Sultry Musings

Warmth cruising through my veins

following thoughts of you…

Your eyes penetrating my hidden desires

accelerating the beat of my heart with a light caress of your finger.

Magnetized to you, following unspoken commands

my body demands satisfaction only you can provide

in time

with the rhythm of your smile…

I have been feeling all sorts of emotions this month. As I should as September is a month of transitions and in my life experience quite a bit has occurred during this month to have my emotions in a tailspin. Amidst the swirling and working on the release of my next poetry collection, Reflections: Past, Present, Future, I am striving to remain open and receptive to the universe. My heart has not led me astray once, as long as I listen to her. She inspires me with all types of visually tantalizing word play. Sometimes I surprise myself when I re-read some of the poems I have written.

While reading over some of my pieces, I begin feeling warm and tingle all over as I remember some of the inspiring factors behind my words. Erotic is what some of them are. Romance gathers quite a few more and Confrontational Life is how I would categorize some of the others. Where I find most of my truly powerful pieces are in the more erotic zone.

I have been trying to force myself to write more mainstream poetry, attempting to delve into the political poetry spectrum but that is not me. Not at all. I enjoy romance. The feel good vibes and love stories of life inspire me. The soft neck kisses, hand placed at the small of the back, brushing the hair away from the face moments that are quite innocent but invite so much more.

I enjoy writing about that so much more. The soft red light in the room you can see just through a partially ajar door. Quiet music playing. Low moans swimming towards the entryway as imaginable feats of pleasure are being reached. These are the scenes that paint my poetry so vividly, my sultry musings as I shall call them from here on out. Well, let’s see where this will take us…

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Imperfection Perfection

I found one of my notebooks in my desk at work today (I have several notebooks stashed in various locations at home and at work). Looking through that notebook I discovered some of my poems that were written about six months ago.

Talk about surprise. I am caught off guard sometimes when I re-read my work because the intensity of my poetry is amazing. But alas, it is my poetry, right? This one particular poem, Imperfection Perfection, is one of those poems…

Staring at my reflection

at the results of bearing life

stretch marks gracefully swim

across my abdomen in waves

of caramel kisses.
The low slope of my breasts

reflect the nourishment

I provide for all who came forth

from my body.
My body is imperfectly perfect

in it’s own way

loving me as I love it…

– Why Yet 11/29/16