Romantic Poetess

Lighting The Fire Of Love


Minnesota, USA
December 13
Poetess, Fire Starter
Mystic Creations
My intention is to write poems of love and loving while fearlessly pursuing my hearts desire. My email address is:


DECEMBER 5, 2011 4:50PM

Warming Trends

Rate: 26 Flag



A dragonfly landed on my shoulder at a tattoo parlor in Haight-Ashbury

It cast a shadow that moves me to hover

In soft, flowing, iridescent cloth that shimmers in sunlight

As the wind causes marsh grasses to bend and sway

And aspens to swirl and swish

A mix of cobra hiss and a copperhead rattle

And memories of holding a sea shell up to my ear

Memories of a man who held me tight under his weight

An ex-lover who let me steal the color green from him


I was the one in his trap

His scent…autumn leaves and mold

My fingers grip his soft silky cheeks

My hands pull tight on his

Short, curly topped, sausage shaped hair

I try to push him off as I wheeze with the strain of his weight

I was a a chestnut chickadee then

And hated being bumped unexpectedly

I stood on one leg, then the other

Droop and sag

Droop and sag

I keep the green and paint him

The peachy, pinky, orangey ochre of fall

To replace the air pressed out of me

I take deep abdominal breaths to feel the chill of winter

While biting into him I imagine

Biting into juicy pomegranates, sweet cherries and plums

I become a radiant mirror

Reflecting the vibrations from his eyes

A never-ending spiral of all the places we have been

And yet we never get to see

I charge my hands and warm the spot that aches

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spirals spirals spirals.....jewel colors and tastes. Thank you!
Shit. Now u=bigtime poet. Poetess.

U now green? Bump gave u that at least.

Green is a nice color. I hate it personally.

peachy, pinky, orangey ochre of fall sounds better.

White and black are the best colors, but who likes white as a color? It’s all colors. Black u know
About I am sure.

The spectrum of color is a fine invention by Whomever. God or Goddess. I imagine them as zeus & hera these days, arguing over who=best when the answer is Nothingness, the vacant pregnant abyss.

I suppose a womb is a fine thing, but then again so is a , ha, phallus.

I wish I had a poetry assignment .

I like heine now, since yesterday.

 The Home-coming, Poem 74; also in Poems of Heinrich Heine: Three Hundred and Twenty-five Poems (1917) Selected and translated by Louis Untermeyer, p. 134
 What! Think you that my flashes show me
Only in lightnings to excel?
Believe me, friends, you do not know me,
For I can thunder quite as well.
 Wartet nur! [Only Wait!] in Poems for the Times
"An ex-lover who let me steal the color green from him". What a great line. You are the best at writing erotic poems, the best!
I hope you stole the colour green.. now people can look at you in sheer envy because of your beautiful words.
[r] Poetess, you are making me a believer in reincarnation and I suspect you hold the record of past living creature lives you inhabited. :) libby
oh good one Romantic Poetess;

for all my pledging to adhere to OWS,

you have opened the window

for something i have longed to draw in

to couple with one of yours:

i title it ‘CAESARENA’

smoke spouted from her nostril &
gold coins with august profiles
flourished in flight to the ignition
of her T Bird
patting my knee
her torso rotating

gazing over the middle hump
fall fashioned and lipstuck
mouth hovering
red leather seats
giving off Gorgio heat as rain streaks
the windshield & her creamed coffee marbles
to sounds of violineated Penny Lane

My bare left leg is muddied
blood fresh from the game
(she liked them fresh from the game &

“I need more gasoline
Sit still
Be right back”

the gas nozzle rankled the tank
speeding liters like her libido

my lord!
Beautiful, vibrant work. The last line struck me quite hard.
chestnut chickadee
hope you caught your breath...

wonderful ride

(sausage shaped hair?)
Hmmm. Sausage shaped hair. Very sexy somehow, and interesting. You are living the life, Poetess.
Can autumn leaves and mold be a smell that is romantic -- oh, you bet....very nice.
Maybe you stole his green aura? Beautiful. Absolutely.
ha, we got ume away from his damn important ows that
he eschewed us all for. what good did it do him//?
now here he is back where he started, coining new phrases

to whom i expect he oughta write a post. with all them little
toys in it. i hope. hint. leave chomsky at the gate, ume,
and rush headlong thru it cuz the storming blitzkrieg
is just beginning. stop watching football.
stop eating food, and eat some
damn water. drink yer food
from now on, in preshrunk
which if Rp is nice she gonna send to u in a care package.

gonna be raw and bloody. she will finish her poetry class at the
head of the class. i think. maybe. unless
sappho the cleopatra worshipping
aphrodite comes back soon.

ha. who she? i dunno.
Between Ume and JME, I am agog.
Thank you all for your kind comments.
Love always, RP
Anais Nin is so smiling down on you, R.P.! You've seen her work and gone several miles better!

Duly warmed!
a radiant mirror ~

gets things warmer, double time, goddess ~
Wow! Easy there, Tiger! What a powerful piece; beautifully written. R
Hey kindred soul, loved it, keep on writing. You are good. And all the descriptive words that come into play in this piece are like the perfect pieces of a puzzle that fit together. R
This is somewhat violently innocence or dollars, still biting and oh the ache. Well done.
The colors of autumn are brought to life here along with the intensity of its cool air
"Short, curly topped, sausage shaped hair" I would love to run my fingers through that.
ms Ro Po ... i've been looking everywhere for my green ... i am warmed even more than the usual picturally and by your hot-breath writing ... luvya, lew
Oh my...your like holding a wonderful sea shell to my ear and my mind.
The sounds I hear and that of the cosmos.
Seductive, erotic, visceral with intention and excitement.
I think I need to go find my husband!
I love all of the senses you used in this poem especially the foods! Quite a yummy poem!
Lovely, particularly this:

"A never-ending spiral of all the places we have been

And yet we never get to see."
Every line flows with a beauty of its own, Poetess. Your writing is like silk around one's neck, wrapping itself delicately to awaken sensations to be relished.

Great stuff. You have true facility. The way you use color, the very texture of image and sense, is quite stirring -- you have touched that place behind the heart where your soul, its outer membrane, urges us to these special places.

I know that you will keep on writing and would definitely buy your collections. Please keep on with your writing.

I hope some day to finish my current project. The thought of putting it right here, with people who might like it, has edged its way up my spine -- yet caught in the brain stem, like talk radio thoughts. There and gone. It is late.

Be back with us soon, OK?