Tag: love

When I Came With You (Revisited)

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. It was here one night among white blossoms and junipers that we lay touching while the rest of the world snored in their small beds. We breathed frost words to breezes on branches breathing deeply in the deep woods with no earthly destination hidden behind the pulse of

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A Dreamer’s Shangri-La

Beyond the valley sunsets through a nestled paradise for dreamers beside a crystal lagoon where the deep and green go my laughter embraces the wonders here My heart beats warm where waters flow from a sparkling waterfall I bathe away the devil and drown her in the quick I slumber on the stardust seldom ever

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Walking The Dark Road

My blog is 4 months old and it already feels like a neglected child crying for attention. September has been a busy month here at the Dey residence with the transitioning of my children going back to school and getting them to pay attention to their new schedules. My oldest has been a champ at

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New World Slavery

A woman from a fishing village slaves in a sweatshop, making shirts for retail stores, selling them at low prices to help save shoppers money to spend at McDonalds after the Little League game tonight. She makes barely enough money to pay the rent of her shared one-bedroom apartment in the city where hucksters scramble

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Nightfall (Old Poems Revised)

Night falls swiftly on us— our lives are a flash in the sinking sun, ten thousand years of rebounded vibrations— I call it life but you call it hell. You steer my sight to the setting sun and tell me that it’s evening for us all— the night is silence: no more color, no Hawaiian

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Summer Nocturne (Halcyon Days Revisited)

A gentle breeze caresses trees where children play in savanna gray. Meadows laugh whispered breaths on a beautiful warm summer eve. An inquisitive rain slips from dappled clouds; sunlight bright on its mist that kisses my upturned face: soft caresses like satin dresses making love to my bare skin. I lie in the arms of

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Young Love

—1995— Sun-kissed golden down of woven sunlight on feet so small Sundress yellow shines flaxen halo on cushion grass Body electric sitting in the shade glorious Delighted little girl pounces and kisses lips deeply silkily Earthly heaven scent is a warm sunbeam gleeful A bed beneath sheets of pure love as long as rivers run

Coming In Color (Black and White Revisited)

My mind is empty among white blossoms. My lips speak not of this bubble of a heart. An attractive woman notices me anyway and takes me as I am. My habits flow to the sea like American motorists on summer vacation. The neighbors complain about our caravan outside their windows in the early morning rain.

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The Sea On My Honeymoon

The sea on my honeymoon is nearly silent around me. A faint skitter of fiddler crabs on the sand connects to a murmur of the night-wind in the palm trees behind me. My lover tide is making low complaints like the aching earth, caressing and bitter against an expectant land. I keep half-awake the anguished

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Kisses (Our Kisses Revisited)

Lower your lips to my heart Where our souls touch and flame Where you are ageless in my embrace Protected enough to say you love me Lay with me over moss and leaf Drenched in last night’s rain Their shimmering surf at our thighs Where diamonds and poetry love to weep In this discovery I descend

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My Love (Goodbye Coming Revisited)

My love’s long blonde hair frames a pretty face A red blouse peaks where no boy ever made mine feel any good My love knows open mouth She speaks fluent oral communication Her lips soft and full taste like silky high life laughs and cries My love knows skin touching Sweet kisses down Claiming me

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Down the River Hebrus (Revisited)

I dreamed I sailed alone down the river Hebrus to the island Lesbos where I found sudden love at the center of a liquid mirror that reverberated with the clear perfection of my face—a sweet face with angel grace as done by the master hand of the world’s finest Victorian painter. The morning sun behind

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Tonight

Tonight embraces me with its darkness That’s where you will find me Alone Waiting for you Waiting with loving hands Wanting you Quivering with anticipation beneath my consuming touches of exploration Darkness, do not mute my cries Ablaze inside the night Find me Caress me Take me to the pinnacle spinning out of control Guttered

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Trembles: An Ode To Dali

Quiet trembles speak frozen morning creakings. Heaped breaths billow from seekers seeking suet and seed. Rabbits and mice eat carrots and cornmeal at my feet. Thunderous trembles agonize across my front lawn when John Dey’s sky blue Chrysler drags ass past us and sends bone saw grunts to scamper my guests from the open sea

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Rain

Rain on the window paints calligraphy on my wall— I recite verses to music playing where pear flower stars burst forth in the multicolored bowl on my kitchen table where I once compared nature with artifice and made love to the girl with ornamental hair That’s what happens, she says to me now, when tradition

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Finding Love

Again we are moved, obsessed, reaching out, entwining. Enter me, I plead. Sate me, I beg. Below my window moonlight covers us as we climb higher; the peak is ever closer, closing in; all the right switches are being connected. We find our sweet release in each other’s arms. We come together, trying not to

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Driven To And From Black And White

There it is in black and white, this feeling that drives me to sexual intercourse. It’s old tingles that used to come in color when I was barely a teen. But the passage into adulthood has clouded the rainbow till now I come alone in storms, my eyes searching with a half-smile for the sunlight

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Steamy Passions, 3

Moonlight spills across our bed revealing the smile on your sleeping face— No doubt you’re dreaming of an earlier passion spent Watching you sparks an ember glowing and a sudden thrill percolates in me So I close my eyes and send my hands drifting to a warm moist place spotlighted by the moonbeam’s gentle glow

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When I A Child

When I, a child, when I could, I voyaged out into your cool company— the coldness of boots pulled on at the doorstep before walking that large solitude of no cricket, no owl; walking with silent snow feet among birdless woods tossed among the taste of echoed blood at such a time, invisible and dull

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When I Came With You

It was here one night among white blossoms that we lay and were touched while the rest of the world snored in their small beds. We breathed frost words on branches, breathing deeply in the deep woods with no earthly destination, hidden behind the pulse of dawn throbbing upon a trigger’s touch. You were delicate

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The Sea

The sea is nearly silent around me. A faint skitter of fiddler-crabs upon the sand connects to a murmur of the night-wind in the palm trees behind me. My lover tide is making low complaints like the ache of earth caressing and bitter against an expectant land. I keep half-awake the anguished spirit of self-love,

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Remembering

Do you remember how we crept along fences young together I, at twelve, stumbled through the other side of eternity never to think we’d ever become middle-aged Do you recall homesick high-school weeks making us feel gentle like days of a last breathless uncertain chord played— a warm rich memory of an old woman’s concert

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Our Kisses

We bedded with moss and leaf and sand drenched in that evening’s rain; a shimmering surf at our thighs where diamonds and poetry wept on our ocean waves. We stirred to passions rising in us, caressing below an unwatched moon. mouths lips open touched together pressed hot wet arms sparked entwined legs Your breath and

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The Vampire and the Girl

The vampire said, “I would like to bring a smile to your face. I promise I won’t bite.” “Please, oh please,” she said, “bite me, yes! I’m longing to feel your mouth between my legs!” She stood over him and planted her feet wide on either side of his coffin. Her upper legs opened and

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Dissimilar Worlds (Dressing Revisited)

Sometimes I still dress in past transgressions— I like how I look; old styles are comfortable in vogue color, length and brand. But you would strip me naked; dress me in a style that won’t embarrass you— dress me like the Christ you wear on you even though I’m everything you want: my sex, my

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I Love A Leanan Sidhe

I first met a Sidhe when I was 20. Leanne O’Brian was Irish and believed very much she was an actual descendant of a Leanan Sidhe (pronounced lan-awn she). She was beyond gothic-punk and World of Darkness games. She was real and beautiful and captivating. Leanne fascinated me with her Sidhe tales. I knew little

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Dead Life

He died before I was born But still she masturbates to his picture Still she comes to his songs She weeps to know he’s at a standstill Her grief rises from the icy depths of our dead planet Her tears fall from a broken sky at the threshold of her own dark doorway destination And

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Down the River Hebrus

I dreamed I sailed alone down the river Hebrus to the island Lesbos where I found sudden love at the center of a liquid mirror that reverberated with the clear perfection of my face—sweet with angel grace, as done by the master hand of the world’s finest Victorian painter. The morning sun behind me poured

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Lavender

I like how I look wearing lavender No deep yellows to energize your permanence for me No hot pink except inside me No rich purple royal sainthood Or the vibrant green envy and jealousy you love And no riotous reds to make you want to strip off my dress No No stark raving vehemence ready

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Waking (Alone Again)

Naughty aching Eyes wide open I sit in bed ready Naked Knowing this feeling Almost like dread: Anticipation of the climax almost to me The feeling gets stronger As the seconds crash like waves washing over me I close my eyes Sweet Surrender Dew Bubbling forth Trickling down Over folds Moist and glistening My core

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Goodbye Coming

Judy’s blonde hair frames a pretty face My libido grabs me by the folds Her pretty red blouse peaks where no boy ever made mine feel any good She knows open mouth She speaks fluent oral communication Her soft lips are full and taste like silky high-life laughs and cries Laugh and cry I came

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Alone

Alone Tense and horny Silence in her bedroom but not in bed Her hand wanders downward Playing Alone Mirror watching Reflections She hums music Sweet songs in her head Humming hymns and strumming chords of her favorite songs Fingers Music Playing Pressing hot Agile hands certainly make the moment more attractive Fingers reaching Probing Dirty

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