Ravensong Poetry And Writing Blog by Donovan Baldwin

 Sweet revelation

When dawn's loose robe falls open,

Splendid secrets loosed,

Bosom of the day above

Ecstasy's hidden entrance

#tanka

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fingers fluttering

almost too fast to follow...

summoning magic

i her student watch

learning her intricacies...

routes of her pleasure

slowly she guides me

giving wordless instructions...

gasps end the session

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she's not a plaything

and yet she can be playful...

and there's a difference

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not overwhelming

but always quietly there...

the way he loves her

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in the night beneath the stars

we made the most intimate love...

without ever getting undressed

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explore each other

lost within our wilderness...

private adventures

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on soft blank pages

i write lascivious lines...

verse that sounds like you

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so like the ocean

foams across a hidden reef...

my desire crashes

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ready warrior

sword unsheathed standing before...

passion's mad onslaught

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hear your silent song

writing how the words would sound...

if i could sing you

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drop drop drop of words

she arches with joyful pain...

as poetry burns her

writhes beneath words

as the poet's candle drips...

ink which burns like wax

as our lips bind us

trails of burning poetry...

inflame new secrets

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at last it's autumn

and all the trees are on fire...

glorious flames before dying

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i write poetry

though my words thrill you inside...

you keep them secret

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butterflies flutter

and a smile crosses her lips...

as his words tickle

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By Donovan Baldwin

Labels: Autumn, donovan baldwin, love, pain, passion, poems, poetry, tanka, thrill, tickle

Original Poem By Donovan Baldwin

Each time she looks at me
I hear wild distant music
Something from another
Ancient place and time
When fire and passion
And a mystic dance at
The edge of darkness
Resolved itself into an
Intimacy in the shadows
Beyond the reaches of the light.

Labels: dance, donovan baldwin, fire, music, passion, poem, poetry

dancing a passion
she steps to music she hears...
wishing he could see

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she reveals herself
drops words and phrases like veils...
naked poetry

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this mature woman
revealing her needs and wants...
dances without veils

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fingers as my brush
palette of avid colors...
you my work of art

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i never accuse
for I too have often sinned...
we're only human

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painting you i use
colors of naked desire..
and love mixed with lust

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dances with the leaves
dress whirls to familiar wind...
dreams of her partner

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- Copyright November 2020 by Donovan Baldwin

Labels: dancing, haiku, passion, poems, poetry by Donovan Baldwin

By Donovan Baldwin

Golden sunrise,
Words a cliché,
But the reality
A truism which
Smashes gently
Through barriers
We erect, jaded
With the excesses
Of modern life,
Yet, sight of
A mama duck
With her ducklings,
Spring flowers,
Peeping shyly
At the emerging
Season of Spring,
Hard to ignore,
So far beyond
Mere clichés.

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arousing aura
of sensual innocence
belies her passion

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waves rolling to shore
sounds in darkness recognized
seen in the mind's eye

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without many words
i reach touching lovingly
chords which make you sing

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surface deceptive
things turbulent down below
each our own ocean

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ducks skim the water
recalling slow motion films
seen now in real time

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sunrises the same
each one beautiful and new
just as with people

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red sky in morning
grab my trusty camera
sailors take warning

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tracks beside the road
from somewhere to somewhere else
a boy's fantasies

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moonlight on the bay
soft ripples whisper of wind
i sat and wondered

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Poetry copyright 2020 by Donovan Baldwin
Photograph by Donovan Baldwin

Labels: arousing aura, donovan baldwin, haiku, passion, poems, poetry, sensual innocence, sunrise

By Donovan Baldwin

wine and poetry
read in the moon's silver light...
our kind of orgy

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afraid to shock me
i'll be more shocked and surprised
if you can't share truth

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slow playful kisses
hug becomes its own caress
love felt all over

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so quickly i fell
charmed by her carnal caress
her manifest love

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lost in her loving
i cannot contain myself
groaning with pleasure

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love one another
kisses caresses firm strokes...
same when we're apart

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her glistening lips
parted in pleasure longing...
an absent lover

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please don't be shy
woman in her prime of life
should do all with pride

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rising of venus
to satyr's enticing pipe
ecstatic goddess

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indulgent foreplay
true lovers with a mission
limitless passion

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when not together
we do without each other
not without pleasure

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dancing with the spheres
spread across the universe
like two shooting stars

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loving fingers play
amorous orchestrations...
applause and encore

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Poetry copyright 2020 by Donovan Baldwin

Labels: caresses, donovan baldwin, groaning with pleasure, moon, passion, playful kisses, poems, poetry, satyr, Venus, wine

By Donovan Baldwin

two distant lovers
crave blistering caresses
and soothing kisses

only touch with words
seeking within messages
the passion they desire

share bold fantasies
secret moments in each night
they must love alone

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i flute play you lute
fingering ecstatic chords
as you blow love's notes

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lovers intertwined
sensuous penetration
pressing approval

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it's no sacrifice
all i have i give freely
for what you give me

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heated bodies glow
sweat of their desire reflects
fires burning within

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passionate heartbeats
keeping time with the bed springs
then sudden silence

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she hides in her room
no one may see these secrets
but her absent love

----

kisses full of words
hands not still she loves with all
body a caress

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Poetry Copyright March 2020 by Donovan Baldwin

Art: Wilhelm August Lebrecht Amberg, German 1822 - 1899 Distant Thoughts

Labels: distant lovers, donovan baldwin, fantasies, haiku, kisses, lovers, passion, poems, poetry

BY Donovan Baldwin

passion is normal
why deny yourself pleasure
more intense when shared

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tulips and roses
orchids and azaleas
pale before your bloom

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make no promises
words wander off in the wind
place love in my hands

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flicking of your tongue
impish smile behind the peach
juice drips down your chin

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no perfect body
yet a soul that matches mine
just so perfectly

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panting grasping lips
tongues in breathless game of tag
stirring love's cocktail

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you rise over me
transcendent smile of pleasure
as ecstasy comes

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psyche viewed eros
loved her lover more in light
yet nearly lost love

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her soft rose buds swell
awakened by lover's touch
and gentle kisses

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reach to me your hand
hold mine on this moonlit path
where we lovers stroll

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It was in the 30's,
I was told as a boy,
A barge ran aground
In a storm.
I swam there,
Snorkeled,
The sand was black
And spongy from the oil,
Twenty years later.
Huge cables appeared and
Disappeared with
Tide and storm,
Arising before my mask,
Ghostly figure from the past.

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caressing your curves
the story of the woman
quietly seduced

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our bold nakedness
the courage to bare ourselves
for love must know all

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Words, those damned elusive things,
Never there when you need them.
The secret is to sneak up on them,
Begin using them without permission.
They, after all, are your creatures,
Bound to do your bidding,
Without question or objection,
So, make them understand,
You will use them as you will,
Even when they're not ready to play.

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I, my own Prometheus,
Torn by my own demons,
Harpies, devils, carrion birds,
Uncertainty and fate,
Tearing at my breast,
Ripping out the heart
That once beat for adventure,
Travel, and investigation,
Of the lovely little corners,
Of mortals, to whom
I sought to give fire.

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i write my desires
fingers on your tender skin
aflame with your heat

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yes i say i lust
love and lust so very close
each feeds the other

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body my temple
adoration all aspects
love the highest form

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Poetry Copyright March 2020 By Donovan Baldwin

Art: The Embrace (1917) by Egon Schiele

Labels: Eros, flicking tongue, haiku, kisses, passion, poems, poetry, Prometheus, Psyche, roses, tulips

By Donovan Baldwin

When people speak of passion,
They use words like
"Hot", "Fiery", "Burning",
As if passion were always heat.

Heat for me evokes
A clearing in a jungle
Or a beach in sunlight,
A summer day spent driving nails,
And carrying iron rods
Made burning hot by the Sun...

Or hard hot times when I wore,
A helmet, a web belt loaded down,
With ammunition, water, and more,
And carried an M-16.

My passions are never near the surface,
And so,
Do not know, or show, "heat".

They are cold as the color of moonlight,
As it showed me your face,
And your body,
In that moment when we took
All each of us could give.

My passions are cold,
But they are true,
And they always lead me back...
To you.

09/18/09

More original poetry by Donovan Baldwin at http://ravensong.4t.com.

Labels: donovan baldwin, passion, poem, poem about passion, poem by Donovan Baldwin, poetry

By Laurent Grenier

Ironically, the passion that can neutralize the repulsion for difficulties depends on the effort to overcome these difficulties. The irony resides in the circularity of this principle - which applies to all areas of activity, including poetry: One must make the effort to overcome difficulties to achieve success and feel capable, and one needs this achievement and feeling to have a passion for making this effort.

How can one enter this circle without this passion? In other words, how does one resolve the quasi-contradiction according to which one cannot passionately start the effort to overcome difficulties before it has ended successfully?

If difficulties are deemed insurmountable, mistakenly or not, the repulsion for them is absolute. In that case, nothing will motivate the effort to succeed, except an outside authority that can dictate this effort, or an outside influence that can generate faith and stimulate courage. In every other case where the seriousness of the difficulties is open to doubt, one may try one's luck with mixed feelings.

Assuming one tries, the result of this effort will constitute additional self-knowledge that will inform one's future choices. A positive outcome will act as a positive reinforcement that emboldens one to try again, with increased confidence and reduced hesitation; a negative outcome will do the opposite.

Should one refuse to try one's luck, this would slow one's progress, but not necessarily stop it. Confidence can be increased and hesitation reduced by degrees, through a series of baby steps that can eventually lead to triumph. All in all, people have more than one trick up their sleeve to succeed in life, though they cannot escape the necessity of achieving success to develop a passion for the difficult task of living.

As regards poetry, success may be achieved in a roundabout and gradual way. Take a young educated man who has a sense of imagery and a desire to express himself. While his education has prepared him for the written expression of his feelings and thoughts, this sense and this desire together drive him to write poetically, though he has no pretensions to composing a poem.

This first step is a manner of kickoff that gets the ball rolling. He becomes aware of his poetic ability within the limits of his poetic writing. What is more, he catches a glimpse of the poetry that is a blur in this writing and could emerge from the prose like a landscape from the fog. His potential as a future poet is thus faintly discernible. It assumes the form of an inkling whose haziness will progressively dissipate as further poetic efforts are made successfully. In the end the young man sees himself as a young poet. He is eager to grapple with the difficulties of writing poetry because he is confident that he will overcome them and delight in this achievement.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Laurent Grenier's writing career spans over twenty years. During this time he has broadened and deepened his worldview, by dint of much reflection and study, and in the end has crafted "A Reason for Living", his best work to date.

Official web site: http://laurentgrenier.com/ARFL.html

Article Source: Passion and Poetry, and Life
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ORIGINAL POETRY BY DONOVAN BALDWIN

Labels: achievement, confidence, courage, difficulties, passion, poetry, self-knowledge, success