Your Couch

I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials

I drank up a fifth instead
To drown the demons in my head
First I screamed and then I cried
At how you betrayed your bride

I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials

Oh yeah, my rage was quite obscene
No tears could ease the wicked sting
Its brown leather old and scarred
The choice wasn’t all that hard

I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials

So I plunged the blade right in
Then I repeated it again
Better the couch than it was you
It was the worst that I could do

I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
I’m out the door now, no goodbye

-gws

Conflagration

I ignite

The brush of your lips upon my neck
The reverberating purr rumbling deep in your chest as you press against me

The grip of your fingers tangling in my hair
Each sensation its own spectacular pyrotechnic show within me

The heat of your breath on my throat
The tension in your arms as you pull me into you
As if any room between us is too much

My lips swell from our eager, crushing kissing
Goosebumps pebble every inch of my too-hot skin
Sparked into existence by your exploring fingertips

My hands gripping your arms
Your hair
Your back
Your hips

My nails sometimes teasing
Sometimes scratching as I surrender to this tempest of desire

Sighs and moans
Gasps and groans
Hunger and need
Primal and demanding our surrender to it and each other

I have no desire to resist
Neither do you seem to

We are wonder and fire
Surrendering to this conflagration
As we quest to find in this consuming bliss
The evocation of when our essence
blazed as brightly as stars

-gws

In the Company of Poets

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I love being in the company of poets
Words flowing in raging eager rivers
Cleansing souls in their deep waters of truth
The air in the room stilling reverently
To allow voices to take up every bit of space
As the walls, like the audience, lean in to listen

Poets mold experience and emotion like clay
And through alchemy, transmute these raw materials
Into golems of living language
Puppeted by skillful tongues
In rooms filled with those eager to experience
The wonderment of such masterful magic

I am left in awe and enchanted with inspiration
Yearning to find myself an acolyte
Amongst a coven of gifted poets
Happy to surrender myself to their castings
Enraptured and enchanted again and again

-gws

Strange Bedfellows

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Joy and grief have made strange bedfellows in me
As my smile breaks so does my heart
I do not know when their synchronicity began
I do know I wish their relationship would end
Allowing me my lightness
Not pulled down by pain

This emotional eclipse as regular as heartbeats
A quiet walk in cool, cathedral woods
Interrupted by the unexpected sharp snap of a branch underfoot
Sending a flurry of birds screaming into the sky
Like storming clouds suddenly covering the sun on a perfect day

Of course joy needs pain so that they can tell themselves apart
Trauma and struggle have conjoined them in me
No scalpel skilled enough to detach them into their unique parts...
Or at least not yet

Behind each smile lies is a threatening tear
Every laugh has a sob waiting in the wings
I will chaperone this opposing pair
Let them fill me as they will
Sweet nectar and bitter pill
At least I'm blessed enough to feel

-gws