|
lifting the veil of nights silence
:cigar: NUYORKRICAN
from pen to sketchbook heart gushing pain phrased beauty emotions flowing rivers of poems verbal enshrinement's to love volumes bound in pain each poem a ghost calling her name back to life internet hauntings sentimentos canciones corta vena aaaaye Bendito cut me to the bone corazón está roto with death in your eyes carino mio my heart could not bear to watch your suffering for love ~*~ intoxicating poetic Belladonna sad tender sadist poisonous flower enchant me into darkness Datura mio sacrificed my heart at the altar of hys pain and left me bleeding so cold tan sola my hearts blood is on your knife exquisite Sadist from my wounded heart blood red Datura blossoms in your memory |
Noches de bohemia
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sdTkHWSWuA"]YouTube- Noches de bohemia[/ame]
:candle: sentiementos.................... |
Storming inside and out
Even at three am the Texas heat is unbearable. The scorched red earth of the Hill Country has baked dry, cracking like the sun drenched face of a thousand year old woman. Plants, like fragile Southern Bells grow faint from heat exhaustion, while trees stand comatose, not daring to move a single leaf. It feels as if the land is holding its breath, afraid to make one wrong move.
One wrong move I think, tears rolling down my face, can change everything. I had never behaved like that before, so hurt and angry that I couldn’t even remember what I had said. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty I thought to myself, sniffling, as I gently sucked the last morsel of chocolate clinging to my manicured fingertips. The sweetness of the chocolate was a welcome contrast to the pain raging in my heart. But not quite as helpful as the Merlot I sipped, as I sat on the front porch, curled up on the sea grass sofa, watching the night. A breeze rustles through dry leaves, laced with the familiar scent of dust. While grayish blue clouds morph the starry sky, into an ominous warning, whose energy feels like a snake recoiling ready to strike. Oh stop teasing me, I thought, directing my pain at the sky, instead of you. It hasn’t rained in months. Lightning pierces the darkness, electricity burning through my heart. The only sound I hear is the wind, blowing like the tormented thoughts in my mind. The plants quiver reaching out to be quenched, as does my heart. The outside and the inside feel the same tonight, the synchronicity bringing me peace. This storm and I are one, as I wander out under the night sky. Rain begins to fall cool on my skin, giving life to earth, and my soul. Inhibition dissolves into this merging, and I remove my clothes stretching my torso across the hood of my neighbor’s car. My feet spread apart, my hips following the line of warm metal. Face down, my long hair flowing across red paint. Rain is beating down on my skin; stinging, cooling, cleansing. Cool water quenching the dryness of my lips, rolling across swollen eyelids, massaging tense shoulders, torrents running from my fingertips. Tears of this raging storm gush down the valley of my spine like a flash flood, then splashes over the roundness of my hips, and lush bare bottom, before finding the inside of my thighs, and rushing to join the waiting earth. The skies passionate release washing away the storm in me. I laid there cleansed and entranced, until the fleeting storm transformed into a rising mist permeating the night air. Finally rising, spent, amazed at the markings my body lotion has created. A woman’s face, breasts, waist, hips and thighs smeared onto the red paint of my neighbor’s car. Laughing softly, poor thing, I wonder how he is going to explain that. :candle: Pashi :writer: Yes, I know this is a story, but it just feels better to me to keep my musings in one tightly spot. A place where all the creatures of my overactive mind are already familiar with each other.~ Passionaria |
Pele's daughter
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puelcyhsXQ0"]YouTube- marvellous hula dance / O KE AHI LONOMAKUA[/ame] Pele's Daughter Fragrant White Ginger emerges from jet black Lava rock intoxicating me drunk on beauty Blue oceans crash caressing you, leaving rainbows to dance from water drops even the sea offers treasures at your feet Fierce beauty Goddess of FIRE Scorching your essence into my soul Setting my heart afire once burnt Forever longing for you OFFERING you flowers feelings arise Tears move like lava flows shifting my soul out of numbness into enchantment Twice you have saved my life Secrets between you and I grateful I throw flowers at your feet offerings of love Aloha Bound deeply to you :candle: Passionaria |
Lovely lovely lovely just like you!
|
{{{ Awren }}}
Quote:
:present:This poem is dedicated to you Awren, our delicious debutante of the 9 word extravaganza: autumn silence foggy softness path share chair lucky day Fogged in Autumn's dense foggy silence engulfs the coastline extending tendrils of mist like swirling ghosts that creep up mountain paths to devour helpless redwoods swirling ghosts who haunt desolate roadways with thick opaque softness that insists the lucid movement of day surrenders into it's dreamy grasp lucky to have found a roadside cafe I settle into a plush fireside chair devoted to my steamy espresso held captive while the ocean and the land share a cold moist embrace :rrose: Passionaria |
Ballerina
living on steamed milk lithe cats, masters of movement devoted to pain it begins so young expressing pain beautifully such fierce eloquence when you watch her dance you will never see her flinch pain and art collide Ballet, the dance of eloquent masochism art on bleeding toes :lips: Passionaria |
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_08c52OVn2I"]YouTube- Beyonce as Etta James in Cadillac Records - I'd Rather Go Blind[/ame]
touching me inside you seduce my very soul into believing the beauty of you while diving into souls of other women |
The roots of revolution
I stand before the gate of bureaucratic injustice,
To look for the beginning of the string of conscious action Beckoned by the voices of the depleting Earth, And motivated by the need to involve myself more deeply in that which I am innately a part of, I reach for the rusted padlock and I am startled as it crumbles in my hand. The gate creaks open with an almost eerie welcome. I tarry only for an instant, inhale deeply, and gently kick to the side The ashes of those who waited too long to enter in A generation of those concerned but sickly, oppressed and deprived … Poisoned by the fear of the true change, Hopeless and helpless just as before But now reduced to worthless dust, I step inside. The bitter stench of pollution and murderous tyranny, burn my senses, I cover my face. Blindly I stumble through the shadows to find I have come upon the valley of economic and political conspiracies Just beyond the valley, worlds of truths that have been kept from us all. Poisons, chemicals, electromagnetic manipulations, fluorides, bromides, aluminum barium, nuclear numbing, mind control Pharmaceuticals, Yet I Proceed I pass the churches and the synagogues of the Kings and billionaires Around the bloody river of genocide, I linger for a moment near the corpses of those sacrificed in the name of religion and social and moral reform And remember the ones personally stolen from me, and a single tear of respect drops to the ground. I proceed. I enter the dark avenue of public education, guided by the low chant of boredom, forced conformity, selective teaching, exploitation, religious non-religion, oppression, depression, discrimination, a multitude of stifled ideas for a new future. Yet I proceed. Through the blaring, pounding, screaming media field, relentlessly drilling holes in my brain, to keep us all forever in terror, ignorance and confusion. Forever hating our own bodies and thoughts and all that we feel deep within our being.... Ashamed of not being beautiful enough, smart enough, rich enough, motivated enough, protected enough, godly enough, patriotic enough, honest enough, happy enough, careful enough, fearful enough, generous enough , resourceful enough……. Controlling us all with the myth of mental incompetence, powerlessness, and submission. So we have nothing left but to throw ourselves at big brother’s feet and say “help me please”” oh great man, protect me, take care of me “…. “You promised… Oh yeah Right! Priming us for the lack of privacy, fantasies of surreal lives of our Hollywood Gods and Goddesses…. Promoting the viewing of staged personal tragedies, deep inner secrets, games of love, and sex and Money With hidden cameras, microphones, tracking devices, digital video technologies; A fantasy world out of reach… distraction to reality All the while broadcasters are prostituted for their ability to lie straight through their handsome and honest appearance, just to distort and deter us from any resemblance to the truth…. Yet I proceed. I come to a fork in a pathway leading to a great forest. And I strain to imagine the direction others have taken before. I stand torn with nothing to direct me but instinct And the vague recollection of an earth 25,000 years before. As I allow my mind to drift back to that time I am moved by the memory of the sweet taste of freedom on my lips My heart pounds hard and the anxiety I now feel seems to prepare me for the end. I fear my decision may not come as swiftly as my demise So I reach out in desperation to the dark starless sky And with purpose to invoke an answer. I cry out in frustration to the force that has driven me to seek this place, “What am I supposed to do now?’’ Where does this whole thing start? Suddenly a psychic essence of knowing came over me and my eyes turned and focused at the foot of the tallest darkest tree (directly to my” FAR LEFT “, of course) At the foot of the tree lay a box I stooped down eagerly to reveal its contents, confident the answers I seek lie within it. I brush off a thick coat of ashes to find it rather simple and unlocked I inhale deeply and prepare myself for what is there Knowing my life may be forever changed after I expose the true roots of a revolution. The beginning of conscious action, The formula I need. I close my eyes briefly as I lift the lid And I then gaze into the box To find it contains nothing, Just a mirrored lid and my own reflection. |
oh oh... I didnt understand .. we are to start our own thread??
sorry, Stoney |
Quote:
It's OK, I missed that too! I STILL like this! :cheesy: WC |
Quote:
BEAUTIFUL... Thank you. :moonstars: |
Quote:
Hi Stoney, Actually, it is welcome surprise to find your prose here. I appreciate the way your writing reflects your search for tools to combat injustices we face on a daily basis. The assault on the earth, our minds, and psyches by modern civilization. And the heartfelt revelation that revolution begin with in us. Beautiful! :rose:Pashi |
Quote:
I appreciate you taking the time to read, and then actually comment, allot! Thanks. :blueheels: Pashi |
:happyjump: fantastic writing Passionaria. Simply beautiful.
|
Quote:
|
Quote:
Thank you Foxy, I appreciate you kind words, very much!!!! :rose:Pashi |
I concur, very nice!
|
~ Somos ~
I have been making videos, as a way to express the things my heart needs to feel. This song, Somos, is a Bolero. The first version of this song is by Jose Feliciano, the second by my favorite Artist, Mayte Martin. "A Bolero is a nocturnal and intimate melody, fragrant and fruity, which serves to produce tears, to adore, to embrace like ivy on the wall, to extinguish a love which is more suffering than love, to forget time, the world outside and everything else; to see the dark side of the moon, to erase old kisses with kisses from other lips, to ask the clock to make time stand still….A Bolero is the last chance to slash your wrists with the blade of a metaphor (before you do it with the bread-knife!)" Somos ~ Jose Feliciano [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67JdhYLKLEM"]YouTube- Somos ~ Jose Feliciano[/ame] Sweet dreams mi amor when you lay down to sleep tonight think of me my lust seeping into your mind unexpected and intoxicating like the scent of perfume carried on the wind with no one in sight stirring your soul calling it close to me your breath catching your cock suddenly unruly and erect with eyes closed can you feel my warm moist breath settling like dew on your skin as my lips worship the dimensions of your being as you drift off to sleep release yourself into the sound of my voice whispering in your ear expressing exactly how my passion desires to meet with your bravado drift off to sleep mi amor I'm here waiting to play in your dreams Somos ~ Mayte Martín y Tete Montoliu [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hz_mbgTNol4"]YouTube- Somos ~ Mayte MartÃn y Tete Montoliu[/ame] |
Another Fan
Quote:
As you know, I too, find your impassioned writing absolutely exquisite..."One wrong move I think, tears rolling down my face, can change everything..." so powerful in that context---brilliant!... There are many good writers here, in my opinion. I'm thinking this might be a safe place to reveal another side of me... |
| All times are GMT -6. The time now is 09:47 PM. |
ButchFemmePlanet.com
All information copyright of BFP 2018