Friday, November 18, 2011

Poem/ What If I'd Never Met You?

© Alexandra Carpenter

Would the rivers in my mind be as calm?
Would the rain fall as gentle on my palm?
The stars in the sky would they shine as bright?
It even seems the sun shines brighter through
my window pane.
Would not knowing you be a loss?
Would I push myself further to see more
clearly a thought?
Would I have missed the words you wrote?
Would I ?

No, the rivers in my mind are calmer because of you,
and the rain gentler falling on my palm.
The stars are much brighter in the sky when I see them
through your eyes, even the sun is warmer and brighter
these days though you’re gone.
Knowing you has made my mind open and clearer
then I thought it could be, and I’ve come to want the words
you wrote to fill me up with foresight and thrill my
imagination.

I read them often…


What if I had never met you?
It would’ve taken me longer to be on the right path,
the path where I want my poetry to go,
and the path that this woman I’m growing into needs.
For, we loved each other with perfect
give and take, and I still hear and feel you near.
Had I not met you, loved you, held you as death took you,
I wouldn’t be the woman as wise as I am today.
A woman and poet that your love transformed…..

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Poetry/Sensitive Olfactory

I must confess I love the wonderful manly scent of you

No strong odors of perfumed soap for you will do

Just good old Ivory soap upon your skin is all you trust
Until, I introduced you to just a touch of musk

I love to smell the essence of you left within the sheets

To wear your shirt soaked in your aroma so exotically sweet

My olfactory nerves are over sensitive to every fragrance of you it’s true

I must confess

I’m totally obsessed

With the very manly scent

that is uniquely

you

© 2009 CreativeVibes

Poetry/ Lost In New York

Lost in your deeply accented New York charm
Spilling with charismatic gestures sensually warm
Your fifties be-bop music on your CD played
Gathering me into your arms we began to sway
Looking deep into my eyes singing to me with each tune
There on the lawn under the shining bright summer moon
Loved every second lost in my New York beginning in May
Many enchanted moments we shared
that my memory
button when tapped
begins to replay

©2009 CreativeVibes

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Captured With Heat and Heart

Like pearls, you've been stringing me
Every time we danced all these weeks
Languishing in intimate conversation
So much we've found in common
Comfortable at times no talk is needed

Last night you let me know your heart
Opened to me all within your young hungry soul
Delicious words drenching my mind
Caressing my fingertips as you spoke
Words spoken softly with your intent

Just friends remember
Dancing partners
Your so…..so much younger
Then your lips caressed mine
With succulent vibrant intentions

Electricity enveloping me
Here by the roaring fire we flamed
From the meringue slowly flowing
Into a wild spicy rumba we exploded
Right there on the rug we danced

More passonate moves then any dance
Vibrant sizzling passions intoxicating
New beginning ripe with wonders exploding
Sweet with loves promises captured
Intermingled in a new dance of hearts

© 2008CreativeVibes

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

If The Fate of Native Indians was The Fate of the Whites

THE BUREAU OF WHITE AFFAIRS-author unknown- United Native Americans (UNA)Are proud to announce that it has bought the state of California from The Whites and is throwing it open to Indian settlement. UNA bought California from three winos, found wandering in San Francisco. UNA determined that these three winos were the spokesman for the white people of California. These winos promptly signed the treaty, which was written in Lakota, and sold California for three cases of wine, one bottle of gin, and four cases of beer. Lehman L. Brightman, Commissioner of White Affairs, has announced the following new policies; The Indians have generously agreed to give all Whites living in California four large reservations on which they are to make their new homes. Each reservation will consist of 20 acres and will be located in the following places: Death Valley, The Utah Salt Flats, The Badlands of South Dakota, and the Yukon territory in Alaska. These reservations shall belong to the whites, "...for as long as the sun shines or the grass grows." (or until the Indians want them back.) All land on the reservations will be held in trust for the Whites by The Bureau of White Affairs, and any White who wants to use his land in any way, must secure permission from Commissioner Brightman. Forced marches and evacuations of Whites are to begin immediately so as to open these lands to Indian settlement as quickly as possible. When Whites arrive at the reservations they will be of course, allowed to sell trades and handicrafts at stands by the roadsides. Each White will be provided annually, with one thin blanket, one pair of tennis shoes, a supply of Spam and a copy of the book, "The Life of Crazy Horse." Commissioner Brightman invites all, politically well connected Indian people, to apply for the positions of Reservation agents. If you have less than one year of education, do not speak English, have an authoritarian personality, proof of dishonesty, and a certificate of incompetence, consider yourself well qualified for the position. Paternalistic attitudes and delusions of grandeur a plus. No Whites need apply. Commissioner Brightman also announced the founding of four boarding schools, to which all White youngsters will be sent at the age of six (6). "We want to take those kids far away from the backward culture of their parents," he said. The schools will be located on Alcatraz Island, the Florida Everglades, Point Barrow, Alaska, and Hong Kong. All students arriving at the schools will be stripped of their clothing and forced to wear Indian garb. They will be forced to grow their hair long and in time wear it in braids. Upon arrival, at the schools all White children, will be given IQ tests to determine their understanding of Indian language, culture and survival skills. All those white children that do not measure up to Indian standards will be considered mentally compromised and shunted into courses appropriate to students destined to live lives engaged in menial hard labor. All courses will be taught in Lakota and any child caught speaking English will have their mouth washed out with soap, be whipped, and/or be locked in solitary confinement and denied food for a period of days. Hospitals will be established for the reservations as follows: Whites at Death Valley Reservation may go to the Bangor, Maine Hospital; those at the Yukon Reservations may go to the Miami Beach Hospital; those at the Utah Salt Flats Reservations may go to the Juneau, Alaska Hospital; and those at the Badlands Reservation may receive medical care at the Honolulu, Hawaii, hospital. All hospitals will be staffed by one medical student, a chiropractor, and two crabby army nurses. All hospitals will be supplied with one case of aspirin, a box of Epson salts, and one box of Band-Aids, a pair of pliers, one set of vice grips, and an Exacto knife and a liberal supply of suppositories. Dental care will consist of extraction's only. All whites in need of vision correction will be given a pamphlet on how to squint. All former White churches will be converted to amusement parks for the entertainment of Indians. Interesting statuary and religious artifacts will be purloined by Indian people and sold as curios and collectibles for display in Indian museums and in private collections. To honor the memory of the former White inhabitants, streets, towns, and geographical locations will be given quaint White names. Also at Indian sporting events, mascots depicting white people dressed in period clothing will be trotted out at half-time. These mascots will be made up to resemble cultural icons of the White race as interpreted by Indian experts. A few such examples will be Clem Kadidlehopper, Gomer Pyle, Elmer Fudd, Barney Fife, Yosemite Sam, and the Three Stooges. In this way Indian children will be educated of how White people looked and acted. Any Whites that protest this honor will be regarded as cranks and spoilsports. Indian academics will immediately begin excavations of White cemeteries. Bones and artifacts will be removed and studied. Special attention will be paid to the skulls of White people. These skulls will be measured and scrutinized so that Indian people can determine just what is wrong with white people. After these studies have been completed, the remains will be sent to Pine Ridge, South Dakota. The remains will be stored in cardboard boxes in the basement of The Red Cloud Indian School where they will collect dust and be forgotten. White people whose ancestors wind up in boxes at The Red Cloud School and wish to have the remains sent to them for re-burial will have to fill out 742 different forms, in triplicate, do 28 pushups, and 76 jumping jacks, all the while balancing a bowl of wild rice on their heads. If all these requirements are met successfully, and satisfy the subjective judgments of uninterested Indian bureaucrats, the remains will be promptly returned in 2.4 generations, more-or-less.This version of a twist on American history, was taken from the Leonard Peltier newsletter, "In the Spirit of Crazy Horse."

Friday, October 10, 2008

My DreamCatcher by CreativeVibes

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May the future bring the knowledge to all humanshow to live with and in love, care, respect, and compassionfor all throughout the world.Leaving hate and violenceto the past. Bringing peaceto the world.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Loves Passion

 

Twilight moon is on the rise

Purple is the sky

Little lights blinking

Whirling colors

Colors pink touched with turquoise

Swirling like a tornado

Hip hopping about as it twirls

Never touching

Just brushing lightly

Sensual currents felt

Flowing sparks pulsing

Rhythmically faster

Bursting orgasmic explosions

Love in full bloom

 

Lust n Love

 

It's hot, effervescent

Stimulating beyond measure

Titillating,undulating

Pleasure

 

I want to fill your brain

To amaze you at every turn

I will be your lightening

The thunder in your veins

 

I will make you mad with desire

Charm you with wishful thoughts

There will be no apologies

Never no regrets

 

Passions whispers in intimacy

Heaved breathing at the thought of me

Your total and complete surrender

To my total surrender

 

I to know the depths of you

Everything

       you think

         you feel

            your smell

The very essence of you

Know you

 

I want to be intrenched in you

                              every nerve

                                    thoughts

                                       your beating heart

I want you....

 

Friday, April 11, 2008

Ghostly Commuication

 

© 2008

 

Like silk he felt it

An energy softly flowing

It felt like her sent smelled

Wild musk and sweet ginger

Unmistakably her

 

He felt her like a feather on his ear

Touching his ear, he felt her hand

So real he went to grab it

Nothing

 

Then she was in his mind

Whisperings on pink lips

He closed his eyes

Breathed her into him deeply

 

This is the intimacy he longed for

The two talking together

Watching her so animated

The quiet times so intimate

He cherished

 

Nothing said, just holding her hand

My Daily Load

My Daily Load

© 2008

 

I put it in

pull it out

push a little here

shove a little there

push it all about

all the buttons pressed

oh my finally

off we go

 

Just another wash day load

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Love Whispers On My Skin

 

© 2008

Whisper to me softly

Breathe words upon my heated skin

Lying here with you

I hear the echoes of your sighs

Just hold me and love me

Press your lips to mine

Loving you is so easy

Your wish is my command

 

Tell me you won’t ever say goodbye

 

Hold me closer to you

Keep my passions high

Promise me you’ll stay

Keep me warm

Give my heart a smile

 

Hold me close and tell me it won’t ever end

 

Whisper to me softly

Breathe words on my heated skin

Press your lips to mine

Wrap yourself around me

Loving you is easy

Your every desire

Your wish is my command

Dragons Lair

It could be anywhere

Sometimes it is

When there

It’s magical

      musical

      mystical

…..colorful never drab

Transforming thoughts to fly away

as high as the mind is willing to go

 

Woman and child blend to take flight

A gift you give

Your gift I take

Never for granted
No

With total delight

Your dragons lair a place

that brings me smile

after smile

Romancing Your Mind

I want to have a romance

To wine and dine your mind

Intertwine your words with mine

Wrap myself within your joy

Make your imagination soar

Whisper sweet words within

Making you tingle right to your core

To dance, to prance, always a beginning

Never an end

 

I’ll be a fairy darting to and fro

An angel, a devil, sensual tendrils of vines

Creeping and winding all through your mind

A shadow, a feather, a wind swept soft breeze

To arouse you, caress you, making you scream

More

More

Give me more PLEASE

There are no rules in this romance with your mind

I’ll wine you, and dine you, tease and sensually charm

You at any given time

For I desire the rare wine your mind and you are

MAN MADE HELL (PTS Syndrome)(not me)

I refuse to feel

will not reveal

life has used me

abused me

spit me out

repeatedly

 

trust what

you

them

I don’t even trust me

life has taught me not to

lies from all of you

mouths drip foul honey

 

sweet words useless

I don’t want you

your attention is all I want

I’ll chew you up

spit you out

watch you squirm with pain

 

that is who I am

men are such suckers

ego bent

cocks on a walk

cheaters

liars

fornicators

 

their species

made me who I am

then bitch because I am

selfish to their core

fools

 

I go willing

to do as they want

when I’m board

throw them away

just to watch them

beg

plead

me to stay

they did make me after all

Thursday, March 20, 2008

The Battle of a Soldiers Wife

Back for months now from the war
He's doing much better
Coming to terms with the loss
of the use of his legs
Maneuvers the wheel chair like a race car
Yes, he's doing much better
We, he and I are not

He keeps a distance between us
Pulls away at my most innocent touch
Sitting by the window again thinking
Glancing over at me with his thoughts
You know the ones
He's not the same man as he once was
Without his legs what is he
How can I stay with him
"How can I not"

He says I can leave anytime I'm ready to
I don't need to stay out of pity
Positive he is not no longer worth loving
Go he says daily with his words, his looks
Me, I have had it! I'm not going anywhere!

"Who gave you the right to do my thinking?"
"When did YOU get the right to make my decisions?"
"Ok, your legs don't work anymore"
"Time you started to quit your pity party"
"Well, honey your mind isn't working right either"
"By the way I wasn't ware I fell in love with just your LEGS

"Hon, I thought you knew me better then that"
"Guess we'll have to revitalize your memory"
"Now won't we"
"I'm a warrior in my own right"
"I amazed you the way I'd fight for what I believe in"

"Well, I believe in us!"
"This is how it works from now on"

No more do we wait for the nurse to do leg exercises
You're going to get use to my touch
again
The one you said over an over you couldn't live without

No more sitting in front of the window, we're going outside
To explore, make jokes, laugh again, maybe even
cry
But we're going to do it together as we always did

Your coming back to our bed at night, I'm throwing out the couch
I'm curling up into to sleep from now on as
before
I'm going to seduce you as often as I want in this you have no say
I still light you're fire and you're not taking it away

"Got it Honey"

"Wow!" is that a smile I see in your gleaming eyes and on your lips"
"What's that your saying soldier?"
"I can't HEAR YOU'
"Louder"
Did you say, "I LOVE YOU?"
" Ahhhhh, You got it did you?"

"BABY I LOVE YOU!"

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The Watcher

© 2008

She could hear the country band playing
Gliding across the floor as she slid off her coat
He was there as he had been every Saturday night
Right there at the end table by the dance floor

He tipped his grayish cowboy hat to her
She acknowledged him with a smile
Dang! Those deep green eyes could swallow her up
Then the guitar player started playing and she was off

She was lost as usual in the beat of the music
Playing, She and I, an old Alabama favorite
Line dancing alone as green eyes watched
Just the band, green eyes, and her little self

She felt herself be taken away by the beat
In her own world, steppen, hips swaying, twirling
Her world, not aware of anything but the music
He watched her, his feet tappen to the beat, her beat

He watched as she kicked, twirled, those hips gyrated
Never saw anyone line dance like that he's thinking
The music stopped, "let's thank the little lady," she heard
The whistles, and loud applause, the hall was filling up

He watched, a gleam in his half closed eyes, a sensual grin
She danced, her long dark hair flying, wearing that sensual smile
It fit her just as her skinny jeans fit, but where did she go
Where ever she was when she danced, dam she was free

Song done, whistles, applause, and the usual women glaring
He watches as she grabs her water bottle and steps outside
"She comes here alone, and leaves alone," he's thinking
"Not tonight, time to introduce myself," he whispers

A waltz starts up as she stares up at the stars
"Dance with me" she hears
Turning she's looking into those deep green eyes

"Madam, I just got tired of watching your fire,
the disappearing act you pull when the band plays."
"Take me to where you go when you dance"
"Let's see if you can go there," and slips into his arms
Holding her close they danced on the grass into the night
Sometimes when the band is playing,
the misty fog fills the air around
People swear you can still see them
there on the knoll dancing

Now, who's The Watcher

Sunday, March 9, 2008

WOLF MATE and SHE WOLF

© 2008

It’s been a long hunt for my Wolf Mate

and I, a very long day of sniffing out pray.

The deer have learned well to stand quite

so we pass them by, I am thankful rabbit has

not learned their trick or the young pups
wouldn’t have food tonight. We had to travel

much further today for food then yesterday.

 

My Wolf Mate and I have been running

long and hard to get back to the den.

The pups have water from the snow,

but hunger may make them wonder

away from the cave and they are too

young to go off to far yet.

 

We see the den high up in the twilight

as we come over the knoll. My Wolf Mate and I are

relieved, yet we speed up though we are tired.

Closing in on the den we hear the welcome whining

of the pups, see their black noses peeking out.

As we come to the opening the pups run to us

jumping and licking us and butting our heads,

happy to have us home. Dropping the rabbits,

my mate and I compliment them on their good

behavior of not leaving the den with out us near.

 

My Wolf Mate and I give the head nod to the pups to

eat, as we tear one open at the belly for them. The

other, Mate and I eat with great vigor. When we

are done, my Wolf Mate and I lick the pups clean, soon

now they will do this with each other, as Wolf Mate and I

do for each other. Wolf Mate and I tell the pups it’s time

to curl up in back of the den with us in the back of

the den, next to the wall. We are tired after the hunt

for we had to travel far to find food. In we yelp to

the pups if you want to hear of the hunt. Inside we

curl around them and Wolf Mate starts his tale of our

day away from them, as I, She Wolf wonder how far

we will have to journey tomorrow for food. It might

be time to move the pups to a new den closer to where

we are having to travel for food. I will speak of this to
Wolf Mate tomorrow, now it is time to sleep…..