PSYCHE

Psyche

 

Through cosmic windows

in the unbounded expanse

in which all matter exists

or does not exist

 

Psyche traces

the orbital paths

of lovers

 Two lost souls

on parallel planes

who may never unite

 

Mirrored images

not yet conceived

 

Psyche draws

them into dreams

depicting Love's

concentric spheres

Subliminal messages

not yet perceived

by their conscious minds

 

Until - one day -

when purely by chance

their eyes should meet

                                                                         © Rose

No One Hears

No one Hears

 

everyone listens

but nobody hears

a cheek glistens

with silent tears

shouting won't make

a blind man see

crying won't ease

the misery

colours are fading

turning to grey

shadows are braiding

the last light of day

a monochrome halo

hangs in the sky

the scornful echo

of a seagulls cry

night keeps its vigil

so paint your dreams ~

amongst clouds dismal

a miracle gleams ~

night brings its silence

that deadens and deafens

night brings its own sentence 

........nobody listens.......

ⒸRose

The Wind And The Sea

The Wind And The Sea

Stained with the wilful moods

of the tempestuous sky

the concupiscent sea sings

to the wanton wind

waves arched into undulating

curves

heaving, cresting, caressing

soliciting the wind

tempting him

with her allure

desiring his

stimulating touch

to kindle, to ignite, to inflame

her arousal

until in union

their lusty

motion, emotion, elation

rises and falls

surges and swirls in an

ardent dance

erupting 

onto the shore

spilling over

long dark tresses

of seaweed

shadows

that lie glistening

in the moonlight

upon the pale naked sand

ⓒRose  

Good Night Sadness

Good Night Sadness

 

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling

I know it's every line

I know how the shadows fall

and wait for them 

to hide the sadness 

written there

before I close my eyes

I slip into a dream

bleak and bare as the ceiling

Even the moon is bare

and cold as stone

 

A watchful tree stands

rigid, silent, accusing

 

A violin begins

to keen piteously

 

A butterfly -  merely

a fragile shadow of itself

flutters, trapped

in an erratic flight

 

A rose weeps

a putrid bouquet

There are no shadows

here

Here there is no

 escape

from the sadness

written on

the ceiling

©Rose

 

This piece was inspired by Paul Eluard

'Adieu tristesse/ bonjour tristesse/ Tu es inscrite dans les

lignes du plafond'

Theatre of the Absurd (Repost)

Theatre of the Absurd

The head/face in this image is a photograph of a reflection that appeared on the wall. Don't ask me to explain it - I can't - but there has to be a logical explanation for it I just haven't found it yet. Anyways, it freaked me out so I paired it up with an image of the moon ( it looks as though it belongs there).

just a face
in the crowd
of a meaningless
universe
midst arcane
echoes
of abstruse
dialogues
and tired
cliches
just an
incongruous
character
in the theatre
of the absurd

©Rose

CONSERVATION (Repost - Sad Elephant)

Sad Elephant

I love elephants and this one below just looked so miserable I felt so bad for him. The elephants in general seemed to be really moody and unhappy - I came away from them feeling really sad :(

While our lives leach
through the porous
warp and weft
of alien foundations
Our native memories
grow pale and then fade
behind our downcast eyes
And like a straw
in the wind
imprudence sweeps
conservation
into the cracks
of extinction
whilst civilisation
looks on
© Rose

Neon Sunsets (repost)

Neon Sunsets

between neon sunsets
and concrete dawns
in a city that never sleeps
we are robbed of our dreams

on a bed of lies
and broken promises
we drift apart
weaving dreams
of another time
but it's all a lie

we drift apart
conceiving dreams
as time ticks over

our emotions
cocooned
in hostile womb
waiting
to be expelled
like afterbirth
and
like frail moths
they too will be drawn

to the lights, the pulse
of the city that never sleeps
dying to live, living to die
between concrete dawns
and neon sunsets
© Rose

It's Complicated

It's complicated

how I hate the phrose

'it's complicated'

a tactic used deliberately

to conceal the truth

Nature is simple

it reflects only

itself

©Rose

Enjoy The Moment

Soon the trees

will be ablaze

with colour

Candid

as gypsies

in radiant shawls

dancing and swaying

Teased 

by a flirtacious wind

they will 

quiver and flutter

restless

in their final days

of beauty

©Rose

Poppies

Poised poppies

petals pursed

Seminal seeds 

spilled

And burst

 upon

hairy pods

to die

of

thirst

©Rose

 

Broken-winged Bird

The icy moon

still

holds memories

of Autumn

The thrush's song

still

fills the air

I

still

search the skies

a broken-

winged bird

I am

still

chasing 

shadows

©Rose

The Silence

She looked at him

and wondered

what it was

she was supposed to feel

Contempt?

Sorrow perhaps?

But she only felt

the numbness

inside of her

He stopped talking

Perhaps waiting 

for a response

She looked at him 

and wondered

what it was

she was supposed to say

He spoke louder

Perhaps to invoke a response

Perhaps to force her to listen

Perhaps to fill the silence

But she only heard 

the silence

Only felt the numbness

 Coiling tightly

inside her 

Holding her,

Binding her,

to the silence

between his words

where she felt safe

 ©Rose

You Make Me Feel

You are trapped in my mind

in the maze of my dreams

haunting me

Your whispers brush my cheek

get tangled in my hair

tormenting me

Your touch  melts my heart

scorches my soul

torturing me

Your kiss leaves me breathless

words die on my lips

confusing me

Your eyes leave me vulnerable

naked before you

shaming me

Your gaze grazes my skin

I embrace the pain

you make me feel

©Rose

Your Kiss

Sweet poison -

My protests die

upon my lips

A million

butterflies born

to die

flutter,

restless

from your kiss

©Rose

Sometimes I Swear

I am normally quite sane

but it's impossible to remain

calm, cool and collected

when one is so affected

by awful technology

I offer no apology

Sometimes I swear

at windows 8(s)

What were you thinking

Mr Gates?

Sometimes I swear

at the cookie trackers

the computer hackers

the pop-up ads

and the one click cads

Sometimes I swear

at the scoundrel scammers

the weasel spammers

the dodgy emails

the programme fails

the useless apps

and at Google maps

Sometimes I swear

 I may not appear

quite lady like I fear

but yeah

Sometimes I really swear

©Rose

That Which Is

lift the veil

of pseudo melancholy

from this dismal canvas

for the raven sings

his courtship song

and she,

freshly bathed,

preens coquettishly

elated

she frolics

spritely

to amuse him

 flirtatious harlequin

with raven wings

enchanting

to behold

©Rose

A Hot Summer Night

Standing at the window

you slip your arms around my waist

and kiss my bare shoulder

I lean back into you

and lay my head on your chest

How softly the night

folds around us

The moon, sleepy yet, rises,

grandiloquent in her

lace patterned negligee

beguiled by the gloaming

Bats, necromancers of the night,

flittering fragments

of darkness,

excite the sullen summer air

as they frolic, reveling in the gloom

The sweet smell of moon flowers

glissades through the window

carried on the chorus 

of crickets

singing to arouse the stars

A moth seduced by the

candle light

flurries into the room

throwing shadows across

the walls

as it flutters and pirouettes

around the flame

I hold my breath

spellbound

You place your hands

on my shoulders

run them gently down

my arms

and cup my hands in yours

lifting up my hands

you scoop up the flailing moth

and ever so tenderly

you close my cupped hands

around it

Confined between

our hands the moth

 vibrates and thrashes

I feel the pulse and throb

of its wing beats

against my palms

I feel too the pulse and throb

of your heart on your palms

pressed against my hands

Its beat, familiar, like that

of velvet wings

You blow out the candle

and open my hands

the moth clings to my palm

blowing gently

you release it into the night

You draw me into you

I feel your heat

my heart flutters

 Encircled in your arms

 I begin to understand

the burning desire

of the moth 

to kiss the flame

©Rose

Haunting Moments

snuggled together in the

afternoon

reading poetry in my

bedroom

making love through the

colours of sunset

you my romeo me your

juliet

scattered between the

pages of poetry

are these haunting moments

of you and me

©Rose

Know That I Grieve

i have not buried you

in the past

but as a keepsake deep

in my heart

sometimes I catch

a glimpse of you

as you pass through

my mind

and my heart skips

a beat

you smile at me

like you did then

when our eyes met

and my soul danced

If you should find

yourself

thinking of me

know that I 

loved you then

truly, deeply loved

you then

and know that

I grieve the death
of that moment

in time

when I could have

told you

but instead

I said nothing

and let you walk away

 ©Rose

The Poet

He runs his hand tenderly over the white sheet

picking me up gently he lays me down upon it

he gazes at me pensively, a dreamy look in his eyes

He begins to fondle me

I feel the gentle pressure of his fingers and I am

warmed by his touch

As his passion increases I feel the pulse in his fingers

Ardently we begin to move as one 

every stroke excites me

the way his hand moves fills me with exhilaration 

and every time he pauses I am filled with the

arousal of anticipation, willing his next move

Suddenly I feel his mouth warm and moist upon me

his tongue probing me delicately

his teeth grazing me playfully

Gradually he pulls away, inspired,

And I feel the pressure of his fingers once more

I feel his urgency as he moves passionately over the sheet

Then the climax of his last word and his pleasured sigh

brings us to completion

He picks me up, kisses me, covers me

and then slips me into his breast pocket

where I lie passive and content 

listening to his heartbeat 

feeling his chest rise and fall

as he reads the poetry we wrote

©Rose