"Gold on Film"

The alarm shrilled
lingering briefly
he invited the morning sun rays in.
Just another day on his calendar
the morning was as the previous,
but this one was strangely
full of hope and belief.
How could he have realized it then?
No signs had laced into his dreams.
Building up anguish seeped into his bones,
he did not turn to his wife to voice it
nor did he kiss her good-morning.
He had decided to change the rules to the game
No longer a game player,
he had become the game changer.

He dressed up and ate his breakfast
reveled in his children’s eyes,
the goodbyes at the airport were short.
Going into the day that was every yesterday
of his tomorrow, his work on the film sets.
On location during a shoot she walked in,
exuberant her cheeks swallowed
each step she took left a foot print upon his heart.
Shifting her gaze; his eyes followed
concealing her dying heart inside a rib maze,
his world spun in only her direction.
Silence filled every hour she was out of sight
limbo rocking his heart back and forth.
His need had grown patient arms
but it was her tears that undid him.

Then they met again and again there after,
every moment tasting different
sweeter than the last.
He was quiet and unassuming in his disposition,
the gentle elixir for all she’d known before.
Her spilling joy was everything
missing in his uniform existence.
He knew her ache was boiling
beneath her jubilant crust,
she couldn’t bear to see him alone
not even for a second.
She had vowed to watch over him every night,
he had sworn to dance with her every day.
She loved him beyond her dying heart,
he loved her beyond all reason.









Submitted to One Shot Wednesday .

"Mapped"

Sat on the grass, listening to the crickets,
laid me a map on the ground,
wide and lusty.
Fornicating with the soil it touched my outskirts,
It said, “Take me”
I said, “I will after the beautiful storm”
Looking at the map more carefully,
I realized it was fleshier,
mountainous in all the right places,
with hills exactly where there were meant to be.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I touched it and
Lo and behold!
It was my lover’s body, laid out on lascivious grass,
and it was the best map I could think of,
with all the GPS gadgets strategically placed,
he took me on an exhilarating journey,
to places I had never dreamt of.
So as not to sting him, I used blue and orange thumbtacks
to mark my favorite destinations,
the towns that I’d visit again and again with urge wondering lust,
he led me to the creek where we celebrated our selfness,
leaving a love stain on the leaves,
we mapped out our eternal tomb.

"Deified"

Screaming angel prays,
imprisonment tumbles flat,
shining some stag bends.

"Jungle fever illation"

It was a lovely early morning in the wild, the sun was just mounting up high in the sky and the hill-side whitened with blossoms of mountain ash. Late autumn colors flashed hues of red, yellow, drab, purple and light to dark shades of green. A rich coverlid of grass— exotic animals and birds—with private untrimmed banks of primitive apples and pebble-stones all negligent of one another as beautiful fragments. That is what I called them or thought of them. Drooping shy and unseen were our love thoughts of love yielding and acts of love climbing. Hands and arms of love, lips of love, phallic thumbs of love, breasts of love, bellies pressed and glued together with love. An all earthly chaste of jungle love it seemed.

Watching our body of love--the body of the man I love with me as the morning dew airs blew from the southwest, nature unraveling--the hairy wild-bee murmured and hankered up and down— griping the full grown lady-flower, curved upon her with amorous firm legs, took his will of her, and held himself tremulous and tight till he was satisfied. In the wet of woods through the early hours, the curious roamer kept at work; his hands roaming all over the body with bashful withdrawing of flesh where the fingers soothingly paused and edged themselves. The mystical delectable night—the strange half-welcome pangs, visions, sweats, had brought us to pulses pounding through palms and trembling encircling fingers, a rocking conclusion at the horizon. Flushes after flushes, surfing in the rain as everything seemed better when wet. Hot hands seeking to repress what would master him; his voice carrying me into a land of open grass plains, a place where anything and everything was possible. Jungle fever driving us mad. Then a wholesome relief, stillness, content with fulfilled sighs. Work was done as we tossed carelessly to fall where we could in the beautiful wilderness, our safari concluded.

"Toffee and Ice-Cream Swirl on Safari"

Trickling in caramel toffee warmth down my back,
he slithers as sugar magic streams through our veins.
My stomach aching to receive the lightness
that is the tone in his caressing voice,
crushing like stampeding animals,
herded through a kaleidoscope rainbow,
remembering to slow down.
Then taking it all in before the atmosphere disappears,
our Safari sketched.
Erupting into chaotic cacophonous diatribe on frailty,
realizing this is reminiscent of nothing ever felt before,
giving new meaning to feelings.

Every fiber in my being driven to call out to your wild,
primitive self,
brooding and emotive yet somehow fragile,
elongated musings drawing out in the middle of the afternoon,
tasting toffee colors and mischief swirls of ice-cream on the lips of you.
Us dripping down walls like water draining,
sapping of energy but still energized enough,
partaking in another rendition of love’s ballad.

Harmonizing elegantly, sensuously, sumptuously,
and scintillating lust masquerading in erotic repose.
None knowing the depths of this passion we share,
giving up all attempts to decipher our puzzle,
meaning only to enjoy this moment.
Hoping for many others that resemble this
delightful melting of ebony and ivory,
titillating, unabated and inebriated spirits morphed into one.
Marathon sessions of exasperations,
sleeping and awakening to start all over again,
drawing in breathes upon shattering release,
losing grip on sense; giving in to shameless enjoyment.
Deploying every trick ever leaned through time,
eliciting the love, pleasures of body and mind.
Electrifying skin prickles with droplets of sweat,
glistening with sheen of exhaustion,
palpitating hearts beating in unison,
so many beats per minute.
Racing to the point of passing out we shout;
"Oooh...now isn't this just the sweetest insanity of toffee and ice-cream swirl?"





Submitted to One Shot Wednesday .

"SHAH'S 500K+ TWITPARTY-CONGRATULATIONS"

FOR ALL YOUR LOVE AND JOYS THAT YOU GIVE ME...WORDS CAN'T DESCRIBE HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU MAKE MY LIFE AND OUR FAMILY'S. BABY *ILU* INFINITY. I HOPE YOU'RE BLESSED WITH MORE THAN 10 MILLION FOLLOWERS. BECAUSE I KNOW I WOULD FOLLOW YOU TO THE END OF THE EARTH SHAH~


THANK YOU FOR ALL YOU DO FOR ME...

WITH ALL MY LOVE~
LARVK & FAMILY~

"Polaris 1°"

Strutting my verve on these wireless waves,
flaunting my literary drinks, assimilating succulent dissertations,
wanting your doing words to feel my curves,
Teasing out all manner of fascination and enthrallment.
Sucking your bookish toplip with my words my Space Cowboy,
You, tasting of punctuation and unfinished sentences, allure!
Slowing down love, as you delicately drink the intoxication of my syntax,
feeling my word licks through your Wifi space; iPad, iMac, Nokia, Kindle,
steering your gravity towards sublime expression.

Watching me as I slowly strip off the formula of what rhymes in you,
flowing only in pure hardcore with no meter.
I am so grammatically undressed as I feel your holographic 3D image
around and within me, loving this feeling of allegorical nakedness.

Lying with me in a bed of supple supposition,
phrasing your desires in my mind,
pushing towards the opening number.
There are no shy abbreviations between us,
you’re in me as am blooming in your every era,
daring yourself to be my body scribe,
printing me in your soul forever.
Touching the inside of my declaration,
writing your bounteous words along my hips,
while feeling our hot groove of sultry alliteration,
reading aloud the mutual arousal of this written chorus.
Loving me in my sonnets,
Me, understanding all of your composition,
There’re no word limits to us,
No censored feelings.

I am unadulterated and unedited,
I am your prose,
you complete me with your aspirations while
penning me with your satisfactory sigh.
You’re my written muse needing to be read,
baby, we have come a long way.



Submitted to One Shot Wednesday .

"Translation London"

Wet night shivers,
unfolding lotus soars,
a scream under the waves.