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Joli's Journal


Joli's Journal

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4 entries this month
 

In Concert

03:02 Aug 30 2009
Times Read: 674





So very fragile in sleep, my love

I have whispered my fingers

Along your eyelids,

All that lies between us.


Where have you gone

While entrusting your body to me,

Knowing that you are safe to wander

While I am near?


Is the sea spray fresh upon your face

As you skim the world in a pharoah's trireme,

Heart timed to the rower's drums,

Keeping time, keeping time.


If only we could...


You are water spilled and I am the sand

Crouching in doorways of desert tents

Layered in silks as richly hued

As secrets whispered in a lover's bed.


Patience rests with us here,

Where morning shimmers at the horizon

Like a virgin dancing slowly

In diaphanous, waterfall scarves.


Your eyelids flutter, my strong one,

And your fingers lay warm and slack

At my bosom where you are cherished eternally,

An ephemeral libation splashed over my indebted soul.

COMMENTS

-



birra
birra
03:12 Aug 30 2009

I can't say enough about this...



...I'll just *sigh* and hold it close to me before your words can steal all of my breath...





Irony
Irony
05:12 Aug 30 2009

I may never get the image of waterfall scarves out of my head again. I am working on a writing project at the moment, and you just poured in more inspiration than my mind can hold. Now I have images and ideas sloshing all over my clothes and getting them wet. I wonder if poetry can stain T Shirts:P



Also, I loved your poem, but you know this already. I find myself transported away from the words and into the places you describe. So few writers can do this so well for me. Thank you for sharing your words with all of us.





BLOODLIFE
BLOODLIFE
09:35 Aug 30 2009

Do you do anything that doesn't bring on a 'WOW' response?!!!

Like Irony said those waterfall scarves...

I could spent an age in your mind and never get bored.





voodoochile
voodoochile
13:41 Aug 31 2009

:) Oh yes, watching and wondering about the distant shores our mates unconscience mind explores. Nice piece Jo.





Vampirewitch39
Vampirewitch39
15:03 Sep 08 2009

"Water spilled and I am the sand"



How do you come up with such beauty?



Wonderful as always sis.





 

PRIVATE ENTRY

10:19 Aug 29 2009
Times Read: 683


• • • • PRIVATE JOURNAL ENTRY • • • •


 

Frilling

09:19 Aug 23 2009
Times Read: 732




She strings Christmas lights round the bedposts,

Cheap ones that blink their dollar store magic

Across our bodies, hot and spent.

We are tangled in constellations and illusions,

Knotted in the sheets where we lie and fade

Shivering in the fruitless bed we've made.



Hours tearing magazines and painting with paste

In a room draped with paperdoll streamers

That endlessly, heartlessly hold paper hands.

She smiles up at me for a moment,

As though maybe a little decoupage is all that I need,

A little festooning, a bauble or two and a bead.



It's all aftermath with me. My eyes are dusty and itch.

Where the hell is the music? There used to be music

Rolling in off the water. You say we've done ok,

But I'm afraid to scream, afraid sand would spill from my lips.

Before it's too late, my love, come skinnydip with me.

Let's shrug off our skin and slip back in the sea...

COMMENTS

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Beastt17
Beastt17
20:37 Aug 23 2009

Genuine, insightful... even surprising. A hint of the profundity of Dirac's equation, perhaps? And as always, deeply - almost insanely - beautiful.





captainglobehead
captainglobehead
17:11 Aug 24 2009

I see images reminiscent of Walt Kelly, if he wrote eroticism.



I love it.





Theban
Theban
17:43 Aug 26 2009

I like all of it of course, the last few sentences stuck in my mind. Starting from....



'But I'm afraid to scream, afraid sand would spill from my lips'



The last line you use is great.










 

Breathing Out

11:15 Aug 01 2009
Times Read: 821





"What makes you cry?"

Asked the virgin, whiskey on her breath.

I whispered, 'Loneliness when I am not alone,

When I am balled into myself

Wishing for the density of concrete

And the vast desert sands.'



The virgin scratched at a sore.

"And what is beauty?"

'Still sails,' I sighed. 'The impersonal sea

Splashing water on my too hot skin.

Do you see now?

Seek me in the doldrums.'



My best years were lived in a drop of rain

As it fell to the earth.



"Will you kiss me?" yawned the virgin,

Priming the well pump

To fill the pot of a small girl with dusty feet.

The flow sputtered, like a senile water clock

Leaking away the uncelebrated years of my life.

The child danced at the sight of her reflection.



'Tomorrow I will kiss you,

When the wind blows in from the shore

And the day smells salty.

Tomorrow is the day for kissing,

When there is wind enough to fill my sails

And time enough to cry.

COMMENTS

-



BLOODLIFE
BLOODLIFE
12:49 Aug 01 2009

I read through journals every time I get the chance. I save yours till last or I would never read another journal.

Here again is proof of why I say that. Now tomorrow I will search the journals again, you set such a remarkable standard.





birra
birra
15:23 Aug 01 2009

Incredible. Visually stunning without a picture used - yet you painted dozens in my mind.





Theban
Theban
21:06 Aug 04 2009

Fantastic, the smell, the sound and the vision.





Vampirewitch39
Vampirewitch39
01:34 Aug 27 2009

Reading your work is like taking a movie or reading a novel within a minute. Always touching. :)





Lolita
Lolita
23:45 Aug 29 2009

This really is just wonderful, such a well painted picture you have created with your use of words.








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