November Wordsworth

Far apart, seconds split  where no space prevails, a heart beats quite harder after a trace of fingers,  gasping for eacapes your feet will never give.  Feel your chest rise high and then fall down below, pressures of your bosoms pushing against my chest,  we recycle the summer air warm deep from our lungs. I melt into your weak gaze, sinking to the bottoms of oceans hidden beneath your blue eyes, before the bed gets colder  we disappear far beyond the safety of a closed door.  Under the cotton white over the placid sheets, we shudder off cuddles solve the riddles unsolved, as hosts lost into each other in the moment we burn.  november (wordsworth) *whispers of love* ©2023

 "foot steps" a nightmare of fear days darker and nights louder happiness folds under my feet beneath soles sorrow unfolds at every thought peace froths like a bubble  esteem pops   along flights over avenues  left only in the past was i scathed footstep symphonies thoracic drum beats squeals and slams "dare not scream" in between my legs the pains are gone still in the heart and daily meals are pills tears never to dry aches of endless symptoms  of a forever syndrome why me, why you uncle? novemberwordsworth *woes of somber hearts* ©2023

  Beyond the blurry edges at extreme ends of my focal length over the far left panorama sights cinematic lights flash in clash with flares writhed off a shiny skin behold I her in a splash and sited next is her next betroth smiling in ignorance of what his immediate destiny holds a bouquet of scathes just like that  I've been gnarled in over the years. Wryly she smiles away her heart thous of miles away in a way she used to smile at me with her bright glistening denture at a swift paranormal juncture  as he falls for her juicy charisma helplessly sighs in surrender softly carried on in whimpers of the arrears of an upaid love  in a futile debenture. A sensational arrow by ceaserian cuts through my upper chest skin deviating slightly away from  the hard forky rib cage over to my throbing heart  blessing it with raven kisses  leaving it behind with, only glens of incisions slightly missing out on the cortex of my left kidney touching the lower end of my spine.  And now they are doing

Our love story begins a time and moment I let you go a day I walk through that back door footsteps marked by trails of driblets feelings over brims of my entrails spilt all around like grains of sand sinking down like sands of time a one way ticket trip to greyscales haunted shadows of our phobias. The wind seems colder out here quite reclessier in your absentia I hold fingers out for a search stroll over tips and nibs of broken pencils  only a brash but not a droplet of ink with ink from a lachrymal fountain I cast lashes and strokes of driblets adroitly tracing your pretty face into a tear stained painting.    Everyday I stand in front of a mirror is a Halloween it's freaky Friday glancing at my own reflectance I see not less than a fierce archer thrilled more than I'm lost in dread and the unprecedented nightmares  to see my other self with own hands tearing down all that we've built  turning everything around me into a world of broken dreams. Now that I've known not

 Along sunset street sprees  we walk nether silver skylines blinky street lights glistening over empty parks and sidewalks littered by falling autumn leaves  covered in a weak fading haze listening to gloomy lullabies  played by dusty rusty piano keys synchronous to symphonies of distorted old steam train hoots. Beneath your beautiful  under flares of shiny eyelashes  we shine agile smiles in brusque your tender little fingers fit for the nature of my palmistry made just for each other like male to female slots in sleight  grips by tips, slightly so tight like spanner bolts to nuts we right the fault in our stars.  Along banks of calm waters lazy bubbles froth among pebbles cast stones for ducks and drakes stones skipping with no brakes hovering over a silver surface giving birth to endless ripples shiny cheeks head over chest our hearts tell tales in slangs,  tales known only to hearts that fell once into love before.  In essence of fading day light,  reflectance as seen in a mirror 

 I met you my moon underneath shadows of a noon where windy chills calm to room cluelessly, I traded betrothal for doom a bequeath in a boom like ka boom a little bit too soon. Just like a full moon you killed not the dark, but unveiled the beauty of the night shining your glistening glimmer overflowing in ornaments and incenses we traded whispers for whimpers. Tons of giliter added over beauty in it's immenseness when I had not a thing to offer before a taste of the flavor of your lips I gave a heart away for collateral battered for an apple of an eye. As time goes around the clock hours fold into days, days of a moon gone to hiding behind the clouds apples turned into onions of eyes after dusk in the sharpest of nights where the brightest of stars never shines. Like a candle that melts down to wax blown by anxious winds in the night a river of tears streams down my cheeks like logs split by axe blades of steel I can feel something inside me shatter  and the pieces of that thing s

 Ostensibly, it all feels like; "I've known voices of the wind  and maybe all it's journeys,  it's melodies of melancholy that ears may never hear  blowing passed blooming faces of those who only feel it's soothe but not the inconsolable sobs it carries on from faces of those  who can't even remember how  and when they last smiled, those to whom happiness is just a dream." I've got great feelings, of acquaintance with  every falling droplet of rain,  vehemently hiting the ground  splitting into thousands of  other splashes of driblets and all the autumn leaves floating on waves of headwinds  I feel every single pain in their voices  on their journeys set for demise I find my self reciting rythimic surahs into melodic euological verses,  for the friends gone too soon.  With no moon, I'm stuck in my own realm nary a wanning crescent  with a bunch of wistful emotions cracking tales down told by burning flames whispering to their smoke yet though shini

If I can't make flowers bloom move mountains neither heal what's broken then what can I do in this life indeed, what this life is all about am I yet to find out. Far along the prairies below beneath the esthetic state of the art aquariums among frothing bubbles over the Nile's bed What could this life really be intended for blossoms and wilts or birth and demise what this life is all about I am yet to find out. We walk along uncertain certainties sure of nothing  but quietus today tomorrow  or someday what this life truly all about Am I yet to find out? Where do we really belong high in the skies among the stars or  below under the earth three feet in a wooden box whatsoever this life is all about I doubt if I'll ever find out. november  (the black poet) *woes of sombre hearts* ©2023

 I am a flying kiss, swaying in mid-air, like pieces of paper plane torn up all too well, by winds blown and known,  only to the autumn leaves  in essence of innocence on a blind unknown trip, searching for a lip to kiss. Like butterflies for flowers, Along alleys and hallways over mountains down the hills, for you, I am head over heals your where and how abouts  breaking nuts and untying bolts rounding around roundabouts hoping to find you some day.  May be someday, sands will sink down the kink, when the characters of my ink will fade along with, streams of my tears the day my clock will stop at the wishes of farewell when I'll find her lips,  drop down dead and gone. I'll be gone,  never to come back,  In tears and sorrows for the deepest of tears  not those shade from our eyes and cover our faces but, those that stream out of our hearts and cover our souls. november  (the black poet) *woes of sombre hearts* ©2023

Taken a series of stapes one after another synthesized along soothed string pricks synchronies of acoustics adeptly orchestrated early upon once a prick later upon a discernment.  A touch of your strings dwadles over my mind for your charisma I fall with tingles of euphoria  like a shooting star make me walk on rainbows beyond horizons and among mermaids make me swim for by your tunes I live on. Curtains rolled up shut silenting a lingering night in a darkness so sharp like the strum of a harp love is a lush harmonica played at the cast of a wish so once will I hear the melody  then so will I sing along. Don't you ever dare, to stop cause I don't wanna care if we never get to wake or if at all it's a dream I pray we dream more and more often to unravel  all that's left of the sensuals we yet are to discover. november  (the black poet) *whispers of love* ©2023

 Lingering among the amorphous, like winnowed wuthering husks, in the essence of a night's silence I ponder over what life has to offer, what it may take just as a scoffer, over mountains and across lakes  along lengths of long rivers along what's that, that life may offer,  perhaps that, it may wish to savour. At twilight's glance,  merriment may prevail,  apricity may kiss the night good night and may be the sun may wipe tears shaded along a journey from dusk to dawn where sorrow may find it's way after dark, the sun may rise the land may switch to a new song yet not so long, all may be gone for soon it's set, yet to set on the other side of the brigde along the shores of a lake of tears. One on one with the unfathomable, once lone, alone in the dark after dark facing the reality of life's darkest mares, along with the devil to the hades I quest for clues to mysteries untold in the land of the dead and the gone chasing after the demons in my mind scared of eve

That was me, not my twin brother defeated among thrills  of your thrift, that sparing way you spend your love for me, withal extravagantly for her. You turn me on along with all that I'm insecure about my anxieties and, the fear of the unknown as I see you here,  you make a whole bunch of blood run to my face once again,  over and over again. It's one hard thing to find  that someone you love to love some one your heart may skip beats for someone- for whom you may wide awake in the middle of the night, to ponder over and think all over,  once again, and more all over again.  A hard thing to find someone who truly loves you, that one someone  who finds perfectness in every snippet of your perfect imperfections someone to miss you, even when gone a split second  or an inch away from your lips. Some other rare thing to find, someone that loves you one that you surely love too a love story so rare where synchronous hearts may beat among hearts yet once fallen asleep, your eyes may

There is,  the journey of our life, starting once upon a day a day you hold a key out, open a door to let,  wholesomeness of radiance in. Like a shooting star  radiance is a new smile,  enwrapped up in emotions  amorously state of the art, a bond so thick so unbreakable unmistakably imperishably pure, a touch only unstoppable,  just wanna feel right now. My love for you,  is a virgin virgo sun, risen ahead of the equinox, never dimed, eclipsed a sun never to fade, set not to set,  forever never to die. Touched by, lunar blue chroma flares of amaranthine radiance, calm at night rest, virtuous lips tranquil like a celestial nymph alay, sunken down deep under neath, your surreal nocturnal excursions. There it is a  journey with no remorse, least chances of reverse, sticking to the plan, just sit back and relax, stay where you are, just stay here with me, unfold what we are best at, that's loving each other for we were made for each other. In the rear is our passed, dappled in exuberan

 My are feelings gone, faded, rather undone dead and gone days of delight unfolding, into nightfalls old of odd, nary a speck of season, but every single reason for a truth untold to unfold. Your love is a thing,  so dumb so contagious your heart is a clipboard, where simultaneously feelings are cut and pasted, from me her they were cut and in a twinkle if not only a winkle for her there they were pasted. In solitary solitude, so here down to earth I am confiding in my own aches, in serenity of a breaking heart once so pure now so stained counting scars not the stars only I used to count with you numbering the days, left for a heart to heal. Even though not okay, absolutely I am okay It's okay not to be okay, isn't this what life is all about? snippets of joy for happiness, those of pain for acquaintance forgiving and forgetting so will I the pain but not the lessons learnt. november (the black poet) *woes of sombre hearts* ©2023

Among the winds I was born, ferociously piercing deep my nostrils first, so hard I cried, for it hurt so bad. at an age, where the rest of the world was blurry, when all that I had was a sense of touch, for a worm thing around I searched  having found that warm if not two, I suckle my self to consolation, a few minutes later I drift into a world, where tales of flights among clouds, are told. By the winds I was natured, before a day's touch down, at twilight, to osculate the dawn, with a kiss of a silent death, fierce winds cut deep a skin of an unclothed torso amble along steep escarpments a hoe hoist over a bruised scapular, frigid toes bath in showers of dew, I cut through a fog so thick, so thick I can't see my face. Everyday is a brand new day, Unfolding with a new song whether, chirps of weavers of feathers, cries of a newly born baby, crows of a juvenile rooster, or maybe woes of a sombre heart. For as the sun rises far from the east, it's mighty rays seen as far as

Specks of light, safe and sound, before a temple bell is pound In meadows fireflies you hound, merry-go-round, round and round. Behind the scenes, of closed eyes hoist, in the heart of a blooming face, a smile arises, in winkles and twinkles opening doors to a brand new day. Good morning east  where the sun rises, and the west where it sets good morning north, the pursuit of headwinds, And south a birthplace of cyclones. Just like smoke, a prayer has risen far, as high as the Heavens; "may today be the maybe someday,  slap you with kindness of fruitfulness  paint you with a love of bountifulness,  anaesthesia of all aches and may you, continue eating from the tree of life, Amen."  november (the black poet) *behold a great light* ©2023

Yesternight, I broke off for a dream, far beyond the milky-way, In the heart of the galaxy just besides what looked like, the darkest of holes.  Went fishing among the stars, caught twinkle twinkle little, a fairly fairytale beauty sparkle in the darkest of a night painting my life with an ending; "happily ever after " Woke up right besides you,  just to find out that, twinkle twinkle was only you so here sits I contemplating,  on how I don't deserve you you deserve someone celestial.  The sun rises only,  when you wake up birthed in your smiles,  nursed in your heart  may we have dreams no more for you and I, are a dream. november (the black poet)  * Tenderly Soft* Maria, this was only for you!  ©2023