In answer to that question. Yes it is. The hiatus from writing has been a bit long; like to the tune of 11 years but I’m still interested in getting those creative juices fired up and giving it a try once more. I don’t know what I’ll do just yet so you will have to sit tight and see what happens. Hang in there (I tell myself this)!
Dylynn
With this blog posting I don't mean to get sappy or philosophical so I hope it's not going to be interpreted that way. It's just me rambling and trying to piece together my thoughts and showcase the beautiful poetry of a new friend.
They say people come into your life for a reason. I'm not talking about lovers. What I'm talking about are the "random" people who serendipitously appear from out of nowhere and then before you know it, suddenly make an impact on your life. You know it's happened when you start asking yourself, WHO IS this person? Why are they here? What am I supposed to learn from them? And who or what entity put them on my path or journey through life? The search to find the answers will go on and on until you find some sort of acceptance and just go with the flow. I've learned when this happens to just let things unfold as they may. After all there's not a damn thing you can do about it anyway, so no use fighting it. It's destiny. I'm pretty sure you know what I mean and have experienced it yourself.
I've had a few moments with such a soul, a beautiful woman, who I met on Twitter of all places (thank you social media). She's talented and about as frank as anybody I've ever met in person. We've had several online discussions about our lives, loves, and the art of writing.
Did I mention she writes poetry? Well, I don't like poetry..err...make that "didn't" like it. When she asked me if I wanted to read one of her poems, I politely said, yes, but cringed inside because poetry really isn't my thing. I admitted this to her right off the bat. Most that I've ever read has left me feeling "eh" or unimpressed and mostly unmoved. Don't get me wrong; I acknowledge the beauty of poetry and the efforts of poets but my reaction to it has not been very positive or appreciative. This changed when I read hers. I was immediately struck by how her words affected me. At the risk of sounding overly gushy; my reaction to her poems was like what it must feel like for a deaf person who suddenly hears beautiful music for the first time. I know, a bit overboard, but see, I've never liked this stuff before and am happy for my change in perspective.
So anyway, MCL, as I'll refer to her, gets right to the point and doesn't mince her words during our discussions. Nor does she handle me with kid gloves or allow me to push her away (my trademark move when I feel vulnerable). I think this is because she instinctively knows that in order to get through to me, nothing but honest and brutal truth will move me. On a couple of occasions she has called me on the carpet when I've whined about my inability to express myself fully. One such discussion moved her to write, Synchronized Insanity, about my self-defeating behavior. When I got over myself; it was a real wake-up call. Was I that transparent? What happened to all those damned walls I work so hard to keep myself entrenched behind? I was blown away by her brutal honesty and frankness. It shocked me and I didn't quite know what to make of it but had to appreciate the beauty and message in her words.
Synchronized Insanity
Go ahead
Fucking tempt me
To penetrate the incapability
Of your very glaring ability
To find you
I need not
The map of your face
In my hands
To feel the wrinkles
Of your soul’s demise
And the inevitable
Rise from the ashes
Of experience
Applied to both
The you then
And the you now
You choose
Who you want to be
I’m just the mirror
Of your synchronized
Insanity
I’m a voice you called
In a silent scream
That was just as much
A surprise to me
To tell it to you straight
You expect me to ghost
And exit stage left
Look at me
Under the lights
I’m still here
Center stage
To bow in ovation
To the reflection
Of everything
You are destined
To be
© MCL October 18, 2010. All Rights Reserved. Copyright held by author*
We discussed love and how the heart refuses to surrender to our minds and sometimes common sense. Once you've loved with your heart and soul, the connection or bond will always be there. Here is what she wrote based on that conversation:
The Bond
Intake of breath
Under your presence
The salt of your sweat
Ignites me
You anticipate
My every want
Before my throat
Defines it
You
My body
Answered
Long before
You took me
That sound
Of me
In your ear
Is
You
In the depth
Of me
Eyes wide open
Legs oblige
I am yours to have
And turn over
And let you
Take me to
Another world
Eyes meet
With the knowing
Passion like this
A once in a lifetime
Encounter
You know
The weight
Of the bond
© MCL October 21, 2010. All Rights Reserved. Copyright held by author*
The passion of this poem still completely blows me away. It's fucking beautiful. I hate to sound sappy but her words genuinely speak to me. I'm certainly more open to poetry these days because of her. I needed enlightenment and she gave it to me. Secondly, as often as I've questioned by writing ability, she's fearlessly challenged my inner critic. Her challenges serve as a reminder to me that my writer's block is both a self-imposed affliction and a convenient excuse.
So, whether I like it or not, she has arrived at my virtual doorstep and into my life as a sweet but pushy muse, refusing to take NO for an answer.
But hold on...serendipity and being a muse works both ways. Something in my words also affects her. Somehow, I seemed to have lit a fire in her as well. My internal conflict, musings, and general lack of self confidence stokes the flames of a poetic bonfire that seeks release from her very own pen. I am HER muse! (or at least one of them). It is my hope that someday she'll have the courage to try to get her work published or share more with the rest of the world. So, thank you MCL, for your gifts and allowing me to share them here on my blog. I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do.
*Permission to post poems on this blog granted by author.
Yours
Delicate silk binds my wrists tightly behind my back and I am blindfolded. Scantily clad in only a black thong and heels; I am on display just the way you like me..jpg)
Silent Fuck
Curled up under the sheets, my sleeping beauty lies.
Holding the shiny metal whip in my hand, I gently trace the length of her exposed calf with the soft leather flogger.
Stirring, she stretches languorously.
I tug at the blankets exposing her nude body and stubbornly repress the urge to lavish on her skin, a thousand kisses.
Opening her legs slightly, I see the rosy lips of her already glistening cunt and place the handle between her folds. She grips my hand with hers. Together we guide cool steel inside. Silent gasp. The flower opens. I bend to taste honey.
© October 12, 2010. Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author.
INVISIBLE
The words she types appear on the screen.
I smile.
Playful. Seductive. Siren-like.
I can't look away.
She asks me if I'll chat privately with her.
I do.
Alone with her now.
I fidget.
Electronic bedroom of sensual colloquy.
We linger.
Her words transform into invisible fingers caressing my skin.
I squirm in my chair.
Seductive. Sinful. She whispers.
I crave more.
Dirty words follow.
I am wet.
Lips on my breasts. Downward.
I open my legs.
Warm tongue reaches velvet.
Ecstasy. Eyes closed.
Inside me now.
Deep.
Hips thrust outward.
Lips utter filth.
Lurid lover. Invisible fiend.
My heaven.
© October 5, 2010. Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author.
