Trip the Light Fantastic with You

photo credit: Trix: Pierre qui roule ……. Impresionante Sara Baras y toda su compañía via photopin (license)

Your motion in that moment
Is sinuous, movement neverending.
You dance the figure for infinity,
Sketching out your theory of everything
With your body. A prism you have become,
Your silhouette a rainbow as light explodes through you.
I am a spectator at the beginning of the universe
As time stops. Before my heart beats again.
I am a spectator at the beginning of the universe,
As with the electricity of your touch
I come to life; I breathe again.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Phoenix

Day 25 and a poem about a (lost?) soul …

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Stuck in Customs The temple burns the past away as they embrace. via photopin(license)

This feeling,
This searching for a meaning.
This constant yearning, the burden
That I carry around.
This whole in my heart,
This other me that I dare not speak of,
The soulfire being
That threatens to burn me to the ground.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Bliss

Day 17 … because sometimes all it takes is a kiss

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: zubrow Red Cushions via photopin(license)

Bliss,
The one word
For the feeling.
Electrical dreaming,
The motion picture of colours
Exploding in my mind.

Bliss,
The one word
When my head’s spinning
Because our lips are touching.
We’re so close
I feel your heart beating.
Rhythm coalescing, realities colliding
In this mystery, in this kiss.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Lorelei

For 14 November we have a poem about how some people remain enigmatic and unknowable …

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Pat McDonald Deep Thoughts via photopin(license)

Everything about you is secrets,
Night flights and summer rain.
Everything is motion,
Fleeting notions and make-believe.
From the beguiling beginnings
To the moment you slip away,

For you were there and then you were gone.
For one moment you were golden,
Wrapped in a silken web.
I watched you sleep

Your head resting beside me on this pillow,
Until I blinked. Then like night you dissolved
Leaving only the bitter magics in your wake
And the loneliness of the cold light of day.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Exhalation of Water

For the 12 November I’m sharing a poem about moments

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: VinceFL MacroMondays_Bubbles2 001 via photopin(license)

Stillness,
A momentary calm
Like the heart breaths before
The exhalation of water
From the lungs of a drowning man.

A baptism of desire,
Of cold, cold fire.
The absence of touch
In a universe without feeling.
Just the biology of the vacuum
Without emotion only needing,

Then the tsunami.
Colours exploding, overwhelming;
Like a million hands
Reaching out of the darkness
Touching skin, caressing my mind.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Over You

I cannot cry no more
Because of all the tears
I’ve cried before,
Because of the oceans I’ve wept
Down to the very depths.
I can’t spend any more time,
Pennies or heartbeats
Over you.
Because that will leave me bankrupt
And I can’t risk another heartbreak
Just yet
When I’m not ready to be
Over you.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Phoenix

This feeling,
This searching for a meaning.
This constant yearning, the burden
That I carry around.
This whole in my heart,
This other me that I dare not speak of,
The soulfire being
That threatens to burn me to the ground.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Bliss

photo credit: zubrow Red Cushions via photopin (license)

Bliss,
The one word
For the feeling.
Electrical dreaming,
The motion picture of colours
Exploding in my mind.

Bliss,
The one word
When my head’s spinning
Because our lips are touching.
We’re so close
I feel your heart beating.
Rhythm coalescing, realities colliding
In this mystery, in this kiss.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Lorelei

photo credit: Pat McDonald Deep Thoughts via photopin (license)

Everything about you is secrets,
Night flights and summer rain.
Everything is motion,
Fleeting notions and make-believe.
From the beguiling beginnings
To the moment you slip away,

For you were there and then you were gone.
For one moment you were golden,
Wrapped in a silken web.
I watched you sleep

Your head resting beside me on this pillow,
Until I blinked. Then like night you dissolved
Leaving only the bitter magics in your wake
And the loneliness of the cold light of day.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Exhalation of Water

photo credit: VinceFL MacroMondays_Bubbles2 001 via photopin (license)

Stillness,
A momentary calm
Like the heart breaths before
The exhalation of water
From the lungs of a drowning man.

A baptism of desire,
Of cold, cold fire.
The absence of touch
In a universe without feeling.
Just the biology of the vacuum
Without emotion only needing,

Then the tsunami.
Colours exploding, overwhelming;
Like a million hands
Reaching out of the darkness
Touching skin, caressing my mind.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.