Bar Winch

Turn of head and turn of glance.

I see that look of want of chance.

Hooked and without ever a taste.

Deep inside not an inch to waste.

A moving and moistening of skin.

The need grows for me to begin.

Still I tease not giving in just yet.

Waiting till she begs like my pet.

Licking my lips is doing it now.

I can see the pleasures and how.

Easy to read what she is feeling.

New view found in the same ceiling.

On her back on me found on mine.

A warmth from within grows in time.

Will we ever find each other in here.

I know of your want, just come near.

© Jeph Rants

Castles

I sit upon a stone and shovel hand fulls of sand into yet another bag.

The day can yield many if my fingers can find the hold of helpings full.

Grains gathered together and scraped free of others its not attached.

No sifting as the clumps are pushed in form with the other of my scoop.

Progress seems as if it would find no distractions being a simple task.

Grabbing and filling the gullet of a substantial sack made of a weaving.

Intertwined the lacing not enough to stop any from escaping too quick.

Less than that which has found its way lodge beneath my fingers nails.

The sand less paper no less the wear on my digits the goal seeming far.

Pushing the pulsing of my blood now felt the raw tips of my my hands.

My concentration turns in clouds from paying my toll and pushing on.

Final push and the last of those thoughts are placed inside and knotted.

Heavy and tired my body stands to lift my weighted wants off ground.

Only to drop them hard to form them along top the others piled so high.

My wall comes along and circles myself and but for the stacking is done.

With each new comes the sands of time I need to continue building in.

Days of new are old again and old has become a knowledgeable bore.

With pointers gone my palms will continue to push to build my walls.

© Jeph Rants

Take it Deep

How deep is one to feel the energy within themselves without knowing the control of it.

The bones are merely the frame and still the marrow within can feel it so much too.

One would think that no one would ignore such chance that lies so close to our thoughts.

The other version of my choices I know run along side of the ones I am acting out.

I can feel dizzy from the places my mind goes without my guidance and command also.

No trick I have found myself slowly revealing to my own what I have the power to do.

Limitations must have been passed or promised but I know now the lies to be truthful.

Far back in our history I am rarely told of what must be many others who felt this.

They must have a history too or is it too bold to think that they may have taken credit.

As if reaching into a collective thought and pulling out a piece is something you did.

There has become too much of the ownership of ideas and forcing them enacted on me.

How to live and how to detach myself and only allow those who want to best interpret.

Never is the voice of peace able to be shouted over the voice of war until all are dead.

Claim and credit are no less the originality of some one but some one who hears all.

© Jeph Rants

Distruction

In description I would say you hold more than fair beauty.
Your hair in shine and smell is locked in my memory.
It is not just your features but the way they affect me so.
How just the thought of your voice will dance in my head.
Your eyes will give me all I need when I close my own.
They see me and I only fear that they may look away.
Softness of your flesh draws me to draw my fingers slow.
Tracing the air before me recreating your outline in full.
I can see your form forming within my own minds eye.
A figure to dream of if I were ever so lucky to dream.
Style that shows you know yourself in full confidence.
The small smirkish curve that cannot hide from my view.
Reminds of the sound of your voice pushing out my name.
Your smile formed full is the happiness I wait for in me.
I do not know descriptions of perfection, mine is you.

© Jeph Rants

Once Again

I have seen that look in your eyes for too long now.

Coming to me and seeking out my wants for you.

Blue and not in color they need me and show it clear.

You know what happens next but here you are.

Facing me for the force you bare embers for still.

Rain of terror falls into my veins and life moves again.

Pushing and pulsing with infusion of ramped dream.

The tremor of your kiss waits begging for my choice.

If I hold you now I hold you captured as you had me.

The makings of you fall fast following another.

I see the shiver run your body leaving you flushed.

The desire still confused as my stare is unfamiliar.

I have trained for this but I never saw it as you.

With the parting of your lips I save myself with a kiss.

I cannot take the words you may speak softly.

My hands firm to control your head, to control you.

Without words only whatever this is can happen.

No explanations will ever do only this one emotion.

I feel your hands on me and I will not allow this.

Hands locked I walk you up against the wall quick.

Dominating I feel safe, I feel as if I can say no.

But the way you fake a wince followed by a smirk.

My dominance is clearly a fake yet I will play along.

No dreams could face my reality faster than I say no.

© Jeph Rants

Tser

I cannot find my place between my sheets for the past few nights.
The thoughts of needing another thought keeps me thinking.
Passing between the sweet of slumber and maddening of awake.
Running for or from I cannot tell in this between of being and not.
Levels I seem to trapped with my mind running on pure fumes.
Again and again the ghost of peaceful slumber bellow with laughter.
Echoing the wake of unrest that reverberates my body to upright.
The thoughts of never again shall I find until I slip from forth to back.
Such sweet is the bitterness of failure of falling out of a reality.
A drift from a draft that blows down the walls of the day I lived.
Crumbles I wish to find my way into the pile to find that I have lost.
The heaviness of life can only be solved by that weightlessness.
Longing for my journey to seek the sought after of my day after.
Sought is the power that seems to allow me to unplug by connecting.

© Jeph Rants

Multi-Colured.

Push after push the needle pierces my outer layer. Lodging deep the lines and colors I have chosen. A pattern that is not to define yet to express. Some would say art and I would agree, but with a story. Mine have tales of youth and maturity. Mischievous the animated character on my lower leg. A sorrowful Indian rides in a catcher of dreams. My legacies names upon the feathers that hang tight. My back watched too by the loyal bull. Adorning my left a flag to rebel and the soldiers who fought. My right shown a pattern to see what you imagine. Figure of an era shows her face on my calf. Then a simple word to remind me of who I am. All of these are not enough for my tale but all they have to tell for now. I yearn for the story that will gain my next itch. Feeding my art with another hand on the gun to scratch.

© Jeph Rants