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ALBERT ROAD AT NIGHTA fox skitters down the street on claws
sharpened on kerb-stones and dumping-grounds
It glances up at this two-legged stranger
as it passes, speeding up to escape perceived danger.
A man sleeps in a doorway; it is a warm night
so his possessions bundled make a resting-place
for his weary head, and he sleeps uncovered.
The fox pays him no mind, he is part of the furniture.
A drunken group sashays along the pavement, the silk-garbed
crowd parting for the casual stroller in denim and boots.
Giggling, they speak in high pitches of nothing at all.
The fox gives wide berth, fearing the noise.
Two men, loud, walking along the middle of the road
white lines providing guidance, kicking food containers
like so many footballs. The fox senses real danger,
and like the two-legs, is on full alert.
The men pass, the women long-gone, the man sleeps.
The traffic lights change from red to green, but no cars
are out at this time. Distantly, a siren wails.
The road is quiet but for the skittering of the f
thrillsthe roughness of the top of your head on my lips
the day after you've shaved away the hairs
sends tingles through the core of my being
the roundness of your belly pressed against mine
when we are skin-to-skin like newborns
is warmth and joy and lust-filled friendship
the fingers tough from plucking guitar-strings
tracing unknown words into the small of my back
feel like secret poetry written through my skin
and I'm no good at writing love poems
even into the soft skin of your back
and I'm no good at telling you my heart's words
but you need to know your body thrills me
and you need to know that even though
I find words so hard they stick in my throat
I love you, the core of you, your soul
fits mine like tiny puzzle pieces nobody can solve
but us. I have no words but these
and these are all I have to offer.
Untitled 08.07.2014And now we wait for the magic to begin
with scarlet lights in our eyes
and stars twinkling in our veins
we watch, noiseless and screaming
and wait for the spectacle.
And then, then it begins
every dot of carbon in our bodies
effervesces in glittering fireworks
and our minds write poems in the stars
which course through us like lightning.
And then the moment peaks
and we swim through the artist's strokes
painted with a brush floating through clouds
each of us a mirror of the other
reflecting star-filled words on words.
And finally, post-crescendo breaths
skim softly rounded pebbles on our hearts
leaving stardust as they gently bounce
and our souls come back to earth
until once again, the magic begins.
Cigarettes and BirdsongI roll another cigarette. The sun
is beginning to come up; tiny rays
of hope for another day
as the rest of the world sleeps.
Birds sing softly, songs of joy
and pleasure. I am alone
yet never alone. My world carries me,
the Universe has plans for all of us
and I sip slowly on hot tea
and contemplate its plan for me.
I roll another cigarette
and listen to the world awaken
around me, tiny stirrings of hope
for another day for all of us;
the saved and the damned.
I wonder if each morning I hear
the same birds, if they sing for me -
and feel too self-important, they
sing for anyone with a mind to listen.
We spend too much time not listening.
I roll another cigarette, and filled
with the tiny burgeoning of hope
the knowledge that not all of my days
begin this way, that my mind so quickly
slip-slides from side to side,
becomes untied; but not today.
I want to grasp this day, this peace
and imprint it on my mind, sear it
into place like a brand, a tattoo
of joy and peacefulness on my heart.
what's in a name?What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
by any other name would smell as sweet
but what a name really means no-one knows
a word we give each other when we meet
and meaningless, for some, who feel that they
are nameless, who lack identification
with the label they were given on the day
that their so-kind mothers gave them incarnation
Even names we've chosen feel like clothing
that doesn't fit or rubs our skin too hard;
to speak aloud our name invokes a loathing
for that which others use like an ID card.
And so we nameless avoid speaking aloud
the name of which we're meant to be so proud.
HazeI spend my days in a haze
of nicotine, caffeine and codeine
so I can function; there's no option
with a kid who needs me upright
compos mentis, sweetness and light.
It keeps away the headaches
burning skin and aches and pains
so he can hug me and I'll feel him
without wincing and pushing him
away because my skin is burning.
And I've been tossing and turning
all night, aware that my plight
is that of hundreds, even thousands;
it helps to know I'm not alone
that others' skin, muscle and bone
betrays them, they're also in a haze
that keeps us sane, contains
the bane of our existences
sustains us, maintains
our ability to function for our loved ones
hoping we can outrun our bodies
and fretful minds, the lines
get blurred sometimes
and that haze keeps our gaze
from glazing over when we're loving
from a chair or bed that's crushing
our self-worth, confidence in our
ability to truly see the world
through our children's eyes
and we're surprised when those kids
accept us like it's normal
1.37amI wrap myself around you
hand resting on the sweet curve of your belly
absent-mindedly stroking soft hairs
as you breathe the heavy breath of sleep.
This is our time,
though you don't know it
time when I breathe in the back of your neck
all sweat and fabric softener and soap.
This is when I protect you.
When you murmur fear I comfort you
When you shift I accommodate.
The rhythm of your breathing comforts me
so I deliberate, breathing in time with you
my chest rising and falling against your back.
My knees fit perfectly into the smalls of yours
to say we are a two-piece puzzle would be a cliché
but a true one.
SongI sing his name softly as I sleep,
hearing echoes of him while I dream,
my thoughts in slumber like a tumbling stream,
his syllables bring calmness to the deep.
I sing his name quietly in my days,
a constant sountrack to my own existence;
knowing however far or near the distance
he's lighting my life with the brightest rays.
I sing him, dreaming, waking, in-between.
I sing him while I daydream, my sweet dove
who fills my life so fully with his love
that keeps my heart alive, and pure, and clean.
If life's a journey through the mists of time,
may his ever fall step-by-step with mine.
Saturated SeductionSaturated Seduction 7/23/14
You appeared to me in a dream.
You exist only in my enigmatic imagination.
The moon was heavy that night,
drunk with the power of the sun.
Pulling and pushing the tides
like my vacillating moods.
I swim through this vast ocean
of unrest searching for
a place to call home.
I created your face
to give me comfort.
I carved out your being
to fit perfectly with mine.
Your hair danced like fire even
though the sea consumed you.
Sometimes my dreams are lucid -
most times I forget.
But you linger like an after image -
as a flash of a camera in
my watery eyes.
You stay with me on nights
of uncertainty - when all my
doubts bombard and petrify me.
I am rooted in place, too
frightened to move...on.
If you were real it would feel like a dream.
I would never wake.
Eternal slumber has a nice ring to it.
When We Said Our Goodbyeswhen we said
i did not blame
breaking my heart
making petty claims
throwing my gran's china
ripping up pictures
demanding custody of our cat
but i do blame you
every single one
we were a
Love Always PerseveresSometimes
You just have to keep on
Throwing paper airplanes
Until someone turns around
Sends one sailing back to you.
I thought that my feelings
Were guided only
By the desire emanating
Between my legs
Now I realize
That it goes
Far beyond that
My heart pounds ferociously
At the mere thought of you
I want my body
To melt into you
Feel the waves of love
Crash against the shore
Of my once battered body
Sweep me up
Into your tide
I want to drown
In a sea
Of your love
Asphyxiated by desire
You are the only one
Who can resuscitate me
Your lips against mine
Bring me back to life
My LoveI am so exhausted
Loving you from afar
I don't even know
What you look like
But I am completely
In love with you
Whoever you are
You are the total package
A perfect mold
Of my deepest and darkest desires
Honest to a fault
Masochistic enough to love me back
Intelligent enough to know you shouldn't
But so deeply in love you can't help it
God, how I want you
I've never had to beg before
But I would for you
I would swim in an ocean
Of broken glass
Just to get you to look at me
But you can't be real
Such perfection can't exist
But I love you all the same
I simply can't help myself
We kissed last nightWe kissed last night
In my dreams
Not my first dream-kiss.
First time with you.
You took my face in your hands
And looked at me with tears
Then our lips touched
Not wet, but dry
I didn’t speak
But I smiled
We did it again
The dream-kiss felt good.
That was a first.
It surprised me
Then it felt awkward
People were watching
But only I felt weird
Because I enjoyed it.
Of course you did
But could we do it in real life?
Would it be as wonderful?
Or as awkward?
Someday we might want to
But could we?
We’re both girls.
Kiss MeKiss me;
Let me drown in your eyes.
Grip my waist,
And run your fingers down my sides,
Like hands ghosting over a piano.
Play my body like an instrument,
Soothe the melodies in my heart.
I am the Sky and the GroundWe found each other at the top of cloud nine,
playing me like a peasant, teaching me a lesson about how I could never sip your wine.
Maybe I over watered my lawn…
…or maybe I like being the soaked ground your feet walk on.
I’ll keep evaporating ‘til I’m nothing more than dry soil and weeds…
…or sink slowly into a hole because we know it’s hard to crawl out on empty wants and needs.
We lost each other at the bottom of a catacomb,
playing me like a fiddle in the middle of the flames wherever you roam
Maybe I overfilled my cup…
…or maybe I like being the set of lungs your ocean fills up
I’ll keep swimming ‘til I’m nothing more than food for the sharks…
…or float face down because we know it’s hard to light a wet match and keep the spark.
Sweet Nothingsthat sweet nothing (everything) something
that you whispered in my apprehensive ear
which made the hairs on my neck stand straight
one by one like tiny soldiers you called into rank.
that sweet something (nothing) everything
trickled past my eardrum, where the soldiers
beat a rhythm with my heartbeat, oozed stickily
into my mouth and the sickly, saccharine taste
was cloying on my tongue, involuntarily
my mouth rebelled, and spat those syrupy words
away, rejecting every last drop.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More