Angel Lover, Guardian Dear

I imagine I’ve discouraged you, so true to me, so untrue to you

I imagine I’ve made you cry, want to say goodbye, and fly away

I imagine I’ve made you ashamed, shame on me, I am to blame

Yet stay with me still to fill me with you in bright burning flame

Through an insane game of life while sipping ambrosia dripping

From your heavenly sweet lips in another fit of purest passion

That was fashioned by Eros for the satisfaction of deepest need

As you feed on me, feeding on you, ever true to love from above

Advertisements

Stuck By Eros: A Tribute

Wrap you in my arms so tight, heartbeat to heartbeat,

Press my lips to your lips, kiss your chest, feel the heat,

Eyes like an ocean, pleasant to drown, I go down

To your tree of life where to yield my sacred crown,

And find an immortal river from which to drink

Just as our undulating bodies move in sync 

To the holy rhythm of everlasting love

Painted through ages by countless angels above,

Stuck by Eros, filled with his potion of passion

To breath your life till I lie lifeless and ashen 

 

beautiful-boy-field-flowers-shirtless-Favim.com-99176

Waistband

Excitation from inhalation of your cream sweet aroma

And suddenly this dream breaks the banality of reality

In the finality of passion to allure me to secure me to you

In full view of this world into which I am now bound

To the sound of your love and laughter forever hereafter

As you press my head to your waist where I am graced

To taste your infection of life affection without rejection

As now beneath your lifegiving hand I am your waistband

And I thank you . . .

Feet: A Tanaga

Will you come to me today?
Will you teach me how to play?
Can we dance in glowing rain?
Will you take away my pain?

Will you bring me to my knees?
Will you do just as you please?
Can we ride the flashing seas?
Will you heal my deep disease?

Will you save me from this heat?
Will you lift me to the sky?
Can you teach me how to fly?
Will you let me kiss your feet?


Note: The Tanaga is a Filipino stanzaic form that was originally written in Tagalog. The form dates back to the 16th century and has an oral tradition. The poems are (usually) not titled. Each is emotionally charged and asks a question that begs an answer. The Tanaga is:

  • stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains.
  • syllabic, 7-7-7-7 syllables per line.
  • rhymed, originally aaaa bbbb cccc etc., modern Tanagas also use aabb ccdd, etc., or abba cddc, etc., or any combination rhyme can be used.
  • composed with the liberal use of metaphor.

Lap of Luxury

Blow through my soul to rekindle an unquenchable fire

That burns higher than the flames of shame and blame

Because I belong to you in a sweet surrender so tender

Which the very angels long to remember in the heavens

Leavened with grace and love from above that descends

Into your tender heart in which I take my forever-part

As I lay my weary head to bed in your valley to be fed

So graciously by your tree of life to be so young and free

You Found Me, Bound Me

Held in captivity by the creativity of your love

In utter passivity as you wrap your arms around me

And hold me spellbound by the sound of your beating heart

For the better part of the night with delight from the stars above

With love untold in this world from heaven’s trove in the grove of gods

And you sing to me such a sweet melody incredibly pleasant

For such a peasant as I have been till finding you

And binding myself to your smooth chest

Like amulet freely worn now to adorn

Caught in Tangled Webs

And the Innocent Weep

Oh, indeed, the tangled webs people weave
To only end in grieving so many innocents!

Married man is attracted to woman with boyfriend,
And he sends her many messages of romantic love,
Which she happily receives like an harmless dove,
Never dissuading him, though not quite persuading

Married man calls her and this does not appall her;
No, she talks to him and never balks at his advances;
She calls him ‘sweetie’, never blackballing this man,
She even lunches with him, adding to a lustful hunch

Married man is excited and delighted in his progress
While she vindicates herself as being ‘only a friend,’
But indicates she would certainly like to go out again,
And the man begins to imagine his romantic chances

Ah! but he is caught and so is she … now what will be?
Now the woman turns as a viper ‘n burns against him;
She shouts harassment from the basement of her soul
And pretends that she only intended to help this man

She even has the audacity to claim her mate knew it,
Yes, knew all about it, telling her lies, selling her soul;
But her bowl of bold statements is filled with holes,
And the man’s wife knows as reality grows upon her

Oh, indeed, the tangled webs people weave
To only end in grieving so many innocents!

Intricate, intimate ligaments that bind and destroy
Leaving victims broken with only sham tokens of . . .
Forgotten love??? Yes, forgotten and forsaken, too;
Both were wrong; will they end where they belong?

Oh, indeed, the tangled webs people weave
To only end in grieving so many innocents!