The 365th RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Wed 11/15/06)

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Wed Nov-15-06 08:59 AM
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The 365th RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Wed 11/15/06)

One year ago today I began posting these Poetry Threads in an attempt to inject some beauty into my life and world, and possibly yours too.

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_topic&forum=105&topic_id=4302953

One year ago my life was ugly and painful and sad and overwhelming and for the first time in a long time, I was not sure things were worth it or would ever get better. I didn't see the point. Well, now a year later, they are certainly different. Somewhat better, but certainly never boring. Actually, they are much better.

And this daily thread has given me reason to get out of bed in the morning, and has led to many DU friendships, some very special friendships indeed. These threads woke up something inside of me and led to my starting to write again. These threads showed me that creativity and beauty takes many forms, and inspired me to take the leap into beginning my own business. These threads helped show me what is really important in life, that what is precious and life-affirming trumps any sadness, but that the sadness needs to be recognized, owned, honored, and then let go of.

So I want to take a moment to thank DU and the Lounge for allowing me a forum for my pathetic depressive ravings, my joyful revelations, my self-pity, my spiritual growth, my laughter, my tears, my smiles, and my inane silliness. So to all you Lounge Lizards: I love you... :hug:

No Words

----for Jen

She awoke at 3am to the pinging of rain against the windows
and strobes of lightning illuminating the rented hotel suite.
Her hand stretched out across the queen-size bed, reaching

for him in the dark, feeling the familiar contour of his chest,
the heat from his naked body radiating and enveloping her.
She rolled over slowly and straddled his waist, her nightgown

twisting around her hips constricting purposeful movements,
a black silk tourniquet squeezing her as tightly as the desire
that constantly wanted to bind all aspects of her life to his.

Pulling the garment over her head, she reached across him,
dragging the fabric along his bare skin, across his nipples,
leaning over so her small breasts brushed against his lips.

Slowly, wanting to savor and stretch out the time knowing
that this would be the final act they shared before he left,
she ran her fingers over his skin. This would have to last.

And then she felt his body stirring beneath her, not yet
free of his impenetrable dreams, and then she was kissing him
awake, his long fine eyelashes beginning to twitch and open.

The pounding rain outside brought the memory of their first kiss,
dancing together in the empty street during a thunderstorm
just outside of Pittsburgh, after he flew in to surprise her,

renting a room for the weekend, spending two days together
but her returning home at night, like a curfewed teen, not wanting
to arouse suspicion. Yet she had hungered for their first night together,

that first view of his naked body, his cock which she had only
seen in her mind, the feel of his arms around her, her resolve
to give herself up to him, freely, completely and without condition.

Two months later she drove to Milwaukee, an 8 hour and 56
minute road trip, alone with her thoughts, her needs, her fears,
the radio playing the soundtrack of 60 nights of missing him.

And within minutes of her arrival, the Wisconsin rain began to fall,
and like a shy bride, he led her by the arm down the hallway to his
bedroom as the thunder shook the windows. They paused next

to his futon, and as he leaned in and kissed her, his lips shot bolts
of yearning throughout her body, and then they were naked
and she was on top of him, her heart impaled, split open, knowing

her life in Pittsburgh was now but a memory that she would soon forget,
but this moment with him was one that she never would, like a tattoo
on the insides of her eyelids, she would close them and see his face

whenever she needed to. But now they were saying goodbye without
needing words, their bodies craving what they were about to give
up, walk away from, settling for their former lives in different cities.

So she stared hard into his hazel eyes, trying to imprint her image
permanently onto his retinas too, sighing as she slowly slid him inside,
her eyes never leaving his, her body never flinching, never faltering

from the rhythm and as the tears drizzled down her face and dropped
silently onto his chest, her body trembled with involuntary release,
followed by his as he reached out and brushed back her long dark hair.

Paul Scot August

***************

RL

If you have a request for a certain Poet, post their name in the thread and I will find a poem by them and post it...

if you want to see some of my poetry, see the blog at:
http://www.myspace.com/retropaul