The Voyeur Poem 4.

The Heaving Heron

He said, “wait now.”
He flew over me, a robbing heron,
The sticky feeling.
He said,”wait now, it will begin to lessen. ”
He asked, if I had the eyes to decipher his message.
Like a biologist scanning for gemma individuals; amongst the anxious crowd.
Wait now, it will begin to lessen.
The copulation grimace…the grubbler inside of me.
I fall facedown in ripples.
I feed the fishes.
I babble to the azurite moon…and wrestle with beta and gamma.
I wash his feathers, to nestle in bereavement.
I’ve been jilted,
I’m Miss Havisham.
He told me to wait now,
In the hedged maze for tomorrow.
He told me it will lessen.
Photos:  Pinterest edited and blended (me)

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The Voyeur Poem 3.

Flowers For My Monster

Slay me, you did.
Torn up, in shards of          Unrequited love.
A glimpse into piercing        Titanium eyes, that spun in my Heady mid-morning.

My lavish body,
Rose up at your request;
To memorize your longing, as my own.

Will you not please me?
With your sharp mouth
That tears its own chords.

Inspire me, with my peaks of    Pink, smashed down into your         Words of singularity.

I’m still down, before you,
On my knees in my plead.
Beguiled, by your need.
Transfixed, as you vanish.

Poem and Photo: Naomi Saharski W.

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The Voyeur Poem 2.

Vamp Vera

Care, I don’t?
Oh, Vera…Vera…
How to adore you?
This tease is intangible.
You tell and I obey.
From miles away,
Shot and lit on a screen of lust; that is beguiling and fleeting.

Owe and Own…What is the difference now?
Vera, you have parted the turbulent waves, in my exhausted mind; that wrestles in dismay.

Your voice, a siren, a wavelength to vamp on my heart.
Will you colour up your words in tones of lacy blue or vivid velvety red?
Splatter—
from what I gave.
Oh, how I misbehaved.
Vera…Vera a mantra you have become.

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Poem by: Naomi Ruth Saharski W.                                    Art by: James Nares and Mark Rothko

 

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