Re:

Poetry surrounds us in all forms.  A common theme in some poetry is starting with a question or idea while yet another common element is repetition of an idea, object, etc.

This assignment was to write a poem beginning with the line "I'd like to begin again" and, within the poem, we had to have some repetition. 

This was also our first wild word assignment.  My word was splices.

The thought with which I was immediately struck was how some people in internet chat rooms simply say "re," if another chatter has disconnected and quickly rejoined.  This is the poem that flowed from that idea.

Re:

 

I’d like to begin again…

Rewind

          to that first moment
Reset
          the clock to zero hour
Reboot
          the CPU which splices memory
Rearrange
          circumstances, fate, chance

Yes, I’d like to begin again…

Recognize

          moments too precious to waste
Reembark
          on that path leading to my future
Reform
          my opinion of time, of choice
Rebuild
          my sense of me

We should be allowed to begin again.

A Night to Remember

This poetry assignment was really a very fun one.  We'd read emotional poetry capped off with love poems that were more about the stupid things we do for love.

Our assignment was to write such a love poem - possibly from the point of view of a particular character or figure we know. 

This was also a "wild word" poem.  My wild word was nuzzled.  All I could see in my mind's eye when I pulled that word was a man, romantically nuzzling his date's neck - only to choke because her long hair got caught in his mouth.

For some reason, with the instructions and the mental image my word conjured, all I could think of was what Mr. Bean might do on a date.

This poem is the result.

A Night To Remember

 

He planned a night to remember…

Dinner for two, picnic-style,

In front of a fire
To fan the flames of desire.

Dessert for two,

Rich, sweet, creamy
To heighten the senses.

Romantic movie on TV,

Sitting together in the dark
Alone.

He planned a night to remember…

Feet tangling in the blanket

Moved too close to the flames,
Starting to smoke.

Strawberry mousse with cream

Remaining untouched –
Pesky allergies, you know.

Video broken – scratched and warped

Nuzzling her neck,
Only to choke on her hair.

 

It was a night to remember.

 

Because of him...

Cognac diamonds lit with passion's fire
Yours is the touch that ignites my desire
Dreams of tomorrow built today
Bring perfect images to guide our way
A yearning that burns brighter than stars above
You've taught me the real meaning of love.

Free Write - A "Slice of Life"

An assignation at midnight, shadows wavering like black flames coming on a warm, flower-scented breeze. His laughter was rich and thick as chocolate – as if you could pull it from the air and eat it. His voice slithered into the room, low and full of promise… silken whispers in the small hours of the night. He walked into the room, as if the air boiled invisibly around him.

She stood there at the window, beautifully silhouetted in that pure white light spreading like ice over the darkness. Not beautiful and not supremely brilliant, she was filled with something that took the place of both qualities – something best described as a profound vivacity… a continual and sincere response to all that she encountered in her path through life. She was a sexual dessert of curves and points.

She whispered a greeting, a voice so close to silence that one must strain to hear it. That whisper hovered around his body like a line of warmth, a whisper of ghostly electricity.

He went to her, filled with images of his dreams. Dreams of kissing her so hard his mouth hurt; so soft his heart hurt; so long his neck hurt; so deep his throat hurt; and so completely that nothing hurts.

Standing behind her, nuzzling into her neck, this was a nocturnal visit filled with the promise of delicious physical intimacy. He savored the very sweet taste of saliva mixed with skin – skin unnaturally soft, like living velvet. She glowed like there was an ethereal light inside of her… a light only lit by the spark of his touch.

Turning to face him, her eyes drank him down like a parched man eyes a glass of water – eyes flaming with hunger, desire, and truth. Moving to his face, her eyes softened and grew liquid, a fervent passion flaring to life.

He kissed her, his lips soft as silk; gentle as rose petals; hot as the noonday sun. His tongue was a quick wetness exploring the inner reaches of her honeyed mouth. Passion roared in his ears like great waves that crash up and over the beach, never receding but only building more with each tick of the bright night’s clock.

Something inside him melted that hurt in an exquisite way. All his longings; all his dreams and sweet anguish; all the secrets held asleep within him came to life. At once everything was transformed and everything made sense. That first kiss united their souls, the spirits entwining in the very breath they breathed. And each exhalation was a baptism in fire.

He always knew that she could change minds and alter moods with just a touch, but now he knew that she could instantly take possession of a soul with just a kiss. For in that kiss, he lost his very existence.

With a voice soft, low, and more private than the setting, he whispered that he loved her. He stroked her face softly, knowing what his mother had meant when she had told his sister that love and electricity were one in the same. With every kiss, he felt a jolt in his soul; with every whisper and touch, he felt as if he’d been shocked into life.

They sighed together, an air of breathless intensity as the night turned to dawn. The coming sun was the first blue gaze of the day. This love they shared was much like a wild rose – beautiful and calm but willing to draw blood in its defense. Tested once by a merciless man to whom she’d been betrothed, he’d already shed that blood to keep her safe. Now, as they watched the sun spread its warming fingers across the sky like pale pastel ribbons, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure they would be together.

Aengus and Caer Ibormeith

(Celtic Mythology)


A lovely maiden, fair of face
And silent, ghostly form
Doth snuck into Aengus’s room
Until unrequited love hath born.
He dreamt of her nightly –
In dreams he wished to stay –
And rued the sun’s dawning
With the passing of every day.
Illness took hold of the man
And throughout body and mind did spread
Until a power physician was summoned
In fear he’d soon be dead.

A search was called –
Looking high, looking low –
But years did pass without avail
While Aengus’s love did grow.
Finally love and luck, it seems,
Met to quench his lonely thirst.
But travel to Loch Bel Dracon
Was the journey to make first.
Upon the quiet, rocky shores,
Aengus did find silver maidens fair
Surrounding his love, Caer Ibormeith,
Whose visage at his heart did tear.

Trying to secure her for our hero,
His people did plead in vain.
So upon the lands came a shower of blood
To help quell his eternal pain.
Her father begged for sweet mercy,
His anguish echoing in his word.
He could not promise the fair maiden
For on even years, she doth become a bird.
So upon the next year, taking great haste,
Aengus traveled to win the girl’s heart.
The pair of swans sealed their love with a swim
And vowed never again to part.

Free Write - Emotions

What is it about the emotions that can dictate the very course of our lives? What is it about a smile or a laugh that touches us so very deep inside without even a moment's thought?

Emotions are a very volatile subject in many, many ways. They cause us to sing in the rain; dance on a roof; cry in our sleep; and any number of strange reactions to the world around us. They can have us singing someone's praises one moment and cursing their very name the next.

As a human being, our lives are dictated by our emotions. If you wake up happy and ready to go in the morning, even if the day is derailed for a moment, you are still ready to face the world. Yet, if you wake up "on the wrong side of the bed," everything seems to go down hill from there.

We attach emotional significance to everything around us. Every sight, smell, taste, and touch brings back some memory of where we were and what we were doing when we first experienced that - and the emotions that surrounded us at that very moment in time. Every sound that surrounds us brings to mind a time where we were elated or crushed - and the sound will affect us the very same way.

So what is it about our emotions that make them so very powerful? What makes us so ruled by those very emotions many try to keep in check?

Perception

creeping through somber woods
along the river at dusk,
i tried to swallow my fears.

within the close confines of rotted stumps
and drooping canopy of dying pine,
she often found me increasing
the energy of my grip –
grasping the frail skin of her hand or
holding her shirt sleeve –
lest something should appear,
appetite ready to devour me.

wild beasts peered from underneath
the carpet of molding pine needles,
wide bright eyes following my movement.
ears seemed to twitch with each misstep
as if hearing and identifying my fear.
legs fluttered and wiggled,
ready to jump out at me without
even a moment to scream.

“easy, child,” she smiled and said.
“those images aren’t real.
it’s just in your imagination.”

she toted me towards the beasts,
my hand now clutching hers
to hold on for dear life.
then i saw them – as if for the first time.
old logs and stumps had imposed
upon the confines of my fertile mind,
taking the shape of beasts.
their bright eyes – simple knots,
washed white by many hard rains.
their ears – fallen leaves from the dogwood,
stuck to the logs with mildew and slime.
and those legs, those fearsome creepy legs –
broken limbs bent at odd angles to tease.

a nervous laugh escaped my lips,
and i smiled at her old wrinkled face,
ready to continue on our way.

Why?

why?
why can’t you see
what you’re doing to me?
why do you keep
my heart on a chain?
why do you pull me to you
just as I set myself free?
why can’t you see
what you’re doing to me?
why?

Where Did You Come From?

where did you come from?
you weren’t here just a moment ago –
oh, i know we’ve passed this way
a time or two or three…
we’ve even said hello and
maybe even talked for a while…
but where did you come from?

a moment ago, this room was
dark, cold, and lonely…
i was feeling at my worst…
my head hung low with despair;
the night was closing in around me,
tightening its grasp on my throat
like a strangle meant for death.

so, i ask again, just where did you come from?
one moment, i’m on the verge of tears…
then you showed up in my life…
nothing special, just popped by for a chat –
but then, when did we stop by just
for a little chat in all the years
that have gone by?

where did you come from?
you blew into my life like a
the blast from a force-5 tornado –
ripping apart my senses and
shattering my sensibilities…
keeping me so totally enthralled
and returning to this space night after night.

so, i ask, where did you come from?
a moment ago, there was nothing but
the cool, quiet dark, and my despair…
and now, there is a feeling of peace,
warmth… and… something else –
something else left unnamed…
so where did you come from?

and how did i get so lucky?

What Might Have Been...

i turned around,
and there you were.
it was as if time had stood still.
your eyes were still sparkling like
the diamonds i had remembered,
and your laughter was still as beautiful
as the loveliest italian aria.
you touched my hand,
so lightly most wouldn’t notice,
and i shivered—
still as attracted to you now.
then i noticed the ring—
your wedding ring—
shining on your hand.
making my excuses,
i ran out of there
before you could see my tears…
but i couldn’t help but think of
what might have been.

Watching

and here i sit, staring at you, though you don’t know it’s me…
biding my time til i can find the words to let you know –
let you know just how much you mean to me…
here i sit, watching you – from afar … never coming near…
holding in the flood that threatens to well up over the dam –
the flood in which my soul resides…
and yet i sit, watching you and feeling as if you’re watching me –
but how can that possibly be?
i've never told you that it’s me.

Untitled Musing

life races on, hurriedly pushing us forward –
towards who only knows what?
racing, never slowing, until the end of days –
until we meet our final destiny.

dreams of that life to come sustain us…
keep us afloat when the misery and miasma
of that which is the rat race
would threaten to drown us in its gloom.

who of us can say we’ve lived?
which of us can throw that first stone,
surrounded by walls of a glass house,
pointing an accusatory finger?

Untitled Emotional Musing

looking around, a comfortable feeling settles –
the old faces and names swirl in and out of the fog
like beacons on an endless midnight ocean
that somehow managed to burn.

dancing in and out of my life, always there
just beyond my reach – just out of my sight…
a kindred spirit feeling lost and alone
not knowing which turn to take.

crossing the years and the tears,
we wound up in this space and time –
neither of us quite knowing what
our next move should be.

so, look deeply into in my eyes -
let’s get lost tonight in each other and
share those whispered secrets
we know so well one more time.

we’ve started a story whose end must not wait –
the curtains still dance with the wind and the sky
as music softens until it was only an underscoring
of the movements between our two hearts

your voice - silken threads softly whispered
in the small hours of the night into
a waiting ear and an ever trembling heart –
spending one more night alone.

alone?
how can that be when you were just here –
your fingertips just caressing my face as
your words play my heart like an aria.

so please tell me - when will our eyes meet?
when can finally i touch you?
when will this strong yearning end?
everything inside of me is wanting you and needing you

Turning to You

in the quiet of the evenin’,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i swore they wouldn’t this time – not after the last.
if i could just find way to still these emotions,
i know i could last until dawn …

in the deep, dark quiet of midnight,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i see your smile and the warmth in your eyes,
floating through the pages of my mind,
and my resolve is slipping away…

in the quiet of dawn’s coming,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
your voice slips down my spine like a warm current,
and i smile at just the thought of your name…
what am i going do…

in the quiet of morning’s light,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
hurt so bad before that i had closed completely down,
but you found a way in … into my mind, my heart, my soul…
when i swore i wouldn’t let you…

in the quiet of the afternoon,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i can no longer deny the way you have touched my life
and how i yearn to touch yours… touch yours in a way
i never wanted to touch another before…

in the quiet of the evenin’,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i finally admit it – you’ve got me, whatever may come…
my soul is free to soar again above the highest heights,
and it’s all because of you that my heart has taken wings…

yes, when all is said and done,
i find my thoughts turning to you…

There You Are

the nights are long, dark and bleak –
loneliness threatening to swallow me,
drowning me in sorrows.

but there you are.

surrounded in shades of blue and
cloaked in the hollow sound of
my own voice.

but there you are.

all at once feeling alone in the mire
yet not as alone as I thought –
a like mind sharing the darkness.

and there you are.

thoughts of soft spring nights,
gently lulled by the creaking of
an old porch swing.

and there you are.

arms stretched out towards you,
yet never quite reaching
across time and distance.

but there you are.

voices travel the phone lines,
enclosing a heart with warmth
while emphasizing the loneliness.

and there you are.

through time, space, and distance –
keeping company through the
wee hours of dawn.

there you are.

Symphony for the Senses

earth, wind, rain, passion –
the scent awakens the senses
and inflames the blood

feather soft, just ever so light –
the touch reaches deep into
a guarded soul

reflections, star light, falling leaves –
the sights assault the mind and
free your inner passions

damp chill, fresh grass, dew –
the taste tickles as it touches
the very tip of your tongue

crackling, whistling, chirping –
the sounds play a mystical symphony
just for two

walking along the path towards
home, hand and hand,
feeling content and safe

Surprise

the look on her face said it all.
her eyes were wide—
her mouth agape.
she could feel her heart
pounding in her chest.
the blood rushed from her head,
leaving her dizzy and giddy.
she sat back hard,
not feeling anything but
the numbing of shock that
stems from such a great
surprise.

Sunset, Sunrise

the sun sets on two lonely souls
feeling the tortured pain of a
past gone wrong.
as the fiery flames of day
extinguish into the darkness of night,
they weep, mourning love lost.

the sun rises on two people,
filled with renewed hope.
their souls join, bringing peace to the
chaotic pain of the past.
as the moon's silvery rays give way
to the sun's fiery flames,
they smile, dreaming of a future together.

Sunset, Sunrise

the sun sets on two lonely souls
feeling the tortured pain of a
past gone wrong.
as the fiery flames of day
extinguish into the darkness of night,
they weep, mourning love lost.

the sun rises on two people,
filled with renewed hope.
their souls join, bringing peace to the
chaotic pain of the past.
as the moon's silvery rays give way
to the sun's fiery flames,
they smile, dreaming of a future together.

Staring at the Clock

staring at the clock,
hearing each little tic
resound inside my head.

sitting here, waiting
wondering where you might be
tonight.

wondering what you’re doing –
what you’re thinking…
are you alone?

staring at the clock,
feeling myself slip
inexorably into desperation.

consoling myself with
a bottle of bacardi and
a pack of marlboros.

staring at the phone,
wishing for life,
willing it to ring.

staring at the clock
marking each minute
with a slash upon my arm.

wondering
waiting
wishing

wondering why you had to leave –
leave me here alone,
to worship your memory.

staring at the clock,
coming closer to oblivion
with each passing second.