spilledwoords
“Poetry burns in our hearts with the passionate heat of a lover’s embrace.”
Tag: family-relationships
Don’t Urge Me
“Entreat me not to leave you,Or to turn back from following after you;For wherever you go, I will go;And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;Your people shall be my people,And your God, my God.Where you die, I will die,And there will I be buried.The… Continue Reading “Don’t Urge Me”
Another Adam
Glancing at the man lying next to me,nestling into his neck as I run my fingers down his absstopping just short of the large bulge in his pants,straddling his muscular body, kissing his perfect lips. My companion is so handsome – too good to… Continue Reading “Another Adam”
Recent Posts: spilledwoords
Weapon
The will to power destroys the power to will.The weapon made, we cannot help but use it;it drags us with its own momentum still. The power to kill compounds the need to kill.Grown out of hand, the heart cannot refuse it;the will to power undoes the power to will. Though as we strike we cry […]
Silent, but ….
I MAY be silent, butI’m thinking.I may not talk, butDon’t mistake me for a wall. Copyright © Tsuboi Shigeji | Translated by Geoffrey Bownan and Anothony Thwaite | 1964
Olokun
I love to pass my fingers(As tide thro’ weeds of the seaAnd wind the tall fern-fronds)Thro’ the strands of your hairDark as night that screens the naked moon: I am jealous and passionateLike Jehovah, God of the Jews,And I would that you realiseNo greater love had womanFrom man than the one I have for you! […]
Don’t Urge Me
“Entreat me not to leave you,Or to turn back from following after you;For wherever you go, I will go;And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;Your people shall be my people,And your God, my God.Where you die, I will die,And there will I be buried.The LORD do so to me, and more also,If anything but death […]
Wait Not
Wait not, fond lovershe’d not give a waiverwho took your placefind yourself another,let your memories bank not on me;your fantasies are free to roam. Wait not, fond lovershe – I dwell now inher river like a fish;she’s a taunting schemerthat wouldn’t unshackleor make me free. Desire me less in the nightturn the page, don’t writeanother […]
