Saffron

Hooray for Friderday!  :) :)

Countdown to summer vacation.  Yayyyyy!  

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."  ~Khalil Gibran

This whole "empty nest" thing is pretty damn awesome. 

Being snuggled in bed with the one you love is so awesome.  :)

"Sometimes....my need to be loved is so great and vast that if you put your ear to my heart you could hear the ocean." ~Excerpt from "Practical Magic"

“I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.” ~Mahatma Ghandi

"The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love."   ~Henry Miller

...My object in living is to unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where love and need are one,
And the work is play for mortal stakes,
Is the deed ever really done
For Heaven and the future's sakes.

      ~Robert Frost, from "Two Tramps in Mud Time"

Don't She Glow

Don't she glow

in the burning night

blowtorch breath

searing my neck

her hungry mouth

poised to feast

Don't she glow

a crazy moon

careening wild

side to side

venus pendulum

laughing loud

Don't she glow

burning bright

in eternal hunger

bound so tight

in shifting tides

of sweet release

Don't she glow

rocking to and fro

dancing slow

riding a wave

of pure delight

into the dawn.

~W.I. Boucher

"For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time. " ~Isabel Allende

Relationships are like glass.  Sometimes it's better to leave them broken, rather than to try and hurt yourself putting it back together.  And love, love never dies a natural death.  It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source.  It dies of blindness, errors, and betrayals.  It dies of illness and wounds: weariness, witherings, and tarnishings.

Silver-Lined Heart
   By Taylor Mali

 I’m for reckless abandon
and spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all,
like the twin flutes I kept in the trunk of my car
in a box labeled Emergency Champagne Glasses!

Raise an unexpected glass to long, cold winters
and sweet hot summers and the beautiful confusion of the times in between.
To the unexpected drenching rain that leaves you soaking
wet and smiling breathless;
“We danced in the garden in torn sheets in the rain,”
we were christened in the sanctity of the sprinkler,
can’t you hear it singing out its Hallelujah?

Here’s to the soul-expanding power
of the simply beautiful.

See, things you hate, things you despise,
multinational corporations and lies that politicians tell,
injustices that make you mad as hell,
that’s all well and good.
And as far as writing poems goes,
I guess you should.
It just might be a poem that gets Mumia released,
brings an end to terrorism or peace in the middle east.

But as far as what soothes me, what inspires and moves me,
honesty behooves me to tell you your rage doesn’t move me.
See, like the darkest of clouds my heart has a silver lining,
which does not harken to the loudest whining,
but beats and stirs and grows ever more
when I learn of the things you’re actually for.

That’s why I’m for best friends, long drives, and smiles,
nothing but the sound of thinking for miles.
For the unconditional love of dogs:
may we learn the lessons of their love by heart.
For therapy when you need it,
and poetry when you need it.
And the wisdom to know the difference.

The solution to every problem usually involves some kind of liquid,
even if it’s only Emergency Champagne
or running through the sprinkler.
Can’t you hear it calling you?

I’m for crushes not acted upon, for admiration from afar,
for the delicate and the resilient and the fragile human heart,
may it always heal stronger than it was before.
For walks in the woods, and for the woods themselves,
by which I mean the trees. Definitely for the trees.
Window seats, and locally brewed beer,
and love letters written by hand with fountain pens:
I’m for all of these.

I’m for evolution more than revolution
unless you’re offering some kind of solution.

I’m for the courage it takes to volunteer, to say “yes,” “I believe,” and “I will.”
For the bright side, the glass half full, the silver lining,
and the optimists who consider darkness just a different kind of shining.

So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your precious pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!

"To listen closely and reply well is the highest perfection we are able to attain in the art of conversation."

-- Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Outpouring

Darkness

Heat

Whimpered cries

She lay naked, on a table covered with white linen

The spattering of colored wax dropping like summer rain onto

The swell of her breasts and tummy

Hardening onto creamy white thighs

Intermingling with fat droplets of crimson blood

His steady hand guided the scalpel

The Cutting precise

Flesh nearly glowing, trembling now

She is His human canvas

He stands above her, now holding the slender stems of wax

Controlling the fire

Creating the tremble

His other hand inside of her, holding her captive

To her orgasm

Her bottom rising and falling against the table gingerly, rhythmically

Red lashes and welts, fresh from the belt, decorate her body

He is her beloved creator of pain

She has come here to make her offering

To receive her cleansing

The pain she is given is the pain that heals her

The pouring out of sweat, blood, cum, tears

Outpouring
  ~Saffron

"Rememberance" - Maya Angelou

Your hands easy
weight, teasing the bees
hived in my hair, your smile at the
slope of my cheek. On the
occasion, you press
above me, glowing, spouting
readiness, mystery rapes
my reason

When you have withdrawn
your self and the magic, when
only the smell of your
love lingers between
my breasts, then, only
then, can I greedily consume
your presence.

Make yourself a morsel,


So that love can eat you.


As you are now, you're too sour,


and too large!

Break yourself into pieces!



ooooooooooooooooooooooo


The way of love is not


A subtle argument.


The door there is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles


Of their freedom.


How do they learn it? 

They fall, and falling,


They're given wings.

God turns you from one feeling to another


And teaches by means of opposites


So that you will have two wings to fly,


Not one.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


In the slaughterhouse of love


They kill only the best,


None of the weak or deformed.

Don't run away from this dying.


Whoever's not killed for love is dead meat.

Introduction to Poetry

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.
    ~Billy Collins