Poems about Passion – Page 5 – Theater of Sorrows

Scars

Does it make me weak or strong? To love despite the hurt; Betrayal?
To be a steadfast island in your sea, when all you give me are tempestuous seasons?
Looking toward heaven, sending my dreams back to the sky
Soul littered, rows and rows of shallow graves
Tender spots, tear-stained words, loneliness and questioning the scars… are rooted deep
Fingertips softly trace the raised edges of the ones that can be seen
The reflection in my eyes is hard to swallow; Am I meant to be alone?
Just a shadow in a corner, just a hungry ghost?
I despise myself, now that you’ve shown me how…
I thought that I might become
Your true confession
The music in your heart and the warm, blue waters in your soul
The meaning of your words, even the ones that went unheard…
The wild abandon, passion unashamed –
The desire of the fire in your eyes, naked and untamed
My name the only one on your lips, breathy in my ear, curving against my neck…
You; Falling into my mysterious unknown with savage abandon
Cursing whatever gods had kept you from me, while you ripped time from the universe –
Demanding that our reincarnation be reincarnated…
I thought that I might become
Your medicine
Your ceremonial prayer, your spiritual communion
The keeper of your deepest secrets
Your last breath
But you spun me around until I forgot who I was
Walking backward in the mirror in my funeral dress; I became
Your greatest secret
Your concrete valentine
Your last choice
Your loathed prison
Our poem of sorrow, an ending without a beginning, still I;

I wandered along your cliffs
Pushed against your storm, headstrong and defiant
I explored your caves
Dug up your secrets, with softened eyes
I rubbed your anxious brow with feathered fingers
Heartbeat placed beneath your hand
I held on when no one lingered
A constant star in your starless sky

I want to be your chaos, my hair your silky blindfold, my body your garden where you wander, my eyes your only storm
My skin where your mouth lingers, my mind your favorite playground, my soul your spirit pony, My heart your only home
The nightmare in your dream just to keep things interesting
The red streaks on your back, after you let me taste what death is like
When you said my name; I thought you called me Heaven
I thought you called me Beautiful
I thought you called me… Mine
You build the fire, then lead me to it, hold me by my hair, until my skin crackles, hisses, runs down my bones
I am your boredom, your ambivalence; You wanted all my suffering to outdo your own
You want to see my pain, it lulls your wailing demons
The moon told you to wait; Take care, there lives no love in bitter fumes
Walking the veil between two worlds is a mad mans foolish choice
The ones that play with fire are the ones that are consumed…
Ghost eyes, you cut the mirrors from your face
But shadow always follows soul
Naked anger licking flames, seething, writhing, pent up wrath
The skies on fire like the ground below
Your indifference is indicative of a mangled spirit –
Best to tend to your overgrown soul
Pull out those piled up weeds from your polluted soil
Those noxious thorns when the sun lays low
Those weeping wounds by the roots; Toil
Claw and dig with shovel or hoe
Before your humanity becomes inhuman
Cornflower ghost dance on a waiting grave –
Reluctant fallow shadows beckon
Faithless deeds for you to reckon
Wrecked pupils dismember my weary heart
And there’s no more left of you to save

The Color of Our Truth

Cutting deep, desolation and despair
You’re the one I want to keep but this may have gone beyond repair
Our conception born from words, far into the early morning hours
We eagerly devoured the lovely chaos swirling round in our minds
Creeping through feral, demented forests – Sometimes running blind
Diving into madness… Are you there?
Can I reach out and tangle my fingers in your hair?
All these walls with busted corners
All these windows with no view
And the bells are ringing near the hill side
While the crows perch on the pews
Osteomancy underneath a nightshade sky –
Brittle bones born to die… Sliding through fingers smooth as glass
Knocking on the stones, spilling our mystery
Sucking the rain into their cracked, dusty fragments
To expel our story –
Sticky and messy, gritty and reserved, scraping and tearing…
Like trying to hold fire in a cage
The unfolding of our becoming… or undoing…
Lust lovely, love… bite the savage, sweet and sinister. Listen to them speak –
But the winds run dry and the bones won’t cry –
This vague shadow as empty as a scarecrow – a riddle swallowing itself
A feast without the famished…
Time cannot collapse destiny like water carves the stone
It’s been a long time coming, but now you don’t have to be alone
The color of our truth is blue
It sounds like your whisper in my ear
It smells like September
It looks like the gentleness in your fierceness
It feels like your heartbeat beneath my palm
And it tastes like laughter in tall glasses
There are glimpses in the valley now… traces, running down badger like Indian ink –
Compilations and coffee rings in the Underground…
Melting roadside tragedies on the Queens gate…
Indelible scriptures
That give way to the Sacred
While you surrender your burdens to me
Surrender your anguish, your pain
Let these wretched things fall away late at night in our musky catacomb
Where we tangle our bodies in luscious disarray
And your shoulder tempts my lips
The soft heat of you, ink and scars, delights that I find… your bodies lovely ornaments –
Priceless frescoes that are now mine to seek with euphoria, trace with awe
Desire with madness, taste with rapture
You are my poetry, whether written in blood or ink
Whether smudged in dark decadence, carved into my own skin, pouring from my wounded mind –
Or seeping from my tortured soul…
Layers upon layers, woven together, waiting for the sunflowers to anoint our rusted time
Your eyes are questions to my answers
Your soliloquies are my memories
Your beauty stirs me… makes me weep with desire
Steals the angels innocence and makes them swoon
Come be my sweetest lover, my deepest sorrow, my darkest moment
Lets stray to
Where our madness devours our sanity
Where our love is fierce and wild
Where home is in each others eyes
Tonight, come into my dreams and take me into yours…

Scripture

Thank you so much, to those whom have taken the time to read my work. I’ve only shared my writing with a handful of people, so this experience has been life changing. You are all so gracious, supportive and have shown me that my work has a place in the world. And that means everything to me. Now if I could only figure out how to format so that my poems would show up looking how I want them to look… 🙂

I am severed from the world; I am the pale
Not the dark with its coagulated tentacle appendages, nor the light with its placenta Amaranth aspirations
I am severed from myself; Suffering the inertia of young skin sucked from its bones –
Innocence like a gelatinous knot slurped through the gapped, woolen teeth of mockery
Irrevocably estranged from existence, too grotesque for my own shadow, it moans like a ghost haunting disappointment
A nest of silkwood threads in my chest and I… I dismally built my armamentarium of woe…
You are my scripture
Warm skin sacred against my tear-stained, lonely cheek
An invocation from passages of a well-worn, celestial tome –
Each chapter –
Parched words that search for divine meaning
Countless revisions on loose pages –
A metaphor for my yearning soul adrift…
The archeology of my freezing winters –
This manuscript of illusions and allusions –
The mythology of self…
You are my interpreter
Spinning a silvery web of my illustrations into tangible narratives that free my shadow –
Give it a name and a reverence so sweet that it breaks the moons heart, spilling molten tears…
Your primeval, eastern eyes are endless caverns holding my ancient, mystical secrets –
Vessels that keep them safe
When fear and premonition salivate –
Splitting the silence into bones
You turn the stones in my leeched soil
Plunging flame into my darkness
With hymn and drum, oath and poetic annotations, roots and sanctuary…
You anoint and minister to my fallacies, self-fulfilled prophecies, irrational absurdities
As I whisper my demons into your ear, blow my haunts between your lips –
At your dulcet, incantatory invitation, while petting my hair gently
You are my witness
The one looking through the ghost
To find the person
To caress the molecules, secretions, membranes, tendons, blood and bone
All of the cuts, cracks, breaks and holes, indentations and deformities, twisted, rusted, wired, stapled wounds…
Fragility in vulnerable, aged form
Like a creeping creature cautiously eyeing the dread on the moon…
Corrosion biting blistered fingers that long to trace your musky arches, angles and planes
Seduce you in this love-stained Eden; This succulent elixir of demons and angels…
You are my cosmic kiss
Lips purring and pressing moonflower runes down the curvature of my spine
Our exodus fragrant like lilies and camphor…
Wafting through the narrow magnet-space between us
Until skin seduces skin, its fleshy ions dovetailing, twisting and crashing like a scorching waterfall sparkler
3 realms unfolding to meld together; Mind, heart, soul
We become the twilight –
Blanketing the earth with our perfumed euphony
Until our indesinent ascension —
Our tumescent flame…

Lights the sun