Muse

Inspire me –

Spin my head wildly into the clouds
that I may cast my heart happily into the sun
where upon it will burst as you have
filled my very soul with
- Poetry

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Paper moons

What were wishes –
Cast upon cardboard constellations,
but the papier-mâché of promises in the dark.
Might all our dreams have come true
had you only believed in
- Me

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

True romance

How am I -
To wait until tomorrow
When you are within my heart
- Today

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Skin deep

As the condition of beauty –
Is determined by the unconditionality of love.
Therefore the state of ones beauty cannot be dictated
by ones need to appraise the depth and detail of its composition
but objectively by the insight within the heart
of the one who envisions his
- Love.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Intimate illusions

Are of the arms -

Which hold me through out the night.
The warmth of a breath against the nape of my neck,
the steady murmur of a heart beating amid my shoulders blades
as hands clasped, fingers are reassuringly entwined.
Thus you’re with me wherever you are
as we will always sleep under
- The same stars.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Aqualung

Waiting to exhale –
How foreboding is my mortality
that I hold on to it with every breath I take
as I refuse to succumb to the inevitability of demise
and yet my lungs burn for the relief of release.
My ribs crack as my lungs burst that my heart explodes
within these depths of unfathomable darkness
thus I close my eyes as I seek the light of your love
might you assure me it’s safe
- To just breathe.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

October

As I hold on to you –
Thus I long to lie in gilded grass.
Memories of green whispering gently beneath
the auburns of ocher and umber woven within your hair
as it falls voiceless and reckless down upon me
that my lips tremble with the kiss
of your autumn’s
- Sky

Thus speak to me –
In warm wandering whispers
soothingly caressing the bareness of my skin
as I am returned to the ardor of your intimacy’s embrace.
Our very souls locked within climatic reunion
that the pinnacle of our fall
begets summer’s
- End.

Clouds unfurling –
Wind combing through my hair.
As your touch is seasonably cool and calming
the warmth of your heart lies endearingly upon my breast.
Thus I tenderly caress the reveries of the day
abandoning myself to the solace
I have found in
- You.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Leaving Eden

Caught between -
The fondness and the farewell.
As we have been here so many times before
and yet how many ways are there
- to say “Good bye”

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Jurence prudence

Might that my love be blind –
Is it I who should follow my heart any less,
even though it has lead to temptation, pain and jealousy.
Thus having lost faith in my heart you would ask me to trust yours
or has this imbalance of my love and affections simply
been that you did not justify my
- Love.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Jealousy

How wretched is my heart –
Thus I tear it from my breast might that I unbreak it.
Incorrigible thing that you covet for the affections of another
yet your attentions unrequited have wrought not envy
but a demon within your own
- Self.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Pillow

What lies beneath –

This cushion of dream’s vault
are my greatest hopes to my deepest fears.
Haunting desires with their dark brooding secrets,
yet softly filled with the wishes of my heart
as the stars only come out at
- Night.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

The gift of innocence

As I am a child –

That I witness my world through virtuous vision
therefore I am incorruptible and yet I am still encourage able.
Thus I smile when you smile, I will laugh when you laugh,
and may I not always know the reasons why, I still cry when you cry.
As I am capable of seeing the virtue that dwells
- In your heart.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Something in the night

Moves over me–

Like the memory of a kiss that lingers in the dark.
An anticipation that exceeded expectation, soft and voiceless
even as its warmth still lays breathless upon
the nakedness of my
- Skin.

Speaks to me–
Like tendering whispers warm with secret desire.
Enveloping me with the remnants of intimacy and carnality
where the only trust I ever knew was found
in the asylum of your
- Arms.

Embraces me –
Like a lovers arms holding me close after the fall.
Caressing the chambers of my heart with a gentle finesse of
solitude of which I cannot help but wonder
who is holding you
- Now.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Waiting for the sun

Thus I inquired of the sky –
Where upon your heart lies that it does not lay with me.
Asking the sea it indubitably replied “Better to ask how deep I be.”
I sighed affectuins denied by the ambiguity of this shroud.
“Better” is of true that I would be closer to you
were there a little less rain than
- Cloud.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

The constancy of craving

As I hunger –
For your touch, for your kiss,
even your caress that could I lay my heart
within the cradle of your shoulder
and sway in the scent of your gentleness’ garden.
As there is an emptiness in my life,
a consistency of yearning that has left me
with a hole in my heart which
can only be filled by
- You.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

The soul of a kiss

Is the heart of your lips brush -
That we have become one as I abandon mine unto yours.
A quenching passion that we linger in eternity
as your spirit reaches into the depths of my own essence.
There locked within our embrace we are reborn
cheek to cheek, mouth upon mouth, breath within breath.
That to hold you now is to hold you without end,
kiss me once, kiss me again, kiss me
- Forever.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Bedtime stories

Fill my head with dreams –
Tales of tragedy, romance and happily everafters
as the calm resonance of your voice is the lullaby of my heart.
A gentle reassuring timbre of tranquil tenderness
that I know you are with me
- Now

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Déjà Vu

As I am within your arms –
There is a familiarity of having been here before.
Might it have been a dreaming or a longing or a wish of my heart
for I have never experienced the tenderness of your touch,
the warmth of your skin, nor the gentle tremor of your heart next to mine.
Mayhap I am lost within the hopefulness of my reverie still.
Yet assuredly it is a sanctuary of such solace,
that of which I have never
- Left

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Pretty in pink

The culture of innocence –
Is found in the healing power of your love through the
comforts and affections of your heart.
May you find the spectrum of my own to be as honest
that you have put a trust in me by sharing
the true colors of your
- Soul.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Philosophy of dying

As the past is irrelevant -

If we are not to learn from our mistakes.
The future although inevitable is invariably unpredictable
that fate will regardlessly always take care of itself.
Yet assuming we have learned from mistakes past,
the management of our present affairs is only paradoxical.
Thus it is not the knowledge of how to live
but the learning of how to
- Die

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Common touch

As the intricacies of intimacy –
Extend beyond the boundaries of time and distance.
Where it is not so much your caress I crave
but the companionship of your
- Comfort.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Cold coffee

The temperate of morning silence –
As I sit before the longing of my mind's eye,
the room echoes with the laughter of your smile.
Thus dawn’s light will always be the candle of your gaze
that these warmths within my heart remain
the memories for which I keep of
- You

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Covered in roses

Then so are your kisses –
As like petals falling from the sky.
Soft scented raindrops d'amour as I am buried
gently ‘neath the warmths of their
- Affections.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Eclipse

As two hearts beat as one –
For it is not the overshadowing of another
but that it is the balance of the soul.
Just as yours completes
- Mine.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Apologies

What for is forgiveness –
Such that you hold my heart in your hands.
When not at all is not enough
would that I even to say “I love you”
- Still

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Tunnel of love

Such is my journey -

Exploring the moments spent with you.
Thus I pull my fingers through the water of my life
as I can feel yours slipping through mine.
Might there be tears where there once was laughter
may there be laughter yet that we can
still smile through our
- Tears.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Wind

Were I a field of gold -
Would you kiss me as soft and move over me as silent,
letting your fingers run gently through my hair
and caress the vulnerability of my skin with brushstrokes
of gentleness’ warmth.

Were I a forest infinite –
Would you whisper secrets throughout my emerald leaves,
that swaying I swoon willingly into your embrace
conducting a soft symphony impassioned of souls entwined
within orchestral ardor.

Were I still water deep –
Would you stir the surface of my soul with a casual touch,
influencing the recklessness of my hearts abandon
to break upon the shores of our intimacy as we lie together
in a thundering sweet of
- Silence.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

The remains of a poet

Such is love without –
A wingless bird of swan less song
whose heart can no more fly.
A dreamer awoken no less broken
thus tragedy never
- Dies

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

The beauty of sadness

Kiss me sweet with my sorrow –
That I may surrender to the tenderness of despair.
An impassionate of gentle anguish of which I am able to rapt
myself within the warmth of miserable wretchedness.
Therefore ecstasy is the agony that my misery loves its company
thus let us reconcile in a common sadness of grief
that the loneliness of my loss is
- Complete

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Blue

Color my world –
As I am lost in a moment
of which I cannot find my way back
- Without you.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

Warm strangers

As there is a hole in my heart –
Of which I fill with the anguish of emptiness.
For it is not of your touch that leads my heart to stampede,
nor does your kiss taste as sweet of her tenderness.
Yet suspended above this abyss of lust, loneliness and love
I am only poised to ponder of whom
- Is fulfilling yours.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008