Touch me
not with your hands
but with an open mind
to truly let me in
Begin with a truth
keep it consistent
capture my attention
leaving me scared of— the end
-Jg
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Hebrew King
PRO MEMBER
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CATEGORY
romance
Touch me
not with your hands
but with an open mind
to truly let me in
Begin with a truth
keep it consistent
capture my attention
leaving me scared of— the end
-Jg
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COMMENTS
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The Immortal Wize says: Awe...A perfect poem. |
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Charles2 says: Sublime |
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mlowe5 says: A great inspiring write. Will try to do so.! ONE. Peace and Love. |
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Ms.PoeticPassion says: Love it. |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Hebrew King
Gravitational PullWhere have you gone? I mean, how have you been? Because, of course, you could never leave my thoughts.
I keep returning to the orbit where we used to meet, where we’d share insights, but the absence leaves me blind.
My words are blurred; I can’t seem to focus them, for they don’t spell much without your clarity.
I try my best to leave and vow to never return, yet a faint grasp tugs at me to be patient.
And so, I will keep existing, here, if you need me…
—JG ©2026 |
Take My Hand"Every minute that ticks by without you at my side is a reason to tell the clock that it’s time is up— take my hand." —JG @2026 |
OxygenHigh above all else, we whisper confessions, palming our giggles so they won’t get out.
For she makes up for every good breath ever withheld from me, pressing my chest gently with lips to my mouth.
—JG ©2026 |
Grand RisingEvery morning is a grand rising, ascending in the midst of your vast mind, you priming mine to paint it with your lightness.
Where chaotic strokes of weight used to be, you wash the canvas clean in regal gold, and reinvent the sharp edges into velvet lilac.
I commend your artistic eye, for brushing with patience, and having a keen attention for detail.
For it is hailed how you distill me, scrubbing my thoughts, and massaging my muddled temple, leaving me a simple way to exhale.
Now hold the palette steady while we blend this quiet space into a living gallery... |
AnesthesiaMy Anesthesia, you keep me under your power the way you put me to bed.
The way you tuck me in tight is a wonderful touch, feeling the midnight in your flora duvet.
I drift in the quiet, a willing surrender, where shadows dissolve into soft, heavy lace.
Mm..time goes tender and distant from there, ahh in your cohesive embrace.
—JG ©2026 |
The Currency of Being FoundDon’t look now, just be you and his eyes will find your artifacts.
You have been digging to locate what makes you a treasure when you shouldn’t have to ask.
Don’t ever question what makes you a good coin amongst many— a penny for your thoughts
Toss it in water and let it sink in; you my dear are what it means to be brought.
—To the forefront of any sensible man’s mind
—JG ©2026 |
The Onset HighMy mind has been wandering, wading through every thought, dismissing those that aren’t of you. For they are just distant hums, blurs of noise I rummage through.
Every path my attention takes just loops back to what you bring, leaving me unable to pillar time, tasks, and routine things.
You are my drug, my dopamine— keeping me cognizant of the high I need, spotlighting the onset of my anxiety.
—JG ©2026 |
Cupid’s BowI’m shooting from the heart, Cupid’s hanging off my shoulder, reloading his bow, aimed directly at you.
For this love isn’t superficial— it cuts deep, drawing your blood, preparing a stretched canvas where you’re the muse.
Let every crimson drop bleed out, brush-stroking your exact likeness, leaving all the beautiful blemishes intact.
You’re the living masterpiece, dying to exist in my world, thriving under of my chaotic impact.
—JG ©2026 |
Anchored to YouKnow that you are beautiful, still— like waters he refused to jump in while fearing their actual depths.
True love is a sacrifice, one he doesn’t deserve if he can’t fathom giving you his last breath.
For you belong to someone who isn’t afraid to drown himself, to experience the wait of your truth.
Instead, he only gets his feet wet, leaving himself weightless of being anchored to you.
—JG ©2026
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Interstellar RoseHer fading scent vanished, like an interstellar sea of dying rose where she held me in the warmth of her repose.
Remembrance condenses on my skin like stardust settling on a dark canvas— cosmic art immersing me in her absence.
Gravity pulls me deep into orbit through a vacant space, where the distant echo of her whisper creeps.
It says, “Look for me”, and before my eyes there lay a quiet petal within my reach.
—JG ©2026
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