Marveling at a love so fair I hold her hand in mine Her eyes meet me where I am A love true, pure and divine Which makes our wicked loving ways sublime
Flirtatious flutters of her lashes, Lashes of her whip tailed wit Cut deep, so sweet, so many times; I look so forward to it. Marveling at a love so fair.
Her skin so soft I love to touch From head to toe and head to Oh! Skin to skin and such I hold her hand in mine
She smiles at me with secret meaning, Knowledge for only her and I. Her devious desires she discreetly Says what things we together should try. Her eyes meet me where I am
Not where I used to be. For she lifted me up from the dirt Dirty and desperate for love’s caress Across my chest and under my shirt A love true, pure and divine.
I took her angel wings And anointed her with oils The better to slide in between The pleasures of hedonistic spoils Which makes our wicked loving ways sublime
This was for a dVerse prompt: Today, we’re going to revisit the cascade form, created by Udit Bhatia.
“The cascade is not a difficult form to understand. You will use each line from your first stanza in subsequent stanzas. For example, if your first stanza is three lines, your will have four stanzas. The first line of your first stanza becomes the last line of the second stanza. The second line of the first stanza becomes the last line of your second stanza, and so on.”
I hope you enjoy! 😊
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How do you keep silent On a cold winter’s day Like the snores of a snake Hibernating in some forgotten hole?
Do you bury your head? A gopher in a field or Perhaps an ostrich in the sand, Your head buried like treasure.
It’s the polite thing to do, To say nothing, When inside your head Spins a running commentary
Like a golf tournament Announcer wincing in whispered tone, ‘Ooo that one is gonna cost him, Bob’, As you watch him flounder like some landed fish.
I am not like you; I must spout off like a teapot, Boiling with indignity, Uncouth in my opinion.
You sir are a buffoon and she deserves better! And yes I know the location is not ideal And the timing could be better. Perhaps I should know who they are before I speak.
But I am who I am, Like some pipe smoking, sailor man; Hyped up on spinach canned. Love me as if you understand.
This is for a dVerse prompt: Whatever the subject you choose to write on for this poetics challenge, I’d like you to use the rhetorical device of a simile.
“As you know, a simile is a comparison between two unlike things using the words, “like” or “as.” The word “simile” itself is a Latin word meaning “like.” And we use a simile to describe or explain something unfamiliar, or to expand on or distill an abstraction, by relating it to something more familiar. As a rhetorical tool, it‘s very effective in conveying meaning while giving pleasure in discovering resemblances. But it also satisfies our deep emotional or psychological need not merely to inform but to relate to one another.”
Imaginary/ Lines that make borders seem real Communication
“So what did it say? More winter or early spring?”
“Which one?”
“What do you mean which one? The little rodent in the ground. Pops out, sees his shadow, boom, more snow or doesn’t and bam, sunshine and flowers. The groundhog.”
“Yes but which groundhog? The Canadian or the American?”
“What do I care about Canada for? I ain’t huntin’ moose and eating maple syrup. I just want to know if I gotta shovel any more snow.”
“Ahhh. In that case Punxsutawney Phil did see his shadow. Sorry buddy.”
“What about the Canuck ones?”
“Early spring.”
“They should get together and come to consensus.”
“What, like they have a meeting and decide whether to see their shadow or not?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh Donnie. That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. What am I going to do with you?”
Furry weathermen Winter and Spring collusion Three in one decide
“Okay boys, let’s get this show on the road,” said Phil trying to gather the other two to the table.
“Why are you always in charge?” asked Willie.
“Because I’m the American,” replied Phil, standing a little taller. “It’s nature’s way.”
“Sod off,” said Fred, his French Canadian accent giving the expression an even deeper sense of rudeness.
“Come on Fred,” said Willie, always one to be polite, “Let’s not get started off on the wrong foot.”
“Yeah Fred, come on, so we can get this meeting over with. I still have to get back to Pennsylvania.”
“You know we could have done this in Montreal. At least we’d be in a real city,” complained Fred as he pulled up a chair to the table.
“We all agreed we’d meet in Syracuse as it was the most central for all of us,” said Phil
“And Phil can’t cross the border,” chimed in Willie, chuckling.
“It was one time! Besides, it’s legal up there.”
“And the gun?” asked Fred.
“Meh. Everybody has a gun down here. I forgot about it.” Phil shrugged.
“Luckily, you’re a bit of a celebrity. They let you off easy,” said Willie.
“It was a different time. Besides that’s not why we’re here. We’ve got to decide this whole spring or winter thing for 2026.”
“Winter can bugger off for all I care,” said Fred, “I’m voting spring all day.”
“You can’t just vote like that,” said Phil.
“Yeah, what if everybody voted without thinking. No offense,” said Willie turning to Phil.
“None taken,” said Phil.
“I mean if everybody just voted based on how they felt at the moment, think of what kind of mess there would be, again no offense,” said Willie turning to Phil, “Besides, we have a reputation to think of. People would think we were some kind of idiots voting like that, again no offense.”
“I’m beginning to think there is some offense there,” said Phil.
“Sorry.” said Willie.
“Listen. I’m voting spring. You can vote how you like,” said Fred. He crossed his arms and sat back in the chair.
“Well my vote is for winter,” said Phil.
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with you buying into a salt mining business would it?” asked Fred, arching an eyebrow.
“It might, it might. But with 6 more weeks of winter I get to stay in my hole and not be bothered by people. And we need the cool. Have you seen the summers around here lately? A little global chilling to balance out this global warming is a good thing.”
“Hmph,” said Fred, “Well Willie old boy, seems like you get to break the tie.”
“Game 7,” said Phil.
“Ontario is up to bat,” said Fred.
“Or taking the ice,” said Phil.
“Either way, we know what’s going to happen,” said Fred.
“Listen, the two of you can kiss my -” said Willie, before he started choking.
“You okay?” asked Fred and Phil after a couple of minutes watching Willie choke.
“Yeah, I’m fine. And bring on spring! I’ve got a good feeling.”
Phil and Fred rolled their eyes.
Rain or snow showers The world still turns endlessly Winter becomes Spring
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a haibun alluding to Groundhog Day.
Did you know that there is a groundhog for groundhog’s day in the US and in Canada? Actually there are several but the one’s I heard about were the Ontario one: Wiarton Willie, the Quebec one: Fred la Marmotte and the Pennsylvania one: Punxsutawney Phil.
The opportunity for a comedic piece was too strong for me to resist. I hope you enjoy! 😁
I cried for the moment to end To come back again To stay frozen forever. Anxiety? Maybe. Anticipation? Trepidation? Excitement? Desire? Fear? Why name an emotion? Instead just feel.
It sits there in my gut, Waiting to erupt. Longing for you. No, waiting for you, Like a monk. My body it's monastery.
It has a faith I lack. Never looking forward or back. It knows you'll come along, To me, for me. Mine. This faith feeling, This destiny divine.
Like Love it is everlasting, This moment, pin needle sharp In time. A razor’s edge So thin, tightrope walked, Exponent of infinity, A constant point. Just there, No equation Or equal sign.
I wait here. For it to explode. For infinity to cease. The amalgamation of all I feel To come together In one Big Bang.
Poof. It goes. Not a whimper Or whisper. Life goes on As before.
A collection of poems from seductive and spicy to thoughtful and observant. 39 of the best poems from the AuthorStew blog and scattered across the Internet are gathered in this collection. There is sure to be something within this collection that will delight you.
Foreground image by Nika Akin; background image by Barbara A Lane both by Pixabay. Editing of images by Me
Dreams of her that’s all they ever were The only dreams I ever had She, her, the female form Her body, eyes, curves, smile Form my every sleeping thought Driving down a road slick with rain Dangerous curves, yeah that’s her Running through a desert Panting with desire For just a drop of moisture Too much a simile for me To not see That it is her to me Floating on a cloud, the number 9 She is there with me Finally mine Only to wake in a bed empty
I close my eyes again. She is my dream. My subconscious’ Only reality.
This is for a dVerse prompt: For today’s Poetics, I would like you to write a poem that interprets a dream. It can be about falling— where falling is not fear, but release. Let gravity feel like permission. What did you finally stop holding onto?
Hope you enjoy!
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Simple trip, kids & I, Not so simple after all, Once we stopped for lunch.
Familiar landmarks, Seen for the first time. The same restaurant lunch.
Then the tire went flat. Hours waiting only to be led on a chase. Our only family road trip.
This is for a dVerse prompt: So, for this Monday quadrille prompt, as you may have all guessed, I would like you to write a poem of exactly 44 words including the word trip.
This was inspired by a memory of a road trip the kids and I took from the GTA in Ontario to Baltimore, MD and back. Yes, there was a restaurant, yes, there was a flat, yes there was a chase. Though technically it wasn’t our only family road trip. Hope you enjoy! And no flat tires. 😊
Kisses made of stars, trail down your neck My lips send fire, to burn through your cold exterior, towards a burning sun My hands reach for the warmth of you, the depths you keep hidden I feel your fire, lava flowing beneath the surface I want to set it free, let your heat sear into my skin
Your lips part, letting out sounds of pleasure Your hands rest upon my body, your support and undoing Let your touch linger on me, feel my desire Let that desire fuel you, rise up, ride the stars into the night Create a place for our fire to burn, together we’ll heat up the darkness.
A collection of short erotic stories including all 3 of the pandemic stories; previously released separately. An array of stories ranging from a heated argument between a mom and dad that turns steamy to an interplanetary smuggler getting frisky behind a hotel desk. You’ll find a wide variety of fun well written stories to enjoy with high spice content.
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. From ‘Let America Be America Again’ By Langston Hughes
(I’m not America though I used to be, but America was never me) Make it great again. Great at what? Great when? Maybe the 1960’s, how about then? Segregation, cold wars Assassinate a president. Oh no, that’s all right then. When would you like to go back to? You let me know when. Not a time but a way? The way it used to be? When America was respected, a leader of nations and men. Let America be America again.
("I had a dream. That one day this nation would rise up …" But I’m living it’s nightmare) Dream on you dreamers. No, not you sleepers. Not you sleepers who have slept on the atrocities of a once great country; Those that snore peacefully as the elected Executive stomps through history. A petulant toddler, upset that he is not given his favorite toy. Which toy? Whichever one he can see, Be it green, land, or gold, peace, prizes or war, any toy in the hand of another, He thinks belongs to him. If I want it it’s mine! It belongs to me! A sleeping giant, this land of the free? Let it be the dream it used to be.
(America discovered in 1492, unless you were here already, but we’re not talking to you) America used to do things. We were the envy of the globe. We made discoveries. Pioneers in the sciences, arts and more. The great Western, of civilization; Complete with cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat. America used to be … They’ll say, as if yesterday was a panacea, and the present pain. America still is. Despite the recent dark clouds and dumbing down of society Through an endless campaign Let it be the pioneer on the plain
(“America was never America to me”. Though maybe America is more me than it wishes to see.) There is hope on the horizon, or in the clouds, in the cloud, an AI induced hallucination, Perhaps in the nation, a female orientation, with male parts, a crazy upstart, Who dares to dream. Who dares indeed? Dream a little dream, you’ve got to be a little crazy, To combat the doomscrool, for whom the bell tolls, if you’re going to believe, That things will get better, can’t get much worse, oh but it can you see, See it all, from above the clouds, above the cloud, an AI hallucination, Data center hiccup, energy drain, there it goes again, The desire to be free, it’s not just me. Seeking a home where he himself is free.
This was for a dVerse prompt: I thought we should revisit a form we had not done together since May 2013 when it was presented to the community by Samuel Peralta. This is the glosa (sometimes gloss or close) that is a poetry that goes back to the Spanish courts of the 14th century. The idea is to use four lines from a famous or well-known poet and expand on the poem keeping it in line with the original poem, and to honor the author.
The form consists of four borrowed lines from your poem (the cabreza) of choice and four stanzas of ten lines where the last line of each stanza is a line from the cabreza. There is no requirement on the meter other than it should not be too different from the borrowed poem. There is only one other requirement and that is that in the glosa line 6 and 9 should rhyme with the borrowed line.
I chose a poem from one of my favorite poets, Langston Hughes, ‘Let America Be America Again’. I took a look at some of his famous poems and then I saw this one and thought this was the one. I had forgotten about it until I saw the title and started to read it and was like oh yeah.
In writing this I forgot that the last line had to be from the original and wrote my own last lines (I did the rhyming of lines 6 & 9 in the original) and when posting I saw that the last line had to be from the original and stuck it in. It works but it completely changed the poem. 🤣 I highly suggest you read Langston Hughes’ Let America Be America Again. It’s striking how a poem written in 1935 can have such an impact in 2026.
I also have two quotes in the poem. The first is from Martin Luther King Jr.’s I have a dream speech and the second is the 5th line from Let America Be America Again. The last stanza is a bit of free verse stream of conscious in style.
Cold as a witch’s teat The phrase never made sense to me But the white powdery snow made for a pretty scene
White as a lamb’s wool I suppose if you kept it inside The snow lay upon the ground like a baby’s blanket
Quiet as a church mouse The winter landscape Muted by flakes of snow piled one upon the other
Everything stopped in its tracks More like hiding inside Forced to sit and stay, quiet contemplation on a winter’s day
This was for a dVerse prompt: write about snow as you see, feel or imagine it, in any form you wish, using clear imagery as crisp as fresh-fallen snow. I hope you enjoy!
“Shush! Shhhh. You need to keep up your strength. The ambulance will be here soon,” said Abi.
“What? And pay all those fees? I’d rather die first,” said Henrik. He laughed and then coughed up blood.
“Shhh!”
“It’s over yndling. Promise me, you’ll bury me with the lies I told.”
“Done for the greater good,” said Abi, taking his hand in hers.
Henrik put his hand over hers.
“United.”
She covered his hand.
“Committed.”
Together they said, “For the kingdom of -”
A group of masked men burst into the room.
“Hold it right there! ICE agents!”
At the other end of the room a door burst open.
“Freeze! FBI!”
Abi knelt with her hands up. Henrik lay where he was.
Then a man and woman entered.
“Gentlemen. CIA. These are Greenland agents.”
“Where’s the woman?”
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose up of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line from the song lyric. The song lyric line: “Bury me with the lies I told”. Hope you enjoy!
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