Naked Reflections Poetry: Shameless and Unapologetic

Category Archives: Poetry

How Tuesday Went Down

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213 Honey Brown

Here’s how Tuesday went down

He came home early

We slid into bubbly bliss

His midday heat

Hotter than bath water

Skin scorching sin

Bubble dancing with each kiss

Soapy slippery

Legs intertwined

As fingers yearned for touch

Backs touching opposite sides of the tub

Eyes fixed

Trance inducing

One strawberry

Two sips of Stella

Tongues tasting sweet temptations

Mixtures of peach, strawberry, and lust

Pulling me into his warm embrace

Almost floating

Lighter than air

Then weighted down

His magnetic field captured my senses

Rearranging the equator of my ecstasy

Simultaneously splashing

in cum-tainted water

over loud love vapors of an afternoon treat

213 Honey Brown

That’s how Tuesday went down.

Stream of Unconscious Truth

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sparkle shore

This poem doesn’t have to make sense

It is mine

You, willing observer

of my subconscious tableau,

take snapshots of what is real to you

But know nothing

even resembling the truth.

My truth.

Angels danced on waves last night

and carried a melody to my ears.

A woman’s pink bandanna covered her cancer

but pain shouted through her eyes

shallow, searching, sad.

One hungry man got a free book from me today

His mind was starving more than his stomach.

I could not give him a dollar

My change is not spare

But I freely gave him my words and my gift.

The soles of her shoes, worn down

Like the body she dragged with them

But her heart beat stronger than mine.

Whatever hides under his hat

Sails on ocean currents

and washes up on foreign shores

deserted islands

where the story

resounds in drum beats

in wrinkled brows

where truth

tells itself through pained whispers

and weighted cries.

My poem is my story

untrue

but it happened

so it is.

Come Home Early

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sexybathtublegs

213 Honey Brown

How may I serve you?

Today’s special:

“Come Home Early”

I unlocked the front door

Hang your jacket

And free your hands

Unwind your mind.

 

Bring the chilled glasses

from the freezer

Take the strawberries

and whipped cream

from the refrigerator.

 

Come to the bathroom

Where relaxation awaits us

Sensual and soothing

Sage and vanilla

Candles dance with

Wind chimes in the distance.

 

Place our glasses and fruit

on the bathtub tray

Pour us a little Stella Peach

While I perch on smooth porcelain

In my lavender panties and bra

And your favorite silver spiked stilettos

Before I watch you undress.

 

Remove your clothes

One piece at a time

I appreciate every sexy detail

The clank of your buckle

That rush of your zipper’s descent

The whispering fall of your crisp shirt

And that final sigh

before you pull down your shorts

Releasing caged desires

Come to me baby.

 

Standing to weaken your naked strength

My feet slip out of each shoe

Sauntering into your personal space

Removing my bra and panties

While I kiss your lips like bait.

 

Picking me up

My legs straddle your waist

Open arms envelope your neck

You slowly step into the water

Easing us both down gently

into bubbly bliss.

 

 

 

My Sister’s Song

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me and pammie

 

I had the dimpled cheeks

But I dreamed of being just like my sister

Who admired me

She who brought me sunshine on smiles

Thick hair haloed her angelic face

If you don’t have a loving relationship

What you have is worthless

We are tighter than shoestring knots

“Stop saying what I was thinking,” she whined

She sees Mommie now, mirrored reflections

I walk her journey on legs that cross generations

“Ohhh, I’m so proud of you,” Mommie beamed

 

Isn’t it incredible how we both became so much like her

Isn’t it incredible that we know truths she never shared

Isn’t it incredible that she knew we would always have each other

Isn’t it incredible that we now hold memories

In safe places like

Within the wrinkles adorning our hands

In the curl of our smiles

In golden nail polish

And in bubbles bouncing through fluted spirits

 

Tears may still spring out of nowhere

And  hurt runs deep like an oak tree’s roots

But our mother’s love is deeper

It’s the sound of my sister’s song

I see and hear Mommie in her

I believe I gained two for the loss of one

I’m not afraid anymore

Of the loneliness

That grief brought

Because as soon as I think I may be alone

In darkness

Or sadness

Or in the ache of not hearing her voice

I remember that I have my sister

My root holding me steady

My blossoms coloring my face

My song in the wind

Carrying me always.

 

 

 

 

Live Write or At Least Die Trying

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About this poem…

I wrote this poem at Jack Grapes’ class yesterday using the Inverted Pyramid approach.  The lines in bold were to follow a certain formula and were to be unrelated, and then they should lead me into the poem that would have purpose and direction.  As you can tell from the bold lines, there is no connection from line to line, but I pull them together through the remaining lines of the poem.  Jack said this was one of my best poems of all that he’s read.  That was an unexpected compliment because it was such a new style and tone for me, and I was feeling a little unsure.  I have to remember, I am a writer and I can write shamelessly.

Spilled milk puddles inside dents in our wooden table

I would pass out from fear, if an owl or bat were near me

I love in colors on canvas like melodies in a song

The envelope’s window shows my name and my stress

Reading unedited writing on Facebook poetry groups

is like nails scratching the chalkboard

My passion is lava fire scorching his skin

Mommie fussed, “Because you need to eat a hot vegetable with dinner!”

Sunset at seven, simply stunning

I have more to offer, but you don’t deserve it

Mommie used to say she had claustrophobia and could not go inside

In my mind men are more responsible

In my mind I can speak truths

In my mind he dreams and seeks

In my mind it doesn’t hurt to say it

In my mind agreement is easy

In my mind I laugh loud and free

In my mind my feelings come first

What matters to me

Passion

Vacations

Music

Poetry

Memories of Mommie

My life’s delete keys for daily bullshit

I can’t replay spilling milk as a child

But I can remember

I can’t replay asking my mother to cook the salad

Because I hated hot vegetables

But it brings laughter

I can’t smell her Red Door perfume

Unless someone else is wearing it, then tears fall

I can’t open mail with excitement

Unless I know who’s finally wearing the man-pants

Who escapes claustrophobic doubt

Who opens eyes to unchartered possibilities

And steadies his feet for change

I can’t even write an unedited love poem

Not even on Facebook

Until this fear floats away.

 

 

Little Love Note

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shore

Let me fall into your love song

Hear your symphony

Ride with your rhythm

I need to be the color on your canvas

Glow-in-the-dark shades

Stroking your masterpiece

Fold me between you and your shirt

Keep me safe inside your pocket

Where I can hear your heartbeat

Where I know your skin is close

And I can still feel the sunshine

On the other side.

 

Stash me in your private collection

Sneak peeks at me through the day

Take me with each footstep

Kiss me with every word

And I promise to be

Wherever you are

Someday.

Loud Silence

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silence not golden

Your silence yells at me

Abuse to my peace

When I hear your thoughts

Venom erupts through your eyes

I know that being with you

Is like swimming in a sea of flies

Prepositions in Passion

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passionate heat

In my thoughts

On my mind

Within my space

Around my house

Throughout breakfast

Up my legs

Into the heat

Between my lips

Under my skin

Beside my body

Through my clothes

Inside my walls

Against my spot

Beneath the table

Above the couch

During dinner

Over dessert

Among the sweat

Down my thighs

Upon sunrise

In deep passion

Beyond my wildest dreams.

Crush Me into Love

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blue dawn

Discombobulated emotions

Anticipating the smallest things

What will he wear

What will he say

Where will he be

How does he hold his #2 pencil

If we speak, will he see my lips quiver

The gloss sticking

My tongue tricking

Eyes deceiving me

Giving away my desire

Hands fumbling

Betraying my sense of calm

Unable to maintain steady ground

On warm wobbly legs.

I want to be

Smashed

Rendered weak

Under his finger-tipped touch

His unrestrained kiss

His intentional embrace

Tenderly carrying me into the blue

of his music

Where orange blossoms caress us

And the wind sings silent melodies

Between us.

Is this called a crush?

Crush me under his passion

Asphyxiate me in all that is him

And if this is more than a crush

Then crush me

Into love.

 

 

 

Wounded Woman

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peaceful scene

Healing begins

on my naked

spiritual wounds

with a tenuous band-aid

and unwavering faith

that I am whole again.

Knowing even the smallest peel

of the plastic

around the pain

can unleash volcanic

soul eruptions

turmoil

tension

misdirected blame.

But the woman responds

not the little girl

to claim wholeness

wellness

strength

and watch faith

place a permanent seal

over spiritual scars

that sometimes

bleed silently.