Three steamy poems, by Adam Donaldson Powell.

Well, here I am … back in “the painter’s abyss” — scratching my head and my balls, while waiting for the Inspiration and Answer to suddenly strike like lightning. In the meantime, here is an earlier post from the archives … for those that missed it.

creamy overcast skies.

creamy overcast skies,
thick as yoghurt,
remind me of
you … and me …
and …
well, you know …

 

ciel couvert, couleur crème.

ciel couvert, couleur crème
épais comme le yaourt,
qui me rappelle
toi … et moi …
et aussi …
tu sais quoi …

 


Tal vez.

¡Fuerza!
El amor.
¡Fuerza!
El sexo.
¡Fuerza!
Las mentiras.
Y tal vez te encuentre
en mis sueños errantes.

 

Peut-être.

Vive
l’amour !
Vive
le sexe !
Vive
le mensonge !
Peut-être t’ai-je rencontré
dans l’errance de mes rêves.

 


blade.

our dance is ritual;
a senseless obsession
between two moths
playing with fire.
no chains, no whips.
just bondage … and the
ever-sweet consequence of
a sabre’s cutting edge.

 

lame.

notre danse est un rituel ;
une obsession insensée
entre deux papillons de nuit
jouant avec le feu.
ni chaînes, ni fouet.
juste une attache …
et les douces conséquences
de la lame tranchante d’un sabre.

(by Adam Donaldson Powell, published in my award-winning poetry book entitled “Gaytude”, co-authored with Albert Russo, 2009, Xlibris.)

Adam selfie - September 2014.
Adam selfie – September 2014.

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