Poetry
I cannot say
which is which:
the glowing
plum blossom is
the spring night’s moon.
~Izumi Shikibu
(974-1034)
Izumi Shikibu was a poet of the Heian court of Japan. Her diary chronicles her life and many lovers, including two princes. She was a rival of Lady Murasaki.
Of that Spring night he
promises
how it fills me with the fragrance
of longing.
I dream of blossoms falling
like rain: pink explosions
of his kisses upon
my pale skin.
~ Butterfly
Spring is a symbol for many moments in my life. The sense of longing; waiting for spring, longing for a lover, experiencing the cycle of seasons, and the return of spring to my heart. Awakening into the spring, once again, coming out of winter, as a woman into an erotic “second Spring” of sexuality. Everything sparkles with sensual aliveness! Orgasms are deeper, fuller, richer. Passion is heightened, lust for living in the present, being present, tasting the sweetness of life in the beautiful moment, like a flower, opening.You wake me,
Part my thighs, and kiss me.
I give you the dew
Of the first morning of the world.
~ Marichiko
Spring is early this year.
Laurels, plums, peaches,
Almonds, mimosa,
All bloom at once. Under the
Moon, night smells like your body.
~ Marichiko
You approaching me
With the smell
Of fresh cut
Morning grass:
My nipples turn hard.
~ Yuko Kawano
More than the color
It is the fragrance I find
A source of delight.
Who’s sleeve might have brushed
against the plum tree
beside my house?
~ Anonymous
{Japanese tanka poem}
Making love with you
Is like drinking sea water.
The more I drink
The thirstier I become,
Until nothing can slake my thirst
But to drink the entire sea.
~Marichiko
Black hair
Tangled in a thousand strands
tangled my hair and
tangled my memories
of our long nights
of lovemaking.
~Yosano Akiko
Summer Poems
(new poems written in the heat of love and summertime)
voluptuous night
ripe with our sweat and pleasure
summer has begun
his skin like honey
dewdrops, tears, nectar, semen
delicious pleasure
Legs trembling,
he asks
why desire is like
the summer heat.
The moon tonight
is the color of wine,
making me drunk
with his question.
this night, lovemaking
street lights blossom with desire
July fireworks
what else can we do
but ignite like stars
into the heavens?
~ Butterfly