If you enjoyed Lisa's poetry, be sure to drop her a line at our
Also, Lisa has been published by Savoy Magazine.
Always A Reason
The first time I saw you-
leaning nervous,
crushing the stem of your gift,
the rose I still have-
I loved you. Just your short compact body,
alone with your small offering,
waiting for me to be delivered
by the friendly skies.
You still look like that to me:
waiting to be judged,
coiled tight, ready to strike.
All the hurt you've endured
butters my heart down to size
giving you more than you know what to do with.
And when I'm asked,
"Who's your wife?"-
I think before I speak.
'She's the sweetest...
'She's the sexiest...
'She's my reason...
But I tell them only, "Kim",
hold you tighter than you'd like,
and continue to love you.
Lisa Nerone, 2000
Bliss
I haven't asked myself
to speak to you
but I'm waiting to hear my voice
and it will be holding
off the tremble of unreason
that doubts alone foster
Nothing reasonable cuts
from these bones
I only expect us both to ignore
we're playing by silent rules
that Silence Rules
and Ignorance is the Tremble
and voices foster Doubts
and holding on
is the Game alone.
Copyright 1999 Lisa Nerone
Deliverance
Driving high and bringing smooth voltage,
we found eachother in a moment of intimation:
my own breath pushed back at my face,
hovering that low against her skin.
I drive her, it seems, closer and closer,
but always feel I'm her passenger, clinging for speed.
What I wanted was to scream... throttle me...
take my pressure and let it release us, beating
blood through pores, where sweat can't cool.
The speed of love breaks boundaries
with gasped whispers...Come on... come on Baby
...make me...
you may... and listen... you don't have to ask...
just take hold of me... make me into the next step
of your evolution...... make me into someone more than I
started.... you're on the make.... I'm on the threshold...
But it's you bucking, griping, and gasping
and me left wondering what came from your pleading.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
The Sneak
I sneak my eyes over her Microcosm There are instances of sight Morning This woman who loves me I Want You ... to sit on my lap, Feeding I watch you- To Calm the Need ... I stare- The Joining The joining in parts The Hunger Came The hunger came Nothing More The rub came gently By Your Loving Hand (Christmas '97) Christmas came in quiet Places She finds the places To Make Love to You I'd crawl For My Wife, My Beautiful Kim Breasted
though she is my wife.
Something about coveting
her breasts in my vision
feels dirty to me.
Turning primal, and giving in,
I reach suddenly,
steal a stroke,
quick enough to avoid the slap
chasing my victorious hand.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
where words kneel bowed in praise:
the silvered white ideal
that maybe imagination only
would cristalize until
your eyes light reason
as proof alone
and I watch the small wise child
I am
laugh the giggle of knowing
agnostics never spent a moment
to see the Soul of God
shared through your smile.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
hot handed with firm stares,
red faced with shy glares,
this woman moves on me
with a hitched-up-high bravado,
reaching down open, breathing wide
enough to split butch
to pliant femme
then back again.
This woman turns me mortared,
pestling my grit silken,
turning every gray moment passed,
filling more openings
than I came to her with.
This woman borne to me,
ready to hold more than
I've offered, ready to take
everything given, able to be
more than a woman, more than
a man, more
that she is the dream
wife I've woken with,
and for these ten months
I continue to blink, pinch myself
in disbelief...
this woman who loves me
is mine.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
curl up against me,
lay your cheek on
my shoulder
cup your hand on
my breast.
Let me stroke your hair,
neck,
inner thigh...
Let me shift you
over my mouth
and kiss you sweet
to trembling.
I want you
hard between my lips,
sliding circles on
my tongue,
and laying bare
the spirit of sensual,
I want you
to come into me
and feed my hungry soul.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
trace the perfect curve
your ass leaves on my eye
and I find myself approaching-
turning you toward me-
nudging you slowly
up against the wall
Your throat sweet on
my lips
Your gasped whisper
sweet on my ear
I say... breath Baby...
and feel the quiver grow
Your arms come up around me
surrounding my ferocity-
quielling the beast-
and feeding the sweetest urge,
I touch the pulse of love.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
imprinting you indelibly-
a stored resource
to call upon
when my reach is
too short
for the longing.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
was a steady, slow coming-
we moved in silence mostly,
watching the moments
feeling each motion fold
and melt us, simmered
closer each time.
The joining in sum
has come, and the parts
your parts, our parts,
weave the breathe we sigh
into our mouths, gasping
love, grasping parts and souls.
The joining of hearts
is more than words
is bound in trust and tears
til now, we are mended,
melded steel: parts joined:
hearts healed: faith sealed.
The joining has come
with fluid hips working
a steady form of desire
wrapped in time, warped in
the past, and flowing you
into me.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
in the day
while you worked
while I sat
talking to friends-
editing script-
planning dinner.
The crave grew
in the evening
with your free-time
pushing me to resist-
pulling me to conform-
daring me to ignore.
But I could have torn you
unreigned and ravenous
I asked you instead
to come to bed-
to remove your clothes-
while I watched
and I only bit you-
once
and pulled your hair-
twice
while I loved you
before I fucked you-
until the roaring
of my need
filled you to bucking.
As you lay gasping
I watched your stricken face
and thought of tomorrow
while you'd sit working-
while I'd miss you-
and I felt the hunger
stir
and I waited
while it came.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
bare and asking
wide eyed
And in that quiet moment
the opening
the giving
the want of nothing more.
Copyright 1998, Lisa Nerone
staring us down and threatening
more than bows could supplicate
more than wrapped rations could sedate
Flickering attributions, you lit midnight with
such reverant bravery, Christmas Present came
and wept, ending the night of hauntings
and swept our tears to loves' embraces
Four suns have set into memory
bringing candles, mothers, grandmothers,
a lattice of you throughout
and within me, a hunger calmed
by your loving hands.
Copyright 1997, Lisa Nerone
For Kim Strob, my greatest gift, and my Merriest Christmas
that need her
and she creeps inside
quiet and gentle
coaxing and whispering
with a touch so tender
that nothing else is needed.
She comes to me
naked through her being
eliciting my trust in
her giving
and trusting her
strips me down
to bare holds
burning my own protections.
She comes for me
barely contained
in hyper-breath tandem
playing my chords
to vibrate back
and join the tune
playing soft and tracing
the called curves of
these places we've grown.
Copyright 1997 Lisa Nerone
hair by hair
muscle through tendon -
toes and arches
rise to my kisses.
I'd caress you
shoulder to breast
hand to nipple combat -
eyes locked
in their own mind fuck -
your exploding breath
coming in my mouth -
knees rocking against my shoulders
heels digging into my ass.
I'd dive down deep salt
climb up
dive and dive
break through -
spasms moan you out
of your protection
and into my arms
for good.
Copyright 1997 Lisa Nerone
I was crested
in the wave of
moist breath heaving
and she rolled
sweet over my reasons
I'd forgotten
what reason
was other than
this breasted
feed upon her salted washes
and wanted nothing more
than her thrown wreckage
drenched, spent
cleaving to my shore...
Copyright 1997 Lisa Nerone
