Just Chillin
I think of us, as we in comfort in a space of unity and love. I imagine you sitting in a black leather armchair, with you feet up relaxing after a day at work in which you come home to me in a peaceful mood. You tell me about your day and I listen with a contented smile on my face. You are laughing because you are happy and at peace with yourself and the world. You smell your dinner and know that you will be satisfied.
I walk over to you , just because you make my heart overflow with love for you, your smile captivating and seeing your joy like a protective shield surrounding you. I lean over you to kiss you and you hold my head on your lips, your tongue playing tag with mine as you memorise and mesmerise me. I translate that kiss into the words ‘I love you’. You respond in kind. You pull me down to sit on your knee as you cradle me against you. Wrapping your arms around me in a soothing embrace. I just sit with you, in you on you. Breathing in your musk as I push my nose into your neck and meditate on the joy I receive from being with you. In the silence I can hear your heart beat. The tempo of African drums in a distance. Again we are one.
In you I find the peace that shields me from the harshness of the world. I am lost in your presence as if nothing exists except the harmony we make. I am creative, I can dance as if we are the only two people in the world and you are the voyeur of my inner thoughts as the spirit takes me on a methodic journey of stretching and coiling skipping and jumping, fast, voracious and then slow and erotic. My rhythm building as I seduce with dance. My heart feasting on the movement and my desire. Your eyes tell me you are with me every step, twist and turn. I watch what you watch and feel the need in you. Enticing you more and feed your desire.
I slow down as I move towards you my stealth like a cat on heat, I move to you, where you lay and I flow into you. Your hands move up my body like it is searching to slow my heartbeat. On my heart you stop and look into my eyes and see my consent. Your lips move to mine in a motion so swift. You take your time to explore me as if it were your first time…
As I bask in the warm glow of loving, the feeling of happiness spreads throughout me like a dip in a freezing cold bath, the sensation welcome from the heat.
Comments
mood and story
Um, was about to write something about the need for friction (or conflict) in stories, then find another commentator has simply worked the piece up as a poem instead, and done a damn fine job of messin widcha words! Its all your words, simply filtered. So I will rest my keyboard. Maybe to do a story Mel you might want to start with major conflict - big shouting match ./ trauma and work slowly by stage backwards to the time before when everything was hunky-dory? That way you will never omit conflict from a story cos it will be there at the beginning? -pete
your prose v poetry
been thinking about why your poems generally travel a greater distance than your prose. realised in your prose you have a tendency to list, in fact almost checklist:
I lean over you to kiss you (check) and you hold my head on your lips (check), your tongue playing tag with mine (check) as you memorise and mesmerise me (check).
tie a knot in a handkerchief and be done with it.
its like you lose confidence the more words you have. strip them away, be a bit selective, and you have a melanie poem:
I imagine you sitting in a black leather armchair
laughing because you are at peace with yourself
I lean over you to kiss, you memorise and mesmerise
translate that kiss into words
the peace that shields me from the harshness of the world
the voyeur of my inner thoughts
I watch what you watch, enticing you on my heart
you stop, look into my eyes, see consent
what do you want to say with your prose that you're not saying with your poetry? or as dr strangeglove said, the whole point of the doomsday machine is lost if you keep it a secret