Saturday, 14 May 2011

Dancing with the Stars















Dancing with the Stars

On sultry summer nights, in the wilds of my mind, surrounded by the swift gusting brush of natures hallowed breath, I feel my soul rise into the dark open sky, surrounded by a million flaming wheels that spin and twirl in a giddy dancing swirl of light and fire! There in the flame of your touch, I shudder and sweep across your surface, aflame with a soulful desire, the dip of sanguine hips flicker in the night, enraged and aroused by this tango of wild delight, to whir in shameless dizziness to the incendiary blur of your shimmering sight, the flash in the fullness of my reflection, splashed across this vision of spinning might, caught in the roar of this suns trembling rhapsody, wrapped in vanquished embrace, bursting into an epiphanic nova, a crescendo of moon and sky, incandescently arcing between these tongues of fire, flicking and licking into the night, one to the other, an incendiary passion of mystery, rapt in this resplendent majesty, shooting across all eternity, tonight.

© Richard Michael Parker 2011

Forbidden Love






Forbidden Love

This silence we have woven,
that spins each silken sticky thread,
is a vanity of hidden conceit,
caught in a web, cocooned in a heartbeat,
muffled, as if all joy was dead,
laced with the bane of the unforgiven moment,
shrouded in the emptiness of every word unsaid.

I have stoned them up, inside my heart,
built a fortress around their emptiness,
and watched as the darkness,
encased all, in forgetfulness,
entombed within this vaulted woe,
one silent brick at a time.

The wanton eloquence of wasted years,
fitful pangs of sullied lives and fears,
enclosed within a stony silence,
stolen heartbeats of forbidden love,
forlorn yearnings, trapped within an endless gloom,
to sing forever behind this stonewalled tomb.

We are enshrined within this mausoleum,
bound, gagged, and desecrated,
confiscated, man handled, and manipulated;
Tongue tied and twisted, shamelessly misled,
torn apart, lost, within a phony fugue,
forlorn, these fated hearts are bled.

Each muffled beat, squeezed through time,
forgotten remnants of loves light, and laughter,
shining through the cracks and shards, slide,
between each earthen brick, and hallowed mortar,
a fiery mix of blood and pride,
a sepulchre to this tethered halter.

Come, my love, and smash this wall to dust,
tear down this stony silent place, you must!
and let these hearts resound in joy once more,
to fly into a golden light, and soar,
on soulful wings effulgently elated,
my twin souled love, forever, we have waited.

© Richard Michael Parker 2011