By Disillusioned Warrior
The voice taunts.
In silence is condemnation.
Tears apart your insides.
Your blood runs cold.
Shreds apart your soul.
Hurts even though it was expected.
What shouldn't be your battle.
Bones and skin will heal.
Sprit may not.
By Minal Apal
Hullo miss, are you missing this?
Are you missing the indulgence of luxury?
the luxury of human skin,
the satin softness of round mounds
or fixed circles of sugary sweet candy?
Hullo? Is this what you are missing?
the beauty of precisely created curve?
the dip in the junction of the neck?
the creamy texture of it slithering down your throat?
Are you missing this, miss?
Is it the incessant nag of your brain,
telling you to indulge in the touch?
Or is it the breath of it on your cheek,
or maybe on your lips?
If so then please indulge
In the luxury of my kiss.
The glow and beauty of the stars, are nothing near the splendid moon. When in her roundness, she burns silver. About you, my lady.
All the while. Believe, I prayed. Our night would last, twice as long.
So gentle of hands, I am being driven out of my mind. You're lovemaking is elemental of power. I am captured. Binding me in the most primitive way, to you. "Love me? I whisper." "Love you." Came in a breath, from Xena.
I lost myself in you, Xena. You claimed me completely. It is not time for analyzing. We have a paradox, it is the way of things. We are content.
The Laurel Tree
You lay in wait, behind a laurel tree. And everything is pleasent. You a woman, a wanderer like me. I barely heard you. You came in satin garments. And, suddenly beauty is very much you.
To me, you look like a Princess. As you set facing me, and hear you near as you speak softly and laugh. In a sweet echo that jolts the heart in my chest. For now, as I look at you, my voice is silent. I can say nothing, my tongue is silent, too. As the fire under my skin burns, my eyes are opened to the light. My ears hear. I convulse with desire.
Xena & Gabrielle
Awakened the morning with the sun. Water courses through the fountain nearby. Then again, which will? Somber enough, Gabrielle's soul, is of the twilight. Xena's hands, with them to weep. A willful need to be close. "This heart is yours to keep, my bard." "Xena, you make me smile. For us I wished, the path you chose. But, look at you now. Who are you?" "I am of the truth, our souls are united. Without you Gabrielle, I can't go on. The waters of Time, have no chance against us."
Thoughts of a certain person, plays continuously in my mind. Thoughts of her, dreams of her, fantasies about her. These dreams affect me, and do not let go. Of the claiming, urgent responses rising up. Something needed, some inner feeling, an utter exprression. The sound of it is the thing. The most persistent one, with impluses wanting. Of thoughts, of imangination, of wanting, of fulfilment. Of yearning, intense emotion, of a feeling.
Of these words I write, is the first pleasure, you seek. You must love the words, the ideas and images and rhythm. With all your capacity to love me. The love of words, and the love of you, is the first condition of Poetry. It is the words, that make things happen. At times I read a poem, and think of you. And I can feel the words come alive in my syllables. The syllables coming together as words, the words forming into a phrase, the phrase finding a rhythm, in you. In the lines, in the shape of the words, into the sentences. I feel You. You creating a rhythm, a magic, a spell, a mood, a shape, a form. I hear the words coming off the page, as you read them to me. I form them with my mouth. In transit, in action. I generate, I re-create the words incantation. Words rising from your body, out of the body. An act of language, an act of the mind. The words enact, they make manifest in what they describe. The roll, the rise, the creation. A reverberating through my heart, a cadence, a hammering, a rolling affect. That's not slowed down by the creation. This creates all the pleasore. This creates the intensity, these words are charged. Please, Baby! Feel deep joy. The nearly buckling strain of spirit. The achievement of, the mastery of.
Delicious to Hear
These words I give to you, is an act beyond paraphrase. Because, what is being said, is always inseperable, from the way it is being said. If these words can be re-written, then papers haven,t been rumpled. Then my poetry, hasn,t spent the night. These words, my words are an ( Erotic ) visitation, a means to an end, but also an end, and in and of themselves. I am a language maker, a worker, a shaper of language. You think it's an illusion? It's an impression that speaks. It is my heart calling, the poet inside to make the vey universe speaks, and reveals You through me.
Confusion reigns here inside, while I lie alone and try to hide. Then, there is you so soft and close. Just across the flames of my desire, where I want to be the most. I toss and turn, wrapped in the chains of my lust, knowing what and who I want. And, yet there is nothing I can do right now, to release this fire. For soon, Nikki, again I will be free. Just, you wait and see. Then, I will give you a taste of this fire, a part of me.
Lost in Silence
Move forward how can we? If you won't talk. Say something! Help me. How I long to hear, all you have to say. Good or bad, right or wrong. Just to know, someone is there. Something inside needing to be free. My quiet one, do you not know, how much I want you? Need you you to here completely. Xena, if we go on like this, I fear you might just altogether disappear. The silence is deafening! Can't you see it is, suffocating the spirit that is Us, and me. My warrior speak to me, you're voice I need. The spoken words, maybe will never be said. Though, if you look into my eyes, you will surely see.
Here as I sit in the CSI lab, running my fingers over the keyboard. I ponder, my mind goes back to the question, I have asked myself before. What would have become of me, if I had never met you, Catherine? Could I have found happiness? Or from day to day, would I have gone feeling lonely and blue? Wish I could tell you that! Every time I hear your voice, a warmth surrounds my heart. But, expressing my feelings is something I am used to. And, where it concerns you, I am not used too. So, I think until the time is right, to tell you how I feel. This flame I carry for you inside, will continue to burn, until the day its revealed.
Wanted to face the fears, that had made my heart ill. I know I was dreaming, this much I recall. It was a bright and sunny day, you were hunting for our food. And, you looked so tall, beautiful and strong. Clearly your azure eyes sparkled, of the warrior there in your soul. And your concentration, as you were unwavering, your goal pursued. I remember thinking, how natural you looked, and how tanned your skin is. I wanted to reach out, to touch you, and I tried until it was that I realized something was very wrong... I called out your name, Xena!!! And you didn't even blink an eye. I wondered how could you ignore, you're bard, and I cried out to you asking. Why? I tried to move towards you, but something kept me rooted, and I couldn't get free. Then I realized as you leaned against me, that I was a tree. That's all I recall, and maybe I really don't want to remember anymore. I just hope you will always be here, Xena, across the fire. Seeing me, hearing my stories, helping this bard's soul soar.