Thursday, 28 August 2014

MY HEARTIST by Mercy Marende



I sit in ponder of my beloved
So far, the distance kills the heart
I cannot vent
I am mad at him
Who gave him the authority?
To anger me and be angry at I
And with the distance
Assault to injury
It kills the heart
Yet my soul yearns for he
In love
In fight
In fury
In anger
In frustration…Still
I submit
Funny
That in these fiery times my insides burn most for him
I miss thee
I burn in anger and desire
So far
The distance kills the heart

I close my eyes
O my beloved is here
Staring at me
In my fiercest fumes
I want to burst…I want to charge…oh I should explode
And yet
Am halted
But how can I?
The exuberance of his charms won’t let me
Assuredly, he moves towards me
Am confused
My bosom heaves, uncontrollably, pleasurably
I miss you

His gaze fixates upon my eyes
Am bathed in calmness
His arms tightly but gently devour my body
I coil senselessly in submission
I totter in his intoxicating embrace
I blink
He lain me down, sunset reflecting in his eyes
The passion in them ignites my body, my desires
I want you


I tremble in his lips’ tender traces upon mine
Oh that…that I do miss, my heartist
The dexterity of your craftsmanship
Nay
Squirm not over spills and splurges of your shades on my surface
This canvas thirsts
Insatiable of your paint
Worry not of broken and of misplaced brushes
For the skills on thy digits is enviable

Alas! How they tickle
How they stir these nervous nerves
How they paint the corners and edges of this canvas’ curves
Your art on me is impeccable
When you work on this plane
Undesirables turn orgasmic

It is such
In breaking my heart
I would care less
You ponder why?
Well
Our fate, to be or not to be
Pieces of mine shattered heart form a mosaic of your face
Juxtaposition in thought
Of my love against your selfishness
Unfaithfulness
Disloyalty
Egotism
Anger
Disavowal

It don’t matter how far
Nor the distance
Every air you exhale
I feed my desire in its inhalation
Devoid of, I succumb

Nay
Its not obsession
Simply
The loves that burns for you
That the eloquence of words cannot quench
It refuses to die
Its destiny



For he know not the depths of my love
O reader,
If ye cometh across my beloved
Doth pass my word
That I deservedly declare
‘I am your canvas
Paint your love on me'


I received this poem from my girlfriend, so much I want to say about this piece. I wont, instead I'll say thank you, I am glad I am forgiven, loved and missed. I love you and I am honored you love me this much. I am yours; you are mine.



#100daysofblogging #Day11

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

writing was hard today


photo|courtesy


Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication
-Leornado da Vinci

To write today was hard
The topics came and went by so fast
In verity they were just bad


Trying out haikus. Just words strung together really.

#100daysofblogging #day10