One Day

One day I hope to have the kind of love that cherishes love. 

I hope to one day experience the depth of a requited love. 

Such a one whom would appreciate  these myriad poems, the depth and truth of their sentiment. A worthy one.  One day, my love will be worthy of the toil of emotion for which I will spare no effort to express. Maybe not in word but certainly in deed. 

My love, my love, be thee unseen. But felt in the ether you are. Reveal thyself!

Fathomless

The drive home felt like rank oppression seeping into my soul.  The closer I got, the heavier this weightless blanket pressed down upon me. Everywhere I am, you are not. Fathomless darkness has gained a foothold. I cannot see.  

Fusion

I cry when I 

Touch me

For my hand 

Is not yours

My flesh 

Burns for your touch

Skin 

Flesh

Tongues

Labias

Meet 

In volcanic 

Crescendos 

Leaving nothing

To the imagination

Wailing 

Screeching

Flailing

Ecstasy

In unification 

Of spirit soul flesh 

spiritus sancti

 

 

Lost

It gnaws at me

Nothing helps

Sleep does not rest it. 

Medicine does not cure it

Music does not silence it

Silence does not 

Diminish it

I tried to live

Yet only to recede within my being

Not all of what

I was

Not asleep 

Yet not fully awake 

Search myself inside

All that come forth

Is this darkness

Which threatens to swall me whole

I cannot repel it 

I asphyxiate in 

Its resplendent heft

Love Offering

She came to me,
A willing offering
Her body in reverse prostration
At my feet, Opening...
Giving her self to me
To be fully received.
Her flesh; my canvas
Her breath; my brush;
thin as a Single silk thread
That weaved and abated to my touch.
deliberately I ran my fingers along the
silhouette Of her curves
She pulsed beneath me.
Removing my hand from a vat
slowly I saturated her
With the slippery shimmering
Substance
Immortalized body
Pieces of flesh
Forever impressed upon canvas
Body In motion
Art making love
Of the rarest most exquisite kind

Constant Craving

Constantly I crave your presence. Waking, dreaming, sleeping; my thoughts always lead back to you.

Your name like a church bell or call to prayer rings in my head. Beckoning me to your ever presence

No place in the universe can you be where my heart does not lead to. Your silent calls are deafening

As barren as the dried up sea am I without thee. Pour your all quenching love upon me, now & always.

I will search for you love, in this life or the next. I remember my solemn vow to love you eternally






- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Chrysler Dr,Detroit,United States

Split Open to the White Meat

   Ellyn McNamara April 5, 2009 ©

How is it 
that I am expected to find the sounds
the words
the phrases to convey
what I feel?

R U Experienced?
Have you felt passion
that pierced the bone
and made you feel like
your head was 
Split open to the white meat?

No.....
You got it all wrong
It's not in the body,
It's in the mind 
It's the soul
passion runneth over
and spilled onto the floor
bathing everyone around us
in it

Have you felt that? 
Do you know it?
Can you taste it?
Can you touch it?

There are no words.... sounds....
nor encyclopedic knowledge
to say that when I met her.....
My head was split open to the white meat!