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I'm honored to present here some
wonderful poems that people have written, inspired by
my artwork. Art begets Art...thank you all! |
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I am
conflicts
shadow
immersed
between the eternal
and the living
a collector
of bones
and humanity
talked
of in mythos
and legends
the secerts
of magick
to the underworld
are sought
by the righteous
as well as the
damned
but still they
lie
in silence
upon
your
dead cold
hearted
world
a mirage
of opague thoughts
in empty
mirrored
fiery passions
and dreams
be still
my beloved
angel
a gothic romance
calls
To find
Death In June
and open
the seven final seals
upon summers
dying embers
a lust for
answers
to your riddles
gave even
Eve
Sodom's apple
© 2004 Robert Fetterhoff
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I see you.
With your tender skin,
It's so smooth, so pale,
And in the desert's night, t'would shine like gold.
I see you now,
As you're walking away,
Not a word, not a song, no last things left to say.
I see you then,
So proud and so true,
And never any but I could e'er get through to you.
I'll see you again,
Your fate twisted with mine,
Inescapable and binding; thrilling, chilling, my
blood runs cold with the thought of you. Away loathed
friend,
I see you no more,
Gone from flowers and truth,
Old story and fact,
My art is now gone, only my love is there left.
Sharp fingers will claw into my skin,
The blood will run,
I cannot see,
But runes on the floor,
Can they tell me now? Sleep, just sleep,
I'll not wake you still,
For in your voice was always that power.
Along the walls,
Across the floor,
Alone and alone, no more and no more.
Heated breath
Panting true,
You know I can never quite get over you.
Minds' eye,
Tells me lies,
Of seeing you again; the darkness grows on. That
flowery bed,
- It's just over there, -
That strange piece of lust,
Once where we lay.
I'm naked and writhing,
I'm there on the floor,
Will somebody hear me?
Not even a call.
I'm crying, I'm dying,
Threads weaving around,
My clothes are not there,
Not there at all.
Hurling and twirling,
Will you see me now?
I'm screaming, screaming,
Screaming! And - stop. Forgotten, forgotten,
That music from you,
'I'll never go with you, 'ere how I wanted to...'
My hand on the wall,
Heartbeats of its own,
But you'll ne'er be there to see it, not now, not
then. I see you now,
Sweet kisses on the floor,
Whilst in the arms of the other whom you adore.
I saw you then,
So scared and alone,
But in the rain we two danced, transparent to the
bone.
I'll see you again,
Then alone but still,
But not a word 'till then; not a touch, not a taste,
not a sound, not a smell.
While I weep in my arms of the one I once adored.
© 2003 Nicola Field
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Caressing her back, the sun and a pleasant breeze kiss her body, as does he
The cool earth holds him, encouraging him, exalting him in her glory
The symphony of unseen bird song rises above to the iridescent clouds
Water tumbles and overlaps stones, rippling peacefully
The sensation of his warm, smooth skin against hers is enchanting
Her shoulders hunch over him, her embrace enfolding him gently
He glides in and out of her, the first faint stirring of pleasure echoes
Then resounds through her body in response to his joining
Pleasure sweeps over her, washing her body in rapture moving outward
From her core, she keens at the intensity of her delight
He moves quicker now, knowing she has taken her fill of him
He has served his queen well and must fill her with his life giving essence
As if he were the ancient god himself and she the ancient goddess of the earth.
©2004 Kelli Lowry |
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Turquoise fire and
butterflies freed
Come now to me, I'll stop the bleed
I'll set you free with gypsy tea
and lay you down
in misty lea
Turquoise fire and passion driven
follow me deep into oblivion
I know you need
I know you plea
for torments gone
and rest received
Turquoise fire with flames all hidden
Come to me, I'll do your bidding
You cannot quench this turquoise fire
You alone are Master
my skilled Sire
You've been here once
You've been here twice
You know the magic in my eyes
heated thrice in sorcerous guise
You know exactly
where my beauty lies
Rising heat with friction meet
we enter bare into the fire
melt hot together in scorched desire
we feed the turquoise of the fire
erotic rapture, the fire does free
None can be without us three
You and me in turquoise fire
Come keep this burning
I am the key
fan this fire
and take of me
Turquoise fire
Butterflies freed
Come to me
©2003 Me RedFire
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Vulnerable
Naked but laced in salty wet fears, drys up; the
stains appear
Complacent in a world unknown
The road you walk is restricted
And the people you know can depict it
Any emotion expressed
Any feeling uncovered
I'm not so naive to say
It's nothing of the pain that you've suffered
Something's are worse than death
Something's are worse than pain
You pray for the misery you've earned
When slash after slash your numb once again
There's far too much midnight sky
When your words fuel my scars
Far too many failed astronauts
And not enough stars
©2003 Elle |
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It was a hot, green day in June
when I heard the rattle in her chest,
the day the kitten died.
Sweat mingled with huge tears
as I processed solemnly
through the back yard with
shovel in hand, and the shoe-box
containing the syringe
that was her milk bottle,
the doll's bib that mopped her chin,
and the dead kitten herself,
fetal coiled, chilled but still soft
in her yellow-striped suit.
And I cried not only because
we had previously made eye contact,
two souls, nurse and nursling,
connected forever in one pitiful moment;
I cried because it felt cold
to encounter death in June,
and because her tiny spirit
had struggled so hard to live,
her struggle ending in a casket
designed for pink sneakers.
But as I leveled the last clump of dirt
with the shovel,
and wiped the last tear from my cheek,
my heart gave her a lion-sized eulogy.
I envisioned her ascended
to some feline equivalent of heaven,
to a palace in ancient Egypt where her
ancestors were worshiped as deities,
and she was groomed and bejeweled,
fat from feasting on ritual foods,
curled in a ball and
purring contentedly in the lap
of Pharaoh's daughter.
©2003 Lisa Lindsey |
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The ivories
reflect the soft
twinkling of
Twilight's song.
Disrobe of her virtue,
she waits.
Her subdued sighs
crave soft whispers against her lips,
the unyielding passion
that drips between her thighs
like dew
that forms sweet
on the honeysuckle.
Once veiled in the blessed flame
that laze in the warm candle glow,
she waited, wanted, needed.
Something more,
something less,
she does not know.
Her wanton desires
now a meldoy that
plays to the night,
a memory framed
on a mahogany pedestal
listening to the drift
of a fading tune.
©2003 Tina Marie Thames |
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Do you want me? Will you give yourself to me? Have you cried out in the night for me? Has your body craved mine, even as you tried to keep your thoughts from me? I know all. I am the Potions Master.
Converse to me with your eyes and tell me you want me. Speak volumes to me and tell me you want me to whisper to you, caress you.murmur to you as my essence comes flowing out of me into you. I want to know every nerve and bone in your body is mine and that you belong to me. Let me devour you and feast upon your flesh and soul. Let me make you mine again...
Let me show you what passionate possession is. Let me take you and enfold you in my dark embrace, for I know what you need--you need me.
Are you in need? Are you screaming with lust for me inside of your head? Is your body crying out for fulfillment? Do you want me to touch you here and now?
I know you want me to touch you, embrace you, consume you and I will engulf you in the flames of passion that overwhelm you. I can see it in your eyes. I can be yours. I can make each of your erotic fantasies come true. I would be your slave, if you will only allow me to possess you.
Would you like me to touch you and end this? Or would you prefer that I bring you to climax with words? I can do either. I can stop speaking and still cast you into the throes of sheer pleasure and ecstasy without touching you. I can work magic on you. You will weep, enraptured of the enchanting mystique I have carried you to. All you have to do is tell me what it is you wish for me to do. I am your servant, in your thrall to do as you bid me, give you release, alleviate the lust and desire raging through your body..
I am your master. Your Potions Master.
©2004 Kelli Lowry |
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