Monthly Archives: October 2015

Pull and Repulse

We start off paddling in shallows,
uncertain of what is under our feet, but
bemoaning the lack of depth.

Then the sand ends in sadness, a void,
head under water, cursing
never learning to swim.

Somehow saved, we sit on the beach
drawn to death, mesmerised by the
pull and repulse of the waves.

Slowly we learn, study, copy
back-stroke, breast-stroke, or
just using our hands to stay afloat.

People pair off, swim strongly away,
suddenly gone, yet their strange happy
yelps echo over the horizon.

The laughter out there sometimes
bursts like fireworks, and sometimes it
fades faster than a tropical sun.

Some come back singly, shake their
wet hair, seek another swimmer
unbothered by the slow fat drips.

Others stalk up the beach to
hide in the trees, their run-off
making metaphors in the mud.

Emerging, chastened or just bored, the
lone ones see other singletons
silhouetted against a purpling sky.

Some have dry hair, some wet, all
wondering if its worth so much swimming,
pulled and repulsed by the waves.

Lotte Eisner–In Memoriam

You always felt like a chrysalis

in that airless Neuilly apartment, just

bursting to escape from

stricken old age back into the

glamour of Golden Age movies, the

gut-gripping fear of being a

Jewess in Occupied France, the

barely-believed freedom to write,

re-strike friendships with

those who survived, make

new friends amongst the young, like

Werner walking from Munich, like

me, gawping like a goldfish, being

vouchsafed so many confidences,

so much history.

Summoned Sunset

I had anticipated it all day, but the

clouds had their own agenda, as the

air pressure rose and fell and

folded into isobars, drilling them from

drifts into dull regiments

drawn up on the western horizon, so my

summoned sunset never came.

Mi Casa etc.

It’s that season when insects

prefer our house to theirs,

like the crane fly with his

disco-boy dance across the ceiling, the

moths drawn and repelled by

lights too hot to touch, too

sterile to mate with, and

especially the spiders seeking

refuge from web-wrecking winds

with their burden of babies,

exchanging one war-zone for

another full of sudden soles and

rolled-up newspapers.

Temperature's Rising

Sexy Times ~ Warm Feelings ~ Hot Flashes ~ All That

MULTIGLOM

The Anne Billson blog

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Married Submissive, Exploring the kinky side of life.

Life of a Kinky Wife

Marriage with a Twist

The Weaver of Words

"Poetry is what happens when your mind stops working, and for a moment all you do is feel." -Atticus

Works of an Unsettled Mind

Stories, Poems and Titillating Epitaphs

Upashna

In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.

My Liver's Trying to Kill Me!... Oh Wait.

A Journey to a Healthier Me.

Undressed Thoughts

layers of my onion head

The Wild Heart of Life

"He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life." ...James Joyce

Veronica Love-Wylde

Erotic Poet and Artist - Welcome to My Sensual World

my controlled ascent

living and loving as a married submissive in my D/s marriage

Filimages

A quoi servent les images que l'on ne montre pas ?

BlogUnseen

Written Thoughts, Spoken through verse...

Jupiter's Lair

Because a dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste...

A Quest for the Uncliche

Dream. Explore. Learn. Repeat.. Let's traverse on the paths less taken and explore whole new worlds