When you open a book, you open my life

When you open a book,
you open a pop- up of my life
or at least my breath
which seems to be lifting
my lungs up and back
in their timeless sea rhythm,
and I must be reacting
more obviously, breathing
a little too hard. Maybe
the sound of my breath
is catching yours or maybe
it's my chest moving more
apparently,

but I can't get the feeling
under control because
your voice is shaping words
in quiet rumbles with soft
precise authority
such that each syllable
vibrates your baritone
a little, and I almost feel
the mattress shake ever
so slightly, but it could
be that I just trembled
and a tiny quiver escaped
at the way your lips move,
open then shut and how
you hold the book
in your hands.

In any case you noticed
because you laugh gently
and skim the pages on me,
flicking them over my tummy
in a shuffle, covering me
with poetry and then
with you and a smiling
question

Oh you like being read
to, do you?

It's like striking a match,
and we press the words
between us like flowers

Dawn Day Break by the Bard of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate of Zion ,Stephen Darori

The day broke over your eyes, fluttered near
thick lashed, the iris leaf circled in bark.
I smiled upon your mouth full laughing, dear,
kissing the blood of lips against the spark
of dawn. This is how we wake, and thus begin
anew the path leading away from then
and how it was and what will be to win
nothing from her or him but start again,
believe that something pure can be exchanged
within the breath of hope awakened now
in battered souls that here are rearranged
from what once was, reshaped by questions. How
love do we know which way to go or be?
It matters not; our world is rich. Wait. See.

The Misplaced English Garden in Bat Yam by the Bard of Bat Yam ( #BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) , Stephen Darori( (@StephenDarori,#StephenDarori)

In Bat Yam is English country garden,
With flowers sweet and smells rare,
Where honey bees hum merrily
And butterflies and daddylonglegs are there.

It is misplaced Limmy Poppmy country garden
It’s near to god ( is it a woman?) they say
Where I can ponder for a while,
At the end of hot and humid Israeli day

It is the disrranged Zion country garden,
where the 32 varieties of Geraniums grow,
And the hoop oebirds are always singing
From dawn til evenings windless blew

My misplaced garden just a glimpse of heaven,
Beneath a sky of Poet Laureate ;s Zion blue,
It’s only a Garden of Eden country garden,
My sweated , grim and grimmed garden just for you

Titillation Arousal , a poem by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardofBatYam), Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori

The way you make me feel,
It shocks me.
Your heart speeds up,
Your eyes flutter,
Your  mouth opens
In wanton expectation 
Of your soft kisses,
And most shocking of all,
I lean back,
And your legs almost
Instinctively move apart.
It shocks me,
And I like it.

The daffodils fly upon the air , a poem by Stephen Darori (#stephendarori,@stephendarori), The Bard Of Bat Yam (#BarOfBatYam) ,Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion)

The daffodils fly upon the air,
And I lay among them there,
Bathing in the sun-drenched air—
Me and the daffodils there.

The daffodils in which I lie
Make me thing of you by my side.
And when I look up to the sky,
I see us there, flying side by side.

I can see your face in the daffodil petals,
In the sweet curve of the daffodil petals.
And your voice flies upon the wind
To tickle, like your hair upon my skin.

I will never forget the daffodil fields,
Nor will I forget the way you made me feel.
When, in the heavens I lay,
Even then, I will not forget our days.

Fifty Shades of Grey, a poem by the Bard of Bat Yam ,(#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori (#stephendrus, #stephendarori)

The missus bought a Paperback
down Dymocks, Saturday,
I had a look in her bag;
T’was “fifty shades of grey”.

Well I just left her to it,
At ten I went to bed.
An hour later she appeared;

The sight filled me with dread…..

In her left hand she held a rope;
And in her right a whip!
She threw them down on the floor,
And then began to strip.

Well fifty years or so ago;
I might have had a peek;
But Doris hasn’t weathered well;
She’s eighty four next week.

Watching Doris bump and grind;
Could not have been much grimmer.
Things went from bad to worse;
She toppled off her Zimmer!

She struggled up upon her feet;
A couple minutes later;
She put her teeth back in and…
Said…. I must dominate her!!

Now if you knew our Doris,
You’d see just why I spluttered,
I’d spent two months in traction
For the last complaint I’d muttered.

She stood there nude, naked like;
Bent forward just a bit ….
I thought what the hell,
Stepped forward,
and stood on her left tit!
Doris screamed, her teeth shot out;
My god what had I done!?
She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
“Step on the other one”!!

Well readers, I can’t tell no more;
About what occurred that day.
Suffice to say my jet black hair,….
Turned “fifty shades of Grey”.

The clock was ticking loud , a poem by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate Of Zion (@PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori

Last night I lay me down to slumber
but like a thwarted lover
sleep evaded me

I tossed and turned
and threw my cover

Thus unencumbered
I waited for the knell

of the mantle chime to caste its spell
The clock was ticking loud

A shadow passed by a cloud

And then upon my balcony
Singing a faint melody
Appeared a man of fantasy

He lightly touched my brow

With him came my dear old friend
The sandman; Knave of night
Who came to give me blessed sleep
to last ‘til morning light

The stranger by the sandman’s side
had moonlight in his hair
His eyes were blue like sapphire stars
His face was wondrous fair

Between his hands he wove a web
of spider’s silk so fine

Decked with jewels
A galaxy
The Northern lights entwined

“Who is this man of mystery”?

The Sandman answered clear
“I bring to you ‘the dream catcher’.
A friend I hold most dear”

“The dreams I bring where’re I roam
I carry on my back
And when I land to pay a call
they scatter from my sack”
“Dreams you have in plenty”
I heard the Catcher say
"Its my task to gather up
the dreams that go astray

"Some dreams linger through the day
Some dreams travel on
Some seem to vanish into air
When they end they’re gone

"Many fleeting dreams I capture
in my silken net
Some are dreams you’ve dreamed before
Some haven’t happened yet”

Entranced I was
by this vision master
Securely in his thrall
Like a dream spun in his web
Caught by his siren call

But the night was waning fast
Aurora’s trumpet sounded
And from my bed into the stars
My Dream Catcher neatly bounded

“I’ll come to you again my love”
He whispered ‘ere he fled
But my visage will have changed
When next I’m by your bed

I’ll gather you on my pale horse
when its your time to go
For what is life but dreams and mist
An illusive magic show"

Prince George Charming a poem by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam), Poet Laureate of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori

Oh love, why does he elude me?
I was born with cotton candy promises
I played with dollies and always he came to me
Tough, manly, knowing everything I didn't
In my dreams he'd pick me up from my squalid existence
Me hiding deep in my closet
Buried in old, caste off clothing
That smelled like my mother
And her passionate evenings out
Lily of the valley perfume

He would enter the closet
Smile with Colgate white perfect teeth
My fat body miraculously slim
My coke-bottle glasses and tinsel teeth
Gone to reveal the princess inside.
He'd take me down the secret steps
To where his black stallion awaited
Lift me up in front of him
An off we'd ride into a moonless night
The stars guiding us to a magical pleasure palace
Oh, there'd be tribulation on the way
He'd have to fight for my maidenhood
Protect me as no man ever could
And I'd fight by his side
We'd slay all hindrances in our path
The monsters
The goblins
The gnomes
The intolerant father
We'd scorn all who didn't understand
That this was LOVE.
He was mine and I was his
After months of trials and tribulations
We'd make it to his palace
But, what is this?
It's no palace
But a battered cottage
With a caved in room
And tumbling walls
The forest had reclaimed it.
'This is all ours my love, he whispered in my ear
It's not much but it's ours
And as soon as you get the kitchen in shape we can have hot
Meals.
And please, my feet, hurt
Could you take off my boots and rub my feet"
"Yes, gladly, my love"
I purred as I looked around the room
For a pot of hemlock

Gone with the trash ,a passing thought by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori, ( #StephenDarori)

You were a passing thought
Something interesting
To spend time with
And now you're gone
Move on

Get out of my head
I turn away from you
You mean nothing to me

If you had hurt me
I'd brush away a tear
I have no tears for you
No lingering smile

You were a stray cat
I fed in the night

It left at dawn
Gone with the trash
In the blink of an eye

A dull ache in my chest
An empty place where you were

A whispering sigh
A thought remembered

Your eyes are two dark pools of dark desire by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BArdOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) and Stephen Darori

You are so beautiful my love
Your eyes are two dark pools of dark desire
Waiting for love kisses of fire
Inside is your heart waiting
For always beats the passion of the drums from the beginning
Degustando the honey that drips from your lips
The world stops spinning embraced in your kiss
The moon shines on your soft face
Like a goddess in the night in my arms embraced
Together our hearts beating now as one
All night until sunrise
Like the waves crashing against the rocks
Making love during the night never stops
Looking at your two breasts I see
Like two ripe mangoes hanging on a beautiful tree
Your hair is like fine silk waving in the wind
Passion ecstasy beats us as it begins its climax
Never wishing to be released by its velvet grip
It loves the waterfall that crashes over us, opens lips
Soft moans of pleasure increase to As they get noisier, it seems
The most I could give you is the girl of my dreams
You are so beautiful my love
Your eyes are two dark pools of dark desire
Waiting for love kisses of fire
Inside is your heart waiting
Forever beats the passion of the drums from the beginning
Tasting the honey that drips from your lips
The world stops spinning embraced in your kiss

Within the Flame by the Bard of Bat Yam ( #Bard of Bat Yam) , Poet Laureate of Zion

Wringing my heart out into a bowl
All of it there of things you should know
Passions kiss staining your red tender lips
Our bodies entwined like two mangled ships

The sweet smell of Jasmine abounds in the air
Biting softly your neck you start grabbing my hair
Thrusting toward me you respond to affection
You begin to moan softly you find my erection

I begin gently stroking your crushed velvet lips
Now moist and eager I start to finger your clit
The spark has now kindled passions hot flame
You now let me mount as you whisper my name

Pulse picks up speed fanning the fire within
Never missing a beat I love you like sin
Hierarchy is given king pierces the queen
Back arches in climax emitting pleasurable screams

Collapsing we fall now we're gelled into one
Passionate quivering I fill you with cum
The result of that moment when I told it as so
Wringing my heart out into a bowl...

Mamamooshka ,Caress me in cinquième and teach me the gentle notes of your adagio kiss by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion)

Danseur noble, awaken   
this music box ballerina   
trapped   
in a figurante's tour lent...   
... light a fire in   
my enamel eyes   
and breathe life into   
my lithe frame   
so i might leave   
my matchbox stage   
to learn the choreography   
of your desires   
  
Caress me in cinquième   
and teach me   
the gentle notes of   
your adagio kiss   
until my hands roam   
in allegro restlessness   
when edged by   
the sweet friction   
of your balançoire embrace   
  
With a wind of the key   
am I driven to madness   
the now tedious tune   
fills me with deep despair   
longing to take hold   
of your outstretched hand   
desperately beckoning me   
to free you from your stagnant pose   
and I wanting to experience you   
in all the positions   
  
From an open window   
a gust of wind slams shut   
your melodious prison   
from behind billowing curtains   
like a phantasmic Giselle   
you leap into my waiting arms   
my pulse races as our skin meets   
pressing my face to your body   
I breathe you in   
while slowly lowering you   
reaching your soft lips   
with no hesitation we kiss   
my eyes wide open   
fearing you may disappear   
  
And i savour   
the affettuoso touch   
of my saviour,   
stirred to allegretto   
passion   
by the rapidly swelling notes...   
... rolling with its ominous tide   
to press, en pointe, into   
your strength and learn   
the lean lines protecting me   
from my anima inferna   
  
Surrendering to   
the sweet ferocity of   
matched demand, i can   
never be come prima   
knowing your bravura   
and how it moves through   
my softest places   
until i sigh an evoe   
of your praise   
  
The trepidatious smile   
of one experiencing freedom   
for the first time   
spreads across your luminous face   
pulling you ever closer   
in your ear   
whispering sotto voce assurances   
while my disquieted inner voice speaks   
is my magnetism strong enough   
to keep you?   
have I not merely constructed   
a larger cage?   
  
To hell with doubt   
we alone occupy the stage   
Eros is our Maître de danse   
our enchaînement by passion driven   
moans of pure ecstasy   
from our lips escape   
as our naked worlds collide   
like a curious child   
I leave none of you untouched   
  
Take me   
through the sensuality   
of our grand pas   
lead me   
to the coda's   
insurmountable crescendo   
leave me   
breathless, quivering   
needing   
more...please turn the key again 
...and again...

We're enveloped inside out the seal licked shut

We're enveloped 

inside out 

the seal licked shut   

Our hearts 

masturbating 

against the other   

Engorged veins 

pumping atrium 

oxygen-poor history 

oxygen-rich Musery 

Natural speech 

sustaining us   

  

Ideas coming Hard 

liquid Nouns 

aggressive Verbs 

groping Adjectives 

No holds barred 

framework   

Conjunctions 

Time and Space 

connecting us 

Forgoing metrical 

structured balladry 

Free Verse highway 

Peaked intensity   

  

Screaming 

into the mirror 

P' P' PO'ETRY y y y. .