Tag Archives: kisses
breathless kisses
In a lone and silent hour,
with night making a weird sound
of its own stillness,
like an inspired and desperate alchemist
staking his very life on some dark hope
I mix awful talk and asking looks
with my most innocent love
until her strange tears
unite
with her breathless kisses.
– percy at shadow of iris
breathless kisses
[Creatively adapted from Percy Bysshe Shelley's Alastor]
that time when you left me
The hallway leans
into a slant
as I slide
into your wet kisses
that mean even more now
than they did then.
Prisons don’t always have bars
yet even back then
we feared to leave,
security in the crowd
anonymity
in mediocrity.
The writing on the wall was there
only no one read it;
the truth hurt
and resistance was hard;
I’ll be damned
if it just wasn’t
that we didn’t want to see it.
In my dreams
I’m always walking
away from you
leaving it all behind
and making my own way
but when I wake
I find I’m still there
wondering
about your wet kisses
and where did you go
that time when you left me.
– matt at shadow of iris
that_time_when_you_left_me
breathless
You forever
and you only;
I have watched your shadow
and the lightness of your steps;
your depth
a buried mystery
rendered into a form
that in the silent hours
makes a inspired sound –
sighs that whisper
of breathless kisses
that last
an eternity.
– matt at shadow of iris
breathless
[Inspired by lines from Percy Bysshe Shelley's Alastor.]
an eternal refrain
The washed out image of your face
coming back to life
as my finger tips trace
hollowed grounds of velvet.
Chimerical and illusory
the fleeting sensation of love
as my lips brush across skin
long left neglected.
Diminutive birds
with wings so swift
I never see them
as they hover near
and whisper soft secrets
telling me how to touch you
in unforeseen ways
that give rise to shivers.
Black smoke on the horizon
clouds everything
except for what we have now
tucked away in our own secret world
playing an old rhapsody
singing
an eternal refrain.
– matt at shadow of iris
an eternal refrain
a kiss
A chess board
each square, a glossy shape
cream and ebony swirls
of mature nude women
each sleek and beautiful
searching their way back
to a fetal position
and in the center
where they meet
a kiss.
– matt at shadow of iris
a kiss
[Inspired by the art of Fred Wiedmann.]
Goodbye and see you later
Goodbye and see you later,
God knows, I’ve cried enough for you,
fought battles and died three times!
Let chance take its shots,
you left me pot-marked
in a world blacker than a pitch-dark night,
one step between me and the grave.
Oh, I don’t blame you;
how could I have ever resisted you?
It was no fault of your own
that God gave you a body like that.
Had we never spent that night together,
had you never taught me such secrets,
then what would this emptiness be to me,
but something shallow, instead of this chasm I can’t cross?
I throw dirt upon your long box
and wonder about what lies within.
That inert bulk, however shapely, was never you,
but then again what was and where have you gone?
I’d give you one last kiss,
a slow motion farewell upon lips warmed only by my tears,
but they keeping heaping more and more dirt upon you
until you are gone.
– matt at shadow of iris
Goodbye_and_see_you_later
[Inspired by Robert Burns Ae Fond Kiss.]
melun diptych
They asked him to paint the virgin Mary
along with her small child
instead he painted the king’s lover
on a throne, she’d never have
with an heir, she’d never bear.
She sits there calmly
on the Queen’s chair,
a jewel encrusted crown
upon her hair plucked forehead
and an ermine-lined cloak
resting gently upon her shoulders;
the laces that hold
the upper two halves of her dress together
have been loosened
so that one side falls away
to expose a single, full
and perfectly rounded
breast
more erotic, than tender
more seductive, than maternal
a magnetic lunar globe
that pulls all eyes
in.
The boy that sits on her lap
could careless
about his mother’s nipple
but sits already
with the weight of kings
upon his shoulders;
there is a detached air
about this naked rotund prince
as he points with disintrest
below his mother’s waste
to something hidden there
under the folds of her dress;
he can follow the golden chain
far back
and understands
his own
carnal origins.
Both the virgin and her babe
are white as snow
against a background
of endless cherubim and seraphim
some so cold and so blue
you can feel the ice on their breath
and others so hot and so red
that surely they seethe from within;
small sensual angels
in the flesh
shimmering and smooth
profane.
The virgin herself is so beautiful
that a thousand words
could never
ever
do her justice,
she is as delicate as a porcelain doll
and yet as lithe and poised
as a swan gliding across still water.
So thin as to barely be seen,
a veil surounds her oval face
and has been pushed back
to offer an invitation;
but for now she demurs
her wide eyes staring downwards
nearly closed
at a spot not near
but someplace far, far away.
This is how she will tempt you
when you step in closer
and closer
to gently lift her chin
and without thought
let her lips
meet your own.
– matt at shadow of iris
melun_diptych
[The enemies of King Charles VII of France likely poisoned Agnès Sorel with mercury years before Jean Fouquet even began his beautiful painting of her contained in the Melun Diptych.]
a sulky look
An inhibited idea
held back by nature
and by degree
pushes forth at night
as pinkish slices of grapefruit
and probing kisses.
The absurdity of my dreams
is as complete as
the potency of thier feeling tone
sliding lips across my cheek
but whose?
The vacuum of associations
during the day
is a deliberate refusal to leave
until at night
when my eyes have shut
the surge of passion
and unanswered sexual urgency
yield the suggested effect
the capacious behavior of images
coming out to play
as the rain begins to slacken.
The notorious strangeness of dreams
my feelings for you
emotional stupidity
or
a form of inspiration
cradle me in your arms
sing to me
whisper.
Uncontrollable elements
yield extraneous events
leading to an autonomous complex
from perfect clarity
to deepest confusion
clamoring life is all around
I’m drowning in your arms
the look in your face
as you look down
a sulky look.
– Marya Ophir
poems and kisses — February 13, 2009
- To be kissed on the forehead by the future me at Todd Colby’s Glee Farm; I like it.
- They Can Kiss by Bill Costley at The New Verse News; kisses here, but no glee.
- “Porcupine” by adam fieled at As/Is; poisonous kisses.
- Owner of Souls by Dragon Blogger at Wanderer Thoughts; great poem, definitely the guy in the poem is in need of kisses.
some more poems …
- Potential by Dalia, 4th grade, at A Poem A Day; excellent.
- Persephone at Before I am Famous; epic.
- Pulse by nfhuth at A Formal Feeling; fantastic.
- A Moment of Silence by Ishvara at If I was God I’d Cry Too; well done.
- Snapshot Poem 11 February 02009 by Sharon Brogan at Watermark, a poet’s notebook.
- Some People Just at Spicy Cauldron; do they?
- Downed by Robert Cameron Hazelton at Average Poet.
- You Promised Not To Wake Me by Ivan Donn Carswell at Poetry from the Orchard.
- Salt and Pepper (The Anniversary Poem) by at Elias Tobias a world of words; uh … sweet.
- A nice selection of poetry by Christopher Cunningham at Poet Hound.
- A Different Road by Tom Atkins at Summit Manor; is Tom referring to the road less travelled?
- Bling, Pink And Life-Threatening High Heels at Peanuts and Bubblegum, also check out 11 February 2009 Bereft; weary.
- No More War by tpm at A Poetic Justice.
- “Running on Premium” by cardmember at graywyvern.
- back to where I belonged by LKD at Possum; memories.
- i like u when he touches me by Donna Kuhn at digital aardvarks.
- Untitled at the Dust Congress. Hm.
- A Warning at Hitler’s Mustache; a message.
- American Portraits (Deadpan) at Wild Horses of Fire.
- Untitled at Seeds of a Madness Flower; everything is burning.
- Muezzin at Dark matter; interesting.
