Ditties by Deviva
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Poems becoming Songs & Songs broken into poetry
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His soul was a joyto unfoldhis smilea treasure of happinessand hopehis eyes both innocentand wiseknowing and kindhis desire gave me wingsto fly above grave realities…if only for a little whilewe shared the sameloving smile…if only for a little whileI felt deeply againlike a child

His soul was a joy
to unfold

his smile
a treasure of happiness
and hope

his eyes both innocent
and wise
knowing and kind

his desire gave me wings
to fly above grave
realities

…if only for a little while
we shared the same
loving smile

…if only for a little while
I felt deeply again
like a child

Worn Canvas

image

I am as much a blank slate
as the day I was born
except that my life canvas
is weathered
and worn

The sun still shines
even if the clouds are grey
and I am unsure what kind
of portrait I will make

Living in uncertainty
is my new reality
or perhaps it was always so
covered by my need
for self control

Sometimes keeping things together means letting go…

:(

…and we kissed

we kissed
until
my lips were
broken and swollen

until my mouth
became
parched by passion

Once More

Breathe Jen
just breathe
words will flow again
soul will brim once more

desire will once again
lap at your shores
breath will quicken
nerves will tense

with anticipation
and not pretense
pure emotion without blackened scars
will rivet you once more

on blackened foam
pushed forward on clear waves
you will rise
and open your eyes
to new strangely colored skies

He lingers


Crazy fluorescent emotions
glazed eyes and beating hearts

After midnight confusion
inhibitions that depart

Red rimmed eyes
feign away from dawn

yet he lingers
yet he lingers on…

Making Pretend


Yellow and green
dance in between
lazy eyelids
and self confident smiles

Accents play
and emotions stray
over drinks
and lakeside breezes

Intentions flit
back and forth
reading in between the lines
for what its worth

Is it neither the beginning
nor is it the end
It’s that lovely hour
when we make pretend…

For a woman there is nothing more erotic than being understood.
— Molly Haskell
Blue Light

blue light falls
on your shoulders
water beads on your back
shadows play along
the curve of your lips

the night lulls us
with forgiving darkness
covering our secrets
insulating our desires

Broken Vow

Your fingers once full
Of conversation

Your lips now pause
With hesitation

The flower has wilted
So slightly now

The perfume wanes
Upon a broken vow

Crying…

Again…

….at midnight

Moments of You

I can’t get over
The void you left
A gaping hole
That has sucked
All the joy and color
Of my life away

With you the world
Was encrusted with
Anticipation
Discovery
And my willing
Surrender
Of secret intimacies

Now life tastes
Like a bland plate
Of force fed food

I’ll take the pain, the guilt, the betrayal
For a few more moments
…of you

Waking Nymphs

The parts of my mind
I thought
so long asleep

are waking up
like a dozen nymphs
fallen by a long ago spell

covered by seasons of leaves
that crackle with small sighs
as they hesitantly arise

Why should I cry for you?
Because your pain is transforming me
into something…someone new


I don’t know the color
or pattern of the wings
that are now forming


I just know
that I will fly…fly…fly
higher than before


Why should I cry for you?

Because your pain is transforming me

into something…someone new

I don’t know the color

or pattern of the wings

that are now forming

I just know

that I will fly…fly…fly

higher than before

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