A VISION OF HIS MUSE

His hands on her thighs

he rains kisses

on her beautiful

pussy, hungrily, 

kiss after kiss

on her,

            and after

kisses, 

his tongue

goes beyond kisses.

15.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

FINDING A TREASURE IN MY MAILBOX

The wind blew chill

with a hint of autumn

when with tremulous hands

I opened the wished for

envelope carrying a treasure,

and when first I laid my eyes

on the greatest of them,

dreamed of, the wind

blew chill no more,

I was hot and sweating,

I kissed and kissed the wonder

granted for my hungering

eyes, and feeling

blessed, traced the beauty

with my still shaking fingers,

hoping my caressing touch

and my hungry kisses

would reach her,

my muse, Venus gracefully

revealed to her adorer.

15.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

ON MY EVENING SWIM

The water feels

warmer this evening

as I do my evening swim,

twenty minutes of bliss

after plunging in

and feeling the cold,

floating

above the dark depths

of the lake,

below the dark depths

of the arriving night.

14.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

AT SUNSET IN MID-AUGUST

The cry of a crane

over the lake waters

at sunset,

a fish jumps

among the reeds

not hearing

the sound of summer

ending, autumn

arriving.

14.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

EXOISE

He gazes at her smiling face,

closes his eyes,

can almost feel

his hands caressing

her hair,

her mouth

closing on his cock.

14.08.2025

HIS MUSE GRANTS

Such a good place

to be, mentally,

happy and lustful

and grateful

to his muse

that grants

him flowing words

and images of beauty.

05.06.-14.08.2025

HE REMEMBER HIS MUSE FROM HIS DREAM

He awakes, aroused,

and still remembers

his hands on her hair,

her fingers

on his cock,

her lips touching

his shaft, caressing

it, licking it, 

taking it in her mouth...

04.-14.08.2025

HE GAZES AGAIN AT THE IMAGE OF HIS MUSE

Her buttocks

and her pussy

bare

and only thing

missing,

achingly,

are his hands

from her enticing,

alluring flesh,

his painfully hard

shaft from the entrance

to her wonder.

14.08.2025

CONSTANTINE CAVAFY(1863-1933)

You only lived in the discreet

meetings in the shadows

of bars and rented rooms,

and in the past you cast into poems,

but then, did any

of your beautiful young men

in your poems ever live

so full as you? Those

early wilting flowers

you plucked from the streets

and placed in the sustaining

past of your verses,

past where something of them lives

nameless or under alien names

in the papyrus covering

your own dead form.

14.-16.08.2025

SINCE ILION BLOOMED RED

Think of Hector dead

and dragged behind the chariot

around the mourning Troy,

and Priam inconsolate,

the king too long-lived

except instrument of revenge

through his coming murder,

the Greeks slaying the wrath of gods

upon their hoard-carrying ships,

bringing bronze blades to cut

the threads of life from victorious

flesh making hollow shades.

And think of Achilles

who would linger on this shore

in his blood-stained mound,

ruined exile before broken walls,

and no libations beyond the first blood

to quench the thirst of the wraith

that Apollo's arrow left

when the splendid armour

clattered to the ground

carrying a dead thing that rides

the chariot dragging a bloody carcass

proudly like the flames would

have made him immortal.

Think then how little

have the doomed

changed since Ilion bloomed red.

14.08.2025

SUMMER FLOODING

The evening darkens

for yet another rain shower,

a watery beginning

for July. From

the cracks in the bowl of heaven

the waters of creation pour

upon the flooding land

with no ark but flowing dreams

that carry two by two

the hoarded specimens of the mind

to shining hours.

07.07.-14.08.2025

THE THREE FACTIONS

The living have their guilt,

the poison and the elixir

of their days,

the dead lie among the ruins

of their denied years;

those who could have

and wouldn't avoid

side by side with those

who brought to ruin

the long years waiting

the silent mouths,

unhearing ears

and unseeing eyes

turning to dust

except in the guilt

of those that live.

14.08.2025

MONTROSE BEACH

With LeRoi Picasso

The wind hangs seagulls
in suspended animation

screaming at the lake.

Through nature's racket
surfers walking

into the waves.

07.08.2025

AND ALL THE STALWART POLITICIANS IN THE WEST

Israelis celebrate killing journalists

while crying about their 'hostages' being thin

as 232 Palestinians are dead

as a result of famine

engineered by Israel,

and when the United Nations says

Israel rapes Palestinian captives

Israel demands that the United Nations

concentrates on its 'hostages'

which Israeli government says

can be sacrificed for 'total victory'

and all the stalwart politicians in the West

are deaf and mute and just demand

the unconditional release of 'Israeli hostages'

and never the release of Palestinian captives

that die one per week.

14.08.2025

COMING BACK HOME FROM SWIMMING

When I come back home

the Moon hangs low in the clouds,

an orange fruit

                          too far

to pick up and take a bite,

although it looks

                              juicy.

14.08.2025

ANOTHER LATE SWIMMING TRIP TO THE LAKE

Last evening mist was on the lake

when I arrived on the beach

thirty minutes past nine

in the evening, today

I'm on the beach

ten minutes earlier

and the air is warmer,

no mist, yet the same

lingering purple sunlight

reflected on the dark waters,

distant cries

of migrating birds.

13.-14.08.2025

THE THIEF OF A MILLION YEARS

Small Yousef, aged perhaps around

five, held on his father's lap,

his head bandaged heavily

in vain, for his body is limp

and he is dead

because Israel killed him,

and no amount of parent's love

can bring him back

and restore to him

the stolen seventy, eighty

years which Israel took,

that thief that has taken

a million years

from the children of Gaza.

13.-14.08.2025

ANAS AL-SHARIF(1996-2025)

After Israel had murdered him

his Western 'colleagues'

set to destroy his memory

by amplifying the lies

spinned by his murderer,

unashamed the vultures

tried to eat away

the truth he had revealed,

the truth that lived

when his flesh burned

and his body died

and which no scavenger

flown from the glove of the killer

could devour.

13.08.2025

RESPONDING TO HER

Reading her kind

wordsof his offerings

an electric current

runs through him,

from the brain

now swirling

with visions

to the organ

now rising

responding to her.

13.08.2025

CARRIED IN THE BREEZE

Noon all sunlight,

gentle wind

swaying the green branches,

and the eye avoids

the leaves separated

from the foliage

carried in the breeze.

13.08.2025

LATE EVENING SWIM

Mist hanging above

the lake's surface,

embers of the Sun

enfolded in the clouds,

I swim the chill,

dark waters.

13.08.2025

POSTCARD PERFECT EVENING IN AUGUST

After rain,
after distant thunder,

postcard perfect evening,

landscape bathing in sunlight

still past eight,

and even when it's coldest

evening since June,

I think of going

to the beach and swimming

in the chill waters of the evening.

12.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

Poetry Poem Poems Verse

WINE-DARK LAKE

1

Sunset's crimson red 

on the dark surface of the lake,

Homer's wine-dark sea

here in the ice-carved lake.00

2

Swimming towards the sunset

its red ashes reflected

on the dark water

enfolding me.

3

Not Homer's wine-dark sea

crossed by fatal ships,

just last of the the crimson

sunset on the waters

as I swim towards the shore.

03.07.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

Poetry Poem Poems Verse

PERSONAL LIBERATION (FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF OR SO)

Captured by the screen

I will unchain myself,

fill a bottle with water,

pack my backbag,

walk with a book in hand

to the beach, swim,

and wash away

for a moment the blood

poured on the world

by people who lost

their conscience

and never noticed,

never remembered

they had had one.

10.08.2025

BEFORE DUSK IN THE EVENING

The sky cast clear of clouds,

and it all in hues of blue

from horizon to horizon

under the bright disk of the Sun,

the dusk still two hours away,

and I feel I must take

to the cracked asphalt

to feel the shore sands under my feet,

to be embraced by the birthing

waters to which all life

longs to return.

10.08.2025

HER BUTTERFLIES

Her butterflies

flying through

his dreams,

flapping their wings

having arisen

from her flowers.

05.06.-10.08.2025

SYLVIA PLATH(1932-1963)

To be aware of one's own illness

can be a dangerous thing

for creative people

who use themselves

as the raw material for their art,

for they are building something new

from a true wonder of the world,

a human being, demolishing it

for its materials, and one day

there will be nothing more to take.

12.08.2024-10.08.2025

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

HIS AVALON

After all the hours filled with the misery

of this blood-soaked world,

eleven of them, from gray

morning to this evening sunshine

he turns to her last image

to drive that reality away, briefly,

with the magma of desire and lust

it evokes. The tide of blood

evaporated, briefly vapour

far above his vision of entangled

flesh, to rain down

and rise again as the crimson

tide, but only after his joyful desire

has been quenched 

by his imagination feeding

on her gift, for now

he is in a wonderful state

of bliss, at his Avalon.

26.06.-10.08.2025

HEALING MAGIC

A shattered illusion

in a house of mirrors,

torn by the broken glass,

parts of oneself,

picking them up bare-handed,

with bleeding fingers.

And then... magic

in the form

of her.

26.05.2025 

EVERYTHING YOU COULD BE

All the wasted years have

a secondary presence

lingering for the mind

beyond this one existence

sliced into pieces of time

put one after another

to create a chronology,

the paths taken that preserved

what has been lost

still going on beyond this

one perceived timeline,

some to their own defeats

and failures, some

to a measure of happiness,

few to a pot of gold

at the end of the rainbow,

and beyond the observable

horizon of the universe

in the infinite, in the maws

of black holes birthing

new universes, all of

it repeating, endlessly,

success and failure,

loss and happiness,

for there is no free will

in the multiverse

and no true loss

or gain, what can be

will be, has always been,

and you everything

you could be.

15.07.-10.08.2025

THE STATUE ON A PEDESTAL

The image he sculpted

of her in his mind

was Galatea to his Pygmalion,

stepping from the pedestal

of his thoughts

into his waiting arms,

but he might have been

the statue on a pedestal

she was gazing on.

14.06.2024-15.07.2025-10.08.2025

AN EARLY EVENING IN THE MONTH OF AUGUST

Third of August gone,

and still the early evening bright sunlight,

scattered white clouds hung

on a pale blue sky

above still flourishing green foliage,

and the serenity the eyes gaze on

flow into the human

mind mirroring the landscape -

like in old Chinese paintings

you are only part of the greater whole,

a small figure

in the immensity of natural landscape

itself frozen in a single season,

coming from somewhere unknown

captured before your exit.

So with this poem:

Bright sunlight on green foliage,

golden fields extending to the rising ridge

under a pale blue sky, scattered

white clouds and you.

10.08.2025

Verse Poetry Poems Poem

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

I REMEMBERED A DRAGONFLY

On the Friday evening

turning night

mist arose on the lake shore

as I swam in the dark waters,

and when I walked down the pier

to the cold sands

I reached into the past

and realized it had been decades

since last I had swam

with mist hanging

above the surface of a lake

in the summer night,

and I remembered a dragonfly

that had flown just past my head

towards the reeds on the shore

on that another lake,

while the now lost dead

awaited on the shore

and on this shore solitude.

10.08.2025

UNRAVELLING THE MYSTERY

One solitary boat in the middle of the lake

after sunset, like yesterday, two men aboard.

They are not fishing, not rowing

from one shore to another,

they are talking,

all fourty minutes I'm on the beach or swim

they talk, their words carried across the waters

to me except when I dive underwater,

and when I surface, their words

across the waters again, so mundane,

like Chehkov's characters talking past each other,

and I wonder if Wang Wei

could have deciphered those distant

human voices of his, would their words

have been this ordinary,

unravelling the mystery.

10.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

DON'T BE SHY

If you would be here,

my muse, in flesh

beyond your alluring images

and the visions they inflame,

I would... -

well you, my muse,

you know

what I would do,

in poem after poem

I have described

my lustful desires,

but my muse,

what would you do? 

04.-09.08.2025

SWIMMING

He swims through the dark

waters thinking of her

encountering the waves

with him, swimming

together, enveloped

in the dark waters,

embracing in the shore's

shallow waters each

other's naked flesh,

uniting in the dying

summer's solitude

as the waves come

one after another

to meet the shore.

07.-09.08.2025

DEAR MUSE

Be a willing nymph

to my satyr's lust,

give up the struggle

when you notice

I'm tired from the chase,

throw yourself panting

on the grass

and wait for my feverish

hands and thirsting

mouth to reach your flesh.

09.08.2025

IF ONLY FOR HER GAZE

I stand hard for you

each morning

because your images

embedded in my thoughts

drive my lust

&

because a good muse

deserves an erect show

of gratitude -

if only for her gaze,

if only for her gaze.

09.08.2025

THERE ARE HOURS

Dear muse, there are hours

I dream of long and gentle embrace

making love, but today

gazing at my fridge magnet

my flesh yearns for quick

fulfillment, a feverish tumble,

yearning to pound your pussy.

This is an hour of sheer lust

driven by your alluring image.

09.08.2025

THE WORDS MIGHT LAST

His eye caresses

what my eye can't touch

and his flesh offers

for her gaze

what her hand,

lips and mouth

he yearns to touch,

but it's the words

inspired by her

that might last

when he is dust.

09.08.2025

FOR ALL SHE INSPIRES

Gazing at her in her black

mesh dress, I see myself

stepping through

the image to her,

taking her on my arms

to carry back here to get

what a good muse deserves

for all she inspires.

09.08.2025

QUATRAIN FOR HIS MUSE

Gazing at your lovely buttocks

and your beautiful pussy

I think there's only one thing missing:

My shaft on the gates of pleasure.

09.08.2025

IF WORTHY

Dear muse, if my gifts in word

and image are worthy,

let my words be in your thoughts

and my images before your eyes

when you play with yourself

so that I am with

you when you come.

09.08.2025

LITTLE ELSE

It seems today I can think of little else

than of your naked flesh,

my muse, and imagine it

in so many ways,

how you would be astride me

and slowly lower yourself

to take my shaft to ride

and how I would take

you from behind,

my hands grasping your hips.

09.08.2025

HER GIFT

Her panties in his hands,

just like he would

have just taken them off

from her

and he stands erect

ready to give

himself to her.

07.-09.08.2025

EVOKING WANG WEI

A shaft of Sun across

the dark waters of the evening lake

guiding a path to the pier

for the swimmer,

distant human sounds

evoking Wang Wei

as waves carry this year's brood

of water fowls

past you. Grebes, loons

or wigeons -

to eyes that faded like the setting

Sun, there's no separation

to species

more than the darkling waves

are separate from the lake

or the distant human voices

can be made into words.

08.08.2025

AN AMERICAN COMEDIAN

Noah Hartman attacks UNICEF

for telling that 28 children die each day in Gaza

as a result of bombardment

                and malnutrition,

Noah Hartman who fights against Trump

by...

        sharing content from Bari Weiss,

from Bari Weiss

                            who wanted Refaat Alareer dead,

from Bari Weiss, who is making $200 000 000

as part of CBS and Paramount

surrendering to Trump 

                                       to be allowed to mate.

Bari Weiss, darling of the Far-Right,

will save the United States from Trump,

apparently, 

                   but then, 

                                   Noah Hartman claims

he's a comedian

                            and perhaps all of it

is just a joke,

                      to him, 

                                   including

the 28 children who die each day in Gaza

as a result of bombardment

                 and malnutrition.

05.08.2025

GAZING AT AN IMAGE OF HIS MUSE

Her hand inside black panties,

just above her pussy,

hidden by black fabric

getting in the way,

and inhis imagination

his hands enter the image,

caressing her thighs,

pulling down her panties,

letting his eyes feast on her beauty.

04.-05.08.2025

THE END OF SUMMER

The wind rises,

goes across the land

swaying the branches,

bending the trees

as it grows in strength,

and then comes

thunder, again,

a crash bellowing

through the evening

and the end of summer.

04.-05.08.2025

LEAVING FOR A LATE EVENING SWIM

I have waited out the rain

and the thunder. Silenced

air and clouds departing

are my message to leave,

dim as the evening is;

I will go and take the road,

walk to the waters calm

by now, calm and dark

and warm, and briefly merge

myself in their waning peace.

01.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

AS AUGUST BEGINS

Four days ago

was my grandmother's birthday,

one hundred and seven years

since her birth, when her

grandfather's body waited burial

in their shed as she made

her first cry on a year

that had seen much crying

and mass graves, and now

the month carrying the middle name

of my grandfather, August.

Markers that like our planet

around the Sun

I go through a familiar path

through all the seasons, all the months

and years left, if any,

around and around, but the people

are not there, they have left

and there is desolation,

grand emptiness once filled

with presences, voices gone silent

and fading from memory,

as the path degrades

and spirals to the core of existence.

01.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry

THE FIRST OF AUGUST

The first of August,

and it's twenty-four degrees outside,

but I can't but think

that this is the end of summer,

a low, slow beginning 

for the end of summer;

swimming yesterday and the day before

I came across on the dark

evening waters fallen leaves,

floating among the bubbles

of water-striders,

and songbirds

have fallen silent, their

nests empty, and its

the honking of shorebirds

preparing to migrate echoing

on the shores in the declining

light of the Sun falling

behind the hills.

01.08.2025

#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry