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Ingenueshe lives off petrichor.

sometimes she'll spend her lonesome days watching the soft spell of rain
reach the depths of cyclic whispers and paradoxical breaths, lost behind her sleepless eyes.

she laughs at gravity.

sometimes she'll notice how the broken inertia of her body is nothing but a reflection of
the chemistry given between her grief and the afterglow of beautified language.

she smiles.

sometimes she'll break the bullets caught in her teeth and mould the tired fragments into something worth loving.

Loverswe became lovers
from a key stroke
before knowing
any other way-

as if it were
by match strike,
melting the scrim of snow
that clouded our days-

by a single letter
and then another,
taking us there
as each descended-

discarded feathers
touching down where words
spark and conceive
at the right time-

and so it was
'til it no longer is;
how we came together
from a stanza and a rhyme

Smooth PebblesEvery swooning blade of grass vindicated.

The deep blue silence of a turning wheel.

A precise number of fireflies in the apples.

The coiled jealousy of all reptiles.

The palsy of a prisoner's first sob.

A tranquil sorrow in a dog's ribcage.

All faces obliterated from the moon.

Nirvana observed among smooth pebbles.

The slough of mountain summits in decline.

Every planet reprieved of its orbit.

The ecstasy within a mandala.

The space between spaces.

Honing the blade.

.
.
This also.

little stirrings XX: moments

Your chaste sun-tipped fingers,
the blinding of your eyes-
how is it I never knew you before?

The moon-flecked range of your sound
from deep within caves
reverberates the ribs of shipwrecks.

I tread the curves of night
that wash ashore each hour,
the moments like seaweed in the shallows.

crossroad"crossroad"

to see what is before you -
how you have left your mark,
your residue upon my soul
which will never wash clean -

trajectories launched long before
and moments ago,
nudges of time considered
banal and forgotten,
in hindsight, still make no sense

not to recognize events ending
at the start of that step
bringing fates and fates closer,
no longer able to halt it

or retrieve what once felt
preferable to the
weightlessness of the unknown,
to try and recall the feeling-

looking at me, incredulous
to what you have, standing
at the hundredth crossroad
of your existence-

as if, at last, the moon has noticed
that its

InsatiableHe wonders what she hides
behind that mischievous smile--
a silent crescent wile
and a glance of curvaceous skin.

The little black dress that shows
what's hidden from within
and artful hands that tender the sin.
How her eyes can melt his soul--

glittering of coal blackness
that flash and dance and burn
and makes his flesh crawl and yearn
for the feel of her skin on him--

the way of tangled limbs.
His lover's mouth with its hunger,
insatiable till it's over.
Her body's total passion renders

its pureness, and oils his body
as she moves like a serpent,
slick with her wetness,
filled by the whiteness of him--

moonlit gleam o

A Season's Echo of PassingRows of dried corn stalks bend
with the wind that
thirsts for rain
that will only come when it has died
and the ears of corn cease to rattle.

And the thunder's distant laugh
will chase after the snakes
heading for their mounds on higher ground,
their husks abandoned-
the flash floods may yet pass them by.

lost kingswe were all lost kings of the electric
highwire act, tripping like ghosts through boarded
windows and vacant lots that never held
any secret we wouldn’t tear apart
cables stretched over the place we used to live
drooping tightropes for worn-weary dancers
that pirouetted from house to house while
we just paced the streets of glass and concrete
our mothers worried on their rosaries
and poured their fears into party-line chats
father just poured another scotch and said
boys will be boys so let them have their fun
and us out in the night between the tracks
and the towers willing our years into
smoke and bottles and dolled up girls that just
laughed like juice joint sirens calling us home

QuicksilverYellow streetlights bleak
wearing necklaces of rain-
pearls against the streak
of finger painted windows
overlaid
with quicksilver brocade
and nests of spider eggs.

Where once this place
was abandoned, in a room
the creak of floor boards
drowned by thunder's boom,
revealed
by shadow and lightning strobe,
paint-by-number puddles trace

around two who sleep sound
in the aftermath
of their heated tryst
that causes the panes
to mist
and condensate.
Moisture trickles down

brittle wallpaper paste
and folds of stained flesh
amidst mottled reflections
as the sound of rumbling
deep
in the sagging rafters
stumbles, tumbli

Of treesDeep ghost-groves of freckled aspen
burn white beneath the winter sun,
whisper hoary adulation,
canticles for the Holy One.
And in the trees, the spirits dance
betwixt the motes of starry snow
illuminated by the lance
of lightning flash and candle glow.
All lights within this place combine,
reflect in splendour, white on white,
and mingle in a trance sublime
that breathes in peace through winter night.

The lofty heads of stately pine
rear up and brush the lowered sky
as if they could, by straightened spine,
so please the God who built them high.
Their incense needles, fragrant, fall
in silence to the chapel floor
and still a

following the colossussome days i forget my existence -
lost and writhing and twisting my wrists in some
epileptic search of the cosmos for lonely gods and
their shadows hidden among the dying stars.

with one finger one brushed my face and spoke to me
in ancient languages of the tree lords and flying kingdoms
below and told me of how he longed for the feeling of
fleeting time and of the stars that were birthed inside him.

he sobbed and crouched and the earth moved and trembled
with swift movements in unheard-of dimensions and directions
and he whispered of winds and sandstorms filling his lungs,

"i am disintegrating, i am disintegrating, i am disintegr

Failure to ConformA new town. A new country even. It was time to start again. Jake nodded affirmatively. He could forge a new personality here. No more "going with the flow;" it was time to push against the grain, rebel against authority, walk confidently, wake the fuck up sheeple! He threw open his closet and grabbed his favorite Hot Topic T-shirt ("You laugh because I'm different; I laugh because you're all the same"), ready to take on the world.

He sauntered down the street, smiling and giving a nod to every eye that caught his, and the ones that didn't as well. Sometimes he offered a cheerful hello and a jaunty wave, but only to the cute girls. He snorted

Lyrical HorrorThelettershow they runtogether
sing together
be together
Won'tyouscream wheni cut off
their heads
shake their
bodies shove
their spirit
Make them dead

You ask why don't i
needyou
heedyou
feedyou
whenyouknow how
I crave my grave
boundletters
instead.

The beautiful HauntingIn the sweetest birdsong
I hear a haunting voice
Memories of our love
That bid my heart rejoice

In floating cherry blossom
I see the beauty of thy face
Echoes of bright halcyon days
And thoughts of fond embrace

Love for just a season
Times river dried and gone
But you still live and breathe
In this heart you e'er belong

Lips that touched, our token
Like a flower pressed
Found between our pages
And living in this breast

Serene and cherished lover
I read your crafted words
Etched upon eternity
Such comfort they afford

Your eyes I see before me
They touch and warm my soul
Passions flame still burning
For you, who makes me

StarvingMy appetite for you is insatiable;
Greed permeates my being -
I'm starving. The ache in my
stomach is a fire in my marrow;
I'm alight with a hunger for your
passion, your strength, your
every inch - I'm ravenous. Fill
me with longing; let me feed on
these moments spent clinging
voraciously to your presence.
Light me up with delicious desire;
your being engulfs me, and

Darling, I can never get enough.

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More from `jade-pandora

EndlessThe wordspill subject: "parallels"

"spill" version (unedited, unable to see what I was writing):

cerebrally floating
within reality
and what I mean
desperately I dance
on my toes I spin
from deep within
my arms parallel with
the wind in my hair
eyelids flutter
fingers flare
stretch beyond limits
when my skin tears
deafened, wind tunnel
of boundaries blurred
from my nirvana
runnels red
parallel and connect
this cage of light
my sustenance
overexposed
a sense of journey
where time shudders
in a past tense
to spin in place
with nothing to parallel
in envy would you mock
this is nowhere.

"scrub" (edited, c

Mantisnight air rises
humid
with crickets

stars ripple
back in time

unripened green
born under
the last phase

more still than the arc
of a full moon--
praying mantis

in supplication
atop my car--
I wait respectfully

DeliriumIt was inflicted, and endured
the most chilling way
in exchange for anonymity

Feeling apprehensive,
disorienting me,
arms already lost to me

Out of my depths, I had inhaled
the moment when
the wave washes over me,

At the mercy
in this pregnant darkness,
determined to resist
and unable to

Clawing at the arching sky
an abject prisoner of my gag reflex -
a vertical expression
of a horizontal desire

I wanted to go
to the heart of suffering
to navigate deep
within its undergrowth

The search for clarity takes courage

Gently sloping,
a bay of exquisite symmetry;
those perfect curves

Dancing among the whitecaps
I had the se

Elysiumfingers retrace
his scars un-mended,
moths aside
attending the darkness
of a moonless night

the drone of his breath
shifts low,
a mist that rolls
over his chest
illuminated, aglow

the smell of him,
anointments
that bathed his body
in ceremony, now
a portent to his passing

the sole utterance
amiss,
a heavy pall awaits
my vigilance
as time grows short

solemnly I rise
to sit astride
and honor him in song
for the final journey
to Elysium

TempestTempest wears itself the irony
Upon my sleeve for all to show,
And in my hair full fast asleep.

The devil may care but I can't be
Bothered, nor will I ever know.
Tempest wears itself the irony

Twisting itself cruel around me,
Pulling me under in its tow
And in my hair full fast asleep.

The eye of the storm reverently
I'm oblivious to my every foe,
Tempest wears itself the irony.

A lover's trust in my creed
When the pain I give is slow,
And in my hair full fast asleep

Sustains us through the tyranny
Where all is lost in spite the flow.
Tempest wears itself the irony
And in my hair full fast asleep.

re-entryhigh in the blackness
of clearest night
framed by an open window,
vapor trails fill the sky

re-entry;
pieces of space rain down,
streaks of silver
atmospheric shimmer-

ghosts of astronauts
returning
silent in the cold void
where summer cannot reach-

I watch past your ear
while you move over me;
quiet breath,
soft nostril gusts

a single grunt
suggests your voice, and
I look away from the sight
brought to earth,

pulled back from light years
by the deep welling warmth
as your ship plummets
into the gulf-

recovering while
unnoticed
from the open window,
the residue continues to fall

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What If I Stay

by `jade-pandora, Apr 16, 2007, 3:02:37 AM
Literature / Poetry / Nature / Free Verse

What will you do when the
tides sieze and come to rest,
and the gulls all fly away.

Where will you be when the
last ocean shivers on the last day,
and the skies cloud over forever,

suffocating the sun, and
holds life at bay in a season
lost from one of its pages.

How will you feel when finally
I forsake you to your fate,
to the untold ages - and yet...

what if I stay.

What If I Stayby `jade-pandora

Literature / Poetry / Nature / Free Verse

i was inspired by yet another photo, this time by another photographer on my devWatch. i simply added it as part of my comment to `ssilence's deviation "What If I Stay" [link]

As you can see, i've since posted the piece properly here to stand on its own.