A poem, written for personal pleasure, earlier this evening while watching a lovely sunset at Branford Point. :)

In Paranthesis

In time I will see
the truth -
that spark of light -
behind your words, which
(until then)
fill me with darkness,

and, perhaps, one day
I will thank you, with
(not until then)
a touching sincerity,
and a smile that will,
at last, bring light to

my world-weary eyes,
which (otherwise)
will swim and sputter,

and, perhaps, one day
I will wonder
what it was that tied
my heart to your hand,
your words,
your teeth.
(No, never that.)

Written...ten minutes ago. For personal pleasure.

Purgatory


She defines herself with love,
Marks her days
with the ebb and flow of passions;
Measures moments
against gazes and smiles.

The first:
stumbling, hesitant, and yet,
Eager.
Wild and foolish and painted with
longing, with secrecy, despair.

Then, those which paled and withered
before the light of spring,
And those that ate away her nights,
Steeped her in shadow, kept her
waiting for twilight.

Next, her melancholy summer
Spent a broken, shameful plaything,
Spent regretting
Spent recalling.

And now, this love:
At first soft and slow, but passing
like a sigh.
Slipping into memory just as she surrendered
Fully.
Now, deep and dark and desperate,
Trapped inside her.

So she looks ahead and wonders,
When will she become the marker?
Will moments be started by her smiles,
will her eyes be writ as songs?
So she looks ahead and hears the whisper:

Don't fret
just wait -
Endure.

But she looks behind and listens,
finds horizons are much too far.
So she looks ahead, imagines, determines,
silent and resigned...

Still, she is waiting,
continuing,
Undefined.

Written four months ago, for personal pleasure. Still appropriate, only in a much different way...

Convincing

It lingers in the curve of my neck,
The slope of my shoulder,
The palms of my hands,
Teasing,
Taunting,
Calling forth sighs.

It follows,
Curls in my hair,
Waits on my tongue,
The scent of your sex,
The taste of your skin.
Taunting,
Teasing,
Convincing.

Written for personal pleasure in February 2009.

Poems written for personal pleasure, Oct. 07, suddenly appropriate once more.

( A Lullaby, In Memory )

-and-
( A Tick Too Soon, Too Late )

A story written for student-workshopping in my Intro. to Creative Writing class, Fall '08 semester.

An assignment for Creative Writing, again. This time it was to write a short story that centered on an object.

 

A poem I wrote for a Creative Writing Class assignment. Will probably end up being turned into a song, and was featured in the school's literary magazine, Calliope, along with "Melted Snow".

( Blank Canvas )

*Note: The first stanza is about a Japanese holiday similar to Valentine's Day. On Valentine's Day, girls give the boy they like chocolate, and a month later, White Day takes place (on March 14th) and it is a tradition for boys to give the girl they like a ribbon. If she wears it in her hair the next day it's a sign that she returns their affection. Another month later is Black Day when those who did not receive chocolates or ribbons throw parties for themselves so they feel better about themselves.