pushing you in puddles

black and white rain, once, kept
you inside

with an open umbrella as you
watched your

finger draw a heart on a window;
you served

tea to your dollies, they were kind,
never asked

for seconds; you skipped rope 
while waiting

for your best friend, drops of 
rain jumped

off branches just to kiss your
porcelain like

face; a childhood, once, kept
you in 

memories as you looked in a
mirror to

see you’d grown up into a
beautiful woman,

had a family, moved, some
place in

between you wrote poetry,
then searched

for a new voice; rain fell onto
a street

where holes form puddles, you
looked outside

and saw a new friend wave, you
untied an 

apron after serving tea; “come
on, let’s

play,” he said, pushed you in
puddles, you

found your new voice…

Copyright © 08/06/2013 Ð Ṝ Ƣ Ñeedle & Ŧhread®

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two of us

she, on one side of the world
he, on the other,

shower of hidden emotions where
rain comes rolling off

a roof and fills an oak ring barrel
water of her soul

he, brushes the surface and drinks
anticipation tasting

her skin
her look

he, picks flowers to smell her scent
she, in light coming through

her bedroom door keyhole, holds his
desires, she

presses them against her breasts
passion opens a shuttered

window that was once closed, once
locked from hurt

they write
they meet

in the middle of the world, drawn in
a moment, held close

where water from skies washes away
time apart, lips touch

eyes like pools of intense depth
measured by colors

his hand caresses 
her hand lusts

they walk into love, the space apart
abandoned, end.

Copyright © 06/03/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

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a beauteous thing

penetrating holy men
penetrating diseases
 
inhabitants lonely persons
 
say one, a beauteous thing
wore a mask
 
forest blended
 
in the highest boughs, rain
rustled to reach
 
roots, through a dry, parched surface
dust choked with nervous hands
 
she silently looked 
patiently she 
 
waited
 
engulfing the air, yellow diesel dozer
exhaust
 
exhausting life
 
yellow cabs exhaust life in a city
 
trees in this green environment
soon to be growing
 
in gray cemeteries
 
bark becomes the headstone
 
with deforestation, moonlight 
walks in a slump shouldered
 
gloom
 
he appears from a promising
distance
 
eyes meet like sand in a
desert, slow, deliberate
 
she has the mysterious voice
he the sensual one
 
spread out on rainforest floor
she takes off her mask
 
feel the tiny, delicious pain
he fills her up
 
tender flesh 
 
persistent love
every glance
 
she, “i want to be the victim of your
passion”
 
scent of the absence of negativity
 
forest embodied with embers
burning
 
in a villa, coastline painted
rings adorn fingers
 
happily ever after…
 
 
Copyright © 05/06/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®
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the desert shadow

he, searched for a love much like a parched man 
searches in greed for another glass of water
 
she, in looking for another direction, headed 
for the desert sand to get away
 
night poured over the heat of the day like water
from a hose poured over a car’s radiator
 
he, spent weeks in the desert looking at the moon,
trying to pull it down to mask his loneliness
 
she, sat on the morning dune, heard nothing, saw
nothing, yet through the silence, her heart throbbed
 
he, found her footprint, then another, the wind blew
ill trying to cover one, then one, unsuccessfully
 
she, lay there, beautiful, the sun ignited her eyes,
desert sand heat, her passion
 
his smile hung over her face like a piece of 
driftwood on a deserted beach
 
she, pulled out a photo from a pocket in her 
paisley dress, sun ignited it, burned slowly
 
she, ate his heart out for what he had done, 
he, now a shepherd on an endless journey…
 
 
Copyright © 03/30/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®
 
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