Hum (Poem)

Hum erotic poem by Greta Stone

This poem was written from a daily prompt hosted by WrittenRiver on Twitter.  I post my most popular poem for each half month here, two poems per month. ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

At the end
of the day
when my
strength
is worn
and my
hope is
torn,
cradle
me in
your arms
and hum
a sweet
song of
love across
my skin
soft and
warm.

© Greta Stone

Limerence (Poem)

limerence poem by Greta Stone

This poem was written from two daily prompts hosted by DimpleVerse on Twitter.  I post my most popular poem for each half month here, two poems per month. ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

Waiting for
you to note
my presence,
I’m rapt by
the glow
of your window
& ignorant
to the stiff
breeze
stroking
my neck.

© Greta Stone

Storm Over Water (2 Poems & Behind-The-Scenes)

Storm over water II poem and writing process by Greta StoneStorm over water poem and writing process by Greta Stone

This poem was written from a daily prompt hosted by DimpleVerse on Twitter.  The title is the prompt word. ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

While I rage
you rest,
quiet & still.
Like a storm
over water
I suck you
in until I
grow weary
of the fight
and spit you
out on dry land
far from home.

© Greta Stone

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning into
a dangerous
cyclone of
delirium.
Like a storm
over water,
I swell,
growing heavy
with frustration
until at last
I drench
you in my
release.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

When I think of a storm over water, I think of how it builds speed in all that open space, how it picks up fluid and drenches the land on impact. Sex can be like that too. (Are you surprised I went there?)

Open yourself
up to me and
I will build like
a storm over
water,

I don’t like build. It isn’t quite the best analogy to leading someone to an orgasm. The orgasm builds, but I don’t.

Open yourself
up to me and
I will churn
[something more]
like a storm
over water,

I feel like the narrator and subject of the poem are getting their actions confused. Who is the storm? Who does the drenching in the end? I think it has to be the same person. One can’t be the storm, churning and building, and then the other have the release. Not in this case anyway.

What does the water do to assist the storm? Nothing. It lies there, open and flat. >__>

Now I’m thinking of an entirely different analogy. Like when you’re raging and the other person is just…chill. It’s infuriating. Let me see where I can go with that.

While I rage
you rest,
quiet & still.
Like a storm
over water
I gather
[momentum],
sucking you
in until I’ve
grown weary
of the fight
and spit you
out on dry land
far from home.

Hm. *ponders* I might just remove the momentum part. It’s more about the all-consuming nature of a fight. I’ll also fix the tense contradictions.

While I rage
you rest,
quiet & still.
Like a storm
over water
I suck you
in until I
grow weary
of the fight
and spit you
out on dry land
far from home.

That’ll do. I’d still like to go back to my original idea though. Let me see if I can make something work with that analogy.

I’m thinking about how the other person can make me build to an intense climax and how those things can relate to the way a storm builds.

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning
into a dangerous
[whirlwind] of
[ecstasy].
Ignoring my
warnings,
you [kickspin]
me into a
rage, a storm
over water
building
until I drench
the land.

Well, this needs work. haha For whirlwind, I really like cyclone. And instead of ecstasy, maybe delirium? That might be too dramatic.

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning into
a dangerous
cyclone of
delirium.
Like a storm
over water,
I will [rage],
drenching
you in my
release.

Not rage. Rampage, tear? Like ripping a path. Grow? Swell. Yes! Swell.

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning into
a dangerous
cyclone of
delirium.
Like a storm
over water,
I will swell,
[an action leading to land/release]
drenching
you in my
release.

The action could be like holding out until the impact of hitting land, or reaching my limit.

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning into
a dangerous
cyclone of
delirium.
Like a storm
over water,
I swell,
growing heavy
with frustration
until [another trigger action]
I drench
you in my
release.

This poem is getting long. >___>

With a whisper
you set off a
swirl of emotions,
twisting and
churning into
a dangerous
cyclone of
delirium.
Like a storm
over water,
I swell,
growing heavy
with frustration
until at last
I drench
you in my
release.

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Knee Deep (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

knee deep poem writing process by Greta Stone

This poem was written from a daily prompt hosted by VerseAngel (knee deep), Jilted Verse (soaring whispers), and bstarverse (touch me) on Twitter.  The title is the prompt word. ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you gather
my soaring
whispers,
touch me
with regard,
and make
me whole.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

I like the contrast of low (knee deep) with high (soaring whispers).

While I’m
knee deep
in [sorrow/servitude],
you [capture]
my soaring
whispers,
wishes of
[completion],
and make
me whole.

Going with sorrow or servitude will make this a very different poem in one direction or the other. I’m leaning toward sorrow because it makes the concept more obscure or intangible. “Serving” on my knees to the one I love who makes me whole is cliche and too simple.

But sorrow isn’t quite right. Dejection, lament, melancholy? Maybe despair although it’s a bit dramatic.

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you [capture]
my soaring
whispers,
wishes of
[completion],
and make
me whole.

I’m going to move on for now and come back to this later. Instead of capture, maybe snatch, collect, gather.

I’m going to stick with completion near the end.

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you gather
my soaring
whispers,
wishes of
completion,
and make
me whole.

I feel like it needs another action before make me whole. I haven’t really been able to stray far from cliche here so I might as well go all the way. haha There was another prompt for touch me by #bstarverse.

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you gather
my soaring
whispers,
wishes of
completion,
touch me
and make
me whole.

The wishes of completion part reads a bit like it should be another action in the list when it’s a clarification of whispers. I could sandwich that phrase in em dashes but in this format, it looks weird.

While I’m knee deep in despair, you gather my soaring whispers—wishes of completion—touch me and make me whole.

Meh. It’s bugging me. Maybe I don’t even need that part. I can use cliche to my advantage here and let it be assumed based on the rest of the poem.

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you gather
my soaring
whispers,
touch me,
and make
me whole.

I could add something after touch me to make it more figurative rather than literal. As in touch me with…kindness? Care? Regard?

While I’m
knee deep
in despair,
you gather
my soaring
whispers,
touch me
with regard,
and make
me whole.

There we go.

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Gain Purchase (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

Gain purchase writing process poetry Greta Stone

This poem was written from a daily prompt hosted by TastyPoem on Twitter.  The title is the prompt word. ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

In restless
nights I
wander my
dreams,
chasing
the prize that
I cannot gain
purchase of,
miles away but
just out of reach.
In defeat I
wake cocooned
in damp sheets
and gloom,
deprived and
broken.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

that I
cannot gain
purchase of

This is what came to me first. Now I’m thinking of how a thing can slip through your fingers and how frustrating that can be. So who or what might the narrator of this poem want? What is slipping away?

In sleepless
nights I
wander my
dreams,
[following/seeing]
the prize
that I
cannot gain
purchase of,
miles away but
just out of reach.
I wake cocooned
in damp sheets,

I just realized that it probably shouldn’t start with sleepless if there are dreams and she/he wakes.

In restless
nights I
wander my
dreams,
[following/seeing]
the prize that
I cannot gain
purchase of,
miles away but
just out of reach.
I wake cocooned
in damp sheets
and hopelessness.

Hopelessness isn’t right. Frustration? Gloom? I like the almost-rhyme of gloom and cocooned. And instead of following, chasing.

In restless
nights I
wander my
dreams,
chasing
the prize that
I cannot gain
purchase of,
miles away but
just out of reach.
I wake cocooned
in damp sheets
and gloom.

The last sentence feels too short. Not enough syllables. Should I combine it to make one whole sentence?


just out of reach,
leaving me
cocooned in
damp sheets
and gloom.

No. Too passive.

In [failure] I
wake cocooned
in damp sheets
and gloom,
deprived and
broken.

That’s sufficiently dramatic. I like it. haha Maybe defeat instead of failure.

In restless
nights I
wander my
dreams,
chasing
the prize that
I cannot gain
purchase of,
miles away but
just out of reach.
In defeat I
wake cocooned
in damp sheets
and gloom,
deprived and
broken.

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