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Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
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WORDS WITHOUT SHAME
In my mind you appear so easily
your image glides
across my consciousness
stirring up a deep longing
and suddenly
I find myself wanting
to be where you are
Pictures of you and I form in my mind
curling upwards
like smoke from an ancient fire
smouldering silently
in a fertile underworld
smoke writes words across the sky
telling an emerging story
of love and desire
Words that I cannot speak aloud
have been polluted by a burning shame
tender, delicate, loving words
obscured
by a frightening history
of abuse
power
humiliation
and a searing aloneness
loving words are no longer mine to speak
If these smoking words
were mine again
I would allow them to uncurl once more
into an awaking sky
they would write a story
without shame
and would paint a picture
of my deepening love -
sometimes innocent and childlike
- sometimes sensual and aching
Words create a picture
of red cherry blossom trees
exploding across a sloping lawn
under which I lie confidently with you
holding your gaze
reaching out for your hands
exploring your fingertips
and finding the curves of your lips with mine
and I allow myself to meet you
tenderly
honestly
with longing and desire
and with freedom
from my shame
In my mind you appear so easily
your image glides
across my consciousness
stirring up a deep longing
and suddenly
I find myself wanting
to be where you are
Pictures of you and I form in my mind
curling upwards
like smoke from an ancient fire
smouldering silently
in a fertile underworld
smoke writes words across the sky
telling an emerging story
of love and desire
Words that I cannot speak aloud
have been polluted by a burning shame
tender, delicate, loving words
obscured
by a frightening history
of abuse
power
humiliation
and a searing aloneness
loving words are no longer mine to speak
If these smoking words
were mine again
I would allow them to uncurl once more
into an awaking sky
they would write a story
without shame
and would paint a picture
of my deepening love -
sometimes innocent and childlike
- sometimes sensual and aching
Words create a picture
of red cherry blossom trees
exploding across a sloping lawn
under which I lie confidently with you
holding your gaze
reaching out for your hands
exploring your fingertips
and finding the curves of your lips with mine
and I allow myself to meet you
tenderly
honestly
with longing and desire
and with freedom
from my shame
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