Original Poetry Forums

Woman

10-06-2009 at 11:40:47 PM

Woman

How does inspiration come?

How does testosterone tame?

How when viewing woman’s beauty I?



How like a rotoscope does viewing occur?

Frame by frame,

a slow motion movie

freezing time and mind.

She moves though moves not,

frozen in occasion.



My head tilts from side-to-side.

Comprehension lost though sought

with intensity unrivaled.

She stops my breathing and my heart.

Am I a being of sentience

Or an unthinking species caught

in the act of instinctual existence?



I cannot answer this; for caught

In measure am I.

I try to move and find my muscles petrified.



A mammal, a fowl, an insect?

Which of these be I?

I cannot believe it matters,

for she has immobilized my very being.

Incapable of thought

Incapable of speech

Capable only of a love, unrequited.



And what of this?

Does my bewildered stare encompass all I am?

OR

Is it brief and fleeting.

Broken only by a future sighting?

Or is it love & lasting – never stolen, never ending?



Again I cannot answer

For like a statue I stare

Solid, unadulterated, enduring in her beauty.



Her eyes pierce my very soul

When over-coming life surely will.

Her fingers gently brush her golden hair

as I tremble at the thought

of those soothing digits touching.



Her curvaceous body provokes motion

As a candle flame dances in the breeze.

Or is it sunlight dancing

along the water prancing?

Once again I cannot answer-only question

Though knowing full-well it is

…all entrancing.



Lips of softness do pleasure bring.

As I presume a suppleness unrivaled

when to my mouth they surely bring

heaven to earth and angels dancing.



Golden rivers of tresses flow.

Giving life to all they treasure.

But what of treasure in themselves,

life-giving force, impossible to measure.



So many questions women bring.

With answers known not by simple things.

Man is simple and so am I,

but pray I do that someday

Within her eyes I shall shine.

10-11-2009 at 07:46:42 PM

Re: Woman

The days and months, the years go by but my life is still the same.
I move ahead one thousand steps then ten thousand back again.
I've lost a sense of who I am and what I'd like to be...I stumble through the darkness 'til thats all that I can see.
Turn all the light...hope lingers there..life wasn't meant for deep despair.
You're hopes and dreams can still be met, you're young life isn't over yet.
The silly things that break your heart can help you find a place to start.
So look for new things good and right and always keep your goals in sight.
Time can change the way you are and lead you to a brighter star.

corny but true
candace

To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)