Cravings

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Juices flowed;
Licked slowly;
Flavors savored intensely;
Desires satiated.

  

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Tempestuous yearnings
Once Embroiled
Between heart and mind
Now erupt as flames ignite.

  

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Volcano’s hot lava
Doesn’t burn but
Silences the blaze
Deep within.

  

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Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: January 16 2017
Originally published: January 16 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard


The Unsettling Silence

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He enters the room.
He says little or nothing.
His smile seems fake — always.
I often wonder what he’s thinking.
He may just be a man of little words
Or simply a man who is slow to trust.
Either way,  his silence is unsettling.

 


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Image source: Digital Art by A ~I.R.B.
Contents compiled: February 23 2017
Originally published: February 24 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard


No need to explain

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Image source: Google images (pcwallart.com)

There’s no need to explain why I’m here
With you such small-talk is unnecessary.
You get me better than anyone
Yet with such intimacy
You never force me to stay.

You know it’s better
That I come in search of you
Than to have you come barging in my door —
It’s the only way I’ll fully appreciate your love.

You know I always come back,
I can’t stay away too long.
Your humility and grace are powerful;
I’m drawn to the peace that surrounds you.

I crave peace —
That satisfaction of solving the puzzle —
Perhaps because my existence
Is froth with complications.
Yet you seem to take delight
In seeing me in action
Trying to solve for “X”  —
The algebraic equation of my life.

You’re waiting patiently
For me to say it,  aren’t you?
Okay then,  well here goes…
I’m here because I missed you.
I will always come back to you
For in you I am truly alive.


Contents written: May 29 2016  | Originally published: May 30 2016  |  Copyright 2016 Moylom Enterprises


 

Cliché Conversations

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I hate small talk!
The ones we have in elevators,
At the local grocery store,
Or other places we frequent.

I can tell it’s hot.
I can see it’s raining.
I’m well and you are too.
I can’t complain.
God is good all the time.

Yeah,  those conversations
Which state the obvious.
There’s no depth,
No substance,  just air.

I don’t know about you,
But I crave mental stimulation,
I crave meaning,
I crave authenticity.

If small talk continues to build
Upon the foundation
Of previous chats
Then at least we’re evolving.

But if it always stays the same
Bet your bottom dollar
I’m losing interest fast
And pretty soon will avoid you.

 


Contents written: August 21 2016  |  Originally published: August 22 2016  |  Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises


This is what I crave…

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Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes! – that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

Poem source: http://m.poemhunter.com/poem/annabel-lee/


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: September 17 2016
Originally published: September 18 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises


Traces of Desire 

Your desire is bulletproof. 

Your desire is smoldering. 

Your desire is fearless. 

Your desire is a never ending aftershock. 

~

No trace of boundaries are found.

No trace of blurred lines. 

~

Your desire is vivid with brightness. 

Your desire is daring with truth. 

Your desire is a wicked machine. 

Your desire dances with invisible fire. 

~

No trace of lust entwined in lace.

No trace of danger being sipped. 

~

Your desire is alluring in the quiet storm. 

Your desire shines like crystal. 

Your desire is blazing in the desert. 

Your desire is polarizing. 

~

No traces are etched and engraved. 

No traces of the desire fading. 

Sneaking food

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The pitta-patta of her little feet
Running ’round outside closed door
Tell me she’s totally unaware
I know what’s happening.

She’s stealing food
After I told her no more.
She’s not hungry
She just wants more sugar!

She’s learning to feed herself
For which I’m grateful,
But now I have to wonder
Do I need to hide the Nutella?

She got the chair
She climbed up high.
She found her treasure
She’s a chocolate disaster!

Do I really need to hide the Nutella???

 


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Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: January 9 2017
Originally published: January 9 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard