The rain on his belly tastes hot and sweet and you keep drinking
Would you like to feel that I am here / to catch your tears with mine? / Would I see your smile if I told you / that you fall on me divine?
No-one ever thinks to look up at the windows.
The most beautiful place in the world is Brussels; a city where the medieval art is apocalyptic, and tattooed women are adored. I lived in the Sablon, the funky artists’ quarter of tiny meandering lanes and gabled houses. My home was built in the 1500s and held five crooked storeys ; my room had blood red walls and huge ivory windows that looked out over the cobblestones. I would sit for hours on end at my windowsill. My street was full of shadows and history, first listed on city maps in the 1100s and graced with both a Flemish and French name, like all streets in Brussels. Rue des Chandeliers / Kandalaarstraat was so magical that stories were delivered to my windowsill, and I spilt my ink with joy. My username comes from here: bell is from the two fourteenth century churches placed at either end of my alley, which would ring out the hours with medieval musicality. Musker is from the Flemish slang for girl, maskker ……and that was me, a dark eyed woman with joy in her heart and ink on her fingertips, watching the Flemish sky and laughing.
She always understood where autumn went and why it came back
Another of my favourite poems. I wrote this poem after being out in a glorious rainstorm in October2008.
Another of my favourite poems. I wrote this poem after being out in a glorious rainstorm in October 2008. Please do not print or repost this poem anywhere without my permission. This poem is from my book, Heaven’s Champagne. / Order from Amazon.com This poem is registered at the Canadian Intellectual Property Office as part of Heaven’s Champagne.
its in all that’s ever thought and every smile youve seen / in every tear you tasted and everywher…
a secret that everyone knows
her mouth tasted like autumn
But when will you understand, / my Forest Sovereign, / that they are crying because / you drink me in / but then send me on my way?
Inspired by the fabulous Linaji and her inspiring poem Tenacity. Linaji is a huge source of inspiration and reflection for me on RedBubble, and I’m thrilled to collaborate with her and this marvelous piece of word weaving. Tenacity There is a certain muscle in his heart, / Tenacious as hell, / Resolve with a heady mix of / Obligation and duty / Spilling over / To a dance of postponement and restraint. Yet a melding of dire consequences / That broke the camels back / Does not phase him / Situations that kill others hopes and dreams / Pass over him like duck water down his back He may swim in murky waters and smell the fires / Burning / But he does not flee / No, he feathers his nest even more now, / He goes about the duty of deliverance. / He has responsibility to thank for his persistence / Continuity a road well worn by his journey / And, / Agreements / Within / His only truth sometimes / Sustaining a position he burrows into / Roots growing fast and strong / Even if everything around him begins to rearrange themselves to a different set of beliefs / Revealing a different future / He remains a constant unto himself And sometimes I think this will actually work / Due to unbending intent / The broken pieces will just be ground / Down to dust particles / And change winds will blow them away What remains by his side is of his own doing / Scattered remnants of pain and pleasure / Leading the charge with flags flying / ‘We bring you liberation and freedom’ / However, in the charge there are many deaths and wounded inflicted by this Badge of honor / Worn with a mighty cause / His happiness or so it would seem. That is the beauty however of this beating heart / This righteous army / Swelling round the wounded and the lost / As the dust settles and the ‘liberators’ are reaching out / With grace / Smiling / Picking up the pieces with tenderness and tears We are convinced sometimes perhaps it is best / To remain here / In the place where one was born / Where one was once happy and playing as a child / Remembering only the sweetness of growing up / In a neighbor hood that had many stories of joy and / Pleasure. / So we take the liberators hand with a smile / Because now he has given us a piece of chocolate / With almonds / Something we have not had for a very long time. Linaji 2009
i have a story… a beautiful one… but i can’t share it with you
12.o2.2oo8 a beautiful story . some stories are better left untold… .
the color of my dream i woke up to this morning…
ooo… it’s june already… just because on / o6.o1.2oo9 .
i promise to think of you when the rain comes…
o6.o2.2oo9 seriously / i just walked out of my shower / with this letter i wrote in my head… / i’m still dripping .
o6.16.2oo9 / painting a dance in the rain… .
Breathe in the pristine air / Embrace it with open arms / Innocence is but a breath away / Take that last step
A piece i wrote in early June 09 / and several pieces on here (Rain by Julialala) reminded me to finish it off:) / . / Thanks to the groups; On youth, Freedom in Words and Art, Up and Coming Writers and Light in the darkness for featuring this piece
A poem I wrote earlier today after being out in the rain.
Please do not print or repost this poem anywhere without my permission. A poem I wrote earlier today after being out in the rain. This poem will be part of my next book, Across The Innerverse.
Lovers laying down pretense as their pet project / Wanting and seeing new parameters to feel in
I have about 3 poems that I may take to do some slam poetry with.. this is the newest.. inspired by my life in the last few.. / It’s just that sometimes.. I am so beyond where I was yesterday.. even.. / My desire is to keep it simple ..my life, I feel surges toward my destiny are kind and not full of old stories and old ways of expressing love.. I feel expanding is beyond what i saw one day as relationship.. but I am not sure how the new one looks quite yet.. but it is soooooo coming.. and it is not suck in modes of just physical exchange.. I don’t know it is like the teachings of Tantric Practice which in this reality uses sexual energy and not the culmination of the act.. to take you to higher perceptions. this is a bit about Tantric beliefs of which I am gravitating towards _ What is the exact relationship between Tantra and sexuality?_ / In Tantra, sexuality is total and filled with bliss. However, Tantra is not about sex. Sex practiced or performed in Tantra is what is taught by most teachers of this spiritual lifestyle. In Swami Virato’s experiential events sexual ignition energy is used as a tool to raise the Kundalini, or the participants bioenergy. Swami Virato simply uses this energy as a tool. At some point Tantrikas experience a bliss-filled state that can be identified as asexuality. Perhaps because of general sexual suppression by cultures and religions, ancient carvings in Nepal and India depicting unbridled sexual sharing create indelible labels. Some Tantrikas do not engage in sex at all. Practice Is Tantra an attitude, a belief, or a practice? / No belief. It is an attitude and there are practices, in sex, and many other areas of life that can be used as tools. Many of these include contemporary conscious psychotherapeutic methods, as well as Eastern philosophy and techniques, such as pranyama, yantra, mantra, etc., as well as simply applying expanded consciousness to one’s existence. Are there common elements in its practice, if it has any? If so, how do these relate to any common attitudes or beliefs? When you say you “practice” Tantra, what do you do exactly? / Tantra is a lifestyle of letting-go, feeling a oneness with everything. If we were to relate Tantra to life in general, we would say there is much more lay-back living, more enjoyment of our sensual nature, a sexual freedom which follows a lifestyle of let go as well. Practicing Tantra is to walk our talk…to visualize others as Divine… to meditate, get and give and receive massages ..and to say YES! more often ...to seek for the purest, highest quality of life, yet to accept whatever we have…and to feel our Divine nature…God…Goddess. Go Here for More
5 o’clock. / The hum of shutters shifting, / readying themselves for sun. / And drowning / in renewed acquiescence, lighting / the dul…
This is one of my tribute poems to T.S. Eliot (genius) and his, Rhapsody on a Windy night. forgive me if I did not do him justice; not many can. In the words of the great Tenacious D: This is just a tribute. :)
The dying rain / a slick / earthen rainbow, / pooling up / as a wood-smoke / memory. A blanket of blue / where the chill / won’t / reach, / to…
A poem about the only season worth dying for…Autumn. :) / Sorry…had to say that, and yes, I’m a smart-ass.
Softly / bright bluebirds fall / behind the lids of rain; / masking the waking dreams of pain / with song. © Kristin Reynolds 9 2009
a cinquain of finding happiness beyond the falling rain.
I Today I have the rain, I don’t have more. / I don’t have matchsticks to deal with / snails to adore / I don’t have friends to play wi…
This is a trilogy of poems I wrote a few months ago and posting again, here as one poem in three parts.
Peace in my footstep, / closer to your door I break to run / ahhh it is open and the room / smells like Rosemary and lemons / music… / it th…
On the run today.. xxx
Infinite cleansing / Wash away what once was me / Purify my soul / Like a virgin kite set free / With vistas of pure heaven The rain beat …
Inspired by the beautiful artwork of Lorenzo Castello. Thank you Lorenzo. / Art / Music
As she dances in the rain / the sweet dance of angels / she lets the cool water / soak down to her skin / not a care in this world / from a di…
A lonely figure of a woman / Dressed in snowy feathers of white / Swooping, skirt swirling / Flying free and / Graceful as a swan, / Fleeting…
I was inspired to write this from a song in Spanish sung by Alex Ubago. The name of the song is “Aunque No Te Pueda Ver”. (Even If I Can’t See You”. There is another country song almost with the same theme. I forgot the name of the song and the singer. I also saw for the first time “Blades of Glory” last night which had to do with figure skating and the beauty of it, though it was also a comedy.I started this writing at about 1:00 a.m. and finished about three, but since I am having problems with my p.c. was able to post it at 7:45.
Some days I am strong, I feel like I belong / Today I am lost without you. / We had plans I now need to rewrite my story / Just for the glor…
This poem was a free write inspired by a capture on my artwork Without you a beautiful Picture of peaceful ocean In Queensland Australia / It does bring back memories of loss and bereavement….
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