When I write love poems it feels like they belong to some wild combination of every lover I’ve ever had and those I’ve yet to meet or even imagine. I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe this has a lot to do with my Venus in Sagittarius in the 11th House with Scorpio on the cusp. The planet Venus of course ruling our love and relationships, sits in Sagittarius in my chart. Sagittarius being the fiery archer who shoots first and asks questions later, led by a higher faith and devotion, sometimes to a fault. Both the student and teacher, Venus in Sagittarius has molded me into a lover of learning, expansion and growth in all forms of relationship. Sagittarius trusts and embodies it’s truth, knowing embarking on a voyage in the basis of that truth will always be a journey worth taking.
It all lives in my 11th House. The 11th House is ruled by Aquarius. The house of the collective, friendship, innovation. It is a house of our highest hopes and biggest dreams. It shelters our wishes before flinging them forward into the world in vibrant anticipation. It’s the house that reminds us of the importance of how we are all interconnected. Mix that with Scorpio in the 11th house and it becomes an intense, transformative desire for deep relationships/friendships, trying to fulfill an emotional depth (but after deep self-reflection I’ve realized this is a depth I can only fill myself).
When I reflect on my poetry and try to pinpoint it to one person, it’s hard to do. I can be inspired by a particular situation, but once the words come out it’s like they weave through the spiralic timeline of my life, reaching out and caressing each soul who has ever touched my life and ever will. I am grateful for this expansive view of love. I am curious as to where it is leading my adventurous heart next.
How closely have you looked at the planets/placements in your chart? In what ways do they act as your muses, informing your creativity?
The next 11 poems/prose range from 2015 to now in no particular order. I didn’t pick that number by the way. It just ended up being that many I chose to share. Love it. (11:11). This is a glimpse into what my heart looks like in evolution. Ever changing. Thank you.
1.
You break my heart always
at the same time of year
the delicate in between
of winter and spring
spring buds and blooms
winter frosts and consumes
it’s a war
that I can no longer bare to watch
I know the warmth is coming
I am tired of having to learn this way
2.
come speak in stars with me
our mouths housing entire constellations
planets dripping from our tongues
where every word echoes
of some distant universe,
pulling us into its gravity
how could I communicate
with you
in any other way
than through the heavens
3.
It’s always a mourning process.
A morning,
process.
Purging you from my bed.
I see no trace of you
on the white linen
But I feel remnants of you
within the threads.
4.
You see
I am trying to forget
every smile,
your lips slightly tugging at the corners of your mouth
every freckle,
I counted when you laid asleep next to me
every brush of fingertips
when we reached for the same thing
When did we stop reaching for the same thing?
You see
I am trying to forget
the lights reflecting off river water
how your hands shook
until they met my waist
the way you pushed your hair back
just slightly out of your face
You see
I am trying to forget
all the ways you said I love you
be it in this alphabet or another
You see
I am trying to remember
how beautiful I am
how the curves of my body never need to meld again to yours
for me to feel love
You see
I am trying to remember
how gentle I am with lovers hearts
and how rough I’ve been with my own
I’m asking for it to forgive me
You see
I am trying to remember
what I deserve
how to center myself
how I am full
I didn’t depend on you,
I just simply wanted
you
I ask,
“When did it stop?”
“Where did it go?”
You tell me you do not know
And I too,
wish I couldn’t recall
5.
In my eyes,
everything is short term.
My existence is less than
a quick glance between forbidden lovers.
But I remember standing by the river,
laughing in between kisses,
bodies slightly shivering
from a midnight summer breeze,
or maybe just nerves.
Meeting you,
standing next to you,
laughing with you,
kissing you,
holding you,
has made me believe in infinity.
6.
Straddling your lap, your hand in my hair, breath hot, your laugh, my smirk, color rising to my cheeks. That is when you tasted sweet. We were ripe for love. Now we sit on opposite ends of the couch, rotting.
7.
Looking back on it, I should’ve squeezed my thighs around your head harder. I never caused you nearly as much pain as I did pleasure. But you paid me back in both.
8.
I like boys who taste like winter.
his fingertips venture across my exposed skin.
with each touch, I feel a chill, a spark,
a bite.
he makes the tip of my nose pink and the color rise in my cheeks.
he whispers, you are not delicate.
I wonder how he knows, but I do not need to wonder long.
because winter is harsh, unyielding,
callous.
yet here I am, waiting.
the next avalanche will come.
it will not bury me.
he’s right, I am not delicate; I have conjured storms too.
there are worlds within ourselves that the other must never touch,
but we do so anyway.
enveloping each other in brumal wrath,
bare skinned,
bare boned.
I fear we may shatter when we touch.
and then,
like an early spring melts the soiled snow,
his lips soften when they mold to mine.
and I
feel
warm.
9.
holding you is like the fluttering of tired eyelids
light
and heavy, all at once
an irresistible surrender I can’t help giving into
together, we dream
together, we create
entire worlds neither of us could’ve imagined alone
when I wake I fear I will not remember,
so half asleep I reach for you,
instinctively you pull me closer
I can hear you
humming in your sleep,
whispering my name
over & over & over & over
I think to myself,
“no, no,
I could never forget this”
10.
I love the way you lure the laughter out of my mouth.
a symphonic composition,
you tell me, “this is a soundtrack we could build a life to.”
with the slightest movement of your hand you conduct the desire through me.
I follow you, in time, matching heartbeat to heartbeat.
how long until it stops?
“shhh,” you whisper as if you’ve read my mind.
you probably have.
“stay, here in it, with me.”
I nod, I smile,
here comes that laughter again.
my entire being shouting,
encore,
encore,
encore.
11.
I’m not sure what Heaven is like
but I imagine
it’s reminiscent of the way you’d quietly open my bedroom door,
shedding all your winter layers
in the effervescent glow of my television.
slipping under the sheets,
curving your body around mine.
your longing for me
pouring out of your skin.
a sacred transference.
an eternal unity.
a primordial inner calling,
much older than us, taking over.
unable to sense any separation,
we’d ascend as a soulful ensemble
in a loving, all-knowing safety.
I imagine Heaven
is something like that.
b.l.s.h 