@Surinaamer
@PurpleMingary1
Most embarrassing moment: Train, Munich, Germany, 1967-8, American couple loudly complaining that nobody spoke English. Didn't know whether to slap them or hide.
@RealLyndaCarter
I am a "disabled" veteran, and retired army sergeant, with multiple injuries and health issues. Most of the time, I soldier on, as they say, head up, shoulders back, etc. I don't LOOK disabled, but sometimes just getting from car to store us a test of will... and training.
Richard's name is on the wall,
Vietnam memorial.
Forever young, frozen
In appearance and memory.
Laughing, always laughing,
Marine killed by grenade,
Too young,
Too young,
Why does the laughter,
Have to end that way?
Photo: Richard Groover d. 1966, 23 years old
If I were rain,
I would bathe you,
Many rivulets of love,
Tickling, teasing all over.
If I were sun,
I would warm you,
Wrap you in lover's embrace,
As you reach hands out in pleasure.
If I were moon,
I would paint you,
Naked with silver lines,
Valleys and hills and peaks aglow.
If you have not lived my life,
Walked the roads I've walked,
Seen what I have seen,
Done what I have done,
Felt my pains,
My pleasures,
And ridden my whirlwinds,
And slept by my fire,
How can you know who I am,
Was,
Or will be?
#donovanbaldwin
#poem
Was that you?
That wisp of feeling
Which just passed across my heart,
A warm embrace which somehow,
Someone somewhere caused
To bathe me in warmth,
The heartbeat which pulsed
In time with mine,
The blushing cheek
I felt pressed to my lips...
Was that you?
You've never touched me,
And yet, trick of English,
Never have I been touched
So deeply by anyone.
You have made me feel,
Such deep complete pleasure,
Simply by showing, sharing,
The honest pleasure of your heart,
Your fiery passion you feel,
The genuine love within your soul.
What happens when you dance?
When the music enters you,
Shows itself in your face,
Your movements,
The swirl and sway,
The bend and reach,
Of your body,
Ecstatic joining
Of dancer to dance,
To music more
Than notes on a page,
Or orchestral tones...
When the music and you are one?
Long ago
I planted a rose,
Joseph's coat.
It marked a spot,
A memory of mine,
The corner of a fence
Where a treasure
Was once buried.
Flower now gone,
Leaving two memories
For me to hold,
The beauty of the roses,
And the meaning
Of the place it grew.
#donovanbaldwin
Love isn't always about,
Holding hands,
Kissing,
Caressing,
Making love.
Sometimes it's about,
Taking out the trash,
Tending an ill lover,
Warming cold hands,
Being there...
Shoulder to cry on,
Chest to beat on,
Arms to hold,
To be there...
So broad is the endless ocean
So relentless and unending,
Blanketed by mist and
Stirred by storm,
Rife and ripe for
Adventures of
Spirit and soul,
Soother and slayer,
Singer of siren songs,
Made for the pursuit of
Mermaids and other myths.
Art: John William Waterhouse
In quiet darkness,
Alone in comfort of your thoughts,
Enfold yourself in the imagined warmth,
Of my too distant embrace,
Enjoy the touch of loving hands,
Whisper of missing lips against your skin,
Tremble with the pleasure of
My absent contact, with
Amorous self love in my stead.
If I could wish one thing for you,
Give you a single gift,
I would make you free,
Free to laugh and dance and sing,
Free to walk the beaches of the world
Without care or concern
For what you wear,
Or don't,
Free to love and be loved,
Free to accept love
Without conditions.
I, lover, poet,
Write of her, often,
Trying to capture in simple words,
The complexity of a woman
Who transcends the poor
Vocabulary of a poet
Who's seen her, dancer
Her passion,
Her desire,
Her gaiety
Hidden behind
A necessary facade.
I write of her often,
With my words of love.
may i touch your lips
tracing their delightful curves...
with my fingertips
will your tongue flick out
teasing them in their passing...
glistening with love
if your lips open
may my fingers play inside...
your smile around them
#poem
#donovanbaldwin
POEM: WE CANNOT FIND THE SINGER
By: Donovan Baldwin
"We cannot find the singer.
We've searched and all agree.
He's gone, his cloak on river bank
His lyre beside a tree."
One by one they nodded, said,
"His recent songs were...
Read the entire poem at:
I tried to hang the moon.
My fingers barely brushed,
Her silver streaming light,
Before I, laboring so high,
Crashed back to Earth,
Another Icarus, striving
Too far beyond his worth,
Asking the gods for
Favor they denied,
Still, I will try again,
To touch her,
One time,
One time.
@RealJamesWoods
@gabixmaltese
On ANY of these platforms, if someone is "extreme" to me, or others, and,
@RealJamesWoods
, I happen to have viewed, listened to, some of his comments in previous eras, they are FREE to go and enjoy life, and their own pleasures, elsewhere. Freedom of speech, is freedom TO speak.
If I truly love you,
Does it matter what or who you are?
For love, true, genuine love,
Should not be restricted
By the senses, but,
The senses should
Recognize the loved one,
Beyond touch or taste,
Or sight or sound,
Perhaps by feel, but,
Not of body,
But of soul and spirit.
Love's not always physical,
Love can allow us to
Transcend rules and regulations,
Put aside the societal restrictions
Experiencing love in a way
That needs no descriptions
Explanations
To define its existence.
Love IS,
Love HAPPENS,
Love does NOT
Have to be a certain way.
POEM: DANCE FOR ME SALOME
By Donovan Baldwin
Dance for me, Salome,
Move in that fabled way
As you once did for Herod,
Demanding all he had to offer,
As your reward...
Read the entire poem at
POEM: DREAM LOVER IN THE NIGHT
By Donovan Baldwin
In quiet of her bed she lay
At end of yet another day.
Love once more had passed her by,
Alone, a tear crept from her eye...
Read the entire poem at
My loves are all ghosts,
My kisses only memories.
Phantom touches,
Hugs imprinted on my body,
So many years ago,
Linger as echoes
Etched upon my soul.
Pledges and promises
Fell to dust, leaving me,
Standing on a faceless plain,
As the winds and rain of time,
Washed all away.
@kirstiealley
I like you... 98.7% of the time. Don't always agree with you, but, isn't that what I served 21 years in the U.S. military for... so that people could disagree and still be comfortable and happy in this country?
As poet I have neither
Morality or scruples
Time nor direction
Nor other limiting
Dimensions which
Constrain or restrain
For I must put down
Naked emotion and desire
In trust that each reader
Will understand my
Poetic lusts
And forgive me
My innocent sins.
She reclines as I read,
Immersed in suds and poetry,
Bathed by water and words,
Emollient elegies softening
Stiff, tired muscles of her soul,
Releasing restraints and,
Dozens of delayed desires as
My orgasmic orations
Leave her laying languidly
In anticlimactic afterglow.
Let's climb some hills,
Explore some caves,
Go for a dip in
A sacred grotto.
Smile and laugh
At the silliest things,
Made exciting,
Hilarious,
Because we're sharing them.
It's a good time,
Wherever we are,
Whatever we're doing,
Now, about those hills and caves,
And that grotto.
I started drawing lines,
The lines became words
The words became poetry,
And, from the poetry,
A face sprang up and
Spoke back to me in poetry,
And we wove our words
Creating volumes,
Two bodies of work, which,
Became one body,,
And made love with words.
Have you ever felt
The caress of the wind,
The kiss of the sun?
Have you bared yourself
To nature as to a lover?
Have you danced
Among the trees,
Beside the stream,
Dipped into waters,
Without reservation,
Restriction, free,
Unconditionally happy
Exposed to the
World's pleasures?
Touch me there again,
I'll not be responsible,
For where my lips and hands,
Descend, stripping away
All that shields you from me,
Baring and revealing all
The beauty of you,
Fulfilling my desire,
As your hands pursue
Their own pleasure.
Yes, touch me there again,
Touch my heart.
What is beauty?
I find it in the words you speak,
The way you see the sky,
This earth,
And me.
For, whatever you see in me,
This world and art and others
Is done with eyes and mind,
That understand the beauty
Of us erring humans, and
Things of value beyond
Physical appearance.
Before the touch,
Before the kiss,
Before the mingled breath,
Before full body caresses,
There is your
#approach
,
The very expectation
Of you being enough,
To cause my heart
To fill with love and hope.
#vss365
A small wind spoke my words,
Whispered my secrets to flowers
Told the brook about my dreams,
So even the small fish knew,
My hopes, my desires,
My love for you,
How my heart filled with
Your words,
Glowed and grew.
Now the sun knows,
Telling the world,
Each new morning.
Am I supposed to
Love you,
Hate you,
Accept you,
Ignore you,
Because of your height,
Weight,
Color,
Gender,
How,
Or with whom,
You make love?
Oh, I CAN love you,
Hate you,
But not for how
You look
Or pray,
Or play,
Or love,
But for how YOU,
Do unto others.
The rest is immaterial.
I am awestruck when I consider
The sharing of love between us,
The
#mutual
interplay of understanding,
Unconditional acceptance
And unrestricted sharing
Of all wants, desires,
Hopes and dreams,
From the smallest, sweetest moment,
To the most thunderously orgasmic finale.
#vss365
Nobody's perfect,
Not me.
Not you.
Don't look for a perfect person.
They don't exist.
Look for the person
Who's perfect for you,
Who feels the same way about you...
Perfect for them,
As imperfect as you are.
Because of who you've been,
I benefit from who you've become,
Grateful, yet, torn.
Saddened at what the past
May have done to you,
Though it made you the woman I love.
Torn, for I love you as you are,
Would not have you any other way.
Yet regret injuries and pain
In your past.
Words? I love words?
I find them beautiful as threads
Woven into useful things,
Beautiful tapestries,
Covering, concealment,
Yet useful as
Paint and brush,
Chisel and stone,
For revealing beauty,
Hidden from the world.
My words reveal
The beauty I have seen...
Start with...
You.
If you would this moment
Reach out your hand,
Stretching across the miles,
The sad and separating space
Which lies between us,
I would do the same and
Perhaps, our souls' hands
Could touch in some
Cosmic miracle.
I, feeling your fingertips
Would choose
To believe that it was so.
share the dawn with me
as rose gold fingers tear apart...
the black veil of night
Image: Statue of Prairie Wind, C. P. Hadley Park, Fort Worth, Texas, photograph by Donovan Baldwin
#haiku
#dawn
I walked along the shore
As the night turned into day
I heard the waves and more
I heard the ocean say.
"You were a boy years less than score,
Who walked along the bay,
Not knowing what you hungered for,
In lands so far away."
The passersby just see
An old guy,
An unknown gray haired guy
Walking alone in the park.
If they could see inside his young mind
They would see a strong man,
A happy laughing man,
Dancing with his love,
Now gone but not forgotten
To music only he...
And she...
Now hear.
True story:
Yesterday I'm driving through Arkansas and see a fast food sign that ways, "Are you
#hangry
yet?"
Today, I look at
#vss365
prompt, and the word is
#hangry
.
Is there a poet stranded in a Whataburger in Arkansas, trying to get our attention?
The End.