Circadian ~ Acrostic XII

Poetry challenge: Acrostic poem

 
 

Maidenhair Fern

M orning sunlight is the visual canvas

Visage

That face…

Oh! That beautiful face…

I am dry of mouth, fevered of skin, wet with desire

The Perfect Man ~ Musette poem

Poetry challenge: Mussette poem

What’s this?
Lovely surprise
A gift

Sparks

Filaments of fire ziplining through a mind unsettled and a body restless
Melancholy, bittersweet, this flame between us caught and cradled

Replenish ~ Acrostic VI

Restore in me what I’m craving

Echoes and dreams don’t satisfy

Paths diverging and converging

Let Me Be

In the morning’s light I come to you
Sitting by your side and reaching

Enigma ~ Acrostic VI

Ever am I enticed by your advance and retreat

New again, this old dance of ours so sweet

Intrigued that your heart is now to me returned

Guarding my own against that for which I’ve yearned

Me, entranced and on my knees

And you, the riddle inside a mystery

~ kei
31 May 2015
©Karin Bole Tupper – The Eclectic Poet

Definition of Acrostic form sourced from: Shadow Poetry:
“Acrostic Poetry is where the first letter of each line spells a word, usually using the same words as in the title.”

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Absent

It’s the mornings when I miss you most…

Where on tousled sheets your scent lingers

Contused And Conflicted

I’m black and blue all over
Feels like four rounds with Ali
But the bruises are invisible
Because my opponent is me

Flower Child Haiku VIII

 A scent too fleeting
Sweet memories of springs past
Captured in fragrance

~ kei, The Eclectic Poet
17 May 2015

Every spring captured and ever to be savoured… ©Karin Bole Tupper

 

Embody All

One with the elements
That is the goal
Body, mind
Spirit and soul

Burning, I whisper and cry out your name
Enticed by the false St. Elmo’s flame

From The Diary Of A Lady ~ Two

(and I swear I won’t do this again – I don’t want to risk a moratorium for blatant retina-rodgering 🙂 )

~ Excerpt 5 May xxxx

This is the private journal of Lady Karin Elizabeth Tupper Bole-ington the Third by Proxy.

At last Dear Diary, I have recovered from the festivities. 

From The Diary Of A Lady

~ Exerpt 2 May xxxx

This is the private journal of Lady Karin Elizabeth Tupper Bole-ington the Third by Proxy.

Untitled III

black words, white paper
black shadow, white snow

The Walls

The lover in me
Has faded
The lover in me
Is nowhere to be found
She is bound

Reflections

i can always fix the things

you carelessly drop

Big Pond

One fish, two fish
Me fish, you fish

Plenty of fishes
Wishbone wishes

That Season

He touched in her that place of innocence, the core of her being that was forever hopeful, a source of immutable joy.

Burn Baby Burn

How many degrees to burn you out of the heart of me?

Seven Hundred sixty degrees? Nine hundred eighty?

The Preface

I paused for a moment, watching the haze of condensation on the outside of my wine glass.

“Yes. It’s true that I made some bad decisions and telling myself that they were made with best of intentions… well, we can talk about that crap later. Bottom line is, I never pretended to be someone’s friend and then moved in on their husband the second that the wife was out of the picture.”

Nameless

I took down the photographs of you that stood on the Moroccan inlay accent table at my elbow. I replaced them with jewel-tone vases and miniature orchids, a tiny version of the ones in your greenhouse. Your scarf is gone too. I want to remember winters that are more like the ones you know, the ones that I always teased you about. More like Muncie and less like Muncey. I gave it to a homeless man who had long hair and a beard and looked not in the least like you but made my heart leap nonetheless.

The End?

It’s as hard for me to be alive as it is for you to be dead

This pendant contains your picture on one side, a lock of hair on the other

Desperately do I cling to the you that I knew

A disbelieving heart that will not accept

Sentences can be commuted, can they not?

Tasting Tears

She cries in the rain and stares until she’s blinded at fiery sunsets

She drinks from the ocean

And then writes his name in the sand

She crashes into the pain this brings like the waves on the shore

She’s been scuttling about, trying to gather the pieces of her life

Strewn upon the floor, just like the mirror she shattered because he always said she was beautiful and she couldn’t find beautiful in the mirror

Her hands are cut and bleeding; pulling back the fragments, desperately trying to make them stick

In Spirit

Ghost Writer scribbles

Our stories live on

Conjured by a medium’s keystroke

We are spilled ink apparitions

Seasons Haikus VI

Does my heart yet stir
The Green Man is drawing near
Kiss me back to life

Karin ~ The Eclectic Poet on WordPress

~ kei

21 December 2014

Will You Never Come Again

We were once upon a backseat
I try to write us and I can’t
The words scorch the screen
And how I envy that girl in your arms
The green-eyed one who stole your virginity
And tied her red ribbon round your neck
To mark you, make you hers
She walks our old haunts and wonders
How it has come to be that such fire
That once consumed the world and us with it

Whispers II

Can you hear me?

Say my name just one more time
Say it in your Bourbon and Marlboro accent
You loved when I first described it that way
I just loved how I could feel your voice
Words like sweetgrass inhaled and tickling my senses

Colours ~ Ruby

Ruby…

Leaves dancing when we walk by
Scarf thrown casually over your shoulder
Roses blooming upon my cheeks
As your touch and kisses grow bolder
Streaks against the October evening sky
Lips pressed to the palm of your hand
His will I cannot, will not deny