Another Cinquain

Stillness
Is that moment
Right after we love
When I have to remind myself
To breathe.

In the Cinquain mood again...

Cowboy
Denim-encased
I silently give thanks
To the person who invented
Wranglers

More cinquains = Yielded

Yielded

Power
carefully used
subtly, in ways unseen
Dominion is wielded over
my soul.

Enclose
me in your strength
Remove my defenses
all my vulnerability
is yours.

Mercy
is what I beg
but it’s not what I need
Show me none. Make me the cream of
your crop.

Yielding
I bend to you
like clay under your touch
I am molded to your desires
Make me.

Travel
my body with
your fingers. Follow with
Your mouth. Discover my secrets
Explore.

Inside
Within my walls
you stroke and strum my soul
creating intimate music
I sing.

*******

Again, another group of cinquains composed at different times, when joined creating a new piece.


The artwork on these pieces is word clouds from http://www.wordle.net/

Grouped Cinquains = Yielding

Yielding

No way
not me, not that
Silky ties tease my skin
well, maybe just a little kink
this once.

Open
Under your eyes
Restrained, wrists to ankles
Vulnerable, like a rose bud
I bloom.

Rising
To meet your strokes
I writhe within my bonds
Anchored to the earth, you teach me
to fly.

*********

These were three separate cinquains, written at different times. However, when grouped together, they form a longer piece.

Hands

Strong, powerful hands travel soft curves and warm flesh.

Who would guess that such large hands were capable of such delicate precision?

Each feathery touch designed for maximum effect.

Calloused thumbs gently brush tightened nipples.

Purposeful fingers probe slippery folds

and stroke…

There

and

oh yes...

right

there.

*****

Originally published in 2003

Once

A line in the flesh barely visible,
the faint scar the only evidence
that once this heart
was tethered to another.

Strong hands once held a fragile soul
contained within a wild fire
masterfully manipulating the flame
like an artist, kindling the passions
that set the spirit ablaze.

Once, an uncompromising will
held an unruly heart joyously captive
in the tender bondage
of love.

****

Another old favorite. I find that I am particularly poetically prolific when filled with angst... Happiness steers me more toward cinquains.

C'est la vie.

Cruelty

Cruelty comes in so many forms
a slap
a harsh word
a demeaning name.

It can come in the form of manipulation
self-pity meant to inspire guilt
devious and intricate webs of deceit
lies and untruths.

Or sometimes
it comes in a more quiet way
without words
or sound.

Sometimes
it is a silent turning away
leaving behind the remnants of a loving heart

laid open like a wound.

Badges

A finger slowly traces

the tiny badge of blue.

Once a symbol of love,
a badge of honor,

a sign of the fragile filament

that connected one soul to another.

One move

and the badge is revealed,

seen clearly for what it is

a source of pain

just... a bruise.

*****

This was one of the very first poems I ever posted publicly. The response is what inspired me to continue writing. I've been told I expose too much of myself when writing poetry, but I think that's the purpose of writing. If you don't expose something, why bother?

More Cinquains

Liar
Call me pretty
Tell me I’m beautiful
In the darkness as we fuck, I
Believe.

**********

Whispers
Stranger's hot breath
A naughty suggestion
Of an impromptu diversion
Shiver.

**********

Arouse
Slowly nurture
The fire that burns within
Building, stoking the embers of
Desire.

***********************************

I am currently working on my own collection of alphabetical erotic cinquains. This is an addictive form of poetry - that rhythm draws me in. However, there are some letters that do not lend themselves easily to erotica... like X and H...

Today's Cinquain

Gadgets
Mechanical
Toys that buzz and vibrate
Impersonal love. I prefer
Handmade.

The Line

The Line



They dance,
each on their own side
of the line.

He, on his side,
she, on hers.
Each dancing close
to the line between,
then falling back.

Daring to approach
the clear demarcation
between male and female.

Circling
and weaving...
An ancient rhythm sets the tempo
as they dip and swirl.

Until
in an instant
they touch.

And the line is forever
blurred.





© Dani Benjamin, 2002. All rights reserved.

Cinquains

Composing Cinquains sparks my creative muse like nothing else.

I was introduced to Cinquains through the writer's list at ERWA (Erotic Readers and Writers Association). It is an addictive form of poetry sometimes described as the American form of Haiku. Short, non-rhyming stanzas with specific syllable counts (2,4,6,8,2) that lend a distinctive rhythm to the words. Having been a dancer, it is that rhythm that drew me and once I learned, I was hooked.

We created an erotic alphabet of cinquains (published on the ERWA site in July of 2003).

Here are some of mine:

Cowboy
Denim-encased
I silently give thanks
To the person who invented
Wranglers

Dark eyes
Travel soft curves
Buzzing over petals
Drinking the essence of my soul
Like bees

Flannel
His old plaid shirt
Victoria’s Secret
Cannot compare to a shirt that’s
Flesh-warmed.

Quasi
Almost, not quite
That’s how you operate
Even the way you make love is
Half-assed.

Stillness
In that moment
Right after we love
When I have to remind myself
To breathe.




For more info on Cinquains, look here: http://www.ahapoetry.com/CINQHMPG.HT