Thursday, October 22, 2009


his heart thumps against hers
giving her codes detected by her own,
signaling those passionate beating rhythms
as the satisfaction of them being there,
close and with undying passion...
the wind blows,
scattering the dance of leaves around them,
as if even nature notices the magic that they possess
such a glow,
the highlight of an otherwise day of normalcy
their love,
the simple focus of an invisible world.

(c) Pryncess Poetiq, 2009.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

The Brew

"When the wind through the window
Blows across your pillow
And tells you sleepin' is wrong
If love goes a thirstin'
'Till you feel like burstin'
Then nothin' but the blues are brewin'..."
--Billie Holiday and Louis Armstrong "The Blues Are Brewin'"

...And the brewage inebriates my soul

waiting for the moon to light the path to what makes me whole

because the answer lies no where else,

I know nothing but the pain

when your departure makes the rain

circling puddles of wonder within myself...

and I crave for you

like the hunger of a thousand taboos

stirring in my stomach, harsher than the butterflies,

no matter about all the wrongs

in my heart, you still hold a sweet little song

of what we have built, even if it's a passionate lie...

my blues are cold like the hue in which they resignate

as your heart hides and hesitates

to marinate beyond the reach of our fire,

fermented memories lost and blind

with covered eyes, and closed off mind

as Billie sympathizes my desire...

Satchmo's trumpet becomes my story

and I'm hoping the morning will bring me glory

because the brew is quickly turning stale,

silly of me, wanting what's no longer mine

still, I long for our sparkled time

knowing he is forever of no avail...

(c) Pryncess Poetiq, 2008.


the room is aflame
ignited with our passion
a hell of pleasure...

(c) Pryncess Poetiq, 2009.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Love Still...

mind is a rebel...
trying to run away
from the truth
I'm drowning
in the waterfall
above my head
it won't wash
this feeling away
starting to believe
that freedom
is just an illusion...
maybe I'm safe
from my weaknesses
my personal rain has fallen
in liquified incognito
and the shower
is too loud
no one
can hear my cries...
shows up again...
and I wish
and I crave
for my fingers
to go through those
soft braided curiosities
otherwise I dread him,
and it adds fueled irony
to fire
that slowly burns
into more emotional infernos...
am hopeless...
until perfumed lather
awakens my senses
kidnapping me
when my will is free
in temporary relief,
and away from missed memories
that I now possess
far and alone.

(c)Pryncess Poetiq, 2007.

My Man

butterflies dance beneath the surface of my body
at the mere sliver of you
just the crevice of you would be enough
whipped cream to an already sweetened dream..., man...
delectable in spirit and skin,
lips stung by beauty and masculinity
eyes, captured in deep thoughts and intrigue...
oh, man...
you go to my head
like ice cream swallowed much too swiftly
your touch causes my soul to freeze
into a realm of our togetherness and sensuality
and please don't let this thaw...
...yes, man...
i want you for infinities
long after the earth dies out and becomes dust,
and if we were two lonely grains of sand
i'd only hope we'd never be whisked apart... man.

(c) Pryncess Poetiq, 2009.