Popeofmars - Pope's Poetry Pile - Tumblr Blog

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The singing of the blades in our hands melding with the beating of our hearts to form a melody so intoxicating I feel drunk on its movements.

Shifting gazes flying hands faster that conscious thought we have fallen fully into a battle of instinct.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - splash

Stone grey steel meets ivory skin in an explosion of crimson as it glides through your cheek missing your eye by a hairs breath.

Pain races to the front of my mind as I realize the path of victory I won against you is mirrored by your own blade carving a line of retribution along the top of my collar bone.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

Eyes locked in the heat of battle burn brighter with a new and confusing fire. Memories of past moments under the rain and lost embraces in each other's arms fuel that blaze of conflicting emotions that fight for control even as we now dance too the song of danger and death.

Breaths getting heavier, limbs getting slower, pain blossoming ever greater as our argument is settled in the ways of old.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - shock

An opening in your guard arises as a bead of sweat blinds your good eye as the sting of my slash has already closed the other and I find my hand paralyzed out of a deep affection I long thought discarded.

The fight resumes and even as your vision clears I find mine blurring as the love long stoked finds itself rekindling once more seeking too pour from my eyes like the torrent of springs thaw.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - clatter

In a show of defiance to the demon that is my anger towards you I release the hold of my hilt and let steel meet stone in preparation of the following meeting of steel and bone.

What follows is the touch of a razors edge against soft flesh, but not the biting terrible kiss of Vengeance instead the tender caress of hesitation as two minds so alike after years of harmony now find themselves wrestling with the same thoughts as the knots of complication and dispute begin to unravel before us.

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out - bliss

Lips once snarled in anger now meet in wonderful ecstasy even as my blood drips down the blade onto my opposite shoulder forming two crismon rivers down my chest.

Once more steel meets stone and then steel again as your swords encounters mine on its path to the cobblestones below as our kiss grows into one so deep both of us have forgotten whose air we respire.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out - darkness

Azure sky gives way to raven hair as we descend into a world where once steel bit into flesh now teeth and nails find their purchase.

Rage and spite washed away by a tidal wave of lust and affection bridging that sea of hate so love and forgiveness may grow once more.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out

Breathe in, breathe out - light

Time becomes a blur and what once was dusk became dawn to only once again bloom into Dusk before we tear ourselves away from our wordless accord.

A debt we both swore would only end in blood and death now resolved by the blood stained the pair of swords once a symbol of hate soon to be a display of peace atop a mantle. The death sworn to be collected is unspokenly agreed to be delivered by old age in one anothers arms near a warm fire and cold drink.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The ceremony bells of the church tower ring out across the town as you glide down the aisle clad in a dress of lavender and lilac a veil of dandelion beads obscuring the beautiful face marred only by the thin white line of remembrance.

My breath caught in my throat, eyes blurry and blood on fire as emotions that as of yet have no name battle inside my heart as I am awe struck by your visage before me feeling the burgundy of my suit a now unworthy colour beside that of your dress.

Step, Ring

Breathe in, breathe out

I do, I do

An unfinished rant

One of the greatest betrayals of our D.N.A. is the pure and total restriction of our eyes. The way the receptors we rely on so heavily have limited the spectrum of beauty allowed to us.

They have blinded us too things that should be ours by BIRTHRIGHT. Our own bodies are painted in hues and stripes unique too every individual yet as a whole we are blind if not totally ignorant to suchba huge apart of ourselves.

How cruel a joke to play on humanity to gift us the ability to understand and appreciate beauty only too lock so much of it away behind an intangible barrier of cones and rods.

pant like a dog

[ophelia & penelope]

a collection of ophelias & penelopes

I do not want to be working. I want to be in the sun feeding pretty people ideally my spouse(s) fucking grapes. This is stupid working is stupid I hate it here

I kissed one my very close and dear friends recently and it was the best kiss I may have ever had and normally I'd be writing like a god damn madman about it but like??? I'm almost to selfish or jealous too??? Like it's my kiss and my movie moment core memory thing and I could write that passion out but I kinda wanna horde it and it's a new feeling

So it's smut, lemme know what ya think

As her dress drops to the floor my eyes devour her before my hands even reach her velvet skin, every inch of her body like ambrosia that was set in a golden mold and cast into beauty made manifest.

Long have I waited for this moment, our first night of delicious sin and now only one question is at the front of my mind.

Do I go until her legs can't stop shaking or until her hands ache from gripping my hair.

I take her in my arms and throw her up onto my shoulders, the yelp she let's out more adorable than I have words for.

I do this because everytime we have kissed before tonight just as things get like this when our passion burns through our veins causing our faces to flush she has a nasty habit of running away and I won't have any of that tonight.

I begin to kiss and bite my way up each of her thighs towards my prize, skimming over and around it each time to drive her mad as I walk us towards the wall so she'll have something to support her back when it arches soon.

After a few minutes of this frustration overtakes her and she grabs two handfuls of my hair and drives me exactly where she wants me to be. A place I happily embrace now.

I set to my task like a man who hasn't seen food in weeks and with the way I drink her in you'd think I'd just crossed a dessert in summer.

My hands atop Her thighs feel like I've grabbed ahold of the clouds, Clouds that help me control my beloved as a storm of lust overtakes her body. My plan from before is working as I feel her heels on my back trying to gain traction but with one hand on the ceiling and the other at the base of my neck she has no where to go.

A sense of pride overtakes me as she squirms faster and faster as her bliss reaches its pinnacle, her grip tightening on my neck and her legs squeezing tight, almost causing spots in my vision.

God she's tastes like honey, and everyone knows how much I love honey, I don't think it will ever taste as good again not as this. Not good as her.

If I was like a man who had just crossed a desert before then Now I am Akin to a man swimming in a volcanic crater as She reaches that pinnacle and her pleasure becomes a physical thing. It is like ambrosia on my tongue, and it is a drug most intoxicating. A drug I find myself already addicted to.

If she were not so tense I would lap every drop the escaped me to run down my chin but unable to do so I simply forge onward knowing that this angelic being above me has yet more to spill.

Like a zealot gifted a vision from their Deity I keep going my tongue And lips translating every ounce of desire I have never been able to find the words to speak to my love, her body quivering all the while as what words she can speak slowly began to lessen as each minute flies past us.

I am given another 4 doses four more highs that I could ride the rest of my fleeting life Before my arms begin to ache like my jaw, and while she hates me for a moment as I tear my head back, ending her marathon of dopamine it is quickly dashed away as I toss her onto the bed in the center of the room.

As she sinks into an ocean of pillows I see a rush of adrenaline and excitement overtake her as she sees that even after all that time holding her up I still have the strength to toss her so easily.

As I make my way towards the source of my high, the epicenter of all my euphoria I am stunned for a moment is I pass her ankles for the first time… And smell… strawberries??

I break out into a laugh as I realize this adorable, innocent angel before has just been an act all along, and now I know she has some sins of her own planned for Me.

She blushes in a way that drives me mad as I begin kissing my way up her legs, my hands wandering All the while ahead of my lips, searching for my next high like a cave diver in the dark.

As my hands find what I crave Our eyes meet and I see an equal craving fill her eyes.

A hunger for more ecstasy, an unbridled need for my hands to set to the task - and whom am I to deny a woman Her needs?

I set my hands to religious purpose, my fingers searching for my fountain of the grail so they may become the vessel that brings to me another taste of eternity. Not a single one of the crusaders of old has ever felt such a duty to their actions as I feel now, a paladin demanding by course of actions to earn my goddesses blessing.

I feel her begin to run away, her body betraying her mind as the pleasure surmounts her better judgment. My other arm reaches from under her across her waist to hold her steady, and I use my teeth to gain purchase on her thigh lest my tired arm proves insufficient. It does not. My bite however builds upon her bliss. As she squirms one more time to get free her whole body shakes as she screams my name too olympus, her legs collapsing, her muscles tightening around my hand.

She pulls me up into a kiss, I notice fleetingly that her eyes are glazed over as mine shut between stolen breaths of the embrace we share. I know I must still be breathing but neither of us knows whose air we share anymore.

Our bodies become just as tangled as our breath as we become one, limbs and hands intertwining, heat rising and pleasure twisting into one blessed union of heaven.

We do not notice as night turns to day, the only miniscule passage of time the fading pain of my back as she carves into it her own animalistic desire. Soon her hunger becomes as insatiable as mine and she sinks her pretty smile into my collarbone, the hue of her lipstick staining my neck around her bite.

I like the mirror to her I have become I bite my lip as pain meets bliss. I reach a hand up to her hair and pull her back, pull her lower, telling her without words that I don't want her to stop. I want her to take after me and share in the high.

With an evil grin I've never seen her show before she gladly does so as I gasp and moan under her teeth and nails. My shaky breath and shuddering muscles bring out the second wind buried deep inside her and she is like a dragon unchained as she devours me, a trail of burning passion in her wake like dragon's fire.

Where I was a zealot seeking the bliss of heaven she is a demon, whose only thought is how best she may drown in sin. Sin she happily drains from me as though I were a cask of wine shattered on the tavern floor.

I find myself for the first time, also attempting to run away, my own mind unable to comprehend the patterns and dialects her hands and tongue speak against my skin, her own hands now keep me rooted.

A song so beautiful blesses my ears as i feel the tears stream from my eyes

For never has such a symphony regaled such unworthy ears as mine

It sounds like evaporated honey made from lavender and lilac drifting on the wind

The rhythm is so sweet I feel like Nero at a feast praying it never ends.

Oh how something so intangible can take hold of me is a magical thing.

Incorporeal hands play with my heart guiding me closer by my heart strings.

Wandering becomes a word altogether removed from my seafaring mind as my feet guide me.

Never before have I felt so steadfast not when steered by a star or map, this path is my destiny.

The turn gives way to a cove no, a temple for it is home to my divine muse.

Her visage now before me I know not even the gods have borne witness to such mystical views

Butterflies fill my stomach, love my heart, and water my boots as the melody takes even greater hold of my mind, banishing all thoughts but the need to embrace her.

A singular purpose I am to fulfill, to follow a singular path and on completion press mortal lips to ones so holy and discover the taste of ambrosia mixed with rose water.

My pace matches the beat of my heart as I race through this liquid obstacle in my path, her solo becoming ingrained into every fiber of my being, giving my legs the strength to by devotion alone push into the depths between my muse and me.

The fires of passion like a solar flare feel as though they might very nearly turn the sea around us into steam, flames even harder as I reach out for my Persephone.

The butterflies multiply a thousand fold, each one attempting to embody words of proper deference to my beloved as I march ever onward.

I know not if it's the wind from their legion wings or the returning tide that make it harder to breathe as I approach the source of this musical and enchanting uproar.

One foot in front of the other I am ever closer to my paramore, all the while proclaiming the unbounded unending lexicon of love for she who sings the song my soul knows inside and out.

I am fully in the depths of an arcane bacchanalia that will soon surpass any and all earthly celebration, not the taste of salt water in my mouth.

The light from her eyes shine as I meet my true sailors fate, overshadowed by the way a song so wonderful blesses my ears one more moment before the water rises above my face.

I am binging season 1 of bridgerton and all I have to say is fuck lady featherington. Fuck Daphne. And I can't wait to binge some more

Would that I could plunge these tear soaked hands deep into the hourglass of time and in so doing turn its fleeting sands to sorrowful and all to still mud.  Would that I could tear this moment from time so never again would I feel a second rush passed without you by my side and never again may I feel the echo of my aching heart trapped in my chest.

some of u aren’t carrying a constant yearning for love that consumes u and that must be nice

Working on being emotionally single has had ups n downs, the ups are no more heartbreak and I don't genuinely have a crush on anyone rn which if you'd met me is a rarity

The downs are chronically yearning and the deep need to kiss a pretty woman by a waterfall that grows every day.

So I've switched from like targeted yearning to a much more generic brand to were feel alot like when I write just all the time so baby steps ig?

Kaladin: I'm a murderer..... not an ex-soldier.

Kaladin: Mmm... I think I'm going to practice with this spear. * Nobody will notice my military training *

Everyone:

These words are for the woman I love so dear- no for the angel .... neigh once more I write these words for the deity that I hold worship for at the altar of your presence.

You who's shining beauty was the spark that lit the sun in the time before light, you whose dazzling smile gave birth to the stars and whose eyes are the inspiration of the seven seas I have sailed to stand beside you now, deep, beautiful, and mazelike.

I love not just the perfection of your visage but also every mannerism you have acquired over your life so small but without them I would findmyself before an altogether different being.

The way you sigh when tasting white wine yet grin when enjoying the red. The tilt in your head ever so slightly to right when you bless us with your smile once more because you are so filled with joy it physically moves you.

I also love the way everytime you hear that joke about the apple and the bird you laugh as though it is the world's newest and most important jest, Akin to how every passing moment at your side is the newest and most important moment in this little life of mine as I plummeting ever deeper into the oceans of love I have grown for you as the days have raced past us.

Oh deity too whom I give my prayers and confessions I have found you to be, kind, and beautiful while in contrast finding myself to be a jealous and greedy man hence forth I seek too put an end to this unworthy attempt at conveying my love for thee short as I desire to jealously hoard as much of your beauty to myself as I possibly can.

Have any who hear my words or will read them in my absence ever heard of the Muses Rose? It stands a similar but far more important relic as that of the Emporers Clothes.

Many moons ago a young man lay deep in the peace of sleep. It is within those lands of mystery he sat when he found himself graced by a wandering embodiment of Reverie.

So captivating was her radiant beauty that if he could but stay in the sandman realm until the stars that sought to copy her incandescent faded out and he himself withered away he would do so in a heartbeat.

Knowing that if she did not stop him he would bend time and dream to his will to accomplish this she frantically thought of a way to stay his hands.

For just as he had fallen for her she too had found herself plummeting after the would be suitor in dangerous dance with gravity, and so she would find a way to meet in the waking world so his smile would brighten her world and her arms take him into an everlasting embrace.

Cupping her hands together she wished with all of her being for a gift to give unto him so he would have purpose to rise and find her once more.

From this trial and hope was born a gilded rose, whose petals were of ambrosia and starlight and who's stem would never die.

She begged of him to take that rose and it's stem and search for her, for though the love they shared would remain for all of time their minds would muddle memories of their meeting and by this and only this could he find her once more.

With a mournful goodbye he awoke with a start, clutching just the stem of a rose, it's thorn pressing deep into his hand.

None besides he could see the flowers buds so beautiful and shimmering save the muse he met in his the land of dancing and dreaming. So it is that too this day you may see him wandering the land often late at night the shaft of a served rose held close to his heart as he wanders every road and every trail seeking his partner of mind and soul.

Never is his head held low or back bent for he knows every minute that passes is a minute less he must wait and every track he treads is but one step closer to the day when an angel of grace and passion will see the thing in his hands for what it truly is and in that moment, true love unlike any born before shall blossom from that flower unto their hearts and they shall take one anothers hands and with a meeting of eyes fall into a kiss that will begin an eternal matrimony that the gods themselves could not bend or break and those two lovers, a wandering boy with flower in one hand and his lost angel in the other shall be the first and last to live happily ever after.

I present to you, one of my favorite pieces (if not my masterpiece if you ask me)

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The singing of the blades in our hands melding with the beating of our hearts to form a melody so intoxicating I feel drunk on its movements.

Shifting gazes flying hands faster that conscious thought we have fallen fully into a battle of instinct.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - splash

Stone grey steel meets ivory skin in an explosion of crimson as it glides through your cheek missing your eye by a hairs breath.

Pain races to the front of my mind as I realize the path of victory I won against you is mirrored by your own blade carving a line of retribution along the top of my collar bone.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

Eyes locked in the heat of battle burn brighter with a new and confusing fire. Memories of past moments under the rain and lost embraces in each other's arms fuel that blaze of conflicting emotions that fight for control even as we now dance too the song of danger and death.

Breaths getting heavier, limbs getting slower, pain blossoming ever greater as our argument is settled in the ways of old.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - shock

An opening in your guard arises as a bead of sweat blinds your good eye as the sting of my slash has already closed the other and I find my hand paralyzed out of a deep affection I long thought discarded.

The fight resumes and even as your vision clears I find mine blurring as the love long stoked finds itself rekindling once more seeking too pour from my eyes like the torrent of springs thaw.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring - clatter

In a show of defiance to the demon that is my anger towards you I release the hold of my hilt and let steel meet stone in preparation of the following meeting of steel and bone.

What follows is the touch of a razors edge against soft flesh, but not the biting terrible kiss of Vengeance instead the tender caress of hesitation as two minds so alike after years of harmony now find themselves wrestling with the same thoughts as the knots of complication and dispute begin to unravel before us.

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out

Breathing in, breathing out - bliss

Lips once snarled in anger now meet in wonderful ecstasy even as my blood drips down the blade onto my opposite shoulder forming two crismon rivers down my chest.

Once more steel meets stone and then steel again as your swords encounters mine on its path to the cobblestones below as our kiss grows into one so deep both of us have forgotten whose air we respire.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breathe out - darkness

Azure sky gives way to raven hair as we descend into a world where once steel bit into flesh now teeth and nails find their purchase.

Rage and spite washed away by a tidal wave of lust and affection bridging that sea of hate so love and forgiveness may grow once more.

Breathe in, breathe out

Breathe in, breath out

Breathe in, breathe out - light

Time becomes a blur and what once was dusk became dawn to only once again bloom into Dusk before we tear ourselves away from our wordless accord.

A debt we both swore would only end in blood and death now resolved by the blood stained the pair of swords once a symbol of hate soon to be a display of peace atop a mantle. The death sworn to be collected is unspokenly agreed to be delivered by old age in one anothers arms near a warm fire and cold drink.

Step, ring

Step, ring

Step, ring

The ceremony bells of the church tower ring out across the town as you glide down the aisle clad in a dress of lavender and lilac a veil of dandelion beads obscuring the beautiful face marred only by the thin white line of remembrance.

My breath caught in my throat, eyes blurry and blood on fire as emotions that as of yet have no name battle inside my heart as I am awe struck by your visage before me feeling the burgundy of my suit a now unworthy colour beside that of your dress.

Step, Ring

Breathe in, breathe out

I do, I do

What am I to do with this chest so full of love my heart has started beating faster to compensate for it at all hours of the day?

What do I do with veins that burn so hot with passion I no longer need a coat or jacket except on the coldest of winter nights?

How do I tame this typhoon the threatens to tear me apart because I trapped it in an ill suited vessel whose walls are wearing thin?

No longer can I fight the flames by mixing desire with ink and an ever-growing dictionary and putting it to paper, because soon my hands will give out and the storage of learnabke words will pass into history.

Gone are the days when translating mythological feelings into written sagas will suffice. Coming soon is the day when when a eight greater than atlas' buckles my legs.

Where am I to store unending well of lust and yearning that will contain it long enough to let breath full again? Will it even have a deep enough cavern to soak up the tears that flow from my eyes when these feelings take hold?

How is one person meant to bear so. Much. Love. And somehow find none of it is meant for himself.

Why is it that I can love someone more than the rose loves the sun or the ice loves the moon and I can't even maintain eye contact with my own reflection?

What am I supposed to put all of this wealth towards if no one will have it and I myself am immune to it?

I cannot push it back into my heart for it would burst, my bones will now work either for this passion has seeped into my marrow and overtime replaced it.

What am I to do with a body so full of love that it tears at my seems and a mind so broken I wait for the day those threads burst?

Of these two lovers one stands brilliant and shimmering as the sun, spreading the warmth and joy where ere she go, a beacon of beauty and Divinity so true that any who dared to take in such incandescence for too long would then and will find now a sunspot impressed into their vision for a time. For how can one gaze upon Divinity and not be left changed and with a new outlook upon this land.

The other stands a silly little man, near blind now with dots from sungazing, who spends his every moment enchanted by the love of his soul that stands before him. Just as she is his sun he is her moon, ever rejuvenated by the light of her beauty, and always just behind her.

As is fitting for a moon, he spends the times apart from his love writing ever on and on in hopes to transcribe the love they share that grows with each passing moment. Futile attempts though they be, each passage, saga, sonnet, and limerick carries with it a peace of her beauty and the love it inspires in his heart and takes its rightful place once completed among its brothers and sisters in the night sky as a new star. This way when either is far away from the other and gone for so long those wonderful impressions that are near tattoos upon his very eyes have faded he need only look up too the constellations above to feel close at hand to his Paramore once again. Making those times apart that too him feel like the decades between eclipses feel bearable for another night until the next embrace of theirs, which is always as magnificent as the new dawn and even more beautiful.

So they persist, she taking her moon with her where ere she goes showing him love and wonders unparalleled, and he ever enchanted by the majesty, spreading attempts at its definition across the sky, one hand in ever in hers to help guide him while his vision dances like the aurora when locked on her.

Have I told you why the gods made us with a heart to the left and not at our core? When they first sent us into this world our hearts sat in the center of our chest hugged by our lungs and shielded by our sternum secure and sound and yet in safety it found only solitude.

Locked away in its Fortress of ivory our hearts could not feel the pound of someone else's heart making it nigh impossible to find the rhythmic percussion of our soul mates heart among the countless people we would meet. So the gods taking a chance did the only thing they could think of. Take a chance.

They moved our vascular battery too the left so that our ribs could still protect it and serve as a chamber to bend and reflect the sound we searched for so desperately. This way when two lovers would embrace they music of their hearts could melt together in one another chest to write the song of their love. A song I morn my loss of even if only temporary.

The moment our embrace ended all I could feel was the last echo of our song ending in what I can only call an utter silence unbroken and even deepened by the now isolated sound of my own heart. A silence I cannot wait to shatter with warm and rejuvenating return of your touch.

I hope the passing of this knowledge and words of love will make our time apart easier my love, until then I shall wait ever impatiently for the time when I can hold you once more and feel the rebirth of the percussive melody of our .

Long have been the winters that have come and gone in the eternity between sightings of the one my heart belongs too.

A back once has strong has since bent low, a heartbeat flittering and passionate now does slow, the sand in my hourglass' bottom has grown.

Though I have aged and long since changed with certainty I can tell you her visage has doubtlessly stayed much the same, altered not by time or strain.

For she who brought light and wonder into my life is of elven blood, a queen of the fae whose beauty is equaled by none.

She did share a love with me and many an embrace but fleeting is the attenoktions of one who has seen so many an age.

Duties did call my dearest far and away, but of me she asked that I wait and stay. Quick would be her task or so she did say.

But a redwood does not see a drought in a similar manor too the sapling of an oak who will soon wither away.

Decades to my love of the fairest of folk would be but a trifle absence and little before had she loved one shackled with the mortal yoke.

Long has been my wait, and still my love and hope stay strong, that she will return to me with each and every dawn.

I did give her my word and to it I shall hold in the knowledge she shall stay true to hers before death itself takes me unto its fold.

Should it come that I shall pass before I hold again my Elven lass I write this now so she weeps not for our love still stands.

For my heart burns brighter that any and every star, it matters now how close or far. I only apologize I am but a man and could not escape her absence unmarred.

But worry not and do not weep, for rest assured her word my love shall keep. Goodbye for now and goodnight I long only too see your smile once more shine through night.

I do not make art, I transcribe memories, visages, and stories into the bones of the world. To make moments in time stand eternal in marbleline glory. Whittling can be beautiful too but it can burn away, or decay over time. Paint chips and fades as easily as seasons change., but not stone. Statues weather time and conditions as though they were apart from it all. Yes it can be broken but so can everything if you hit it hard enough. Painting is easier of course but fickle and fleeting. Woodworking while similar isn't as reliable, each tree may have hidden knots or rot, and the depth of the art isn't on the same level as marble or granite. Stone however, given the right set of tools and and time enough to provide proper care and love can become almost clear in one's hand. With a few strokes you can make what was a sheer face into a veil hiding a maidens dignity, or show the veins and muscles twisting under the skin of a great beast. Even Flora such as a wizened oak or sprouting crown of Thorns can be forever cherished in the ground beneath you. With stone you can capture man beast or scenery and make it live forever, eternalize things that would normally pass into history like sand unto the ocean and by doing so forever change the lives of any who bear witness to such works. This is what I do, this is my calling. That is what it means to be a Mason.

im cooking