The Subtlety of Softness

[Julien]

This is the beginning of my own collection of poetry and musings about love, passion, and lust. Enjoy.

[Julien]

New
the subtlety of softness is blond,
her caress conforms to the contours of her lover's skin
molding, melting two lovers into the flesh of one
heat licks and singes the tips of her fingers
under the softness is a palpable strength that divides and stimulates
she is the kiss of first love
moist, tender, searching
scared yet curious, willing yet reserved,
caution makes her hesitate
hesitation not from some inner fear or uncertainty of her lover's needs and desires
but of the possibility of two

Julien F. 11/3/11

[Julien]

Your eyes say what your voice cannot.
Emotions cry out yet your tongue is silent.
Why does fear hinder your speech?
You body, your touch communicate much more
than words can ever say.
I can feel the expression of love within your arms;
your touch speaks to me in a language my body understands.
No longer am I empty.
No longer do my arms want for something I did not know existed
To enfold you in my arms in to complete a circle
to create something unending and fulfilling.
Do not be afraid, we speak the same language
even though we are silent.

Julien F. 11/3/11

[Julien]

Is Truth an Illusion?
Truth like illusions cannot be grasped tightly or manipulated
for it can dissipate like a winter's breath.
Truth taken lightly without a second thought withers,
as does pure innocence.
The presence of truth ensures the acceptance of trust.
Growth and understanding of ourselves and others
will not be empty or lonely.
Without truth and trust there can be no union of lovers, no creation of forever.
Like an illusion its existence cannot be touched.
While we are unable to "hold" truth in our hands,
we are able to enfold the truth within ourselves.
Its beauty lifts us to a place uninhibited by deception or deceit.
Truth is not an illusion, it is an extension of trust that must be nurtured and taken into our lives.
Our entity thrives on the reality of truth, without it we cannot be complete.


Julien F. 11/4/11

[Julien]

Leaves of Thought

Thoughts like leaves in a breeze drift aimlessly through my mind,
lingering briefly on echoes of the past.
Rough, brown sorrows teeter on the edge of complete disintegration deceive me into believing my pain is dead.
Decay of the past defeats and tortures give way to rebirth of new thoughts.
A lush vibrancy of supple skin full of moisture and youth.
Growth and expansion of new untouched areas create a curious sensation in my mind.
Light freedom from oppressive grey yesterdays,
I feel hopeful that what I have not yet seen or touched will be tainted by my unresolved sorrows.
Thoughts like leaves drift, some are brown and torn, others are green and vibrant.
All occupy the space of my inner self
They interact in a whirlwind of activity, constantly touching blending and influencing what has come before or yet to be realized.
My thoughts are my leaves, green with youth, brown with decay,
forever aging for the new thought, the new growth to take its place,
or ultimately becoming my past.

Julien F. 11/4/11

[Julien]

The Storm of Passion
The passion of a spring storm begins,
Clear blue sky gives way to grey laced clouds.
They expand covering the body of blue encompassing calmness with it anticipation of release.
Quickly the heat builds, the swollen thickness of the voluptuous soft form.
Their shape pulses and throbs with powerful vibrations coursing through without obstruction.
Dampness coats the air, condensation of liquid creating droplets of dew,
engorging themselves until they drop only to build pools of slick rivulets blending into the crevices.
Clouds swell with tension, their colors become flushed with an intense need for release.
They weigh heavily, filled with the promise of climax.
The unmistakable natural scent drifts through the air
creating memories of past passions.
Flashes of lightening repeatedly convulse within the folds.
Their intensity heightens as the air becomes close and volitile.
Soon the rumblings merge with the undulations of the flashes of sensitivity,
separation is impossible as they build with a crescendo to the most powerful cleansing of the entire expanse.
The atmosphere contracts and reverberates with a roar of thunder and moisture.
After the culmination of heat and the moist air, the tingling vibrations slowly subside to a low rumble of memory.

Julien F. 11/5/11

[Julien]

Do You Know Me?
Do you understand the physical response my body feels by the simple nearness of you?
Can you imagine my inner longing for your touch when I look at your hands?
Do you see my arousal when you look at me through lowered lids over those beautiful green eyes?
Can you feel the electricity that flows through my body when you touch my face?
Do you know me?
Are you aware of my love for you when I return your embrace?
Can you read my thoughts when I struggle to speak to you?
Does my my sense of loneliness bleed from me to your awareness when you turn away from me?
Do you know me?
Can you feel the pain your silences put me through?
I am not as complicated as you may believe me to be.
I admit at times I do not know myself,
but I am willing to go through turmoil to find the answers.
To grow fully is to face difficulties, to question those things we do not understand.
Do you know me?
If you don't please ask me, I will share with you my private thoughts, my own fears of loneliness, my feelings, my dreams.
I will tell you how it feels to be in love with someone,
who doesn't really know me.


Julien 11/6/11

[Julien]

Pain and Silence
A clipped response, a curt reply, a sarcastic remark, a demeaning retort
Hurt and sorrow follows the reception of these verbal cuts.
The most torturous and brutal attacks of all is that of silence,
not only silence of words, but also the absence of any empathy for our suffering and vulnerability.
We recoil with fear and agony in the same way as if a fist brutalizes the skin.
The bruise of an attack of silence is not seen by an observer or even the one who delivers the blow, but we know it's there.
We flinch with the soreness of the internal bruise, black with fear, purple with shame.
We cry out in torment from this attack even more when it comes from someone we love.
Those who say they love us without sharing their most private inner thoughts and feelings about our relationship are the tormentors,
they are unable to share more than the physical.
The act of total commitment is not only the touch of our bodies,
but also the blending of our thoughts, fear, and wishes,
we are the most vulnerable when our lover knows what we think, fear,
and use it to their advantage.
An inner most dread is the one of abandonment, the loss of something we not have had in the first place, but we may not know that yet.
This is the point when we can be torn and battered the most.
Nothing is more sensual or fulfilling than the honest exchange of thought,
to strip away the facade of attitude and self recrimination is a pure act of love.
Without the honesty we can have only the physical, the empty act of sex.
What can be more scarring than the deafening act of silence?
Silence and the giving of the body without the touching of the mind.


Julien F. 11/7/11

[Julien]

Blue-eyed Southerner
Eyes that transform from slate to navy pierce through the film of armor.
She looks deep into her lover's soul, searching for the passion of love and the security of trust.
The Southerner's eyes caress the strong line of her beloved's jaw.
She searches for the comfort of harmony.
Eyes of navy spark with the excitement and recognition of truth and acceptance.
Blue touches the paleness of green.
The twin mirrors reflect a deep emotional blending that grows with each glance.
She is told she has the ability to look beyond the facade and into the core.
She seeks true meanings and feelings that can never be translated into meer words.
She has a gift of insight to be shared with the woman she has accepted into her life.
It is the ultimate gift of trust and caring, which comes freely from the inner most regions of her soul.
For the Blue-eyed Southerner has given her most treasure gift to the calm greens eyes of her lover,
to be shared, protected and nourished for the durations of their harmonious creation.

Julie F. 11/9/11

[Julien]

Freedom Without Fear
It is my wish to hold you while you cry with sobs so deep my heart breaks with each ragged breath you draw.
I want to be more than a person who shares your laughter.
To see the full spectrum of your emotions is my commitment to the love I feel for you.
There is no apprehension from me,
I walk freely into your troubles with the same love that I walk into your embrace.
Give me the chance to share your life of euphoric happiness, immense sadness and paralyzing fear.
These are the complexities of life, the turmoils existing in a world of uncertainty.
Do not turn away from me, because of some pain you may have suffered in the past.
I was not a part of that pain, I want to be part of your healing, your future.
Turn to me for the support and the comfort I want to give.
Through our times together we can create our own yesterdays, todays and tomorrows.
For we can do this freely without fear because we have the knowledge that we are human and are vulnerable,
but we are willing to share and support each other regardless of the troubles we face together.

Julien F. 11/10/11

[Julien]

For Wendy

The Turn of the Page

With a flick of the wrist you open a world of mystery.
Page by page you unravel a place filled with people who have no history or future, simply the now, the story before you.
Discovery of the past and realizing what is to be compels you to turn the page.
Your eyes take in each word creating scenarios that you freely submerge yourself within.
Love is lost, love is found between these leaves.
You find contentment within this world, a journey filled with possibilities,
You strive to find meaning in a moment of literary themes.
Themes that influence your thoughts, your dreams and your heart
As the pages turn from beginning to end you are lost in the words of change.
For once you read and internalize the mystery it changes you forever with a simple turn of the page.


By Julien F. 11/11/11

[msW8ing]

Originally Posted by Graphiteta2s

For Wendy

The Turn of the Page

With a flick of the wrist you open a world of mystery.
Page by page you unravel a place filled with people who have no history or future, simply the now, the story before you.
Discovery of the past and realizing what is to be compels you to turn the page.
Your eyes take in each word creating scenarios that you freely submerge yourself within.
Love is lost, love is found between these leaves.
You find contentment within this world, a journey filled with possibilities,
You strive to find meaning in a moment of literary themes.
Themes that influence your thoughts, your dreams and your heart
As the pages turn from beginning to end you are lost in the words of change.
For once you read and internalize the mystery it changes you forever with a simple turn of the page.


By Julien F. 11/11/11

Thank You..i am flattered beyond expressing with words. You Sir are an amazing soul.

[Julien]

The Man I Want to Be

This journey I am on from female to male is a difficult one.
For me the way is filled with both dangerous pitfalls as well as joyous events.
While I am unable to see what my body will become, I can affirm what type of man I am becoming.
To weave together the woman I’ve lived and the man that I am is to blend the best of both in this gender queer body.
I am not my father’s daughter
I am not my mother’s daughter
But neither am I their son.
I am my own unique individual with the sensibility of what it means to be a woman as a man in this world of ours.
Left behind is their daughter with long hair, frilly clothes and make-up.
What is ahead is the man I want to be, something that was hidden behind the façade of femininity.
My masculinity has finally revealed itself after years of pretending to be something I am not and will never be.
I know deep down that I was born to take on the self as male and hopefully the lessons I have learned as a female will help create the man I want to be.

By Julien F.