Chemistry of love

This is an old poem, 11 months old to be precise, somehow it avoided being posted until now

Chemistry of love

Stick probes in every orifice

Or needles in my brain,

If it will help decode

The chemistry of my love.

But why do I love you?

I don’t know

But I just love

To hear you laugh.

We can send ships to strange planets,

Red roses to the stars

Or a monkey

In a tin can to the moon.

But why do I love you?

I don’t know

But I just love

To feel you close.

Shall I analyse the Beatles,

The lyrics of the Stones

Or the plays of Shakespeare

To find if there’s a key.

But why do I love you?

I don’t know

But I just love

To hold your hand.

We can search the hieroglyphics

For truths buried ages past,

For love’s Rosetta stone

To synthesise it’s DNA.

But why do I love you?

I don’t know

But I just love

To see your smile.

The scent that lingers in a room

Long after you have gone,

The hope that you will be back soon.

But why do I love you?

I don’t know

But I just know

That I do.

© 2014 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

I Am Free

Orlando Espinosa

Freedom comes from knowing you were created for greatness and embracing it wholeheartedly! Are you free?i am free-orlando espinosa

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Possibility ~ a tanka

Possibility;

New challenges calling me

To the horizon.

Burning passion, starts to spark.

Like the phoenix I will fly.

 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

“Ravishing beauty dancing alone”

Beautiful writing

johncoyote

Steve Henderson www,tuttartpitturasculturapoesiamusica,com (27)belly_dancer_turkeyd1bb4ddce964c9cf53747f089a48a3d5 (1)

Ravishing beauty dancing alone

We will masquerade  as many people. We will be hopeful and filled with dreams when youth
is our advantage. We will strip to bare essentials and dance fearless and unafraid when good
wine and true love is near.

Love is fair. The karma of love lead us to real justice. People who worship love and stay true
to the purpose. Can get lost in the emotion of love. They will have danced in the peril of the sweet kiss
and can burn and roll. Knowing love is like a free and wild river. Can’t be controlled or imprisoned.

Ravishing beauty dancing alone on the moon lite beach. Her long dress flowed with the ocean breeze and
her soft feet caressing the sand. Her beauty can overtake you and a wise man can understand by looking at her
sad eyes. Love is dead to her. I watched…

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The whatever

photo credit: Feeling good via photopin (license)

photo credit: Feeling good via photopin (license)

I am the scimitar,

The sword raised high.

The gentle breeze,

A baby’s cry.

I am the passion,

A lover’s smile.

I am a homeland.

A piece of shining rock?

I am the whatever

That moves your soul,

Not for the dying

But the living for.

 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Soundtrack for March

If you would like to make your way over to the Soundtracks page the new entry to the archive for March is now up and running.

Form an orderly queue, no pushing at the back.

All the best.

Frank

 

“Unless Otherwise Stated”

A poem with a beautiful sense of wistfulness musing on the nature of our existence

Checkmate

photo credit: Shadow Chess via photopin (license)

photo credit: Shadow Chess via photopin (license)

He had not expected the King to be a woman. But his briefing had given him very little information, all he knew was he was meeting an agent in a shabby cabaret bar in a Vienna backstreet who would recognise him.

A blonde, long hair falling onto bare shoulders, had sat herself down next to him her skirt rising as she slid herself along the seat towards him revealing long shapely stocking clad legs, he had been about to tell her to leave when she had given the password, her voice intoxicating as she whispered in his ear. He had asked whether she had the package but the King had not answered just placed her hand on the inside of his thigh, her blue eyes staring challengingly at him as she stroked her hand up and down his thigh.

Hurriedly they had left the cabaret, making their way through the deserted streets lit only by a crescent moon, to the nearest hotel, his mission forgot in his desire to have this woman.

But then after, as he lay naked in a pool of blood a knife in his belly, he realised he had not expected the King to be a double agent.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Plotting a course

photo credit: Dusky via photopin (license)

photo credit: Dusky via photopin (license)

I’ve navigated choppy seas.

My boat has taken on water.

But I made it through,

I survived

And if I fear

That I may go down again,

Lose my compass,

Sight of land,

Then I will remember

That the stars shined

And showed me the way

Back to you.

 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Things of Importance.

Beautiful words that stay with you

Americana Injustica

There are things of importance in this world;
things that only come to us one time, at all –
things that we don’t see for what they are,
while we hold them in our sweaty palms,
we look past the beauty at the spaces beyond;
we don’t send them trinkets in the mail,
as we really, really should,
we don’t send them letters describing to them:
a worth that can’t be mirrored or matched,
it’s too easy to get caught in the nets of –
“tomorrow’s tasks” and “today’s necessities”,
we take for granted: what these things mean to us,
what these things are for us – the work that has been,
back-breakingly and unfailingly – out of loyalty;
A loyalty that doesn’t bend or give with pressure,
doesn’t burn under the heat of a torch’s flame,
these things of importance, take heed of them –
they are a gift…

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