All posts tagged: romance

Midnight -A Choka

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  Sweat sitting sticky in a shallow pool rippling. With each breath inhaled the hollow between her breasts fills deeper again. That hidden tremor running from calf to rib-cage, echoed with a groan that rumbles through to marrow deep and guttural. Knees converted into hooks, grappling for contact drawing deeper into sheets they hold, lock, engage. Nails drawing across a scalp and hair thick between fingers something for purchase. lips, tongue and teeth, clash, curl, bite, praises, curses, moaned. gasping for air or for words, muscles arching back drawn to breaking point, to snap.   Sweat sitting sticky, that hollow between her breasts kisses press lazily up. Thursday night over at the DVerse Poets Pub is form night, and tonight we’ve been challenged to write a Choka which is a Japanese style of poem. It words on an alternating 5-7 syllable count with an extra 7 syllable line at the end. I decided to combine the Choka form with today’s Daily Prompt: Temptation.  

The Benefits Of Technical Issues

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Our roads did not lead to each other, they just sort of intersected, over and over again until I got sick of making excuses for all the detours and worked up the courage to ask you out.   There was no saving me, no white horses, or armour, or dark monsters emerging from the shadows. There was a computer shop and a boy, and a girl, and a lot of ‘technical issues’.   Written In Response to PoetryLover’s Poem: New Beginnings

Pieces Of Me

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You found me tacked to a wall, half a shadow pretending to smile, still tearing chunks off myself for someone else’s benefit. Everything I was, I wanted shivering, wasted, pushed back for other’s things. You were the first to ask for nothing. You did not need a shoulder, a listener, or scaffolding for your spine. You were solid and generous. I learnt that I could unpin myself, trust you to catch the pieces as they fell, be a little more selfish and focus on the storm clouds I realised I’d been lost in. You showed me love unconditional. A quick write for the daily post prompt: Generous It sort of follows on from my poem Pieces Of You.

Love

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For the twenty-three year old with the widow’s peak, and freshly shaved cheeks, currently on the other side of the crack between office door and door jam, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. These are the moment when I am the most in love with you. That silly, childish quirkiness that tickles the grump out of my limbs and forces me to chuckle into folded arms, head down against the desk, aware that I should be writing but in all reality, I’m struggling to do so much as turn away from you. I flirted shamelessly for three years, until timings and courage were aligned enough that we ended up somewhere other than the shop you worked in and I, carrying something other than a so-called broken laptop, was trying to make sure that you realised that it was defiantly a date before somehow loosing my footing and almost falling straight on my arse. We’ve always found it easy to laugh. I come home to you, not the house or the things …

Broken Laptops, Shameless Flirting And Oblivious Men

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Have I ever told you guys how I met my fiancée? I feel like I probably have but I’m going to tell you again for the sake of this week’s discovery prompt. I actually met my fiancée before I even went to university. My laptop had broken and needed fixing so my mum and I took it to a computer shop in the local town. Now a little background on my mother’s curse when it comes to computer shops. We got to one, six months later they close. At first we thought it was a coincidence, the second time it happened it was third, by the third time we just started blaming mum all together. [A recession and the economic viability of rent prices and income prospects of our local town might have also had something to do with it.] Back to the story. Fiancée’s shop was number three and yes, my mother’s curse would come to strike but not for a few years. We went in, cute boy behind the counter took my laptop, …

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven

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Solitude From pier-point we walked to the mountain slopes where the slate fell in slag-pile avalanches and the yellow grasses rippled against the breeze. Your battered trainers barely survived the trip, so you carried them in one hand until the kissing gate, and left them hanging by their fraying laces. With your footsteps just behind mine we scrambled for purchase, chasing thoughts like stray insects up the pitted pathways we’d walked more times than memory. One by one they dropped away, pebbles tossed and bouncing, pinging out of sight and hearing until there wasn’t any further to climb. Below there would be small slate rooftops and white wash houses with chocolate box roses around whorled glass windows, framing shuffling figures pottering from one day to the next. Winded, panting, face shining and nose pink tipped you took my cheeks between your palms and pulled it close. ‘Just be here with me,’ you asked and for those moments I was. Together in the solitude of our mountain, barefoot and tired and palms stinging from falls and sharp stone. …

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Six

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Spin Me To The Stars and Back Take me out dancing, your hands into mine, spin, spin, spin me to the stars and back. Take me to dinner, your smile against mine, spin, spin, spin me to the stars and back. Take me the the river edge, your lips against mine, spin, spin, spin me to the stars and back. Take me to the end of the world, just you and I, spin, spin, spin me to the stars and back. Day Twenty-Six called for a call to arms poem. Not sure if this meets the exact prompt but since I have two more poems to write before I’m all caught up it will have to do.

Out Of Sight

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‘You worked things out then?’ she asked, stretched out long and lithe on the blanket beside me. I plucked at the dead leaves beside us. Focusing on their half broken frames. Better them than her. She took another drag and raised an eyebrow. ‘Well?’ ‘Tomorrow,’ I promised, just like I had the last time we were here, naked and damp with the dusk closing in around the empty windows. Teenagers had tagged the insides of the building until all you could see were curses and slanted signatures scrawled across the concrete. I don’t have to look to know she’s frowning.

Morning

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I still see you in that morning shimmer, low across the fields, tangled in the coils of mist rising slowly off the brook.   I watch until the sun burns it away and remember again, your fingertips on my skin still damp from dawn dew. My first time back at dVerse poets for a few weeks. For those of you doing NaPoWriMo, Get yourselves to the bar at once! There are few better places to settle down and share your poetry that at the Poets Pub.

Confessions Of A Bookworm March 2016

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I know, I know, I know. This post was meant to go up on Wednesday and now it’s Saturday instead. I also managed to miss February all together so this post will include some of the books that I read over that month as well. What Am I Reading So there are a couple of books that have been lurking around on the ‘Currently Reading’ list for a while. As a compulsive book hopper I tend to put a book down for a few weeks and then return to it later if it hasn’t completely got my attention or if a new book turns up that I’m desperate to read. So for the purpose of this post I’ll focus on the newbies on the list. ‘Glass Sword’ and ‘After You’ are both sequels and both books have only just turned up on this list. I’m most of the way through ‘After You’ already as I really love Jojo Moyes’ writing style. It’s a very easy read despite tackling tough topics. I fell in love with …