Leaves rustling in the breeze
Nature’s wind chimes
Close your eyes
Let the magic of earth transport you
Sounds heard across centuries
A beautiful shared symphony
August
August fades fast
Fast as she came
Tender moments bathed in amber glow
and still I stand
Holding steady
Basking in her warm glory
One more day
or two
or five
Lucky there are Augusts
After all
Tsunami Season
She is unforgiving
She is hungry
She rises up with the clouds
Preparing to crash back down
Clawing everything back with her inky tendrils
Angry, she thrashes
Before her descent into madness
You can’t outrun this vicious fate
If you lie in her way
All are the same in her clutches
Just as she came she flees back out
Rage appeased from her feed
Retreating out to sea to sulk
For all we’ve done, her small revenge
Leaving her mess for those left over in her wake
september
There’s a certain hope that comes in autumn , the wild wicked summer air dissipates and makes way for something calmer, something cosier. Not necessarily safe, but comforting. I ease in to the cool crisp air and sigh as I watch the leaves around me start to tinge with muted orange, playful yellows and bold reds. Just like summer sunsets before, autumn brings with her her own shades of promise. I inhale crystalline air into my heaving lungs, ready to slow down, standing at the edge of a fog covered field, staring out into the unknown. I am ready for whatever comes next, what winter winds blow my way. I change just as the seasons do. More me than ever before with each passing moment.
Un-named Mystère Noire – Chapter 1
The rain beat down angrily on the pavement, Joe could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the cab pulled away from the curb, leaving her to stare breathlessly at the looming house in front of her. She couldn’t believe the property lay still un-touched…well, really, she could understand why. The ghosts this place contained. She shuddered, the cool mist of the rain setting in against her skin. She pulled her thin rain coat further into her shivering frame, cursing that she had denied Baker’s plea to let him accompany her. She was stubborn, like her father, and she had felt deep in her bones that this was something she had to do alone.
Joe walked slowly towards the house, as if it were sentient and could sense her arrival. She knew that was silly and yet she couldn’t help treat this whole situation with the deepest reverence, just in case. She stopped momentarily, midway through her passage to the doorway, she shifted in her now soaked converse, feeling the weight of her backpack, a reminder that she had all the tools she needed. She was getting in this time. She spurred onwards towards the front door, reaching the relative shelter of the old wooden porch just as an ominous boom sounded, followed by an almost ethereal flash of lightening, causing Joe to catch her reflection in the front window, looking just before the front room where her nightmares often featured.
Joe grasped the cold metal handle, expecting some resistance, if not for locks but because of the sheer age of the place by now, but to her surprise the door sprang open with ease. Almost as if she had never left. She took a deep breath, stilling herself, preparing to bring herself face to face with the only place she had never been able to bring herself back to. Until now. She took one more deep breath and opened her eyes, taking exactly 7 steps forward before turning right into the front room. The exact same path she’d taken that night, nearly 15 years ago now. She could’ve turned on her flashlight, but she didn’t. Scared of what she might see, constantly reassuring herself that it was silly to think that way.
The lightening flashed again just as she had entered the front room and turned towards the base of the fireplace, just as she had that night. Joe screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that surely would’ve woken the neighbours, had there been any within earshot. In front of the fireplace, half on the red brick, half on the hardwood floors, lay a man, his face unrecognizable, smashed, bloodied, broken, his hands grasping the floors as if to show his intent to escape, his black tufts of hair the only defining feature left. Joe fell to her knees, her hands covering her face as her sobs erupted from her chest. She couldn’t believe this was happening again. The scene from her nightmares, except this time she was certain she was awake.
As Joe sobbed helplessly, unable to grasp her reality, she was all too unaware of the figure that loomed behind her. Carefully and quietly trying to move along the wall as not to arouse her attention. Another crack of lightening jolted Joe’s attention away from her palms just momentarily, causing her to catch the shadow on the floor from the figure behind her. Once again her heart was pounding as she spun around, expecting to catch the person who did this.
She let out another scream, as the figure ceased to move forwards, instead now leaping into the air, seemingly startled by being discovered. “I know what you did, you monster” Joe yelled, with abandon. “Please, stop. I’m a detective” the figure emerged from the shadows, suddenly. He looked exhausted and weary, but chiseled, like the lead in an old black and white movie. His long tan rain coat and hat completed the retro detective movie vibe, and his handsome smile spread across his rosy lips the second he stepped into the illuminated window light and spotted Joe. Really spotted her. She couldn’t help but shiver once again as their eyes locked.
Running
I am constantly running from endings
the gripping fear that things will change
the fear that they won’t.
Sometimes the moment feels so comfortable
I just want to sit and bathe in the solace
How do I slow down time
her liquid curves sometimes like honey,
other times like water
and I am but awash in her current
grasping at sticks stuck in the sides
“let me stay here” I cry
wasted breath, I know.
Gone Fishin’
The early morning sun danced on my skin as I took in the serene stage nature had created for me.
Earlier this year, when winter still lingered and I had first moved to town, I passed the time by exploring the local parks and rivers near by, scoping out the perfect spot to sunbathe once the slightest hint of summer was in the air. Finally that day came, I had waited patiently, through the dark depths of winter and into the hopeful, colourful, spring rejuvenation, I couldn’t wait for that moment when I’d ride my bike over to my secret hideaway.
It was tucked away, off a foot-beaten path, through a field of wildflowers, down a slight embankment and through a few overgrown ferns, the other side of paradise. A lush bed of grass beside a gently flowing river, opening out onto a larger pond, but sufficiently private with all its sturdy old trees and generous vegetation. Every so often a family of ducks would float by, or a fluffy critter would scuffle through the under-brush, but the spot was otherwise secluded. The ideal tanning spot, I could strip down and meld into nature, nothing between me and the sun but the sunscreen coating my skin. Sure, I could tan in one of my many bathing suits any time, but something about being in my most natural form, out there in nature herself, just made me feel a new kind of whole. So I spent my winters scouring out the ideal spot for when the weather enchanted me out again.
On this lazy Sunday, I had woken up extra early, intent on getting to my destination as soon as possible, eager to lap up every last available ray of sunshine that the day could muster. I had worn my favourite white cotton t-shirt dress, easy to slip on and off in a hurry, and a cute white thong, of course with socks and sneakers. I loaded up my bag with a big beach towel, some water, snacks, extra sunscreen and a couple joints, hopped on my bike and raced over to my spot. When I got there I quickly kicked off my shoes, peeled off my socks, threw my dress off over my head and lastly, stripped off my little white thong. I laid down my beach towel and plopped down on my stomach, arms folded and tucked under my head while I turned my gaze to the gently flowing water.
Mesmerized by nature, I had almost begin to drift off, my eyelids becoming heavy, when all of a sudden I heard the unmistakable putter of a boat engine. My heart started pounding and my blood started racing, yet I didn’t move from my position. I was curious as to whether whoever was out there would stumble across me in my most vulnerable state, or if they’d simply pass me by, unaware of the spectacle they were missing. I saw the bow of a little cruiser start to peak out from the pond, glistening white in the sunlight. My breath caught in my chest. I couldn’t look away, frozen. Next thing I saw was a tiny metal object, seemingly flung into the water by an invisible thread, attached to the tip of a long rod. I hadn’t yet seen the person responsible for casting the rod, but I couldn’t help but hold and appease my burning curiosity.
Suddenly the languid flow of water seemed unnaturally slow, who was this mystery person, interrupting my solitude? In the next instant, his face drifted into view, the sunlight hitting him head on, bathing him in a glow of early morning splendour. He sat, shirtless, his chest already crisp from many mornings like this, alone on the water, the shadows from his tan making his already defined muscles pop. After thoroughly reviewing his body, I let my eyes drift upwards towards his face. His eyes were closed, basking in the peaceful morning, his tousled brown locks falling haphazardly, clearly having gone unbrushed, and a contented smile played on his succulent lips. I couldn’t help but feel myself growing aroused, the blood flowing towards my clitoris, as I felt myself getting wetter. The thought of such an attractive stranger being so close to discovering me was almost more than I could handle.
As I was gazing upon him, his eyes fluttered open, fixing directly on mine. I blushed deep pink instantly. Frozen in a mixture of fear and attraction, I couldn’t do anything but stand by in abject horror as a smirk crossed my lips, and I took in this complete stranger, drinking in my naked form. Our eyes stayed locked and he directed the front of his boat towards the shore right in front of me, arriving closer by the second, seemingly making a direct course for me.
He slowed down as he approached me, his rod long since discarded on the seat beside him, he had his eyes on a better prize. He pulled the boat next to the shore, gently jutting onto the sand and tying off on a nearby rock. He strode confidently over to the head of my towel, his swim shorts clearly showing the signs of his arousal. I stayed unmoving until his feet were in front of my face, only then did I lift my gaze, my chin pointing towards his obvious erection. He smirked back at me, my insides melted – I was in trouble. “What’re you doing out here alone, Missy?” he drawled. “Trying to get a tan, obviously” I replied, trying to hide the quiver in my voice. “Well I don’t mean to interrupt, but when I see something I want, I have to go and get it.” A shiver ran down my spine. “I….I don’t even know your name” I sputtered. “Tucker” he said, a smile spreading across his face “and yours, beautiful?” “It’s Ariella” I lied. “Well now that we’re acquainted, why don’t we have a little fun?”. I nodded my head silently.
Tucker took out his hard cock, slowly, inch by inch it seemed. I could feel my mouth getting wetter as I anticipated the taste of his salty member sliding in. Finally it sprung free from his shorts and it was well worth the wait. His rock hard organ had to be at least 7 inches, and the perfect width, glistening in the early morning sun, practically begging to be sucked. I quickly took my tongue to the tip of his cock, making sure to get the whole thing wet, starting from the top and working my way down, coating him in my saliva before coming back up and wrapping my lips around him, my tongue still flicking around the tip as I moved my head up and down his shaft, my hands caressing his balls and stroking his base respectively. Meanwhile, Tucker’s hands had found the sides of my head, strongly gripping my hair as he helped me glide my mouth up and down his throbbing hard dick. I continued to work him up and down, making sure to keep my mouth wet, letting all the juices flow out onto his cock, rubbing it furiously as my mouth continued to suction him in. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this” he moaned, sending little zaps of pleasure through my body.
“Enough” he barked commandingly, pulling me up from my knees so that I was face to face. “You’re so fucking hot” he said, before pulling me into him and kissing me deeply. I felt as though the wind had been completely knocked out of me, my knees close to buckling, my throat in my stomach, unable to do anything but kiss him back as my hands explored his strong body. He held me with one hand around my waist, the other at the nape of my neck, stopping to kiss my lips only to move down my jawline, past my ear down my neck and onto my collarbone, all the while I whimpered with desire. “Tell me what you want” he whispered gruffly in my ear. “I want…..I want you” I said meekly. “Come on, you can do better than that” he teased menacingly, while one hand trailed down my stomach towards my soaking wet pussy. His fingers found my folds and he gently played with me, stroking me just right ensuring I was ready to erupt. “Tell.me.what.you.want” he said commandingly. “I want you, I want you to fuck me with your hard cock, please” I sighed into his mouth as he continued moving his fingers adeptly around my clit. “Lie down” he commanded. I complied instantly.
Tucker kneeled between my legs, teasing my hot slit with his pulsating member. He rubbed my juices around, making sure to get my clit, stoking my arousal even further, before plunging his tip into my eager opening. I couldn’t help as a moan escaped my lips. “You like that baby? That’s just the start” he grinned as he continued thrusting his hard rod into my quivering hole. He sped up, pushing more and more of himself into me until his hips had met mine and he began thrusting in and out of me, slowly at first, gradually picking up pace. His weight pushing against me and his generous cock ramming in and out of me was more than I could handle, the friction was building and I could feel my mind slipping away from me, completely over taken by the animal attraction I was feeling. Lost in the moment completely, he brought me back, with a hand gently smacking my face “hey, do you make a habit of regularly fucking strangers” “no, only you” I said breathlessly. “Good” he almost whispered, once again sending shivers down my spine. “Now I want you to be a good girl and come for me” he commanded. “I wanna come for you” I mewled. He sped up, pushing in and out of me while his thumb adeptly stroked my clit, all the while, I could feel my body tingling, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, working it’s way up and down my body until they met in the middle and waves of pleasure took over my body. “Fuckkkkkk Tucker, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop.” I cried, as he continued to drive into me. I came around his dick, my pussy pulsating on his member, attempting to coax the cum out of him and into my waiting cunt. “Tell me where you want me to cum” he demanded. “I want to taste you” I said without hesitation. He pulled out of me and I crawled over to him, once again taking him in my mouth and enveloping his cock with my velvety opening. I sucked him until he erupted into my mouth, thick streams of cum coating my throat. “What do you say??” he asked. “Thanks Daddy” I sputtered. “Same time next week.” It wasn’t a question, he had uttered, as he pulled his swim trunks back up, pulling me in for one last passionate kiss.
I knew where I’d be next Sunday.
grief spins
I never thought I’d be sitting here wishing for a conversation with a ghost
imagining the ways in which my mind might convince me it’s a trick
pleading with life to let me have just one more moment
I know you can’t come back, I’m not so naive
but surely you could reach out from beyond the veil
wherever you are.
You’ll never envision the ways grief will fuck with your brain
and it will every time, no escape
you could be the most well prepared…..a joke because whose really prepared for loss?
Toiling away the time, finding new ways to bring you back if only in my memory
all my poems sound the same because they’re all about you
always about you.
Spring Symphony
Ah! what soft heart does spring make of me
how joy and wonder come back the second the temperature tips above ten degrees
the way I could spend hours spinning around the grass
whispering wishes to bees that drink from dandelions
a reminder that nature is in harmony, that she wastes not
and here I am amidst it all
sparkling in the amber glow of a sun that you can feel again
my cold winter heart melting, slowly but surely, into a summer fire
it’s amazing what a little beauty does for the soul
nature revives and so do I.
Thoughts on Energy
Sitting here, surrounded by grey gloomy skies, threatening to spill over at any moment. The house is cool, I should be studying, and yet here I am, reflecting, reflecting, reflecting. Lost in my subconscious, ever self-important. So let me share where I’ve ended up, because it’s on the tip of my brain and if I don’t get it out I think it might just float back into unconsciousness. I’ve seen discourse online lately, I’m sure you have too, “divine feminine” “leading with your masculine energy” this bogus concept, or dichotomy, borne out of traditional, faith based practices, repurposed as shiny new-aged advanced thinking. What makes an action or an attitude feminine? What makes a feeling masculine? Why do we assign these false dichotomies to everything, is it simply an easier way to process thought, neatly packaged next to concepts we already understand? I tried to break down these concepts further, what is femininity, what is masculinity? But why are we assigning qualities like “nurturing” or “driven” to false gender dichotomies, when in our modern society we are now able to view gender as a spectrum, why wouldn’t energy too exist on a spectrum? Being at harmony and having equilibrium within the self has less to do with gender, and gendered energy and more about balance, between emotion and stoicism, between ego and heart, between creativity and analytics, and so on and so forth. By gendering energy and qualities we simply give people excuses to live out of balance and continue to perpetuate harmful stereotypes that do nothing to serve us.