My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I formulate infinity stored deep inside of me…

Archive for the 'Attempted Poetry' Category

Something, nothing

July 20th, 2018 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

Drugs without the high.

Sex without your sky.

No answers to the wherefores and whys.

You’d give anything for something, an horizon filled with nothing.

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Perfect oblivion

August 04th, 2014 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

Kissing her is perfect oblivion, but not cold darkness, it’s an oblivion of white hot light. Sound stops, worries stop, being worn away by clicking wheels stops, and all that is, is right now and always, and all that remains is touch, and heat.

Her face is so warm against his, her skin like silk. He kisses her gently, yet intensely, lips searching, finding, caressing one another, the light only getting brighter.

He wants her to know his heart, that she is his love, his home, his heart’s only desire, he wants her to know these things through touch alone, touch without words.

His limps embrace hers deeply, drinking in the feel of her, disappearing in her, his love, his home, his right now and always.

Kissing har is like being enveloped in white hot light, and he longs for that perfect oblivion.

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December 20th, 2013 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash,Life

Kind eyes, midnight eyes meeting my melancholy green.

A conversation in glances, in magnetic looks, learning each other without words.

Her eyes are beautiful and warm and so right now, seeing the me that I am, laid bare, the me without masks, without the choice of presentation. Soothing stormy eyes, calm in a tempest eyes, seeing the me that maybe only God sees.

Soft finger-tips brush my cheek, my chin, my lips.

Then a fleeting kiss.

A fleeting kiss.

A fleeting kiss.

A flash of perfect moments kept in existence with imperfect words.

Lovers not to be, want to be, maybe.

Who knows?

I don’t know.


Liquid fire

September 13th, 2013 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

He drank her in like liquid fire, the sight of her, the feel of her skin.

He drank breathlessly, slowly, knowing all the nexts.

She’ll stay until she goes.

He’ll burn and burn until time turns him to ash.


Random words

April 15th, 2011 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash,Random Thought,Writing

In you, and on you, and with you

September 04th, 2010 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

She’s in your head and in your heart, she’s all over your skin. She’s this beautiful, nebulous maybe, yes, I don’t know, possibly.

She’s please God, please. Let me stay here, just let me stay. Please. Talking to God at 4 a.m. with the voice in your head, the voice no one hears.

She’s bright light and right in front. She’s vanish and perfect dark.

She’s sad songs, and lonely songs.

She’s Heaven and Purgatorying.

She’s want and wait, air and breathlessness.

She’s love and safe, peace and sleep.

She’s home and away, too far and away.

She’s your muse and your torment, forever in you, and on you, and with you.

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Sometimes all he sees is her

January 30th, 2010 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

Sometimes all he sees is her, all warm brown eyes, curly brown hair.

She’s behind his eyes when he closes them to fall asleep at night, she’s in his head when he wakes in the morning. موقع روليت

He sees her in little things, beautiful things. لعبة قمار اون لاين She’s sun shining through bright green tree leaves, she’s a pretty teal butterfly fluttering nowhere in particular.

He sees her when the sky shifts from pure blue to black infinity. She’s so right there, in the silvery full moon, in the brightest stars. bet 365

This woman, so dear to him, he sees her in raindrops bouncing off a city sidewalk. Drops splitting into drops, splitting into drops, tiny spheres of water with rainbows inside. She’s with him, even when she’s not.

Sometimes all he sees is her.


Not pure

December 07th, 2009 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

You are not perfect, you are not pure.

You are full of cracks, cracks too deep to fill with all the liquor, all the morphine in the world.

You are damaged, and fucked up, and worn down.

You’re just pretending to be alive, pretending until you can stop.


The befores you don’t want

December 04th, 2009 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

You remember before her, before her warm brown eyes, her curly brown hair.

You remember before her touch, and before her kiss, before you ever held her close, told her you love her.

You remember the grey, and the empty, and the weight of lonely.

But when you’re with her, her hand in yours, her lips against yours, you forget the befores. The grey has color, the empty’s all filled up. The lonely isn’t heavy on your chest, doesn’t drag you down.

All those befores, they scare you though, they absolutely fucking scare you. They’re places you don’t miss, don’t care to go again. These places are like ghosts, they haunt you when it’s quiet. They stop by and say hi when you’re alone in the dark.

She keeps it all away, the places you don’t miss, the ghosts that haunt, so you want her to stay. She might not, and you know it. The might nots make you uneasy sometimes, they keep sleep away when you let them in, but they’re worth the risk of happening. Without that risk, all those befores would be so right now.

She could be gone tomorrow, or the next tomorrow, or the next, but maybe she won’t. You want to tell her things with a voice you can’t find. You want to kiss her slow, and be with her as long as tiny gears turning tiny hands allow.

She might go one day, but you don’t want it to be today, not today.


Let you in

October 30th, 2009 | Category: Attempted Poetry,Creative Flash

I want to let you in, to hand you the key to me.

I want you to see all my locked rooms, the lonely places people never see. They’re all dark, dusty, full of hidden things. I want to show you the rooms that keep my secrets, my fears, the dreams too stupid to show anyone else.

I’ve locked so many rooms, guided people away from the things I don’t trust to anyone. The things I didn’t trust to anyone, until you showed up one day.

I want you to see everything, to know everything and maybe stay awhile. I want you to stay, though I want most people to go.

I want to let you in, to hand you the key to me. It’s scary wanting something so much, scary to feel so much trust. You might not take the key, you might not like what you find inside. You might say, “Goodbye, nice try.” So much I don’t know, but I want to let you in.

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