poem

Daily, Writings

Blushing Storm


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Fearless in my own skin, I struck
I swept in, caught you off-guard
My sounds showered your mind, sent shivers through your spine
We rumbled together that night
drenched in the moment
absorbed by each other
I was a lot for you,
covering the sky with my presence
you encouraged it
We calmed down
the morning settled
you slowly rose
I became aware of my actions, of my excessiveness
As your vast gaze met mine,
you painted my cheeks in a hazy red
New to me, I became a blushing storm
struck
captivated by
somebody else

 

– J

 

 

 

 

Photos, Writings

a Sweltering Summer


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I came naked out of the shower when I noticed;
the first rays of summer-sun shone onto my bed.
As if they were a blanket, I crawled underneath them and let their gentle warmth caress my body.
This body which had yearned for their touch throughout a winter’s eternity.
As she spread her energy all over me, I let out a tender tear. One filled up with all that longing, released into a powerful sensation of belonging.
Little did I know, that summer would be…

At last,
rain.
I noticed today that the leaves on the branches were bleached
that their comrades had fallen to the ground
A dry summer leads to preterm death
I learned that the sun can take lives
just as it gives life
that everything in abundance,
causes imbalance
and so I greet rain when nature yearns for it
Just as I release a drop of my own
when my sun-deprived body is touched by the first rays of summer-sun

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Writings

I found my smile in Paris


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The vibrant swaying of the bass-strings, they lure me in until I’m thrown out and caught by the whimsical beating of the drums.

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Rhythmic, never harmful.
Dumbfounded, I smile. 

I watch the drummer as I imitate his moves with my arms. In response, he raises an eyebrow in amused confusion.

I’m swept up by the vibrations of the guitar, or more so, by the guitarist. His stance, leaning against the piano, emanates sex. A woman in the audience is captivated by him, she has caught his eye. They flirt in the invisible open, I ponder, in the background, over all that can be said without words.

Somewhere in-between the jazz-bar, the red wine touching my tongue beneath the heat lamps and the sunny steps of Montmartre, I feel it. The long-forgotten, self-inflicted happiness comes surging through me.

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Writings

Content Overload


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We’re thoughts circling the insides of a beehive
Colliding, connecting, introspecting
We think to achieve, to thrive and believe
All has been said, I think, as I lay down my pen
No thought is unique, it’s all on repeat
My words are shadows of scribbled notes,
of poems, novels, of scripts from before
But, what else can I do than to play some more?

Daily, Writings

Momentarily Truths


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The eyes we meet, the words we speak
in the now we guess
in the morrow we know
the words were spoken
but the guessings were broken
the eyes we met fret nothing
the mind to which the eyes belonged,
listened to understand
did its’ utter most to grasp
drew conclusions even

but you know, as I know
we’re built off of momentarily truths
for change is inevitable as such
it boils us down to nothing
until tomorrow gives us something
and so the story goes on
about those who knew
until they knew anew

Daily, stories, Writings

Sizzling Connection


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Between two souls lie a path
it’s riddled with obstacles
they hold hands and on the path they
play
jump
run
dodge to the ground
one looks forward
one looks backward
so to keep an eye open for all that may intervene
they hord experiences along the way
picking fruits from each other’s brains
They’re feasting off of each other
Cherishing the moment they found one another
the ones they’re in, the ones that will come

One day one of the souls hopes it’s hallucinating
for in the horizon the path is sectioning
From forces, as well as reasons, unbeknownst to both
they’re forced into separation
Not by will for who wants to end such a thrill?
Rather, an inkling of something undeclared
perhaps a future not shared

They cry and grasp for each other
scream and shout as their fingers disentangle

Behind them the path dissolves
onto their own they go

In the torture they find comfort
if they met by chance ones
it may happen twice, if not;

Daily, Writings

Your mind goes beautifully with that dress


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You tell me how beautiful I look
how my dress makes you shook
Your body leaves no doubt
it yearns for mine with all its might
Your compliments I sow,
for vanity is not to tow
however
My looks are in diminuendo
my mind’s a brave crescendo
Filled with deviations
in need of attention
Attempting to be all it can
learning to play with what’s at hand
to be a
kinder
wiser
loving
version
perhaps even a brilliant person
Despite my mindful aspirations
I’ve never once heard you utter words
of earnest appreciation