you know that feeling you get when you’re flying, no effort and—maybe by mistake—you stay there for awhile? stillness. and you stay in your body where time seems to stop. no fear, no goals, just being there.
you know that feeling.
you close your eyes. you are connected. and it doesn’t matter which part—it’s all of you.
it starts when you’re not looking. and remains.
©️r.e.l. 7/4/19
This is me and you saving the part that you want me to admit the answer to. That the parts between us want to touch, no different than before when we first began exploring about me and you, not lying through my smile.
Remember when I heard you whisper the first time, and you heard me without my speaking? I want to return to that moment, and state of being too. We were powerful then bridging beyond words to a place where sentences and phrases didn’t matter. The spirit speaks when musing and delight take over, along with wonders and desires to know more, to know everything.
My look toward you, into you, was authentic. Was it sad? You knew without a smile what I wanted. You knew as I grabbed my stuff, strong and powerful. You knew where I’d find you in my mind within moments. You knew you’d be there too.
And still I can’t help but cry a little that you didn’t take me away with you in that moment and whisper in my ear the words I’ve known, the language, the words floating above us waiting to be spoken.
When you placed my head gently against yours to hold me closer, I felt all that you know. I heard you say why but you know the answer and its source; because it’s still the same, hidden in your anger, in your lure and my regard. You no longer see through; you connect. You are there now with your eyes. I feel the difference in me now and then, in morning and in evening. My gage is you.
I want to be magic–a force you gravitate toward without reason and even smile when you know the reason. As you are dear to me, especially when I wake, especially when I’m tired. Your fingers run along my arm toward my heart, reminding me to never forget who I am.
An active clarity shining like roots, interspersed inside keeping us safe. My heart knows in silence how you link to aspiring my insides awake. I can write my way to you just as I look up in the sky at a cloud as I float.
Don’t you think that it’s time to be more than we are, more than our eyes sensing. You can take me now to the part where our worlds collide in the dimly-lit room. A candle lights the way to look at what we are, still eyes gazing in the direction of us, shadows behind us flickering.
© r.e.l. 10/8/15
Submitted to Rebelle Society 10/13/15
You are an enigma.
This is about you
and the secret you keep behind your eyes.
It’s unreal to me that you could be there for me.
I see your smile
when you look at me from the place inside you
that is for me,
in the moments when we are touching
or even speaking
as if it’s not happening
when it’s what I want the most
to be cherished by you.
You can’t hide that from me.
It’s not unreal.
When you come to me, I see you with a sixth sense.
You have words but are silent.
I can hear you with your eyes that are blue and clear
staring into me.
Just a tilt of you head
as you hide behind your glass halfway
is enough for me to see
all of it.
My breath is gentle as you come closer, seconds taking minutes.
We are in slow motion and I want that to last.
I want to continue to see your heart beating…
You are more real to me than most things.
I want you in a precious way.
A world is formed
without speaking,
not desperate, or touched with broken hearts.
I don’t know what time it is and it doesn’t matter how long we are here.
I can hear you behind your face that cringes
with the power of the world on your shoulders
against us.
I look into your eyes.
I want to know the secret of you
but you won’t tell me
so I find it
through days or weeks,
through many words and senses.
I can hear you still
even in your fingertips
that lightly brush against me.
You want me in a way that I hold dear.
I believe in your conviction
to your heart
to your trust
and you won’t lie to me.
I find it through the pauses between sentences, unwritten
or smiles that you can’t hold back
(and lips that know me).
I want to sit next to you and hold your hand
and know you are near.
I want to take care of you,
your emotions, your world,
as if I am holding your hand to help you think.
I don’t want you to ask me questions
because you already know the answers.
I know you are near even when you aren’t.
We already have many questions
with responses
throbbing inside of us.
I want to take you home with me
and get tangled in memories, in us.
© r.e.l. 12/14/14
Published on Rebelle Society 1.3.15
Image source: unknown
i don’t know you or how you do it, but when i’m not looking you trap me and hold me down. your arms are heaviness encapsulating me. your eyes look into me. and then i feel you grounding me, as each of my toes touch the floor at the same time and know their purpose. {root chakra}
i want you to understand something. it isn’t me, it’s you. i need you. i don’t want you to leave ever. i want to eat you up. i need to keep you close. {sacral chakra}
i have a hard time waiting, as if impatience is my path to you. run to me as i run to you, please. i’ll meet you there. hurry. i’m waiting. {solar plexus chakra}
with you i believe how precious the teardrop is. you feel me then. how could you not? i am full. i have been carrying the holes of you. i love you. {heart chakra}
do you know what i wish to say to you? how did you hear through my silent fog? it’s ok, i know how. {throat chakra}
i know before you know. it is a feeling. it’s knowlege. it’s truth. i would bet anything on it. circle back and find me. {third eye chakra}
you are like the candle flame that always burns, the one i cannot tell is you or me or we. {crown chakra}
© r.e.l. 6/17/14
Long version published on Rebelle Society 10.3.14
I am hidden. Are you? As if to be hidden behind words that speak illusively, at all times, bouncing off buildings and walls. I shoot an arrow and it comes back to me. Some day.
Who are you anyway? Are you the words or are they merely what comes out when trying to speak? There is no time to leave important words unsaid. I speak of eloquence.
Inspirational times with comic undertones spark a tune in another. Sometimes. But, truly, it’s all for you. You who deserve to be timeless and unforgotten. You are where my eyes open to receive what I’m waking up to now. I am here now because you were there and smiled and felt.
Create. Create all you can be. Be creative. Be daring. Be you. I will walk with you, and you will walk with me. But don’t forget to be balanced, be calm and be all that you should be behind the eyes of you. Don’t tell anyone if you falter.
My calling is you, an obligation to fulfill. You are what begs to flow from me, knowing what to make of it along the way, unsuspecting. You occupy the space between sentences, between thoughts that hang and then drop.
You are my arrow I shot long ago. It came back to me with its secret. It told me with its fire: be the you that wakes up in the morning, still groggy, remembering what exactly went on the hours before while dreaming.
Your image burned in my brain fills me with the opposite of order that I need. I let you build up so that I can understand you better. You give me the power to say No. You allow my creative—my unknown—to surge, to cascade. You are endless and you are real. You make me want to write a story, phenomenal, of us. As a river raging knows my name with impatience trickling, in an instant I am known. Finally.
But it’s just me here now writing… and, all I have are my verses wondering how to get through to you. I seem to be writing as if from a distant land when I realize that life without you isn’t possible. I want to stay there in this moment forever. You are the river that I once swam up, I swim again. Stay with me, you whisper.
© r.e.l. 7/17/13
Published on Rebelle Society 5.10.14
[This is Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fourteen. Continuing on from a dedication, part thirteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I tear you apart in pieces to unglue what you’ve become. Part fifteen in my Behind the eyes of a writer™ series is next]
thank you is not the same
without you here
to stare into
to touch with my fingertips
lightly
seconds pass by loudly
as sand moves through time
enunciating each tick
impatiently, i allow my wandering senses
to embrace simple thoughts of you,
every memory relived
…a teardrop—of joy—on my pillow,
and i know i am reaching out
for your grasp
to taste you in a form
that exceeds words
yet you are an apparition
of time that happens,
but not here in my moment
dear illusion,
please show me where you and now coexist
so that i know
because i have learned
how to stop time…
i will find you
interlaced with me
never forgetting
that in the midst of it all
you found time to save me
all i have i will give to you
i will give you
me
© r.e.l. 3/12/13
Featured in Redbubble’s Vibration in Art and Verse – VAVoom!
Published (in part) on Micropoetry Society
as soon as i told you
you wouldn’t let me go
touch me again
as i turn you inside out
dynamic and raw
drawn to climb into me with your eyes
smile speaking with textures, words uncovered
you know that already
you knew all along
lightly touching
our cells fuse
you know, as do i,
that in i
mixed with you
there is nothing to hide
all along we’ve been
a river containing all that we have tasted,
and verses to stories we have yet to ascend into
as mountains of a dream
that would be ours
© r.e.l. 3/7/13
when time stops
through raindrops
i’ll know you are
here
with me
touching me
with your unknown
as silence will be shattered with speech, in small droplets
as it is, as it will be, as it always has been…
© r.e.l. 6/19/12
image by simeon schatz
sometimes even
a
single
embrace
a touch
can help you build anew
…although vulnerable
as pieces inside of you
are ebbing, are fading,
you learn how to be alive
resilient, supple
and tiptoe forward
soles to the earth
step by step
to prize your beautiful
life
© r.e.l. 6/10/12
[also posted on redbubble]
before you knew me
i felt you …
knowing me,
piercing me
to the core
with a secret
unspoken
let me know when
you’re ready
to do it again
remember, i’m your innuendo
© r.e.l. 5/5/12
image by simeon schatz
Posted for Poetry Picnic 5/6-5/13/12 on Gooseberry Garden
imagine me
as crazy as you
in your forest
that smiles with your sound
i see you
don’t go
touch me again
in only a second
…i knew you
© r.e.l. 10/23/11
image by s i m s h a
Posted for Poetry Picnic 10/23-10/30/11 on Gooseberry Garden
connect with me now
in your mirrored
reflection
where a thought
can send
just a ripple,
transfixed
send me a part
of you
in the place where
we touch
the same wind
© r.e.l. 9/17/11
Posted for Poetry Picnic 9/18-9/24/11 on Gooseberry Garden
if only for a second
….blow the dust
……..from your mind
…………the sands of time
…………….and follow me…
did you think
this act would….
tingle your spine?……..
restrict the narrow…………
spaces that you call ‘you‘?…………….
what if this place
….your perfect harmony
……..touches the rest,
…………always essence
…………….never hindering?
your
blood….
flowing……..
just holding lightly…………
© r.e.l. 6/25/11
submitted to caesura 2/5/14
image by simsha
Posted for Poetry Potluck 6/26-7/2/11 on Jingle Poetry
Featured in Feminine Intent on redbubble
Featured in All Out Emotion on redbubble
i’m used to your fervor
your passion in the moment
touching the part of me
that lingers
moving toward you…
but your attention
drifting
although lovingly
remembering
the way you used to be
before me
© r.e.l. 4/10/11
image “Golden Brown” by Mayou
posted for Poetry Potluck 4/10-4/17/11 on Jingle Poetry
i yearn for
the touch
of your river
flowing toward me…
as the river settles
to the ocean
i am the mix
of me, your warrior
of you, my wave…
© r.e.l. 3/23/11
inspired by the Bhagavad Gita and the Osa peninsula of Costa Rica
posted for Thursday Poets Rally week 40 on Promising Poets
you can touch me if you try
right now
i might melt but won’t disappear
like a ghost
leaving you with only your breath
my blood rises now..
maybe timid
because your touch, if true
can penetrate
the energy of it
speaking…
in the only way it knows how
fingers reaching out
without words
touch me again
© r.e.l. 12/16/10
sculpture ‘The Cathedral’ by Rodin (Rodin Museum, Paris).
**this post is for Poetry Potluck Week 15 (reflections, interpretations, and musings) on Jingle Poetry
she only wants him
to hear her
to feel her syllables
like a feather touching his skin
even for a second
so she keeps trying
for that triumph
why? because she loves him
what else can she do
but wait for his cocoon to open
on its own time
she cannot open it for him
though he secretly wishes she would
to free him of his prison
she knows its in the struggle that he grows
she can relax though
she gets forever afterall
because he walked into her dream with a purpose
to never leave
© r.e.l. 6/29/10
**this post is for Poetry Potluck Week 15 (reflections, interpretations, and musings) on Jingle Poetry
moving too fast
leads to doubt
allowing no feeling
digesting
loving
all that you are
along the way
even if eyes on your words
can be a form of touch
you long for
you are precious
and grow
like a little seed in its bud
into a flower
be patient
all in good time…
© r.e.l. 5/28/10
inspired by my daughter
photo by Lori Tuttle
posted for Poetry Potluck 4/17-4/23/11 on Jingle Poetry
my secret innuendo® 