About The Blog

Arthor Journer is my pen name.
"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.
In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

That Sunday Morning

You lie in my arms and look into my closed eyes
Trying to define the lapse of understanding
How can you form words to describe paradise?
And how can you feed flesh that is so demanding?
I hear the questions you ask with our mouth fully closed
Lips are now bare its rich colors I hungrily swallowed
Our passion an ocean that ebbs and flows
Paths through darkness and drought our souls willfully followed
We stare into the night counting tiles on the ceiling
Trying to give reasons for questions unanswered
How can words envelope what we are feeling?
And how can you hear the lyrics if you are a dancer?
I hear the questions you ask as you pretend to sleep
Hair undone and clothes carpeting chairs and on the floor
Our ecstasy a process to sow and reap
Paths of bliss that nerves and flesh treasure and adore
You lay next to me and I breathe your breath
Trying to taste the thoughts that you hide in fear
How can words define the rise and death?
And how can lips speak inside here?

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