writing live

[butters]

that ineffable space

is there a name for it—
that space between frames
between in and ex-halation
the flare of one synapse
and the next?

non-moments upon whose momentousness
the nameable and countable depend:

that micro-second before a big bang
the period of pent energy
just before tectonic plates release
the pivotal point before clouds loose their rain...
the ineffable space of time it takes
moisture to evaporate
from a dying woman's eye.

 

[butters]

vulnerable

nakedness
isn't something Eve and Adam worried about
at first
and babies certainly don't give a shit

but once we grow used to something
be it clothes
guns
or rings

we fear the threat
of being stripped
we shiver
sure of our vulnerability

 

[sanjuinmood]

 Submission

I gave her all I could
my naked self
on bent knees
as I crawled
to her needs
I shall abide
and I shall heed
was all I said
as I commit
my whole self
to her remit

 

[4degrees]

Take me way up
I'm floating on your cloud
You make things dreamy
With your magic ways
It's less hard to hate
Myself as much
When you are here
Only sometimes

 

[sanjuinmood]

Submissive Surrender

A domme, a queen, her reign supreme,
A love so deep, a passion's dream.
He bows before her, his heart laid bare,
A willing servant, beyond compare.

Her words, a command, a guiding light,
He follows blindly, with all his might.
His actions speak, a silent vow,
His devotion's depth, he'll somehow show.

A naked soul, before her throne,
His love, a treasure, forever known.
She respects, she loves, she misses him,
A bond unbreakable, a sacred whim.

 

[Kadyia]

Nights y Sueños

I miss our nights,
Te extraño.

Why does it hurt so bad?
Si no te piras.

Your smile fucked me up,
Tu risa me volvía loca.

But I still got love,
El tiempo nos jodió.

I thought we’d be forever,
Pensé que esto nunca se acabaría.

I’m broken,
Ahora estamos bien perdidos sin amor.

Life’s so damn cold.
El camino está bien frío.

I’m lost,
Sin tu voz, sin tu dulce melodía

I’ll wait forever,
En mis sueños, te encuentro.

 

[butters]

Told You So

we tell ourselves stories
tales of futures yet to pass
limited only by imagination

from the rose-perfumed
to the stench of burnt rubber
pristine seas of trees
to shattered glass and torn steel
peaceful coexistence
to total annihilation

for those of us who live
to see the pages turn
our stories reach their natural conclusions
human nature's smug in validation
no matter how awful the ending

 

[butters]

the unbelievable thinness of our atmosphere

when you reach such altitudes
nose-bleed heights
perspective curves
and the bigger picture
emerges—
we are planetary

in rarefied air
lungs grow grateful
for acts of intercession
as the id floats—
a go-pro strung out
on the whim of a balloon
expecting to burst at any moment
but expanding, still, horizons

 

[butters]

youth's beautiful certainties

those black and whites
pure, judgemental, righteous
such a stark contrast
to riotous rainbows of colour
so celebrated in our salad days

but when the bright
the hellish blaze
of condemnation and conceit
burns everything down
& all that's left is ash
our mouths are drier
eyes damper
as we begin to understand
our shades of grey

 

[haventgotaclue]

You give me inspiration!

 

[butters]

You give me inspiration!

thanks!

 

[butters]

how to time living

clouds slouch above the horizon
surly sentries straightening up
as company arrives
& entire battalions join their ranks
a collective, potential threat

winds change and change again
accept it
you can't outrun the rain
it's a matter of timing

when lightning splits the skies
when thunder shudders
have your shelter prepared
but when the wondrous wet stuff falls
from heavens where the sun still shines
dance like thirsty earth-gods
absorbing life
embracing rainbows





n.b edits made in my 'butters' thread

 

[butters]

touch wood

when i seek to still a mind
that turns and tumbles
there are times
i find myself transported back
to subtle echoes
of an empty church
a nave with vaulted ceilings
lost in light
the ghosts of old incense
& the poetry of Latin

that sense of space
shrinks me
its timelessness smooths my edges
cool stone beneath soles
the solid silence of old yew
comforting a fretting palm
soothed by pews' simplicity

a harmony of light
flows from stained glass windows
and though alone—
no priest or prayers
no sins to be atoned nor absolutions
no choir, caskets, wedding wreaths—
i am peace



n.b edits made in my 'butters' thread