Only When You're Dreaming

by Melpomene   Feb 13, 2012


Dear Valentine,

There's something about February that
morphs days to endless nights.

I've been watching candle light flicker and I know
you're not listening but I saw lilies
scamper up your skin in the dimness
between the crack in your door way and the
peep hole that bridges your heart to mine.

I never thought I'd tell you this but
I'd describe my soul as vulgar as a lust driven night,
between the brass tones and barely
recognizable bones, somewhere in my
rebirth I lost my spine.

Dear Valentine,
you'll never read this but I get comfort
knowing my promises linger
on your skin like spilt sugar, that your
breath still dances with mine when you're dreaming,

but only when you're dreaming.

10


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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    <3

    I cannot. I just cannot

    I also hope you know I'm slapping you when we meet..u know sometimes u see a really cute baby and u wanna pinch them because they are so cute

    Well I feel the same...about you and your poetry. So I'm slapping u across the face for being so great ok.

    Xoxo

  • 8 years ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    This is still one of the most beautiful poems, I have read up to date. it doesn't leave my heart. ever.

  • 8 years ago

    by A lonely soul

    What can I say, a love poem, like none other that I have read, written with a touch of sensuality to an ex- Valentine on this day. Sadness laced in sweet tantalizing luscious words, is like sticking a sharp knife dipped in honey in to an ex-'s heart. It is absolutely killing. Yes, when the heart grieves, in a loss, the pen can really spin out a beauty, from the musings of a poet's heart. This verse is full of honey sweetened words, laced with reminisces of emotions unfulfilled from the inside depths of female sensuality. Amorous, would be the best way to describe such poetic power. A Venetian vulnerability, personified with vernal vivaciousness without voluptuous or vitriolic vulgarity.

    I never thought I'd tell you this but
    I'd describe my soul as vulgar as a lust driven night,
    between the brass tones and barely
    recognizable bones, somewhere in my
    rebirth I lost my spine.

    Dear Valentine,
    you'll never read this but I get comfort
    knowing my promises linger
    on your skin like spilt sugar, that your
    breath still dances with mine when you're dreaming,
    but only when you're dreaming.

    ^There may be an immense sadness in a loss like this, but when gentle (lusting) words are threaded prodigiously, can even the God of Love resist them? Whether Eros can ever find such a poetic femme fatale, anywhere? One will have to wait and see. (10)

    (From Judging comment 2-19-12)

  • 8 years ago

    by Britt

    Okay, back to make a proper comment :)

    This is definitely very different from your usual, definitely more vulnerable, less riddled with metaphors leaving the reader spinning trying to figure out what you're saying. What an emotionally sparked piece... ah.

    I like your opening how you talk of Feb days and nights - the shortest month of the year and oddly it has strange impact because of the holiday and seeming insignifance in the rest, or so I felt. Do you ever sleep?

    I adore the imagery with the lilies, peephole, doorway etc. The use of 'scamper up your skin' was playful to read, but it gave me such sadness as it didn't FEEL playful. He shut the door, but not all the way, and it leaves you just barely peering in, not knowing what you really see, if it's the whole picture or just what he wants you to. The feeling of the unknown is scarier than anything, I feel. It leaves you to come up with your own ideas and that's terrifying sometimes.

    The next stanza makes me feel like you would lose yourself to him if he'd let you. That your idea of yourself just doesn't matter, you are now putty in his hands, if he'll take you. I love the soul being vulgar - often when you're in pain you realize the dark side, the saucy side, the fiestiness etc. That was penned wonderfully.

    The ending is beautifully tragic and sad - you have so much heart, so much feeling, not that you'll ever allow him to see it. Ah. Mel. This was so unusual for you, however YOU are still within. Your sadness in poetry inspires me in a way you don't understand. You could write anything and still make me feel something that I'm not experiencing. You have a true talent.

  • 8 years ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    Hmm, gurl.

    I like how you have this "wait and get slapped"
    game going on, there are no rules in this..
    you had us waiting since 2011 for you to post a new piece and then ~KLADARATASH BOOM~ in THE FACE...with a stunning heartfelt poem..just somewhere before valentine's day...

    to tell you the truth,
    I like the "Dear valentine" beginning..
    it gives it the letter feel,it gives it such a personal tone..its like, it makes the reader drawn to the poem...my mind went like
    "oooooh, this is something"

    I like the "I've been watching a candle light flicker" part a lot.. not only because of the image I get in my mind..
    but I also know all the things that happen when you concentrate on a candle..
    its like your saying "I've been thinking a lot,or I've been pondering a lot"

    but you just make it pretty with your words..

    then..I was mesmerized by

    "between the crack in your door way and the
    peep hole that bridges your heart to mine. "

    again, the image..(omg)
    but..what I get from here, is that there is still a small amount of love left connecting the two lovers.. it might not be a big deal..but there's still some sort of connection... aaah..beauty.

    "I never thought I'd tell you this but
    I'd describe my soul as vulgar as a lust driven night,"

    WHAT ARE YOU?

    ugh..such poetic bestiality
    I want to bang my head against a wall in disbelief..
    I like...okay I like it all..I mean come up gais..
    but the "I never thought I'd tell you this"
    gives such a vulnerability away,
    such like..a hopelessness?...its like you've reached that final point where you have no other choice left at all but to tell the truth about how you perceive yourself...

    "somewhere in my
    rebirth I lost my spine"

    I really wanna say..not one, not two...but perhaps 3 words in foul language ...
    jeezus christ..

    you see, I think ,in my opinion this phrase is saying "I've lost my strength"
    ..but..ugh..the word choice..just..

    "knowing my promises linger
    on your skin like spilt sugar"

    ..ugh here it connects..with the part of the bridge and the doorway and all that boedoeboem of poetic bestiality you had going on somewhere in the above stanza's
    ...

    I can't find much more to say,
    I am loving your new style,although
    I don't love the feelings behind them
    but to every con there's a pro...and sadness
    squeezes the pen like no other emotion can..

    ...you are probably,
    okay what probably...certainly
    one of the best writers I have ever come across...

    I don't only admire you as a person,
    but your work too, all of it..

    you are amazing dushi,

    never ever forget that okay..

    keep that chin up, always.

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