Eros in January

4 years ago today, my husband and I had our first kiss which sent our 6-year friendship spiraling up rapidly into inevitable loving Bliss. This is the song that his Love inspired in my Psyche...

Category: Recycled Poetry

Journal: The Nest of the Bower Birds

Date: January 2008

Eros in January

by Felina Lune Kavi

It's cold here tonight...
wrap me warm in your skin,
lock me up in your sight,
hold me close and breathe in...
and out.

Outside in the dark...
a new moon on the rise.
We are lost under stars
in the most beautiful sky.

Eros in January,
you touch the soul within me.
Eros in January,
fast as love flies through you and me.

Our hearts beat whole at last,
in the wake of our dreams.
I'm too in love to ask,
is this really what it seems...
to be?

Beyond what we believed
of what love ever meant,
this love is all we need
to know our soul's full intent.

Eros in January,
you touch the soul within me.
Eros in January,
fast as love flies through you and me.

Mumbly Joe and Ramblin' Rose

I had to search for this poem last night to read to my husband because when he said 'I love you too' as we were about to sleep, it sounded like he said 'my feet'...which wasn't even close. He's kind of a mumbler at times. And...I'm kind of a rambler at times. I wrote this poem for no particular reason (at the time)...but when I read it to my husband last night (actually very early in the morning of this, our 2nd anniversary)...we realized I was writing about us before we were even an 'us'. ;)

Category: Soul-of-Thought Revival

Journal: *VOICE* ("unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought")

Date: 3-27-2005

mumbly joe and ramblin' rose...

by Felina Lune Kavi

mumbly joe,
as the story goes,
has humbly mumbled
little more than hello
to his childhood sweetheart,
ramblin' rose--
since she broke his spirit
all those years ago.

old mumbly joe
wasn't much for a show,
let alone for conversation...
he didn't want to seem slow.
he'd just mumble one-liners,
hoping no one would know
he was a little bit odd
and his voice was too low.

but that ramblin' rose
wouldn't just let it go
that he was incomprehensible
even at his hello.
and she had a strange affinity
for letting people know
their particular problems
before they have time to say no.

he fell in love with her though,
wouldn't just let her go
because of misunderstanding
from a ramblin' rose.
so he mustered all his courage
and said i love you to rose,
crystal clear he thought,
since he said it really slow.

but miss ramblin' rose
just wrinkled her nose
and let go with a laugh
like he'd told her a joke.
then she rambled on projection
in her usual monotone,
and she rambled on articulation
so joe just headed home, alone.

and that mumbly joe,
as he had always been known,
never told a soul all these years
about old ramblin' rose.
yet it was common knowledge,
after rose had a stroke,
that her last discernable words
were 'i love mumbly joe.'

still nobody told
old mumbly joe,
they all figured he died
a long time ago.
but his legend still lives
in a story that grows
just as tall and as windin'
as a ramblin' rose.

All is Change

Category: Recycled Visions

Journal: Songbird

Date: 10-26-10

All is Change

by Felina Lune Kavi

All is change.

Welcome, winds!

And yet another story begins.

Time is wise.

Let it be!

Here-now, set your watch to FREE.

Be your dream.

Open eyes!

Read yourself between the lies.

This is love.

Soul of thought!

We are one, though we forgot.

Keep the change.

Truth be told!

We are breaking from the mold.

Find your voice.

Sing your heart!

Know that we are living art.

Swan Lake

Category: Recycled Poetry

Journal: The Nest of the Bower Birds

Date: Began on Beltane Eve 2008, completed today

Swan Lake

Tonight I’ll slip away with you

And escape into the woods.

Together as one,

And one with the wild,

To become whatever we would.

We’ve come upon a sacred space

Where our helical paths entwine.

Bonding in braids,

On the eve of Beltane,

We are lovers, redefined.

The Piscean Moon shines across the lake,

The owl in the tree sees each move we make,

The spider in the tent weaves our solemn vows,

Everything was leading us to right now.

The Little-Girl Trilogy

Category: Recycled Poetry

Journal: Confessions of Her Roaring Twenties

Dates: 2002, 2008, and 2010

little-girl (2002)

by Felina Lune Kavi

i've not felt

so little-girl before,

nor did i harbor thoughts

of endless love...

but in the quickest instant

i must question my existence

as a secret

and a lie

and as a whore.

still i've never felt

this little-girl before...

mostly every time

he pushes me away.

i need to feel his love,

i need him to share my love...

for there's far more of it

than this little-girl can store.

(2008)

once i knew this little-girl before--

wrapped warm with new thoughts,

she simply forgot

she's not a little-girl anymore.

absence makes the heart grow fonder;

absence makes the restless mind wander.

'why' and 'how' and 'what was i thinking'...

suddenly her world is shrinking.

now i know this little-girl again--

selfish and silly,

desperately willing

to be taken as more than a friend.

idealism comes on too strongly;

idealism increases the longing.

she hopes for perfect love and perfect trust...

but it translates into perfect lust.

and now you know this little-girl as well--

she is chaos contained

but she cannot refrain

from the depths of feeling in which she fell.

(2010)

i've come across this little-girl before.

the difference now is she is safe in love.

after innocence lost,

a threshold was crossed--

she married who she endlessly adores.

now i'll always know this little-girl i feel.

she's never to be pushed away again.

although she doesn't show,

wrapped warm with woman's clothes,

she's present in the moments that are real.

still i'm seeing things so little-girl once more.

now a daughter clings to any kind of love.

sharing treats and toys,

holding hands with little-boys--

little-girl lessons can never be ignored.