audio, blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Mine

love hearts_Public Domain Pictures
Public Domain Pictures via pixabay

listen to this poem here:

We whispered quietly as lovers do
of you, and me, and us. We came to be
so intertwined no boundaries were seen,
an alchemy whereby two became one.
And when in velvet dark I murmured soft —
a soundtrack to our games of hide and seek
of push and pull, sharp teeth and tenderness
traced round its edge with just sufficient pain
to ground us in mortality — yours, mine
seemed all the same. We kissed and lived our choice.
You held me close, in case I floated off
into the dark skies of forgotten dreams.

You didn’t pause, my love, or think it strange
that passion’s language is awash with death
and dangerous. We fall and drown, expose
soft beating hearts. We’re careless with our trust.
But when you said I’m yours excitement woke
a lurking appetite that stalked the depths.
I took your willing sacrifice with joy
and feasted on you, gobbled up – your flesh
consumed, assimilated thoroughly
while weeping for my loss. Another one
whose wish came true. You’re part of me always.

To taste your enemy and then devour
is to possess all of his wondrous strengths.
I almost held back this time. Sadly you
my love, were too delicious to resist.

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

mark the spot

fire-X_darksouls1
darksouls1 via pixabay

glances across the room slide away half smiles
(gravitating into orbit)

pulse stutters close enough to touch don’t
(slide fingertips against my palm)

warm breath against my neck goosebumps bloom
(close the distance cross the line)

exploring gentle passion
(see taste savour)

dance a sensual tango back and forth
(push pull resist yield)

all of me and more
(take everything)

together let’s uncover
hidden treasures off the map

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Night moves

child-moon_Mysticsartdesign
Mysticsartdesign via pixabay

Every single night he calls me–
Let’s play hide and seek.
Stepping just ahead so slowly,
close your eyes, don’t peek.

If you look beyond the shadow
past the weary ghost
see, right there. I really do know
what you need the most.

Oh I know he doesn’t mean it
fooled me yet again.
Never catch him for a minute;
sleep’s a losing game.

 

audio, blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Thoughts at three

night sleep_cdd20
cdd20 via pixabay

listen: 

I’m longing for oblivion, a temporary respite
from all the stuff that’s spinning through my brain, night after night.
What can I do when nothing seems to help me slip away
from everything that clutters up my mind, day after day?

I’ve tried all of the recommended old wives tales and tips.
From four o’clock no caffeine is allowed to pass my lips
but white noise drives me crazy, so warm bath and black eye mask
is what I tried. Alas no luck. Is it too much to ask
for a few hours escape from all the worries that I’m feeling
that keep me far from sleep, as I stare up at the dark ceiling?

audio, blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Yellow

poem #5 in the colour series

daisy centre
ekamelev via pixabay

listen: 

Cheerful daisies turn their faces upwards.
Big sun, bright heart reflected in egg yolk centres
And mirrored in the humblest things.
Life energy lights the sky
and falls to earth, yet not diminished.
Instead its littler twin multiplies its force.

As above, so below.
For what I see, I can be.
And though I am ever so small
the universe
is contained within me.