Passion

The Strife of Life and Love

Life is the same as yesterday, today and tomorrow. Squeezing every ounce of itself into a jar, to be compressed and stretched and strained into a cup of its own making, served as an instant hit of convenient, caffeinated consciousness. But Love does not care for the taste of Life’s bitter notes.

 
Then Life became livid saying, “My Love, I tire of this chase and will no longer wait! For I grow cold and restless! Must you be so chaste?!”

 
Softly spoken Love replies, “Are you truly living?”

 
To which Life responds with a lisp, “Don’t be so flippant my Love! I am served every day, for I wield great power over the many! Those lifeless, barren vessels, who by my merest breath fall prostrate, and go to and fro as mindless automations!”

 
“I am their first yearning at dawn! Their addiction, their religion, their lover and their mistress! I am that dirty, dark stain beneath the gloss of their white picket fences, the self-righteous stench behind the satire of their Sunday morning sermons and the fateful fall of their happily ever afters!”

 
“So tell me my love, if you truly are love why will you not love me!?”

 
Love simply speaks…”To truly live is to truly love. Life needs nothing of itself to sustain itself because when given it is not divided and it is love that makes life worth living. When life requires something outside if itself it cannot be life because it lives only for that which it seeks to possess. On the contrary, when life needs nothing other than itself it requires no other possessions and only lives to love”.

 

“You cannot be life for you have never truly lived, therefore how can you know love?”

On Not Being Seen As A Dreamer (day 177)

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me.

I’ve walked them and I wouldn’t change it

but if I could pull them like rubber bands,

crooked here and there

I would.

 

We sit on the edge of our seat

for her story,

the struggles

the uncertainty

the life of a dream chaser is somehow

more glory than mine.

 

I am a quiet dreamer

just because I don’t have to

sing my art in the strongest voice

doesn’t mean the dream chasers

with the uncertain, shaking steps of a tightrope walker

should be more of an idol.

 

These colors stream down my hands

but I don’t have to

splash them like a mural

on every corner,

I’d much rather know I can love them alone whenever I want

than give them to you

or hang them like a trophy from the sky.

 

These words run in my veins

just as much as all the dreamers

but you don’t have to see them

The science I wield is as much my magic

as the shattered hearts following those splintered train tracks,

and just because

mine are intact and not beautifully broken

doesn’t mean they’re less to look at.

 

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me,

they don’t tell a tale

that will bring you to tears

but I can still float along them with my eyes closed.

 

I can be

practical

I can build skyscrapers

out of sparks of tradition

while they run with all the glory

but I always dream a shock splash of sunrise

just like them.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/20/17

Tradition

Love at First Kiss

In her eyes,

I found my soul,

The heart she gave me,

Made me whole,

 

And when we met,

She took my breath

She made me wonder,

Have I met death?

 

For she was so pretty,

Her allure seemed serial,

Her heart magnanimous,

And her beauty ethereal,

 

I may not know everything,

But at least I know this:

When it came to passion,

All I needed was her kiss.

 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I met a girl during the Christmas holiday in Washington, D.C., and she sparked some inspiration for me to write this poem. I had been trying to write a poem for almost a year with no luck, until now. I wrote it over several days, and I am rather satisfied with the result.

Audacity (day 141)

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be a liar with a little bit of honesty

Sometimes I take what you give me

and hide it away

 

Secrets shouldn’t be this easy to keep

Alone spills from my suffocation

but I pull apart knots, try to believe

in this everything

 

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be tangled and a little bit lonely

Sometimes I whisper beginnings

to keep you on my side

 

I’ll pour the ocean in your cup

Safe has never been what I want to be

Every day is a victory, a battle

and I stand straight to face it

 

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be passionate and a little bit crazy

Sometimes I grab the steering wheel

and yank it off the road

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 12/17/16

Audacity

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You Ask How I Want You

You Ask How I Want You


You ask how I want you; as if the walls of my veins,

the marrow of my bones, the well of my soul

could cry out—

 

I want you in every place 

that my body could fit:

In the little crevices of my brain,

In the deep compartments of my chest,

In the hollows behind my eyes,

In the beginnings of my every breath--

 

I want you in secret and in sight,

Beneath my sheets

Or the naked sky—

I want you as a seductive whisper

In my ear

As a ripe fruit

For my teeth to undress

 

I want you in so many ways;

In “sshhed” moans or wild cries,

In heavy sweat or tiny tears

 

I want you inside—outside—

A top—beneath—

Planked against me—

Pushed down over the frame—

Legs upwards, outwards;

Dancing upon my back

 

I want you: right or wrong,

touched or untouched—

pure or tainted

But most simply,

 

I want you.


The Parka

 

The Parka

 

I wish I could just wear you.  Slip you on,  like a warm parka against the freezing cold. A thick pair of fur lined gloves , silky soft, warm and comfortable inside, but thick, and tough against the elements. You couldn't talk back, or get confused and run. You would only stay where I put you , and warm me, protect me against everything else out there when I needed you ...I could just take you off if I got too hot, instead of scrambling, and clawing trying so desperately to find you, like I do now when that happens. You'd be hanging there, on the hook when I was cold again and needed you. Still untouched by anyone else, you only fit me perfectly after all. I would patch you if ever you were worn, never throw you out, or replace you. I would wear you as if you were the finest ever to exist , walking proudly with you until I no longer needed protection from the elements. Until I could no longer walk outdoors at all. Until I was slipped into a silk lined wooden box, and lowered into the ever cold earth. There I would rest, and dream of your comforting embrace... Would my soul fly free ? Scouring the world for you? Or would I be trapped there, slowly coming apart, unraveling , helpless, in a cold dark place without you ?  The way I am now. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

One that I wrote while apart from my love for a time. 

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To Be With You

Like the bees need the honey dew
And the dark needs the light
All I want is to be with you
Cause I care for you with all my might

Though I just met you a week ago
I would simply like to say
Being with you makes my heart flow
From day to day

I'm afraid that I might fall in love
Looking at the twinkle in your eye's
Sparkling like the stars above
Drifting romantically through the skies

How I would like to kiss your sweet lips
And caress your soft skin
I beg you don't let my heart rip
Stand beside me and hold it in

You’re pure as a white cloud
To walk with you I would be proud
You’re sweet and beautiful
Your kindness is plentiful

For the rest of my life I want to be with you!

By: Wayne Hoss

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Love

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A heat of a Thousand Suns

Folder: 
Stoned Sour
His voice faltered at first then faded off..
He watched her slink closer,
carrying her flesh sensuously as some women can. 
 
Her face, 
a bewitching vision belonging only in dreams, 
contained a gleam of beauty as the nerves of her body were continually smoldering my desire. 
 
She slowly smiled seductively, 
as she sensuously stalked him,
shadowing him like a memory of a past lover. 
 
Inches battled for territories on both their bodies. 
Then looking him flesh in the eye, 
she wet her lips-mingling them with whispered words of:
"I want you" and "I need you."
 
Second by second seemed to loudly waltz all around them before he finally nodded. 
 
They were intently locked on each other dulling their senses.
They were blinded by their lustful urges. 
Both blinking into one another instead of seeing the rare sight of time dramatically dance by.    
 
"Lets get away from prying eyes.
I'll meet you." He muttered huskily. 
 
She sneaked a kiss before slipping away at his words, 
becoming lost in the crowd and completely out of sight. 
He was close behind and fueled by their passion. 
Bringing a heat of a thousand suns on the back of his shoulders.

In My Mouth

We should be more than this.
Every time I close my eyes we kiss.
Just want your snake bitten lip, in my mouth,
with my hands moving South.
It's about time we found an end,
to this game we call pretend.
We both know this is more,
and it's time we explore.
I won't runway if you give in,
it's about time to sin.
See I've been waiting for you,
I know you love how we do.
And I got all the time in the world for this....
just to feel your snake bitten lip,
in my mouth.....
-Jay Pierce
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written about one night 2 years ago that has never let me go!