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Looking At The Moon
This lunar love I share with you, touches
the precious crater of our desires.
Slowly waxing.
Slowly waning.
Giving in now to the dark that covers it,
Spatial fingers point the way.
Again waxing.
Again waning.
Lifting itself to meet gravity's force, yet
Floating into space.
Waxing, waning.
Waxing, waning.
Bursting forth in starlight showers
That light your tender face.
Slowly waxing.
Slowly waning.
Loving that is round and full and satisfied,
For now.
Car Passion
Her curves are candy-apple red
And they sparkle with high-gloss sheen
I love the heartbeat of her piston heads
Her headlights wink: low-beam, high-beam
I love to run my hand over her leather interior
I see my reflection in her polished chrome
Her seats were made for my posterior
Her gearshift made for me alone!
I try not to bruise her soft rubber tires
Or make the slightest scratch on her lovely skin
Her horn proclaims to other drivers
“Honey, I’m the best that’s ever been!”
Driving my baby surely is heaven!
They really knew how to make cars in ’57!
Pendragon
This is ADORABLE! I understand this passion too. Though my car isn't a classic and I refer to it as a him, I know the feeling. Love your poem!Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
May I just take a little detour, Pen, and share this poem that I wrote for a man I was seeing about his special red car....and me, of course. ;)
Driving Miss Rosie
His Rosie is a car of red like all the ones before.
She hums and purrs beneath his feet, no matter where he goes.
I know he loves to bathe her, to see the way she gleams,
So others look with envy, while he says, "In your dreams."
With the tiniest attention, I too will shine and gleam.
Others may not want me but he'll never have to dream.
My interior will not be cold when he takes me for a drive.
He'll never have to warm me up because I am alive.
So I pray when he's old and feeble and they take away his key,
And they say get rid of Rosie, he will trade her in on me.
Okay folks...all lanes now open...but continue to drive with caution...more Passion ahead. Anyone else? Please?
I know not passion
and passion knows not me
but madness, lust,
unbridled appetite are my insanity.
Throw me no bone
of romantic love
with its few clinging
pieces of meat,
but give me the whole animal
that I might employ my well-honed teeth.
Grrrrrr!!! Yeah!.....Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout! You don't happen to love the sound of a cracking whip ...do ya? Down, Boy! Just kidding.....Quote:
Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin
Almost reminds me of Richard III....almost....
Why do I love those crazy, obsessed, psycho dudes? Why?
Quote:
Originally Posted by firefangled
i realy like this , especaily theses 3. its beautifull and full of love,not often is passion shown that way. verry well done
steph
extreamly cute,Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
i realy like this, well thought out, verry easy to read.
you never cease to amaze me pen.
steph
Bon Appetit
the phone
Would you like to come for supper?
the door
A smile of approval, a kiss.
the kitchen
Merlot? I'll pour while you set the table?
the dining room
No, sit here, beside me.
the living room
Now, tell me everything while we watch the fire.
the bedroom
Let me read to you.
the door
A smile of approval, a kiss.
the phone
Good, you're safely home.
the living room
I embrace myself and smile.
the kitchen
I close my eyes and dance around.
the bedroom
I sink into cool sheets, feeling very very full.
I don't know why that works, but it does - and very well. But I don't know why it works... I don't think it ought to, really, but it does!
May I just congratulate you both at once. I enjoyed these so much.Quote:
Originally Posted by ampoule
Pen, that had to be a Chevy! Although I loved the '58s too, especially the convertables.
Miss Ampoule, When I was 18, I had a 1964 GTO (they didn't make very many of that year). I was guilty as you charge, but I think you would have been the only one who could have made me hang up my keys. Even Mary Ann Bensko couldn't do that.
Thank you. I took a chance. It takes a lot of reading between the lines. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin
Quote:
Originally Posted by firefangled
Thank you Fire. Cute reply.
Okay everyone....we NEVER run out of PASSION so keep adding as you like, however, maybe jon1jt would be so kind as to give us our next word/subject.
Our truest life must be,
when we are awake in our dreams.
Do not cover your passion with shame,
bees cover themselves with the reason for flowers.
This day is your lucky day,
the morning light comes as a gift.
Mothers in those days rejected fear,
when it deserted them, they awoke.
Late night radio opened the way West,
that train at light speed — feel it?
This is the cause for your sadness,
laughter betters your chances than sex.
A Lexus is an uncomfortable bed,
for someone with a broken heart?
I’m not listening anymore,
I’m not lovesick for a shadow!
There is no cosmetic
for beauty like happiness.
The Ghazal (pronounced guzzle) is a Persian form, originating in the 10th century. It has a “true” form and meter of couplets called Shers and meter called Beher. I won’t go into that because I am using the form as it was introduced to Canada by John Thompson, that is a series of 7 - 19 couplets functioning as independent poems yet have subtle ties to a theme. I have tried several of these through the years. Thompson’s Ghazals whipsaw me every time.
The classic Ghazal in English is sing-songy and I think that is purely an outcome of translation of the form. I generally like translations for what they impart to syntax and grammar, but the classic in this case had no appeal to me.
So here we go. Criticism welcome. I’m a tough old guy.
The guzzle is a Persian form
designed, perhaps, to make me feel a clumsy worm.
I will not, shall not, must not perform
or fill the ranks to make a quorum.
No, I’d rather run naked in a savage storm
than join in this too orderly swarm.
Welcome CdnReader! I do believe we're going to continue on with her choice of 'Seasons'! I don't think Jon1 is really participating here.