Summer

Salt and Seashells

 

Sea salt made a fine layer of dust on your skin

when the cresting waves alternatingly

pushedand pulled your body

with the readiness of a lover. I stood

on the shore, toes gently lapped

by the aftermath to

the small violences you refused to shy away from

and daydreamed about your voice against my skin.

I called out to you, then,

and culled the seashells from my fist to select

the one best suited for your hand.

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Summer

She lingered over her martini, an olive

floating gracefully in the gin,

vermouth and humor sitting dry on her tongue.

The summer evening slowly inched itself across the tablecloth

until the light from the candle at the center

hindered its crusade to bring on the dark.

I ran my hand over the flame, letting it lick the dent of my palm,

inching it further down until

the quick pain reminded me of that first pinprick of love

the night we met. Do you remember

the earthy smell of the apples slowly rotting under the leaves?

The world altering itself beneath our feet?

There was a sense of urgency back then, a need

for hastened fingertips and my lips to always be pressed to yours, 

skin rubbed in raw emotion until it burned like kindling 

in the night. Your eyes were golden

under the lanterns, your hands pale birds

swooping over your plate.

In that moment my skin burned for the ocean

of your curls across my hips,

the charm on your necklace to brush against my thigh,

the warmth of summer waves to pulse beneath my skin. 

 

in the garden, in the nighttime (with Old English, Dutch, and Germanic influence)








in the garden, in the nighttime

(formerly 'slipping away in the garden in the nighttime', with Old English, Dutch, and Germanic influence)




the leaves play their roles

they change colors, giving shade,

raindrops—welled up tears








Author's Notes/Comments: 

This haiku was primarily composed as a personal note to my most recent subjective study material (micro-phenomenology).  I thought, first & foremost, why or how come it had that particular significance in me (at least for me). As far as that realization was thought to be consisting revelatory moments,  a denouement if you will, these have aided me (in my self-directed learning the importance/relevance of intersubjectivity, interrelatedness, & multiperspectivity as it relate to/in relation to philosophy, phenomenology, —mostly in semiotics/semantics/linguistics—of which are already specified in the past Author's Notes/Comments).

 

In addition, etymological definitions (with relative value to myself) basically were included below.  These are the linguistic influences of another language before being used in these particular ways.  Please note that this is just to help educate myself on these subjects & so, thought to be, help expand my learning objectives, which was why they've been given emphases):

 

 

 

Leaves pl./leaf sing. :

 

 

1.  Old English lēaf, of Germanic origin; related to Dutch loof and German Laub

 

Leave (another sense, as in the verb) :

 

 

2. Old English lēaf 'permission'; related to LIEF and LOVE

 

3.  Old English.. (this last one entry was not included; it had seemed to have a far different sense & meaning, so it had not been thought to be iterated; and apart from this reason, however, I could not find a special character from my mobile device to input "læfan" like how it appears from the built-in definition & its meaning to especially/specially denote that here correctly)

 

 

 

Nothing but a Fable

Happily ever after doesn’t exist.

Not when people like you also exist.

I bought myself a new suit of armor so you don’t drive another knife in my back.

I told the vendor to hold the stallion because human legs were never for aesthetic purposes.

 

I wanted to walk the face of the Earth with you using my own.

We would’ve walked more than a thousand miles together to chase the sun and avoid the night.

And I never needed to worry about my tired legs.

They built up a tolerance from walking in the coastal sand and helping me keep up with dirty dishes.

 

I told you about my demons and how quickly I am to care when I’m shown an act of kindness.

Mother always lectured me that no matter how small they may be, they are never in vain.

But there is such a thing as being too kind. There is such a thing as temptation.

The best of us cave in once, twice, or maybe more than that when we write in our diaries.

 

You were like such a book to me and I trusted you, but never did I expect that you’d defile my soul

By persuading me to partake in activities that I would never in my right mind do.

I should have recalled the fable of a girl who trusted a poltergeist that haunted a similar diary.

Had I not flee the moment I saw your true character, I would have joined her in death.

 

Looking back, I understand that diaries are the keys to starting fires and turning innocents into fugitives.

You can try with all your might to pry my mouth open to get me to spill any more beans

But my lips are staying sealed because I know who you really are and I finally learned my lesson.

You never exposed me. You only leaked a chapter that was part of a book you never read.

 

So why bother showing it to you knowing that my real friends and family will be endangered as well?

I know that a deluded man gambled away so much ammo to the vipers that he became a trainwreck.

I swear on my recurring nightmares that any answers to your questions will be used against me.

Truth and justice is a concept invented by people and after all, people do make mistakes.

 

God bless the right to remain silent.

Because even the condemned understand that its value supersedes a vault of gold

That the draconian blackjack dealers steal from the poor that desire to play with them.

Where was Robin Hood when I needed him most?

 

Flash forward to a single year and I’m now twenty-five with an art degree in hand.

I’ve spent all that time studying my ass off and avoiding the vipers that plague my past.

I was with my true friends who never give a shit about your deceit when I realized I never needed you.

Preparing for financial exams under the tutelage of a bright mathematician was like you never existed.

 

So the next time you see me, I won’t grovel on the pavement begging you to take me back.

Instead, I’ll look the other way and French kiss my new admirer in front of you.

Just to let you know that I changed for the better and you missed out on the life we could’ve had.

I am fortunate to understand that your absence last summer turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

 

I dare you to call me an idiot again!

I dare you to call me a chicken!

I dare you to say that I’m going down

While you hide behind the blackjack dealers that love you for show!

 

There’s always someone out there willing to give you a taste of your own medicine anyway.

How did it feel when even Discordia didn’t want anything to do with you?

Was it salty and sour like your attitude and your deceit?

Cavities caused by the consumption of these candies are a pain for dentists to fill.

 

And just like that, you disappeared from the face of the Earth again. Hopefully, for good this time.

You can erase your identity from the world, but you cannot erase the marks your venom left behind.

You may still be on my mind from time to time, but I don’t see you in a virtuous light anymore.

You are nothing but a fable.

Summer Summit

Folder: 
Sunpoems

*

The day of most light
the summit of summer...
pours gifts
on earth
in silent waves
of the solar drummer

 

saiom shriver

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"Summer Cotton Dress"

by Jeph Johnson


awareness amplifies yet reason is muddled when surveying the physical charms residing underneath a yellow 


summer cotton dress


wondering what legs and arms with taut tendons teach when shimmying and crippling one's just out of reach sinewed mystique


galloping bosoms may lurch forward a tad enabling a vague vestige of nipple to search for an eyeful of power


yes, awareness amplifies when physical charms coalesce underneath a yellow 


summer cotton dress


psyche creates a carnal impulse to fondle fleshy folds of fascination found inside frictionous fantasies 


so when offered a girl to touch with purpose one is instead resigned to yearning a tiptoe dancer twirling and hugging a dear life stripper pole


for proof tonight's goal is to snap an "up in your face" cellphone selfie with permission from the bouncer of course


the unadmired and aloof conquistador persona doesn't apply despite the envy of conquering by force an archetype that relinquishes nothing true destiny provides


rejection incubates an ugly embryo of misogyny if things are not just so


so the easy for most solution becomes a task tantamount to impossible:


unnegotiated enthusiastic consent


so until winter again comes 'round romance hides underneath a brown 


summer cotton dress 





 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

2017 

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tags:

Summer Haze

Folder: 
365 Day Challenge

 

It was not a normal summer,

 

In fact, it was like nothing I’ve ever had before.

 

And this year,

 

I think I liked it more.

 

 

 

It was quick to move on,

 

No dwelling on the past,

 

We made the most of our minutes,

 

Trying to make it last.

 


Late nights at the lake,

 

Long days enjoying the sun,

 

Never forgetting the feeling,

 

For we knew there might never be another one.

 

 

 

Looking back, it was the best I’ve ever had,

 

Living life under the sun’s blaze,

 

Never worrying, no stress,

 

Just enjoying life in a summer haze.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Day 10, one of my favorites thus far, brings back great memories. :)

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Afternoons in August (day 36)

I crack the window,

inhale and emerge into stillness,

surrounded by sweat and tired cicadas

 

We take comfort in the concrete

roughing up our heels

as we sprint past sweet nostalgia

in the middle of the summer haze

 

When the sun melts away all the oxygen

the world is asleep

but weeks trickle by, oblivious

There’s something freeing about

being frozen in time in the summer

 

We taste the carefree paralysis

when hot air decides to fade and

silence all the spheres

Then suddenly we’re breathing the rain

Our voices echo in the steam and storms

 

We sink in and out of consciousness

along with the longest days,

seeming small again

in the face of the season that wraps me in warmth

when I slip out the screen door

 

Afternoons filled with spice and summer,

leaning on the one who makes me whole.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/6/16

Summer haze

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tags:

Open Road Summer

Folder: 
2016

When May fades into June

and the days stretch ahead of us

like shadows on a warm summer night

 

When the breeze lifts the branches,

when the sunlight tells a story

I’ll meet you where the pavement ends

 

Just an open road,

a beautiful day,

feeling like we can’t lose

 

When the trees come to expect us

coming out the screen door every day,

and the winter frosts are all worth it

 

When we’re running forever

through cornfields and memories,

I’ll meet you at the edge of the world

 

We can leap off the tallest mountains,

run out of breath, rush the hay bales

and fall in love again and again and again

 

Just an open road summer,

a beautiful day,

feeling like we can’t lose

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/19/16

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