Please do... anytime.
My emotions are my own... you've no power over them.
Just what I allow...
hugs.

a given...I appreciate your comments.

Bleeding 101

where...it will have meaning
when...it counts
how?...one drop of perception at a time
what...is essential and vital to survive
who...needs to be let
why...surely not just because one can.

SadieLu 2011

Intimating

In all honesty,
she is not seen as
breath taking allure,
though her heart knows
the potential he desires.

Passion is seen as unfolding
touch of soft.A fill
of the soul reflecting
billowing, bulging and building
ebbing to a froth as the effervescence
sits upon shards, waiting to be smoothed
by time old traditions and ancient
expectations.

He has his idea of who she will be
no matter how the insistence
is bartered and reasoned,
for man is as a desert
that has yet to be understood
a ground of brute and insolence
yielding his pride as his rebellious
stature decides.

When he is thirsty
he knows how to drink. She knows his glass
and offers. Even in the sear of the heated,
oasis is her name.

SadieLu 2009

I absolutely adore this Sadie...

Oh Gawd Sadie... you've taken me back to the '70s.
Some peeps I knew that would be candidates for an Alan Jackson song.
And I love that you did it without even trying... haha.

Nicely done...
Btw... will you ever start a new thread?

Thank you, do you mean, one poem at a time?

your appreciation is so enlightening. I love how a writing speaks.

By The Sea

And by the sea driftwood worn,
Smooth the rocks sea weed torn.
Bits and pieces fragments strewn,
She walks within her sandy room, eyes sweeping.

As if debris of life that passed,
Placed deliberate in her path,
Sifting, shifting shoreline, waves
Beckoning, the vast still braves, her soul searching.

And walks along the waters edge,
That changes as the sandy ledge,
Reveals the layers, rocked, glass shards,
Just stepping stones within life's yard, she gathers.

And by this sea, her living room,
Collecting, weaving on her loom,
Her tapestry with woven threads,
Of golds and silvers, choicest reds, and sacrifice.

And soon her soul complete and full,
Rocking with the waves that lull,
Rests along this sea, her shore,
Content and asking for no more, she smiles.

SadieLu 2008

Aye... one thing at a time... a simple mans dream.
But even as I type it... I see it's futile nature and my own stubborness in it. Do it your own way girl... I'll adjust. My apologies for even suggesting... haha.

I have done it both ways. This is something new for me. I am fairly prolific, this just helps me stay collected. Your suggestion will not fall on deaf ears, just a slow thought process. Perhaps, someday, a book. Most likely, self published.

Please,please please Sadie... stay your course!
I was just grumbling because...umm, well I'm good at it.
This way is fine by me... but I'm happier to hear your views on it...
as it makes it clearer in my wee mind.
TY.

kind, thank you.

Do Not Fold Spindle Or Mutilate

I catch myself
referring
to that pervasive
space
where reality is
aligned
somewhere
someplace
wanting to stay hidden.
Something
to embrace or behold,
within.

It cannot be held for very long.
It screams, wriggles
until loosened from its strangle,
rolling out in an awkward blurt.
Obvious, blatant.
Such acuity.

Laugh out loud,
but be gentle.
Today I admit
I am different.
Not like anyone
you have ever known.

At times, I must say audibly,
how you make me feel
how I see you...
and yes,
I know,
you are who
you are.

I cannot remember those days
before I blushed.
I remember you.
Amazing.

SadieLu /2011

Classic Nude

Beautiful elegance, masterfully
portrayed in nude.
Long golden tresses, her body
bared out across satin sheets
peering into a hand held mirror
lying in a garden, lush grasses
peonies and roses, vine
spilling over with trumpet blooms
Nymphs dancing in the background.
One whispering in her ear.
Billowy clouds against azure.
You can almost hear the playful
notes of the flute and strings
plunking from the lyre.

At a closer look, I could not see
red, tired eyes,
or the scars from the surgeries
that disfigured her abdomen.
I could not see the folds of skin
that sagged over her pubis.
How did her breasts remain
symmetrical much less firm?
Were those Nymphs her children
screaming for a meal?
I can understand her looking in the mirror
our vanity gets the best of us.
But...dang! that hair on my chin grew right back,
need to wax my AND my eyebrows.
I think it's time to get those hair extensions done again.
I'm tired of perms.
Man! who is that yammering in my ear,
can't you see I'm trying to get a nap?
How did I get outside...naked?
Do you think this sheet makes me look fat?
Definitely classic.

SadieLu 2011

I enjoyed this Sadie...It started with a 'wow' and ended with lots of laughing...Awesome...

Yes, I am still laughing...imagine ...black or white sheets!!!

fall from grace

A shooting star descended
exposing silent shadows
hovered,
pausing.

Flash eroded in momentary
opaque deceit.
a muted
eclipse
avoiding midnight opulence
in the stark finality

all that remains...
invested scrutiny.


SadieLu 2011

And They Didn't Tell Me Where

So, we go back to what we know.
Not different. The same thought patterns
stuck with the old cohesive, "in the mud",
trying to plaster holes and cracks where
the spin of our existence goes against
the centrifugal bent of our perception.
Only, nothing is ever, quite the same.
Learning, will always be to counteract
how "never going back" influences
"you can never go back home,"
to that which we know, is not unchanged.

SadieLu 2011

I like this Sadie..