned with all her teeth.

‘Hey Jeff, how’s Molly?’

His cheeks turned red, and he looked at his feet, folded his hands at his hip.

‘She’s good, ma’am. Look, I don’t want to do this Paula…’

Paula’s smile faltered and she sighed.

‘I’m not in the park, Jeff, I just want to look at it.’

Jeff leaned forward, hands on his belt. He fought the smile, tried to make it look like the indigestion that he would get when he ate chili. He had been mortified to read about it in the memo that came down. Banned for life from all 58 of them. Acadia to Yellowstone.

Graffitti, which pissed Molly off more than him. He loved his wife, feared her a little too, which made him love her even more, and so he would allow her to carry the weight of some of his feelings on any given subject.  

‘We have a lovely gallery of photos on our Facebook page.’

He spoke mechanically, a conceit to hide his dismayed confusion.

‘Jeff, please let me be here for this.’

Her tone took him by the throat. A cracking of her voice, unable to bear the weight of her emotion.

‘It’s not even there, we had to get a specialist out to clean it off. Taxpayers money when it’s a time that people aren’t really keen on dipping into their pockets to do that.”

She ran her tongue over her lips and gazed with an earnest depth into his eyes.

‘I understand, but there were reasons, Jeff. I know I’m banned, but I need to be here.’

He took off his hat, plucked at the brim with his fingers and puckered his lips in confusion.

‘Paula. You have to go.’

She leaned forward, lifted her chin. He had never been a man that people pleaded with. He lumbered around the park, going about his work with a quiet, gruff economy that afforded him no respect but allowed him to save his energy for his times with Molly and the kids.

‘Jeff, let me stay for five minutes. I won’t even get out of the car, I can see it through the windshield just fine.’

Jeff wanted to pluck his shirt from where the perspiration stuck it to the small of his back. He could have ignored her, but one of the volunteers, anal-retentive and someone who read every memo that came through, had spotted her and so he had to act.

‘I nearly lost my job because of you’.

She put her hands forward, clasped so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

‘Please, I’ve paid a price for it. But let me explain’.

He sighed. Molly would give him holy hell for it, but he was a fair man.

‘Go on.’

She smiled and moved her hand over the door handle.

‘Can I at least get out of the car?’

He sighed and nodded his head.  He had liked her, and the wattage of her smile made him weaken.  She opened the door. She was compact, bright blonde hair and he noticed that she had cut it to blunt spikes and had lost enough weight to make her skin lose it’s elasticity at her jawline and her throat.  Her eyes blazed like precious stones and her hands shook as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

‘Do you believe in magic, Jeff?’

He grunted and shook his head. His disappointment made him take a step back.

‘Paula, come on, that’s ridiculous.’

She gesticulated around her with her hands.

‘No, come on, you work here. There’s places that you can feel it, right?’

She had a point. He would go out, oftentimes with Holly before her hip got bad, and they would hike through, legs pumping and breathing hard, feeling every inch of his body alive and tingling. The air sang in certain places, he had known that but she was soiling it with her madness. Using an ugly colour in a painting.

‘Paula, think you should stop this. It’s a goddamn insult when you try to claim that this was -‘

‘You’re not answering my question. It’s okay, I know how it sounds but listen, there’s all sorts of energy out there.’

He grimaced and turned his hat in his hands even faster.

‘Then why scrawl all over it? I mean, it’s narcissism, Paula. I thought you were better than that. You don’t get to decide that your bullshit fucks up the park for everyone else’

His voice had risen in pitch and volume. His vocabulary was spare, like a savings account that he had forgotten the account number on, but there was money there. Swearwords were large withdrawals for him. He worried about what his mother would say and she had been dead for eight years.

‘It’s supposed to look like narcissism.’

There was a high, chiming sound. Too loud and clear for the public address system. It hurt his ears and he looked around, saw children with their parents hands over their ears and the air started to shimmer.

Paula was grinning so hard it was almost ugly and there were tears in her eyes.

‘They’re coming,’ she said.

He went to ask her who was coming but the chiming grew louder, and he fell to his knees. He watched her point upwards and saw where she pointed.

The column of light shot upwards, he took Paula’s hand and began to pray.

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