Love has its own language

I should speak, but you are quick to the draw

Your face lighted in ardour crimson blush

Your fingers fold words like origami

Palms open & cup, a letter hangs glued 

My hand catches wild roses, unzipping

Our secret signs, never-ending tales

It's not yet spring, but buds are in riot

Spouting honey-gold ears, lavender scents  

When your verses twine my own, cheek to cheek

Our tongues inhale rain drops after the storm





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Blank Verse
and Poets United:   In two or more languages

This is based on my train experience of seeing the couple communicate in sign language.

picture credit here                                     

The shades of my name

Paul Gauguin:  Two Tahitian Women (1899)

I learn my name in a dream-wheel

       Two women walk, unconscious of eyes
       that follow their hips & breasts swaying

Beneath my skin & layers of failures, a meaning 

       One woman carries a tray of berries 
       red & flowering, undisguised
       she is unstoppable, the fruit of the season                        

Stirring guts-deep, a faint primitive impulse  

       The other woman is tender, draped of blooms
       blue & evasive, a penumbra under a tree 
       she is on threshold of tasting a seed

Part-sun, part-shadow,  I know her-  

                                                                 Eve                        

                                    

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Word Challenge by Hedgewitch - Mind & Symbol
"'We are to use at least five of the words from this list drawn from Chapter One of Carl Jung's Man & His Symbols, in your choice of either a poem utilizing a form, in a prose-poem,  or in free verse. " 

Thanks for the visit ~

Drunk with colors

color me summer

lips

to cheeks

amber-stained

arm

to fingers

 green tea-sipped, sugar-licked

sky dazzles 

drunken blue 

we gaze, without words

as colors drink

our skin

craving for sun's fever

& when you kiss me

rain-dust drenched

i turn 

softer than tulips

nibbled-pink 

neck

to 

toes

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing about Holi, Festival of Colors & Love

picture credit:  here 

Spring's brew

The sun is a flame-shaker
cleaving day into evergreen-windmill

There's fragrance of tulips-honey
& narcissus in warming cinnamon-clouds

The rain sprinkles, a dewy-grower
patting the soil into moist-delirium & seeds-taster

I wear scarlet & my feet snap-escape
into mad twirling dance as bees-pipers

Wrap me close, sheets of lavender, my song-weaver
pour your sweet words into me, i'm your wine-maker

Because today is first spring day
And the brew's heady with your southern-kisses.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing kennings - creative word pairings.   Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Thanks for the visit ~

Picture credit:   here

In the room, blindly

my fingers trace the space 
like braille, their corners slant
in secret language

i shuffle a few steps
there's a scent of dead flowers & warm heated air -
and what is round becomes angular & sharp: 

needles & knots, 
grains unpolished, tiny gaps 
between wood & glass, 
rough painting skein, thick spine of bed 

where you said you love the shape 
of my face, slope of my neck,
texture of my lips-

outside shuttered windows
winter wind whips & howls a thousand
bleating war songs

but all i hear is the ticking clicking seconds
so loud
so loud  

in this room
empty of center & velocity  
                                         - you



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Brian Miller
Picture credit:   here

Calling the bees & rain

sting & ravish
lilac petals like furious bee

blue the grey sky, honey the chilling air
spring buzzes in your mind

Photography by:  Shanyn

~0~0~0~0~

rain,

you wake 

me up 

spilling thick 

strokes of liquid 

on my face-

i lean forward

full of want-

Photography by:   Just a Picture

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Micro poetry ~ Spring is still a long way from here ~ Thanks for the visit ~

All red, never invisible

an ink fading
a face blurring
   
              under boreal whiteness
              this glacial distance

burning no marks, nor one scar
to show a weakness or crack

              i take the sturdy coldness
              of city & people scabbing like knives

i swallow the grey
of sky & opaque long working hours -

              only let me be the words
              that soaks you red & lush

 never invisible, always a wave
 that quenches your hunger & steals 

              your breathing- 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Mary ~

Picture credit:  here