Would it be possible to seduce you with words, with written fantasy, with my erotic day dreams with you touching me. Hands soft and welcoming, yet rugged and masculine. Your lips covering mine, sublime daydreams that began with intoxication of your sound, the way it sounded as your body touched mine, chest to breast, less […]

iT’s yOu

It’s You

Is it possible to love a man

who lives only with the eyes he gave me

to see him from within

from the course of his power

the decision of mind

his grind

is not seen as best

but the test in wrong

is the road to right

At night

I wish to hold his hand

to be at his side and take the stand

if they choose to judge his journey

to be his jury

to persecute him

I will be his defense

use the precedent

to make his majesty, a future

magnet to labels of magnificent

the power in his raised voice

and my choice

to quiet my fears

to use my past days, months, years

the many triumphs and failures that got me here

right here in this moment

to be the rod, the pillar, the strength so he can grow

with support I tell him he is worth my past pain

to arrive at today

so that i can teach in my actions, words the way

that love can transform the soul

how it can heal the wounds of emotional battles

fill that hole

left behind from

love gone wrong

how it writes lyrics to that song

that becomes the therapy

from my tainted memories comes no sympthay

or empathy

from the wells of tears

I have already shed

the many negative beast

in my past interior that fed

from the shadows that lurk in the corridors of a heart broken

whispers of hate spoken

from within

the darkness that has swallowed the light

i will fight

that negative so many have seen

the us that that will reveal ur emotions no longer  travel alone

we are a team

the risk in loving you

is unnoticed by my heart and I have grown to many days in these years that got me here

to ignore your flaws to believe in fantasy

the reality can be told

in your arms, the piece that was gone, missing, or maybe just incomplete

is now home

and you hold that part

and the life i see

can not be the same without you

and your name beside mine

i find no shame in a day gone

it’s about today

the games you play

the way you say

the things that touch me at the core

i need it, I need you

I want more

than a memory could provide

we have come together now

and I can’t go back

can’t divide the yesterday from to day

to trick my mind

make my eyes blind

it wasn’t fiction or make believe

don’t deceive my heart

to just leave

what you don’t want to feel

when it’s real

it won’t just die

it will hold on to the hope that is left

hope is alive here within my pulse

vibrant and able to go on

this heart pumps it’s faith to all of beginnings

to only find the end in truth

mine is this…

It’s You

Again I Hope For Love

My heartbeat should be weak from the wounds sustained from the past wars on the battlegrounds of love. Life told me so long ago that love would wound my understanding heal my doubt shake my core and displace my faith if I was not careful. Not alert and able to shift through the forest of traps set to blind the eye and confined the mind but I felt that I was the one that could heal this love lost to my world. I could not be afraid and instead be brave. I could take each scar and mark it a journey of survival skills to protect those I love.. but I was wrong.. Love had taken me hostage and made me its biggest customer. I was a fiend. didn’t see the road as dire, didn’t see the heat as fire to hot to touch, No love had me completely done,addicted and restricted to its touch, favor and release. Love had divided my past and my present and made me an enemy of its state. I didn’t want to just love for the way it felt, but the way it would transform, and move the world to beauty. I played no games with this emotion that makes you want to take back the days past and find a new set of pages, that read forever to a beautiful never, locked in a paradise and full of faith in that power. That love made power that reunites belief to action, action to tenderness., In that paradise built on and made of love, where the fruits of its brilliance give life and misery just deplete the nutrients of our environment. Again I hope for that power to make me its victim, its fiend, a strawberry for the merriment of really experiencing it’s euphoria. No lost in the moment if that moment is complete with real, ideal love you can feel. Peel back it’s layers  deeper and deeper with the flesh becoming more vibrant, and pure, more succulent, more perfect in the imperfections than in the perfect parts of it. When it penetrates the systematic thought of basic and normal it expels individual one of kind smells that emanates from the flesh of the union and the intimacy is a pungent odor. It’s candor and abrupt intoxicating scent and skins is seen by eyes that are blind to the retina only able to be felt within the energy of its pulse it’s rhythm as our voices permeate the air. Grasping to the waves of sounds, it takes over the heart and expands ours senses to the mindless abrasions of  past attempts on hoping for rare in the common. Again in his eyes I hope for love. I hope for what I had not yet experienced in completeness. I always hoping have opened my door for it for the love that settles inside of you and gives you wings to fly, above the hurt  propelled by faith and carried by us.

The First Glimpse

     Are these just my thoughts, is it my beliefs or should it be my judgments that are listed in a rant of  personal experience. These are my first thoughts as I begin this new “possibility for greatness”. So many people have begun to blog; documenting and chronicling their unlimited thoughts and what each defines is oblivious to me. I am at a lost to the true goal of my new possibility and I wonder without a direction how far can I actually travel.  At the exact moment I felt as though I was bamboozled by the content, pretense, subtext or plain ole subject, I just said run with the wind. Just like that “bam”, a “Positive Peyton” had been born and I was on the road to changing the world, one blog at a time. I had begun to ask myself why if the rest of the world could be so arrogant to think the world wants to hear there rants and raves on any subject or situation why not me.
Okay so that is not exactly a true depiction of what actually happened. Okay so it was more like…
                 A Joss Stone compliation was creating euphoric energy by use of my ears, a rapid beating heart was beginning to tear when I thought of the man I shall call my “Urban Prophet” and as the first liquid promises escaped my eyes, I was sure that somehow today was the day I was strong enough to do something different. I was going to be courageous and choose happiness, and this was the second step. The first step was admitting that I had changed, that I had now begun to see the world in a different way. I was now an adult and a chapter in my life had been sealed, signed and delivered to the publishers and I might as well admit that I was ready to complete the transformation to “Spiritually Lead Bad Girl Almost Reformed”.

    Not many years ago I dreamed of being a published writer. I wanted to tell the world stories of fictional love affairs between women. Yes I was speaking from experience and yes I “WAS” a lesbian, okay well that’s what I was calling myself when I was diving between shaved legs and embracing endless episodes of  ”The L Word” and kissing full lips that converted me from men to women at least temporarily at first glimpse.

I suppose that and my endless run ins with narcotics, r and B, and devastatingly tempting sexual experiences I deemed myself a “Bad Girl”, oh and the fact that I have for myself created a criminal record that reads… she is only bad enough to get misdemeanor charges.  A true lady rebel I am.

    My desire to write fictional novels of lesbian love began as a sizzling hot idea about a good girl turned lady lover and somehow ended up being kidnapped and as the woman with beautiful lips left my world, so did my desire to finish the book that left me confused. So many hours of writing left in a cold file labeled “Within Dark Hands”. Yet writing still was in my heart and although I have ignored the calling to tell a story, I still dreamed that maybe one day I would be courageous enough to reach higher than he stars and go for a heroic attempt at using my love of words to make a change in my world, and on some level touch the lives of others as well.
     
 Well the desire lead me to write my own story, and believe me it’s not a bad idea, and that idea is in the works. Yet days have gone by and my desire to write has been absent, the only thing present in the corridors  of my mind, the one thing that survives both good and bad days it seems was love. Love survives my thoughts daily and I realized that I needed to release the unspoken pledges of forever I felt for my “Urban Prophet” in the lessons that I have learned in knowing him and applying myself to every new activity, goal or experience. This is the first of collage of hidden glimpses into the entity that is my soul and spirit.

So it seems that love is a  true friend, surprising you with  kind thoughts, moments that are truly miraculous and a new belief in everything. So here we are beginning this new journey.

I will share that I am afraid that I might love documenting the random moments of love and pure wonder I feel almost every day. Is it possible that love can create a life, an income? Is it possible to be an employee for love, working diligently to promote it’s power? When asked for Industry: Can I mark Health and Wellness, For occupation: Love Advocate; Duties: Creating and building more understanding  to the survival, belief and commitment to love in romantic, familial, and professional relationships.

Until the next time
Nya Monea is Duality Defined