BOOK RELEASE...words unspoken...

it's here...yes...all those words unspoken from my first poetry blog, the gypsy on words unspoken, are now released in book form at amazon and ready for you - a long time coming and not without all the words of love and support and encouragement from all of you - for which i remain forever grateful - many many thanks to each and every one of you - 

with special thanks to the fabulous folks MARTIN CID and ISABEL del RIO at YAREAH MAGAZINE and YAREAH BOOK PUBLISHERS - be sure to check out this wonderful literary/arts international publication where you can catch my poetry every sunday - 

and extra special thanks to TRISH MACGREGOR for her ongoing inspiration, encouragement/support and friendship - and to her magnificent creation, NICA [in Esperanza and Ghost Key], who emanates love and lust - live on, Nica, live on!

- to all my readers, i wish you love and light -

he comes...

he wakes in her
the primal beast
upon whose heart

he must needs feast

he sings to her
in ancient rhyme
his love for her
throughout all time

he lives in her
aphrodite’s dream
and when they love

the night bears their scream

 

he comes to her
in primordial lust
she comes to him
because she must

he wakes
he sings
he lives

her

he
comes

~

- inspired by nica and ben who live in that place called ESPERANZA by TRISH MACGREGOR - 

- a place where hope lives on - 

- and love never dies -

~

the feast...

emerging from his deep abyss

the slimy serpent raised its head

he sought her out upon her bed

and with a hiss and lingering kiss

upon her breasts he dared to feast
for her life he cared the least

he searched for her in times of need

to satisfy his own love’s greed

on her bosom he did suck
in a lustful frenzy all amuck
into her beating heart he did bite
with all his vigorous might
 

his tongue embarked to do his will
until at last he’d gained his fill
but what he could not see
through his lascivious glee
                       
beneath her bounteous flesh
was the bottomless hole
of her stone cold soul
where his own heart she would enmesh

what he sowed so did he reap
as he gurgled his last in her blackest deep
for his dying soul she did not weep

in her he had found the primal beast

her

turn
to

feast

.

.

.

to esperanza...

and trish macgregor...

  

HOPE 

is the dream

of a 

soul awake