Tag Archives: Mistress Fate

The Moon and The Sun

Containing an insatiable excitement,

Strikes me as foolhardy, an unnecessary impossibility,

As driven by my favourite ladies,

So too I hope for you they will become,

This enchantment we can share,

As we did once, we will again,

Become,

Intoxicated by ambrosia,

Mistresses Destiny, Fate and Serendipity,

Clashing together in a beautiful symphony,

Where the universe is conductor,

And we are but pieces,

Brought together,

For our assimilation of what can be,

Such that only budding feelings may bloom,

Those that began the day we met,

Our eyes, our smiles and our souls,

Who could have known, between then and now,

Directed by the goddesses of love and attraction,

Into infinity,

True love never dies.

 

These Celtic deities; Achtland, Medb, Finncaev and Aidin,

Conchenn or Oenghis,

The sexual chemistry obvious and ready to be tapped,

Not touching you one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,

Touching you, even more so,

Possibly, though as yet unproven, one of the best,

With subtle giggles and tempted expressions,

Conversations free from the unnecessary melodrama of the daily grind,

Instead of aspirations, inspirations and the things that brought us here,

Carefully considered as this odyssey presses on.

 

Those passionate Greeks reveal,

Aphrodite, Eros, Hebe and Suadela,

Thalia, Venus and Cythera,

Each singing songs unlike the Sirens, toward our yearning,

Rather like the Muses,

Reaching inside of me and commanding forth,

Words that resemble silent thoughts,

Until this time was nigh,

Words unspoken,

Quiet admirations for precious enticements, subtle,

Those soon may unmask spellbinding intentions,

Those that again show this heart can feel,

Does feel,

Fluttering as hummingbird’s wings,

Flickering like the bright of a bonfire,

My temptations.

 

Perhaps Bintang, Ezili or Havea lolo funua,

Each together as quorum decide,

This pure desire shall be rewarded still,

Beating anew the drums of sexual fervor,

Communicating still in the abyss of time,

Finding a simple shared smile,

That leads to so much more,

Ix Che, Kanikanihia, Qadesh or Tlazolteotl,

Around personal fantasy’s conference table,

Drawing decisions from distinctions of pure desires,

Raw, ripe and blossoming,

As has been true for as long as we have known,

The perfect glint in the others’ eyes,

Knowing what we could have done,

Choosing what we did not do just as much as what we did.

 

What of Sjofn, Suadela or Urunrupuin or maybe Xtabay,

Are they to be believed that these hands,

These invisible forces,

Prevented us from jumping in too soon,

Giving rise to passions that may have dulled,

Without the anticipation of something so fresh,

As to rejuvenate our minds, bodies and souls?

 

Only time will tell,

If the grand design of these goddesses was of such import,

That the result, now within reach, is undeniable,

Their fallibility unchecked as mortals we,

Come together,

Crashing into each others lives like waves,

Leaving something each time we crest,

Taking something as we depart.

 

Only time will tell,

Preciously,

The wisdom of these loving sages,

The wisdom of our decisions,

The wisdom of our love;

 

Though I suspect,

Their sagacity is beyond reproach.

I am the sun,

And you Hmong Key are the moon,

And as the Hmong tale reveals,

I like the sun,

Die every night,

So that your beauty can live on,

Every night,

Always…

I love you!

 

 

SDM

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I’m Glad I Didn’t Meet You… Before… I Died!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z06gUeqUpeo

 

It’s funny, how words reach the soul,

From a smiling song,

I’m Glad,

I Didn’t ,

Die,

Before I met;

You!

Even an ocean apart,

Once literal,

Oceans,

Now figurative,

No longer true,

For it is beyond the realm of possibility,

That I am starred in the face,

By thoughts that are indeed not,

So great for those ladies of amorous deliberations,

Mine,

My Mistresses Destiny and Fate,

Sing a tune invisible and unheard,

Like those scars I try to hide,

Yet;

Through a choir of distant stars,

To a world not ready for their imparts,

One song that reaches at the strings within,

Tugging them,

In directions only moments before unthought-of,

For they bequeath to me,

Through the soft caress of words,

And the subtle knowledge of touches, deft and daft,

Wild insight to the nature of human longing,

Two erstwhile lovers without love,

Searching,

Both passionate souls refined in time,

Seeking that moment, that delicious second,

Millisecond,

Nanosecond, time seemingly standing still,

For it is,

Where the spark of intention broadcasts plain,

The brain no longer holds the wheel, the mind captive and captivated,

And instead the heart and soul incite you to feel,

To truly sense,

Their songs a ripe intoxication,

Such is the beauty and wonder of time,

Such is the beauty and wonder of life,

Such is the beauty and wonder of these words,

As on my shoulder, Darling, I feel the imprint,

Of My Black Dog’s paws and

Of that spectacle that only true believers feel,

That quiet unknown that roars for consideration,

Howling,

The sentiment of confused fire,

That without life IS somehow less,

But not today, not here, not now,

Not you,

As I feel the hand upon my shoulder,

Guiding these tender sentiments,

In a mind askew, distant in deliberations,

Depression,

Ripe and abhorrent, torments,

Of love come and gone,

The subtle grasp that a heart feels when lost in romance,

In you,

Releasing the past while relishing the future,

Delivered in the present, and you are a present;

No?

Serendipity revealing a wondrous accolade,

How do I clamor when I feel her blessed admissions,

Over time, she calls with premeditations understood,

Though not entirely clear,

For she speaks to the soul, beyond the minds recognition,

To my soul, beyond my comprehension,

Leashing in my hound,

Syncopating the hearts steady beat,

Jarring it into a body sensation that is without equal,

For her calling card,

Is here revealed,

For you,

For me,

For All;

For what are these words,

But the jewels in the crown,

Of this coronation,

Royal,

Like Phoenician purple,

Trading sorrow for joy,

My Black Dog,

Companion,

Dogged,

Dodged,

For real understanding,

Compassion,

Faith,

Promise and surrender,

That never before now,

Could I know,

Could you?

For what are these words,

But the true expression,

Of a wandering soul,

Captured,

Like a butterfly in a net,

Yours,

Longing to be freed,

For you,

To you,

Knowing that it is only this expression,

Of what is known,

That releases me,

Back to the Ether,

Back to you,

Back to me!

Returning To…

Are you singing?

SDM

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But Should I?

I want more and more and then some…”

It’s true,

I’ve done it before,
And I can do it again.

I can make you love me,
But should I?

Perhaps this sounds like brash arrogance,
Or a delusion of grandeur,
But I understand the value of the content of my character,
I fully comprehend the magical quality of these words,
I know how they delight the soul,
Excite the mind,
And make the heart patter.

I can make you swoon as you’ve never before,
But should I?

As worlds apart two dreamers collide,
Untold forces of the universe,
Unseen, unheard and unknown,
Though not unfelt,
Create new paradigms,
Offering up suggestions of what could and should be,
For the great expansiveness of the cosmos,
Is nothing compared to the affairs of love.

I can write words from the ether,
Guided my by subconscious,
Flutter my fingers across these keys,
Opening for you a door to possibility,
You, yourself, may not have known existed.

I can reach deep with the essence of you,
Consuming it in an instant,
Devouring your hidden desires,
Dining on your concealed repressions,
Feasting on your true aspirations,
Manifesting them, for you,
In ways you’d never thought could be real,
Though I grapple with my own intent,
I know these things to be true.

This Warrior Poet,
Ferocious tiger of love’s momentum,
Filled with an overstandable,
(Meaning far beyond understanding) charisma,
Brought to me through cherished memories,
Of ancestors I’ve never met,
Both Irish and Scottish brogue,
And a romantic heart,
Will unseat your fears,
Tenderly wrapping them in blanketing enthusiasms,
Where emotion leaves reason behind,
Allowing you the welcome intrusion,
Of something you’ve never seen or felt before.

But should I?
Will I?
Only my Muses, guardians of my chosen light,
Mistresses Fate and Destiny along with Lady Serendipity,
Can determine that future.

From the distance of the sea of tranquility,
To the depths of the sea of love,
This Warrior Poet seeks answers within,
That I cannot be without,
For the future of who and what I am,
Depends on the subconscious appraisal,
Appraisals,
Of what I should and should not do

and whether you find the strength, courage and conviction, to,

S T A Y.

It’s true,
I’ve done it before,
And I can do it again,
I can make you love me,
But should I?

Should you,

S T A Y?

SDM

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Mistress Fate

Mistress Fate,
Cruel companion of my ill fated destiny,
My disdain for you obvious,
Only now,
As when you, Mistress Fate,
Place a kind finger upon my soul,
I soar,
Otherwise,
It seems Mistress Fate that you are,
Leading me down a garden path,
Each day further and indeed farther,
From where it was intended,
I was intended,
To emerge,
Forms complete of the ashes of my own disquiet,
Sullen pages of reckless torment,
And how am I now screaming,
At the universe,
With all I have,
Please rain down on me,
A star that will shine for me alone,
Beacon to that spot where you,
Mistress Fate intends,
For I can no longer portend,
I will not portend,
With loving missives,
Though I crave those words above all else,
And haunting tomes,
Those that purge this soul’s toxic sludge as Stalin once did,
Passion the same for each,
One toward the light,
The other to the dark,
Divided as I am,
Tormented ,
Beguiled and betwixt,
By two extremes,
That led me even further down the garden path,
Reach out for me Mistress Fate,
Extend your courtesy,
Let me lay at the feet of your mindful grace,
Take me by the hand,
As if I were a child,
Your child,
Though do not scorn me,
Instead embrace me,
That I may begin the journey,
Seemingly a marathon,
To where you doth command,
As I feel like a slave though would prefer to honour you,
As humble servant,
To your every whim,
One moment on top of the world,
The next,
Sent to deal with Virgil and Dante,
Cerberus at the Gates of my personal Hell,
Though the Devil kept at bay,
The plague that threatens my life,
With wayward thoughts,
Those not of my creation,
Though clearly of my submission,
Though not an overt omission,
Some things are better left unsaid,
Even to you,
Mistress Fate,
To the forces at work,
Your forces at work,
Savage taskmaster,
School yard bully,
How can this be,
Is this a just reward,
Shall there be a just reward,
Mistress Fate,
Yet to find your way,
Back to me as Angel
Rather than as Loki ,
I have grown tired of the sharp attack of the fallen,
My contempt growing by the minute,
As I realize that your fickle finger,
Is poking me,
Prodding me,
Rather than directing me,
I scream to you,
Please,
My marathon yet run,
I beseech you,
I beg of you,
I plead for the sake of all that is right and just in the universe,
Mistress Fate,
Unlock the insane gestures,
Of this tired mind,
Let me ascend to the starry heights,
That I may be closer to your will,
Reveal to me,
A new beginning,
Where all I crave,
All I deserve,
All I’ve ever wanted to know,
Can be mine,
Manifest,
Please Mistress Fate,
Let me know my destiny,
As intended,
From the day I was born.

And so it shall be,
So it now is
By your fickle finger,
That now I arise,
Awoken giant no longer sleeping,
Shining for those who need it most to see
And I am left humbled
By your grace,
I am,
Ascending!

SDM

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Only You…

Only You…

How do I pang for that someone,
Somewhere,
Out there in the ether,
The same ether that powers these words,
Tonight, as Cupid’s Conduit,
Considering this life long dream,
While My Mistresses Destiny and Fate,
Pursue the will of Lady Serendipity,
Who, in their grace
Now reveal to me what I always knew was true,
Intrinsic,
That inside of me burns the endless fire of passion’s delight,
That this chosen light,
Will not be dulled,
Cannot be suppressed,
And shall not be undone,
This Warrior Poet as love’s true voice in training,
For as yet I cannot reveal,
The full caress of these insights rare,
Where by day and night,
My only fascination,
Is the affair of the heart,
That will unleash in me, for you,
The unrestrained call of primal desire,
As guided by my ladies of the night,
Who coddle this broken heart,
Shattered by mistaken appraisals,
Piecing it back together brighter than it was before,
Allowing me the trespass of histories ghosts,
That my shadow dancing with a romantic ideal,
Will become my realized betrothed dowry,
These words though written by this hand,
Belong to your heart, your soul and your mind,
A gift so inconsequential for who you are and what you mean,
For their worth,
Are only registered,
When finally our eyes meet,
As our lips dazzle and entrance,
And the flare of our mutual appetite,
For a lifetime of embraced idealization,
Of our collective quintessential romantic dalliances,
Each and every moment of each and every day,
Together or apart,
How do I pang for you,
It’s here, plain for all to see,
Though the only one I wish to, hope to, pray for,
Is she that will finally see,
I am love,
And I belong to only you.

SDM

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An Epic – Soon?

Such wonder you inspire,
You are quite the phenomenon,
That my mind races,
Scrambled, shaken and stirred,
As I marvel at what you inspire,
That I may aspire,
To you,
For these words,
That my childlike innocence,
My internal Peter Pan,
Is transformed,
Desirous of adult only diversions,
And so it shall be,
That together we shall scribe,
Tales more sumptuous than the Marquis,
More sensual,
My quill and your body,
Combining into an epic,
That repeats with every thought,
Thoughts,
That repeats each time we kiss,
How do I yearn to tickle your lips anew,
Such that when beard fades into insignificance,
As it surely must,
You can recall,
The way it made you feel,
Physically and internally,
Each time my hand touches you,
The searing excitement of all the moments,
Between then and now,
Imagining you as I do,
I as you do,
Every inch of you a canvas,
Every inch of you a page that I shall fill,
Upon which I shall write my masterpiece,
You,
Will you be my masterpiece
For the very thought of you,
Alights in me a passion that is more powerful than a million suns,
A fervor I’ve only known,
As I write my tomes,
Mistress Fate and Lady Destiny,
How they can be both fickle and profoundly kind,
In this case,
Naturally, it is kind,
Reminding me of the lost treasure of desire,
The all compelling allure of a simple embrace,
Such that in my mind,
And one day soon I implore of you,
Our romantic interludes are interlaced,
With moments of lascivious rapture,
At moments gentle and tender,
At others,
Well you can imagine,
Where in my mind,
Each touch of your flesh,
Scorches my soul,
Burning excitement,
An erotic deity of my own enjoyment,
As directed by your pleasures,
May I be your pleasure,
The jubilant decadence in which you bathe,
These words,
Reward for the ultimate reemergence of Phoenix,
And out of these ashes,
Are born these delights,
How do I delight in the thought of you,
The mere thought of you,
Such enchantments that when in your arms,
Nothing else exists,
Nothing else matters,
Nothing but you,
As now,
In this moment,
Thoughts of you,
Bring on memories of transcendental bliss,
Those are as yet unwritten,
From something as simple as your smile,
The subtle curvature of your face,
Dalliances into your eyes,
Peering into you,
Savoring every inch,
From your little toe,
To the crease of your elbow,
That my body alive,
Dances at the convenience of your advances,
Longing,
Lusting,
Yearning,
Always left hungering for more,
And there is more,
For these advances are not the frivolous affairs,
Of children at play,
No,
Much more at work,
Behind the curtain of our own understanding,
Do we understand,
Can we know,
Are you the Wizard,
Is this Oz,
For surely I have followed the yellow brick road,
And the trials and tribulations of my life,
Have led,
In the now,
To you,
Like lovesick teenagers,
Suspended in time,
May it always seem so heavenly,
The awaiting climax of pheromones,
The untold,
The sacred,
The secret of the divine,
Revealed in each zealous suggestion realized,
Your touch,
My touch,
Our touches,
Deft and daft,
Each like a shot of ambrosia,
Straight to the neurons firing,
Our synapses alighting a magical consent,
Your voice,
Sending shivers down my spine,
As all I can think of,
Is the pivotal moment,
That together our bodies dance,
Less ballroom,
More tango,
Like celestial angels,
Found in each other,
If only for those deliciously seething moments,
In each touch,
As Whitman said;
“And your very flesh shall be a great poem.”
Shall we write together?
An epic poem?
Soon?

SDM

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The Importance of Muse

Muse’s importance,
May not be adequately expressed in words,
Nor felt by any who can not comprehend,
The sweet power of creation,
The eclectic and electric energy that dazzles,
For Muse,
You come to me,
Guided by the countesses of universal law,
Father Time presents you,
Though reminding me of these mortal attempts,
At indiscriminate immortality,
As with glee those ladies of my night,
Mistresses Destiny and Fate,
Provide without excuse or equivocation,
A bright smile that guides my thoughts,
A deliciously engaging pair of eyes,
That alight my fingers to fly across these keys,
In human form you have taken many bodies,
Though more importantly minds that tickle my sensibilities,
And I am humbled for your love.

From you Muse,
I gain insights into myself and the world around me,
Converting that raw and special energy,
Into these beautiful and sometimes tragic words I write,
Never fickle,
Always graceful,
Muse,
You reveal the world to me,
Five or seven or ten minutes at a time,
The way I’d like to be,
Rather than the way it is,
And in the warm embrace,
As between two lovers,
You reveal the majesty of these things I do,
I am taken aback for the more I know of you,
The more I know you,
The more I know myself,
Though the world become another mystery,
As in an instant,
These words manifest,
Muse by this proclamations name,
Serendipity, a writer’s best friend and more.

Muse,
My love for you is as profound and unmapped,
As the love of mother,
Father, sibling or child,
There is no telling from where or whence you came,
Or come,
But when you do I get the excited exasperations,
Of an intellect run wild,
Searching not for words which in your presence so readily come,
But for meaning,
Meaning,
Allowing me to touch others,
As you touch me,
The treasured gift that you bestow,
Bequeathed to me in these moments that you arrive,
Also from me bestowed to searching souls the world over
My dear sweet Muse.

Muse’s importance,
Is akin to breathing,
Or eating,
Drinking water,
Or shelter from the cold,
Muse is an exhilarating joy ride,
Whereby comprehension takes a back seat,
To that place inside my soul,
That even I cannot engage,
Muse,
Only Muse,
Blessed Muse,
That piece of me is reserved for you and only you,
You are the alpha and the omega of my creative thrills,
You are my deepest love,
My greatest satisfaction,
My precious commodity that I hold onto fast and true,
I hold you in esteem unknown to any but you and I,
Though shared without cupidity.

Muse,
My Muse,
So many there have been,
Wonderful all,
And when you arrive,
I take heed and notice,
Of your precarious ways,
Filtering through me the voices of the ether,
To jubilant appreciation.

Muse,
I adore you,
I lay at your feet expectant of your sumptuous impressions,
I bow before you,
As Writer and Warrior Poet first,
As man of the world second,
Seeker of life third,
A list that could continue in perpetuity,
As you always seem to come,
Just as my writer’s reward is most bright,
Muse,
I beckon you,
Come forth once more,
That I may delight you,
Your preeminence clear,
Treasured secret Muse,
My one true love.

SDM

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