“A Thousand Kisses Deep”

creative musings [dragon]

“A Thousand Kisses Deep”

Poem Written & Read by Leonard Cohen

Post by Jennifer Kiley

Post Saturday 12th July 2014

 

Sony – Two Worlds

“That’s What I Heard You Say”
Original Poem Written & Read by Leonard Cohen

Don’t matter if the road is long
Don’t matter if it’s steep
Don’t matter if the page is gone
It’s written that we’ll meet.
I loved you when you opened
like a lily to the heat
and I love you when it closes
a thousand kisses deep.

I know you had to lie to me
I know you had to cheat
You learned it on your father’s knee
and at your mother’s feet.
But did you have to fight your way
across the burning street
where all our vital interests lay
a thousand kisses deep…

[the rest of poem below is Not on video]

Don’t matter if you’re rich and strong
Don’t matter if you’re weak
Don’t matter if you write a song
The nightingales repeat
Don’t matter if it’s nine to five
Or timeless and unique
You ditch your life to stay alive
A thousand kisses deep

I hear their voices in the wine
That sometimes did me seek
The band is playing Auld Lang Syne
But the heart will not retreat
There’s no forsaking what you love
No existential leap
As witnessed here in time and blood
A thousand kisses deep

toulouse-lautrec-in-bed-the-kiss

In Bed The Kiss - Artist Toulouse Lautrec

 

Private Moments #65 – “Say Goodbye To Love”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #65 
Poem “Say Goodbye To Love”
b
y Jennifer Kiley
Poem for Private Writings: Chapter #65
“I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”
Painting “Flames Pouring Down”
by Jk McCormack
Post Monday 9th June 2014

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

flames pouring down - jk mccormack (c) jkm 2014

Flames Pouring Down - Jk McCormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“Say Goodbye To Love”
By Madison Taylor
2nd December 2008

Say goodbye to love
The hardest pain to feel
Being left alone in the dark
Lovers and friends
Always heading a way
Scattering the fields of earth
Planting ideas for nurturing
Watching their future grow
Into tomorrow’s perspectives

The present is fulfilling
Gorging on imagination
A pathway forward
Overflowing and inviting
The Muse a constant inspiration

Follow her serendipitously
A yet unsculpted “Angel”
Crying out to be released
Only wanting to be protective
A Guardian to serve what she believes

Giving guidance and understanding
Listen for the quiet in her voice
Nothing to fear in the mysterious
Often the unknown is more secure
Than the known that causes pain

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif


“Every Rose Has Its Thorn” - Rock of Ages

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”

— Jkm the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

red heart outline with pale blue bg

* * * * * * *

Private Moments #64 – “Get Out of My Head”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #64: “Get Out of My Head
Poem Written by Jennifer Kiley
For Private Writings: Chapter #64 - “Get It Out of My Head”

PaintingHeart Spirals” by Jk McCormack
Post Monday 2nd June 2014

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

heart spirals - jk mccormack (c) jkm 2014

Heart Spirals - Jk McCormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“Get Out of My Head”
By Madison Taylor
25th November 2008

Get out of my head
You’re invading my space
Don’t like people
Getting up in my face
It’s a disgrace
To be so blown away
While life treats the delicate
Like they’re a disease
No sympathy please

People starving
Some living in peace
Excess food remaining
Governments complaining
Where’s the human generosity
When all could partake
In the grandest feast
If the world learned sharing
Hope ain’t filled with caring
We’re keenly in need of serenity
So Peace will abound

I feel the pressure’s back inside my head
Seeing how futility feeds the rage
Depending on “them”
The strangers of kindness”
Not knowing who’s giving
Wanting to believe in Hope
Where there is none
Smile when all I see is sadness

Death waits patiently
So we need overwhelmingly
To believe the darkness will fade
And the light will find its way

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Until - by James Conlee

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”

— Jkm the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

red-heart-for mj ghost 1

*        *         *        *        *        *        *

“On the Pulse of the Morning”

poetry out loud - day title saturday

“On the Pulse of the Morning”

Poem Written by Maya Angelou

Post Created by Jennifer Kiley

Post Saturday 31st May 2014


Maya Angelou -“On the Pulse of the Morning”

“On the Pulse of the Morning”
Written by Maya Angelou
Spoken at President Clinton’s
First Inauguration 1993

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveler, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers- desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot…
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours- your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister’s eyes, into
Your brother’s face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

- Maya Angelou -

maya angelou insightful

MAYA ANGELOU
1928 – 2014
R.I.P.

* * * * * * *

Special Edition: Maya Angelou R.I.P.

special edition day any
Maya Angelou R.I.P.

Special Edition

Post Created by Jennifer Kiley

Post Wednesday 28th May 2014

 

Poet, author Maya Angelou dies at 86

maya angelou insightful

Hillel Italie
May 28, 2014
Filed 03:59 PM EST

NEW YORK (AP) — Maya Angelou, a modern Renaissance woman who survived the harshest of childhoods to become a force on stage, screen, the printed page and the inaugural dais, died Wednesday, her son said. She was 86.

Angelou’s son, Guy B. Johnson, said the writer died at her home in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, where she had been a professor of American studies at Wake Forest University since 1982.

Tall and regal, with a deep, majestic voice, Angelou defied all probability and category, becoming one of the first black women to enjoy mainstream success as an author and thriving in virtually every artistic medium. The young single mother who worked at strip clubs to earn a living later wrote and recited the most popular presidential inaugural poem in history. The childhood victim of rape wrote a million-selling memoir, befriended Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., and performed on stages around the world.

An actress, singer and dancer in the 1950s and 1960s, she broke through as an author in 1969 with “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” which became standard (and occasionally censored) reading, and was the first of a multipart autobiography that continued through the decades. In 1993, she was a sensation reading her cautiously hopeful “On the Pulse of the Morning” at President Bill Clinton’s first inauguration. Her confident performance openly delighted Clinton and made the poem a best-seller, if not a critical favorite.

FOR COMPLETE ARTICLE GO TO THIS LINK ON HUFFPOST

The Following Video is Maya Angelou speaking for herself.

Here, I Give You, Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou [Director's Cut] – Cole Haan

Private Moments #63: “Pushing the Limits”

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #: “Pushing the Limits”

Poem Written for Private Writings: Chapter #63 - “I Forgot To Remember”
“Pushing the Limits” by Jennifer Kiley

Post Monday 26th May 2014

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

shadowspeak by jkmccormack (c) JkM 2013

“shadowspeak” - jk mccormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“Pushing the Limits”
By Madison Taylor/jkm
18th November 2008

Want to see how far
I can push the limits
to my honesty…

It’s necessary for me
to open up this door
with steel bolted lock cutters.

No one was allowed
in that special room
but me.
I kept all the real secrets
hidden there.

I knew when I was there,
I felt my deep love
for someone
who was also a girl
that felt the way
I did.

No man’s hand
on me
ever felt good
except once

an abuser
did something
to my body
I hadn’t expected.

Reason was
I never knew
such a feeling
existed.

That day
he stole away
my innocence.
The best feelings
a woman or young girl
can ever experience

and an abuser
possesses it
now.

He has taken it
and locked it away
in his unimaginative mind.

I fantasized many times
how I would seek
my revenge on him
and steal
my innocence back.

I was going
to stalk him
the way he did me
and the animals
he hunted
and killed

I wanted to turn
that around on him
and stalk him
making him
the hunted
and I would be
the hunter
who took him down.

It was
a repetitious fantasy.
I have never
forgotten a moment
of seeing him
inside my head
the satisfaction I felt
imagining
taking him out
from this world

Far away
from harming me further
or harming anyone else ever.

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Every Breath You Take - Police w/ Sting
[Sarcastically It Is Perfect for the real stalkers out there]

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”

— Jkm the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*        *       *       *       *       *      *

REMEMBER

DO WHAT YOU LOVE

Private Moments #62 “Act Natural Be GAY”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #62“Act Natural Be GAY”
Poem Written for Private Writings: Chapter #62 – “Act Natural Be GAY”
Written by Jennifer Kiley

Post Monday 19th May 2014
Her Highness [the shadow] Immortalized by Jk McCormack

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

Wet 029

Her Holiness [the shadow] Immortalized - jk mccormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is to be loved and to love in return”
- Moulin Rouge – Baz Luhrman

“Act Natural Be GAY”
By Madison Taylor
11th November 2008

It is natural for me to be a lesbian
Women are so attractive
In a way that men lack the spark
Men can be so beautiful
I admire their beauty
It just does not awaken the fire
Feeling a woman’s blaze
My hands caress her without touching
This desire does not exist for a man

The sex was expected and silently coerced
A man’s touch caused my mind to withdraw
Well ahead of the physical escape
The body is trapped in paralysis
Women draw me near but never for a man
The man’s skin is rough when it tears the skin
The feel of a woman’s flesh is smooth
Bringing out the craving for pleasure
With a man what is felt is I am a caged cat
Pacing back and forth seeking an escape
Feeling time has caught me in its spider’s web

Someday learning the force needed
To make No mean stop
Someday I will feel free to go
When No will be respected
To stop – say No and walk away
For so long it felt like a trap
No way out – in a cage with locks
With no keys to set me free

My will not my own
Does it yet belong to me
Will I ever know the feeling
To be me to be free
Or whomever I want to be
The choice should be mine
Always mine alone

Only exception should come from me
Someday I may want to surrender
Show trust with my lover implicitly
Wanting to trust she will be slow
Her hands gentle
Her lips soft and sweet
Waiting and wanting my response
Asking me what I want
What can she do to pleasure me

To say what kind of touches
I’ll feel inside of me
An exciting and frightening thought
Wanting sensations to drive me wild
Building the passion to set me free
Wanting the feelings to be
What I want them to be

To make love inside the lava flowing
Slowness building up the intensity
Let the love making come gently
Passionately growing and glowing
Giving me what I need and want to feel
Coming ever so slowly – so patiently
No force do I feel
Just letting go naturally

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Until - by James Conlee

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage to allow the seer into the private moments of our imaginative lives.”

— jkm the secret keeper aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*      *      *

dont be afraid to express ur sexuality fantasies poster

Remember

Do What You Love

same sex logos in framed in rainbow colors  without black frame 2