A Collaboration with Moonblossom witing the One and Notadeadpoet writing The Other One
Tonight's the night!
My spine tingles with anticipation
as I sit here awaiting your arrival.
The night,
so dark and warm, is silent,
save my soft breathing,
and the nightingale's peaceful lullaby,
floats by on a cool, gentle breeze.
The smell of the pine trees behind me
fills the air,
surrounding me with their sweet scent.
I sigh and close my eyes,
hoping I wait not in vain.
Suddenly, I sense your presence and open my eyes.
There you stand in front of me,
a smile playing on your lips
as you hold out your hand.
I take it, smiling as well,
and rise to embrace you.
The clouds have parted,
revealing a bright full moon,
its silver beams illuminating
the night in all its glory.
Instantly, I feel the ancient song
of our ancestors rise in my bosom.
Glancing at each other one last time,
we close our eyes and give in
to the blissful pain and pleasure
of our metamorphosis.
The Other One
The mutual uninterrupted glances
meld into one mystical mist
as you unblinking watch
my ephemeral existences
take on their variable entities
enveloping you silently
agape with disbelief.
You feel my soundless words
bathe you in their silence:
I am a soulful, fleshless entity,
a mindful spirit Muse eternally
your strength to hold sturdily
yourself no sapling bending in the breeze
beneath my strength my self
your oaken tree;
You deep inhale these wisps of breath
to make them vital part of you.
I stand – no blood, no bone to break
yet leak that syrup, sap, as mortally
as human blood for Nature's tree,
a Maple bleeding for your love eternally;
You suck with eager lips immortal flow
inhaling droplets making them a part of you.
I am your branches reaching out
to regions far
as hydras arms stretch out
to where you are
unyielding to dire Nature's blasts
Your shadows intertwine my limbs
with yours like hungry vines.
You lay your limpid self as Iris colors in her bow
to make my self as one a part of you.
I am your weeping willow tree
your tears for joy – for sorrow – shed in empathy
your fears untold beneath deep umbral shades
that drape your vulnerabilities
beneath its drooping sheath, a verdure shell
protective wreath for lover and beloved as well.
I saw the tears of wonderment well in droplets fall
to bath you in a warm caress, the we of me and you.
Then, it all happened.
My oaken strength imbued you with firm power to withstand
my hard attack, my delicate assault upon your soft restraint.
What liquid oozed from languid pores on rugged bark
lay dormantly untouched, moist tongue unwilling to relent.
My branches held you locked embrace by mutual consent
fingers clasping outstretched tips awaiting song of lark.
My hot vapor exhaled not in exasperation
upon your drenched existence sweat beads
baptizing even now my spirit's foliage
exchanges fluids from your willing pores
fills mine with what you are
as I fill you with what I once had been
your tepid lips expecting heat of mine
to raise your expectation of much more
were singed ecstatically
welded thence to mine,
a swollen surge, Tsunami,
overwhelming torrent
my branches, bark becoming you,
electric thrill with lightning burst
coursed through the essence of my soul
as it, in you, became my whole,
and at the peak of vibrant thrill
against the weakness of my will
myself in you, my lifelessness,
emerged our metamorhosis,
the I now you awaiting me.
and you, as I, wait patiently.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 902 times
Written on 2007-05-15 at 05:08
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Write a comment (requires login)
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Metamorphoses
The One . . . and the OtherTonight's the night!
My spine tingles with anticipation
as I sit here awaiting your arrival.
The night,
so dark and warm, is silent,
save my soft breathing,
and the nightingale's peaceful lullaby,
floats by on a cool, gentle breeze.
The smell of the pine trees behind me
fills the air,
surrounding me with their sweet scent.
I sigh and close my eyes,
hoping I wait not in vain.
Suddenly, I sense your presence and open my eyes.
There you stand in front of me,
a smile playing on your lips
as you hold out your hand.
I take it, smiling as well,
and rise to embrace you.
The clouds have parted,
revealing a bright full moon,
its silver beams illuminating
the night in all its glory.
Instantly, I feel the ancient song
of our ancestors rise in my bosom.
Glancing at each other one last time,
we close our eyes and give in
to the blissful pain and pleasure
of our metamorphosis.
The Other One
The mutual uninterrupted glances
meld into one mystical mist
as you unblinking watch
my ephemeral existences
take on their variable entities
enveloping you silently
agape with disbelief.
You feel my soundless words
bathe you in their silence:
I am a soulful, fleshless entity,
a mindful spirit Muse eternally
your strength to hold sturdily
yourself no sapling bending in the breeze
beneath my strength my self
your oaken tree;
You deep inhale these wisps of breath
to make them vital part of you.
I stand – no blood, no bone to break
yet leak that syrup, sap, as mortally
as human blood for Nature's tree,
a Maple bleeding for your love eternally;
You suck with eager lips immortal flow
inhaling droplets making them a part of you.
I am your branches reaching out
to regions far
as hydras arms stretch out
to where you are
unyielding to dire Nature's blasts
Your shadows intertwine my limbs
with yours like hungry vines.
You lay your limpid self as Iris colors in her bow
to make my self as one a part of you.
I am your weeping willow tree
your tears for joy – for sorrow – shed in empathy
your fears untold beneath deep umbral shades
that drape your vulnerabilities
beneath its drooping sheath, a verdure shell
protective wreath for lover and beloved as well.
I saw the tears of wonderment well in droplets fall
to bath you in a warm caress, the we of me and you.
Then, it all happened.
My oaken strength imbued you with firm power to withstand
my hard attack, my delicate assault upon your soft restraint.
What liquid oozed from languid pores on rugged bark
lay dormantly untouched, moist tongue unwilling to relent.
My branches held you locked embrace by mutual consent
fingers clasping outstretched tips awaiting song of lark.
My hot vapor exhaled not in exasperation
upon your drenched existence sweat beads
baptizing even now my spirit's foliage
exchanges fluids from your willing pores
fills mine with what you are
as I fill you with what I once had been
your tepid lips expecting heat of mine
to raise your expectation of much more
were singed ecstatically
welded thence to mine,
a swollen surge, Tsunami,
overwhelming torrent
my branches, bark becoming you,
electric thrill with lightning burst
coursed through the essence of my soul
as it, in you, became my whole,
and at the peak of vibrant thrill
against the weakness of my will
myself in you, my lifelessness,
emerged our metamorhosis,
the I now you awaiting me.
and you, as I, wait patiently.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 902 times
Written on 2007-05-15 at 05:08
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
