Tag: Behind-The-Scenes

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

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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)

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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)

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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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Estuary (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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Estuary 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).

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of vengeance.
It joins forces
with itself,
hastening,
until my
estuary of
gnarled emotions
chokes it and
releases it
into my vast
deep blue.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

 

Love trickles
through my
veins, searching
for that vast
blue playground,
it joins forces,
surging toward
release,
past my
estuary of
gnarled mishaps,
into the deep blue.

First, love needs to be replaced with something more specific or more physical. Fervor, passion, fury. Hm. Interesting switch of mood. If I’m going to switch moods, then let’s switch moods.

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of freedom.
It joins forces,
surging toward
release,
raking through my
estuary of
gnarled memories,
into my deep blue.

It joins forces (with whom or what)? Itself. But that’s not obvious.

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of freedom.
It joins forces
with itself,
surging
together
toward
release,
raking through my
estuary of
gnarled memories,
into my deep blue.

Any better word than release? Power?

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of freedom.
It joins forces
with itself,
surging
together
toward
power,
raking through my
estuary of
gnarled memories,
into my deep blue.

Oh! Vengeance just came to me. I think I’ll swap it with freedom.

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of vengeance.
It joins forces
with itself,
surging and
raking through my
estuary of
gnarled memories,
into my deep blue.

I don’t like surging and raking. I want to simplify it to just …movement.

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of vengeance.
It joins forces
with itself,
hastening,
through my
estuary of
gnarled memories,
into my deep blue.

I’m getting hung up again on what I want the final outcome to be. If it’s going to end in a vast deep blue, that denotes a cool, calm finish. So something has to stop it in its path. Which actually makes more sense for the estuary.

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of vengeance.
It joins forces
with itself,
hastening,
until my
estuary of
gnarled [feelings],
choking it before
it dips into my
vast deep blue.

Well that just doesn’t even make sense. haha

Fury slithers
through my
veins, in search
of vengeance.
It joins forces
with itself,
hastening,
until my
estuary of
gnarled emotions
chokes it and
releases it
into my vast
deep blue.

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Wrists In Ropes (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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Wrists In Ropes BTS- Poem by Greta Stone

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

I face you
with fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes.
Paralyzed,
I safeword.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

 

I wanted to use wrists in ropes as a metaphor. To me, it relates to being tongue-tied.

words tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes

From there, I thought about the reasons I might be tongue-tied. Flustered. Surprised. Afraid. I liked the idea of fear applying to both parts, being tongue-tied and being physically tied. I wouldn’t like to remain tongue-tied for long. So I thought about what I would do in play if, for whatever reason, I didn’t want my wrists tied anymore. I would safeword.

words tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes
and I
safeword

Echo on words. Plus words was too general and didn’t indicate fear.

fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes
and I
safeword

I knew I wanted to end with safewording. So to make the poem complete, I needed to start with an action.

[face an obstacle]
with fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes
and I
safeword

What would the obstacle be? If I’m tongue-tied, I’m interacting with someone. If I’m tongue-tied with fear, I think of those times when you have something to say or something you should say but are afraid to. The simplest way to put it is…

I face you
with fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes
and I
safeword

Now it feels a bit run-on. Instead of and I safeword, I feel like it needs one more thing to drive the point home, to really emphasize that feeling of being afraid to speak.

I face you
with fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes
[having no other option]
I safeword

I do some thesaurus searching for option, mute, trapped. Then I stumble across paralyzed and it’s perfect.

I face you
with fear tied
to my tongue
like wrists
in ropes.
Paralyzed,
I safeword.

Wayward & Adrift (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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Wayward & Adrift REL BTS- Poem by 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).

My wayward
faith floats
adrift on
a sea of
fantasy.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

My wayward
faith floats
adrift on
a sea of
[something]

Faith could be in God, religion, love, a person, the future. What opposes faith? Doubt, fear. I’d love an F word for alliteration. But I’d also like a word with multiple syllables for meter. Fantasy, fickleness, infidelity? This is going to require some more intense word searching. I go to yougowords.com for help. Freedom, failure, fantasy. I like fantasy which is ironic because I’m such a realist.

My wayward
faith floats
adrift on
a sea of
fantasy.

Transfixed (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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Transfixed REL BTS- Poem by 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).

Transfixed,
I halt,
my objection
pierced by
your threat,
impaled by
your command.
With a rush
of repentance,
I kneel.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

Even though I know what transfixed means, I look it up to find the subtle nuances of it. I like definition 2, which I wasn’t aware of:

pierce with a sharp implement or weapon.
“a field mouse is transfixed by the curved talons of an owl”

I like this much better than the definition I first thought of. A person can be transfixed by a literal object or by an action. A tongue slices and pierces with words.

my objection
transfixed
by your [words]

haha Funny that my first thought is disobedience. >___>

[I halt],
my objection
transfixed
by your
threat,
[impaled]
by your
command.

Already I’m not liking transfixed in this usage. Let me try rearranging.

Transfixed,
[I halt],
my objection
pierced by
your threat,
impaled by
your command.
With a rush
of [heat/desire/submission] repentance
I [drop/bow/kneel]

I do some searching for other words for halt but don’t like anything I come up with. Stop, freeze, and pause are all weaker, in my opinion. Also, repentance comes to me for the latter half.

Transfixed,
I halt,
my objection
pierced by
your threat,
impaled by
your command.
With a rush
of repentance
I [drop/bow/kneel]

I could use the obvious submit for the last part, but I think I prefer kneel.

Transfixed,
I halt,
my objection
pierced by
your threat,
impaled by
your command.
With a rush
of repentance,
I kneel.

I probably could take this one further but I’ll end up running out of characters.

Submerged (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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Submerged BTS - Poem by Greta Stone

 

This poem was written from a daily prompt hosted by DimpleVerse (rendezvous) and TastyPoem (immerse/submerge) on Twitter.  ❤ See more frequent posts on Twitter (text only) and Instagram (with graphics).

Small talk
submerged
by the need
for deeper
contemplations,
a renezvous
of souls.

© Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

Instead of my first reaction of rendezvous leads to immersion, I’d like to reverse that. Immersion leads to a rendezvous of [minds].

Immersed
in [conversation]
[something]
a rendezvous
of mind/spirit/soul

I like the concept of souls at the end. I’m thinking of switching to submerged.

[talk]
submerged
by [desire]
to join
a rendezvous
of souls

Talk, small talk, chatter

Small talk
submerged
by…

Desire, thirst [for deeper things]

Small talk
submerged
by the need
for deeper
contemplations,
a rendezvous
of souls.

First Touch (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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First Touch, sexy poetry

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

I want to bury
my face in
your warm, soft
skin that never
sees the sun.
With the
first touch,
you swell
for me and
I devour.

~Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

While daydreaming, soft, warm skin that never sees the sun came to me. I started writing it into a poem, then went to check for any prompts to add to it. With the first touch fit well.

the soft, warm
skin that never
sees the sun.
[something]
with the
first touch

Going back, it was easy to add an opening, converting the to your.

I want to bury
my face in
your soft, warm
skin that never
sees the sun.
[something]
with the
first touch

When thinking of the something, I decided to switch it up.

I want to bury
my face in
your soft, warm
skin that never
sees the sun.
With the
first touch,
you…

What would he do? Respond. But that’s too generic. Get hard but that’s too obvious. Also, I like ambiguity and I want the poem to work for all genders.

I want to bury
my face in
your soft, warm
skin that never
sees the sun.
With the
first touch,
you swell
for me and
I …

Eat? haha Inhale? Devour. Yes, that. Also, I keep wanting to read warm, soft instead of soft, warm so I switch it.

I want to bury
my face in
your warm, soft
skin that never
sees the sun.
With the
first touch,
you swell
for me and
I devour.

Guide* (Poem & Behind-The-Scenes)

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guide poem by Greta Stone D/s Dom sub

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

Absorbed
in you
I am blind
to the world,
your touch
my anchor,
your voice
my guide.

~Greta Stone

 

Behind-The-Scenes

I want it to be about the absolute trust a sub has for her Dom, that he knows her 100%, what she can handle and what she needs.

[blindfolded/dark]
your voice
my guide

I don’t necessarily want a literal blindfold, but a conscious one, like when the whole world is shut off except his touch at the moment.

Oblivious,
the world
reduced
to your touch,
I am blind,
your touch
my anchor,
your voice
my guide.

I can’t have touch twice.

Oblivious,
the world
reduced
to you,
I am blind,
your touch
my anchor,
your voice
my guide.

The opening is a bit stuttery and I don’t think it’s portraying the message I intend. Oblivious can be taken in a negative way but I don’t mean for it to be.

Absorbed
in you
I am blind
to the world,
your touch
my anchor,
your voice
my guide.