Memory Poem #8: Cyan & Jillian: Morning Run

Cyan met Jillian in the hallway
for their early morning run.
She looked sexy in tight-
fitting sports attire.

He recalled her knocking
on his door late last night
while he was satisfying
himself and how he told her
to go away.

A little embarrassed, he said,
“Sorry about last night,
I was tired.”
“It’s OK, no prob,”
she said, turning pink.

Confused at the time, 
she had called Jess,
who had suspected
what he would’ve been up to
after an unfinished
make-out session.

Cyan stretched his arms and legs
while enjoying the morning breeze.
Jillian followed suit,
listening to the music
of the ocean waves.

She glanced at Cyan –
his hair ruffling in the wind,
and she smiled to herself.
Doing something she loved
with someone she started to love
was a beautiful gift.

“I’ll race you,” he said.
“You’re on.”  Jillian sprinted
along the beach, kicking sand
behind her.

Cyan watched as she ran
gracefully, happily
through the sand.

He admired her buttocks
moving forward and back,
but forced himself to focus
on her ponytail instead
swinging back and forth
like a pendulum.
Cyan was hypnotized
by her.

Jillian felt electricity
shoot through her body,
tingling her heart,
as Cyan brushed
against her arm,
catching up to her.

“Hey Beautiful,
what are you running from?”
he teased.  She blushed.

Cyan slowed as they jogged
by a juice stand.
“Let’s stop here,” he said.
Jillian tilted her head in question.
“They have the best pineapple juice,”
he chirped, like a little kid.
Jillian grinned.

Realizing that his pocket 
was empty, he looked at her
sheepishly.  
“Can you spot me?
I forgot my wallet.”
Jillian paid for the juices.

He was right.
The juice was sweet, magical,
refreshing.
The liquid slid down
her throat, flowed through
her veins, and touched
her heart.  She savored
every last drop
before they kissed.

StockSnap_MYTDB6EMBF
image from StockSnap

Read more of their love story here.

Memory Poem #7: Cyan & Lance: Guy Talk

Late in the evening,
Lance heard three knocks at the door
and knew it was Cyan
probably goofing off.

Cyan had good looks,
but Lance had never seen him
look like a celebrity heartthrob 
with his hair disheveled,
shirt unbuttoned
and abs exposed.

“Can I come in?” he asked.
Lance moved aside,
closing the door behind him.

Cyan sat on the bed,
looking flustered.
Lance raised an eyebrow.
“You were with a girl,
I presume?”
Cyan nodded.
“Jillian,” he said

Lance’s heart
skipped a beat.
Jillian was a sweet girl,
he even had a little crush.
But his friend was also
a great guy.

“You guys didn’t…
did you?” Lance asked.
Cyan shook his head.
“No, she’s not ready,
but, I really, really want to,
but I also don’t want to
because I can’t commit.
I don’t know what to do.”

Cyan let out a sigh
putting his face
into his hands.
“I’ve never seen you
so flustered before,
especially over a girl.”

Cyan chuckled,
“Tell me about it.
It’s like I can’t get her
out of my head.
When I’m not with her,
I think about her.
When I see her,
I just want to touch her,
hold her, call her mine.
What is wrong with me?”

“Sounds like you’re falling in love,”
Lance laughed.  Cyan groaned,
“But Europe, in two weeks…”

“I haven’t seen you this happy
with a girl, ever, not even
when you were with Bri.
You can walk away, protect your heart, 
or follow it, and see where it leads.
Taking chances, living life,
that’s your motto, right?”

Cyan looked up
and met his eyes.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
He stood up,
tapping Lance’s shoulder.  
“Thanks, bud.  I gotta go.”
“To see Jillian?”
“Nah, I might scare her off
with my raging hormones.
I’m just gonna, uh…
satisfy myself,” he winked.
“TMI!” Lance joked,
closing the door.

heartthrob
image from Google

Read more of the love story here.

The Long Walk

I’m taking a quick break from the Memory Poems of my characters to post one of my own this week.  This was written during Poets at Play.

The Long Walk

She remembered hopping off the bus
some sixteen years ago
carrying her baby blue Jansport backpack
filled to the rim with binders and books,
something she bore on her shoulders
5 days a week, even in the rain.

It was raining then, water drops
came crashing down.  The wind
pushed her left and right.
It was as if Mother Storm
slapped her in the face with spit.

She opened her portable umbrella,
The useless flimsy thing
was no match for the wind,
being pulled inside out
this way and that way,
a broken fragile puppet of the wind.

She struggled to maintain control,
so it wouldn’t fly away,
while crossing the street
looking like a helpless mess,
as onlookers watched
from the safety of their cars.

Raindrops streamed down her face.
Rain pelted her clothes
from slanted angles.
Little drops of water
on her jeans 
were like dark blue dots
that grew into patches
that eventually covered the leg.

Her once dried socks
were wet and squishy.
Her once bright mood
became cloudy like the storm.
She made it home, soaking wet.

It was one of the longest

10 minute walks she’s ever taken
alone
with her friend, El Nino
during high school
in the early millennium.

Flash forward – 2016/2017,
the storm is coming,
school is closed.
Children deprived
of experiencing
these memories.

a-girlwalkinginrain
image from angelgran’s photobucket

Memory Poem #6: Jillian & Jessica: Girl Talk

Jillian’s heart fluttered
like a butterfly, listening 
to the ringtone
as a million thoughts
swirled into mind.
She needed
a soothing voice.

“Hello,” Jess said,
“How’s the trip?”
Jillian smiled, 
no longer flustered.
“Great, I uh… think I fell in love.”

Jess raised an eyebrow,
“At the beach house,
while babysitting?
Are you sure?
Tell me more,” she sang, 
sitting upright.

“He’s Ted’s brothers
close friend.”
“How hot?” Jess teased.

Jillian blushed, remembering
Cyan’s lips against hers,
his rock hard body
rocking against hers,
his throbbing groin rubbing
against hers, separated
by cotton jeans.

She sighed… recalling the yearning
sensation that burned through her
and the self-control she mustered
to suppress it.

Jess chuckled,
“Fantasizing, are we?”
Jillian turned red.
“Yes, he’s hot…”
“Well, what’s he like?”

“He’s got these deep blue eyes
that make me melt
into his arms, into his soul.
Graceful at sports.
Wisdom beyond his years,
loves his bike, loves living life,
and is adored by kids.

He’s smart and a smart ass.
Bold enough to be goofy,
bold enough to be sweet,
bold enough to truly care,
and I get lost in his eyes,
in his heart, in his soul,
as if I had known him
for years instead of days.

I think I’ve fallen in love
with a man I barely met,
and I’m addicted
to his touch.”

“Wow, soulful confession,
but I sense a problem.”
“He’s leaving in two weeks,
back to Europe for school.
I’m afraid to fall in love,
especially for the first time.”

“Calling me late at night,
gushing over a guy, this is a first
and I know you’re not stupid.
Jill, this is the guy you dreamt about,
the one we thought didn’t exist.

You might regret falling in love
and getting hurt,
but you will definitely regret
letting him go, letting go
of something magical
before it had a chance
to start, to shine, to grow.

You’ve never felt like this before,
if you let go now,
would you want to look back
and wonder what might have been?”

girl-talk
image from practicalhappiness.com

Read more of their story here.

The Encounter

Last month, I attended Poets at Play for the first time at the Markham House in History Park, San Jose.  It was nice to meet a small group of poets and spend a nice afternoon writing and discussing poetry.  The theme for the month was “memory.”  I was able to write two poems that afternoon and I will share one with you today, the one I didn’t read out loud.  A poet suggested writing memory from someone else’s perspective, so I decided to write this.  I hope you enjoy it.

The Encounter

Coming out of the trashcan,
I felt my fur on end…
a pair of eyes watching me.
She was there, the human,
looking at me, watching…
my every move.

I jumped back in,
I jumped back out.
I poked my head
around.
She was still there
watching me.

I scurried down the trashcan.
I scurried up a tree,
found a little nook
that was comforting to me.

I lost sight of her.
She lost sight of me,
or so I thought,
until I felt her eyes
once again, watching me.

I pretended not to see.
She pretended to let me be,
walking away,
so I could enjoy my day.

Maybe a squirrel and a girl
could be friends.

17819883_10210579495497673_1818647979_o

 

Memory Poem #5: Cyan & Jillian: The Make-Out Session

A few gentle knocks on the door.
She opened it and let him in.
“I missed you,” he said,
cupping her face in his hands,
kissing her tenderly.

She embraced his shoulders,
kissing him back,
running her fingers through his hair,
massaging his neck.

His hands caressed her back.
He kissed her lips, her jaws, her neck.
Consciously or subconsciously,
they made their way towards the bed.

He gently laid her down,
her hair spilling onto the pillow.
He straddled her,
kissing her tenderly on the lips,
sometimes coming up
for breath.

She removed his button shirt
and caressed his arms.
He pulled her t-shirt over her head,
admiring her brassiere,
kissing her on the lips,
to the neck, to the chest.
She sighed tenderly.

He touched her abs gently.
She felt a bulge and a pulse.
His hands laid gently
on the button of her jeans.
She flinched, he stopped.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she said.
He sighed and whispered,
“It’s OK,
I didn’t expect… to get this far.”

She sat up, searching his eyes.
He smiled, kissing her on the forehead.
“Goodnight.”

She watched him leave
not knowing what to feel
a tightening in her chest.

make-out-session
photo from StockSnap

Read more of their love story here.

Memory Poem #4: Cyan & Jillian: A Whole New World

Standing barefoot on the beach,
wearing a borrowed teal dress,
Jillian felt butterflies in her stomach
as all eyes were watching her.

Seven year old Ted had insisted
she sing “A Whole New World”
in the carefree way she did at home,
only in front of the beach bonfire.

She glanced at Cyan.
His face glowed in the moonlight.
“You’ll do great,” he said.
Ted had insisted
Cyan play Aladdin.

Sam started the music,
his fingers strumming the guitar,
rhythmically, bringing them to the city
of Agrabah.

As if on cue, Cyan reaches out
his arms, towards Jillian.
“I can show you the world
shining, shimmering, splendid.”
He admires the moonlit rays
shining on her dark, long hair,
illuminating her gentle face.
“Tell me, Princess, now when did
you last let your heart decide?”

He dances on the sand around her,
barefoot, in his rolled up slacks
and purple button shirt.
“I can open your eyes
take you wonder by wonder,”
he holds her hands and twirls her.
“Over, sideways and under
on a magic carpet ride.”
She dances with him.

“A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us ‘no’
or where to go
or say we’re only dreaming.”

She joins in.
“A whole new world
a dazzling place I never knew.”
He holds her by the waist
and lifts her towards the sky.
“But when I’m way up here,
It’s crystal clear
that now I’m in a whole new world with you.”

He sets her down, they twirl in the sand.
Cyan and Jillian dance to the music,
with the moonlight as their spotlight
and the stars as their witness,
for a moment, forgetting
the rest of the world.
“Unbelievable sights,
indescribable feeling,
soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
through an endless diamond sky.”

As the music comes to an end,
Cyan pulls Jillian close to him.
“A whole new world.”
“A whole new world,” she repeats.
“That’s where we’ll be,” he sings.
“That’s where we’ll be,” she echoes.

He pushes her out with his hand,
she twirls away.
“A thrilling chase.”
She twirls back in.
“A wondrous place.”
Holding her close and meeting her gaze,
“For you and me,”
they finished together.

Their gaze broken
by the sound
of applause.

aladdin

Memory Poem #3: Sam & Rachel: The Proposal

Every so often, I will take a break from our main characters, Cyan & Jillian, and focus on some of their friends.  This week, we will witness a special moment shared by Sam & Rachel.

Sam & Rachel: The Proposal

Painting at the beach
was Cyan’s idea.
Proposing to Rachel
was Sam’s secret.

Sam felt the weight
of the box
inside his pocket.
He knew the weight
of her happiness
was in his hands.
He continued to paint.

With a simple brush stroke
of white paint, Sam highlighted
the sparkle in the ring
just before Cyan approached
his piece of work.

Fidgeting in place,
Sam felt Rachel’s eyes 
of curiosity
burn through his back.
He felt dizzy
from the afternoon sun.

“And Sam, here, has painted a lovely
scene at the beach,” said Cyan.
“Soft blue ocean waves
cascading onto the sand.
A beautiful young woman
in a violet dress
standing next to her beau.
He’s down on one knee…”
Cyan pauses in realization.

Rachel’s heart skips a beat.
Sam moves aside
so that she could see
the painting.
A gasps escapes her lips
as she covers her face.

He reveals a jewelry box
and gets down
on one knee.
The box opened
 
ever so slowly.
Rachel felt like a little girl
presented with candy.
The diamond sparkled brightly
in mid-day sun
casting light rays and rainbows
on the white sand beach.

Sam speaks,
“I remember hearing
the most beautiful laughter
the morning of my exam.
I searched all over
for the owner
of that voice.
When I finally found her,
I was taken
by her beauty and poise.

Rachel, you are perfection
in my eyes.
Wisdom, compassion, beauty,
confidence with humility.
You brighten my day
with your presence.
You make me a wiser,
more tender man.

I am in love
with the sparkle
in your soul
and forever want

to be by your side.
Rachel, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she exclaimed
as tears streamed down her face.
He slipped the ring
onto her finger and she threw herself
into his arms.
The heat from the sun
warmed their hearts.

beach-proposal
~ image from Google

Read more Memory Poems here.

Memory Poem #2: Cyan & Jillian: The Painting

He handed her the painting,
the one he did this afternoon.
“This is for you,” he said,
as he waltzed back to his room.

A night time scene
at the beach.
A little boy and a little girl
cuddled together,
watching the moonlight
dance across the ocean
and the stars twinkle
in the dark blue sky.

Multiple flashlights illuminated
colored glass bottles
of different shapes and sizes
against a big ocean rock.
Red, blue, purple, green, yellow
danced in the shadow
like the Aurora Borealis.

It was a magical scene,
so gentle, so touching,
like music to the eyes.
She smiled and held the painting
against her chest, to her heart,
as she remembered
him and her
at the beach
that night.

the-painting
Images from Google – composite done by Jenuine Inspiration (me)

Follow their love story here.  Poems will be posted weekly.

Memory Poem #1: Cyan & Jillian: First Kiss

She didn’t know why
she agreed to the kiss,
spontaneity, maybe.
She didn’t know what
she should expect
as he leaned in close.
She smelled the scent
of the sand, the ocean
and the beach.

Her heart skipped a beat
as she felt his breath
against her cheek.
His lips met hers,
soft and gentle,
like the ocean breeze.

Closing her eyes,
she breathed in…
He leaned in…
closer.
His body inches from hers,
her body against the wall.
She melted
into his arms.

For a moment, it was as if
they had disappeared
into another world
where no one was watching,
not a tree, not a bird, not a soul.

He pulled back gently,
both of them
in a daze.
He blinked,
setting down her suitcase
and cracking a smile,
as if nothing had happened.
“Here’s your room,” he said.

first-kiss
~ image from Google

Follow their love story here.  Poems will be posted weekly.