WHEN

CONSEQUENCES

CONSEQUENCES

In that stutter of silence
when you find yourself abjectly alone,
does the rope of falsity within you untwist,
each strand morphing into a noose,
strangling your organs one at a time?
Is the tightening squeeze
of your duplicitous heart painful
and the slow crush of your brain
dizzying to your senses?
As your lungs are compressed,
do you clutch in vain at your chest?
Relief is dependent upon clarity,
recognizing the truth about yourself.
Choose denial and life continues,
but you are nothing more
than a dead man walking.

Nikki

TORMENT

TORMENT

If I loosen my control
hemorrhaging the skulking sea of tears
will I be able to swim to safe ground
or will the ominous pull of the water
draw me down into its depths
a spiral that knows no end
until the increasing pressure
crushes, constricts me
and offers up only my soul



Nikki

THE BRICK WALL

THE BRICK WALL

You seemed soft

Gentleness your hallmark

Tenderness beautifying your being

Light beaming on your smoothness

My fingertips glided along your exterior

Lightly touching the unblemished surface

Every contour caressed with delicacy

The silkiness filling me with serenity

You were a warm and loving cradle for me

Just as seasons change, so did you

Or maybe my fingers had grown calloused

Now finally rid of the hardened skin

Able to feel you with precision

Palms laid flat on your body

Fanning out to explore what I had known

My flesh bleeding from the rough texture

Crimson staining the brick you had become

A sanctuary no more, but a wall to avoid

Nikki

FLAME

Sensuously swaying

atop the peak

each move dependent

upon the air

surrounding it

Multicolored heat

flickering and dimming

before sudden stillness

brings it to life again

straining skyward

Radiating quiet warmth

with its spiraling flame

licking at the source

of its existence

in a dance of need

A beacon in the dark

at the mercy

of the imperceptible

melody of a breeze

that carries its fragrance

An intoxicating coupling

bewitching and beguiling

the whim of the wind

teasing and tormenting

flaunting its control

©Nikki

AN EROTIC PURCHASE

On Saturday, September 26, I was in Detroit, Michigan, and I attended an erotic art show called "Dirty Show." (dirtyshow.org) On display (aside from pasties on the topless women wandering around) were many pieces of artwork. Some creations were far more explicit than others, but I had to admire how clever and talented the majority of artists were. There was one painting I kept returning to. It simply captivated me in many ways.

By evening's end, I had purchased it. I could not take it home with me, because it had to remain on the wall until the end of the show's run. It would be shipped to me. And it arrived yesterday. The artist is Michele Parliament, and the painting is acrylic on paper...matted and framed under glass. I wish I could recall the title of it. All I remember was that it was "Cosmos-something" or "something-Cosmos." The size of it, with matte and frame, is 22" x 27".

I think it is beautiful, enticing, creative, and all-around pleasing to the eye. You will have to pretend that I took a decent photograph of it. ::grin::

STRIPPED BARE

This is an oil painting I did that I titled "Meditation." I was looking at this photo of it (I sold the original) the other day, and I decided to pen some words to go with it. Oddly, what I wrote was quite different from what I felt while painting this. Guess that's just the way things go sometimes.

COMPLETE

THE FAMILIAR STRANGER

Ohhh yes, this IS what some of us women are thinking and feeling when...

THE FAMILIAR STRANGER

It is a bed of clouds
between sleep and awake
on which I recline
nestled into the softness
foggy thoughts blurring reality
silken touches traverse my flesh
lightly awakening my nipples
into tightened peaks of sensitivity
wisps of heated breath precede
the encircling of each tip
between moist, pursed lips
but you are unknown to me
the only clarity is my body's response
a damp mouth scatters kisses
peppering my torso with sparks
lower and lower until my legs yawn
masculine hands lift my spread thighs
gently raising me to your face
a serpentine tongue slithers forth
parting the quivering pink folds
wetly exploring my sex
before plunging deeply into me
my moans break the silence
in this trance-like place
holding you to me, urging you on
with twisting lunges of my hips
feeding your hunger and mine
closed eyes make you a stranger
one who delights in giving pleasure



*~Nikki~*

THIS FLOWER

NEED

Occasionally, I have collaborated with Samarel~his images with my words. This is one such example.

NEED

ODDLY AROUSING

WEATHERED

I began this poem about a week ago. Two lines into it, I stopped. Tucked it away. And then it was retrieved to complete.

WEATHERED

You are the wind and the tempest and the sun
All too capable of wreaking havoc upon me
Or choosing to cover me in a blanket of warmth

I have weathered your stormy barrages of passion
Always returning to you out of a need to feel
Knowing you might be my safe haven for a time

But even your sunshine has blistered my body
The scorching pain of the burn radiating to my soul
And I plead for solace from the agony

It comes in the form of rain slicing through my flesh
Effortlessly splintering my bones into mere shards
Left bruised and wounded-yet still beating-is my heart

The lone reminder that I even exist


©Nikki