poetry reading

With Headphones On… [with audio]

Image credit: Spectral-Design

I cannot help but stop
and look at the whispered tapings

Pay attention closely to the postings,
the most discretely transmitting of all

Does it make you shiver?
Does it make you quiver?

Capturing statistics
day by day
poem by poem
Is it you watching?
Is it you listening?

Through your pair of headphones,
are you alone?

Do you make sure
no one else is around?

Are my words rising that piece of flesh?
Or making your heart race?

Are you wishing my words have only reached your ears?
Hoping no one else knows this feeling?

Smoothing and intoxicating,
repeated over and over again

What goes on in that mind?
Are your thoughts racing in time?

The rise, the soaring
from those sweet sounds

O, I wish I could be there
seeing your reaction
when a lustrous new track
has been found

Click here to listen to my poetry on SoundCloud, where almost 100 poems are available

A Story of Hope

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

A writer yearns to tell their story, any story,
that will stand the test of time
full of hardships conquered
and inspire generations with hope.

The story shall feel whimsical,
not so much with fairies dancing
but that there is a happy ending.
The story shall have brevity,
not so much as a long weathered tale
but one that details just enough.

The story shall be one that others dream of
and inspire even the darkest ones with hope.

The depth of emotion shall brighten the skies.
The cutting edge shall be sharp as a fresh-cut sword.
Giving what many have lacked.
Inspiring strength to withstand.

Readers everywhere want a story, any story,
because our story is yearning for hope.

Virtual Readings

During Covid-19 lockdown, more poets are taking advantage of virtual poetry readings to share their work and connect with other writers. The following virtual poetry readings I have participated in over the last two months. Click the links to view/listen to the recordings.

Upcoming virtual poetry readings:

  • Spilled Ink, June 26 7:00pm EST

How We Begin

Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

We arrange to meet in that room,
The one with the two armchairs,
A bed, and a shower
We swap breathless monologues
Then we begin

The unbuttoning of my blouse,
Kisses going down my neck,
Hands upon my chest,
Our bodies speak in thrusts.
I’ve been waiting for a moment like this

Eyes locked tight, mouths open,
Fingers tracing every curve,
Feeling breathless and alive,
Unlocking the magic in every nerve

These are the moments we cling to
As we pull each other closer
There is no other truth:
We could ride this wave forever

Sweat dripping
Our bodies in overdrive
We move slow and then fast
We don’t want this moment to pass

We barely know each other at all
But we know enough;
Just what we like,
Where we want to be touched

Fingers moving up and down my spine
Legs lifting, searching
For what’s between the thighs
I feel your urgency
We’re ready for this surge of electricity

We linger in the afterglow
Our bodies red
Hands moving slow
Soaking in the emotion

This…
This is how we begin

Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

Weekly Sessions

Slowly she enters the room
and approaches the bed.
She’s not feeling too keen on much else
than having poetry read.

She opens the book,
scans the room,
and gives you the look
to proceed.

Your breathless monologues
are what she needs.
She’s not looking for more,
only for your words.

Your voice begins to trigger sensations down below
as she closes her eyes,
breathes deep,
and sighs.

Your words soothe the tension
as each word is given careful attention,
knowing how each one caresses her mind,
seizing on the opportunity
to the revealing of her true beauty;
this is your one chance for unity.

She is captured by your guise.
You firmly believe the efforts are worthwhile.
The feeling is mutual
and catching you both by surprise.

You rise,
she’s reached her peak.
There are no more words left to speak.
The mind is tired and the body is weak.
You lean in and say, ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you next week.’

Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

Whisper In My Ear

Your words whisper in my ear
Your voice does things to me
That haven’t been felt in years

My heart races
My insides quicken
I want to hear more

I listen when I’m alone
To be safe from disturbance
I listen while at work
In hopes that no one notices
The reaction your whisper creates
I listen before I sleep at night
You’re the last thing I want to hear

Blow by blow, your words hit deep
The aching and longing are no strangers to me
But nothing else does it justice
Not like they deserve
Nothing can explain
Or perfectly portray
These feelings the same way

Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One