Search Results

Old weary warrior, Poet worn down by time, Shine gone from his words, Ink drying in the well, Trimming one last quill, As a dim memory Pushes to be recalled, Written down, Shared if only with himself, Poem left upon the desk To be found after he is gone, Leaving today's words. • Donovan Baldwin

Lovers in the rain, Wet clothes stuck to Wet bodies. Wet bodies stuck to Wet bodies. Lips stuck to lips, As the rain falls, Streams of liquid, Sticking us together, Breathing into one another, Chests rise and fall together, In the warm rain Washing over two Lovers in the rain. • Donovan Baldwin

gasping her response to his touches like whispers... breathed upon her skin • Donovan Baldwin

Fingers carefully and gently Open the petals of a precious flower, Dip within sweet flowing nectar, Hovering in fevered flight, Touching in amorous dance As swift and hasty steps quicken Emergence of the flowing honey, So sweet to sip directly from Dripping petals of the bloom. • Donovan Baldwin

You are my wind, I set my sails To catch your power, So we can soar Upon a common tempest, Where together we Ride the storm, Holding tight to one anther As our thunder crashes, Lighting flashes, Until the climactic crescendo, When we, wet with the torrent, Seek our earth again. • Donovan Baldwin

draws forth her passions his hands painting with broad strokes... fingertip details • Donovan Baldwin

seeing the virtues loving the entire person... accepting the flaws • Donovan Baldwin

no one else to blame if my life's been difficult... it's my own damn fault • Donovan Baldwin

In the Delphian night an owl cries Evoking ancient memories Writ deep in blood Raising runes of mythic fears Upon the trembling flesh As the fearful sound echoes Against the choral background Of wind, or other unknown creature, Moving darkly through The silently watching forest. • Donovan Baldwin

I drift within my mind As falling snow Seeking earth Chooses to ride The wind a while, Whispering lewd tales Learned from brushes With slender naked limbs Of bare black trees dancing Seductively still upon Moon's white silver floor. • Donovan Baldwin

We only work with words, We poets do, To sing, To draw, To point, To link, To loosen that which must be free. We only work with words, We poets do, As best we can, As they come As they go, Or stay, Emblazoned on our souls. We only work with words, We poets do, So variable, So insensible, So certain, So unsure, So real, So lying and yet, because... We only work with words, We poets do, We love, We laugh, We sing, We praise, We demand, We defend, And sometimes... We fail. For... We only work with words, We poets do, And words are clay, which, Though molded properly, And sure and glistening at first, May slump or turn drab, In the heat of day and sight of men. We only work with words, We poets do, And ask the reader to read, What was in minds and hearts, When set upon the page, With eyes like ours, Who saw the sun and sky, And tried to sing its praises, But missed the mark. So too, with love, and honor, and courage... Read our tales with piety and pity, For the round-shouldered scribe, Trying to make beauty out of letters, For... We only work with words, We poets do, And must leave the living, And understanding of our work Up to you. • Donovan Baldwin

her hand upon mine she draws a map on her skin... leading to eden • Donovan Baldwin