Sonnet - Epiphany 3; Quill

Often from the night I'm suddenly

Wide awake, eyes squinting in the dark,

Words dancing together beautifully, 

Thrumming, throbbing round a central spark. 

Leaping from the bed, I must transcribe

The magic of the moment, lest it fade

And blend into a lost, subconscious vibe, 

Deep within the black from where t'was bade.

And so, with vision gained and sharpened skill,

Ambition's wish endeavored to achieve, 

I wield my talisman -- the sacred quill, 

And aim to capture that which I conceive.

And then, once Poet's burden has been shed, 

A quick review (or two), then back to bed. 

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Epiphany 2; Throb

Often, from the night I'm suddenly

Yanked awake by things that hiss and writhe,

Urges slither up ravenously, 

Demanding fealty; I must pay the tithe.

Within me dwells a savage, monstrous brute;

Embodiment of hungry, furious lust;

Had I not my quill to pay tribute,

Within its inferno I'd combust.

I am a slave to it, this endless Throb, 

Don't you see? The words give lust a voice. 

Bound to write its urges, that's my job,

And ceasing to obey is ne'er a choice.

So when it calls, I must heed its growl,

Lest I be haunted by its bestial howl.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Epiphany 1; Thrum

Often, from the night I'm suddenly

Clutched by something beautifully profound;

Roused from sleep, though exquisitely,

By the most intoxicating sound.

A flood of imagery slams through my brain,

O, my loves! The most delicious things,

Compelling me to wield the quill again,

And to my soul, the lovely choir sings.

As if possessed, my blessed quill vibrates,

While to the lovely song within I hum,

So wonderful, the things my quill creates!

This elegant process I call the Thrum:

A state of pure creative harmony,

Wherein I bask in literal ecstasy.

---- 

- Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Captive

Roused from sleep, I find I cannot see.

My eyes are covered with a scarf tied 'round my head.

Attempting to remove it, to be free, 

I find my wrists bound tightly to the bed.

"Don't move," comes a familiar silky voice,

"It's pointless, love, to try making escape.

You'll find that you've been given little choice

But to let the evening take its shape."

I begged her, not to loosen the restraints, 

But to free my eyes, so I could watch,

But rather than acknowledge my complaints,

She kicked her savage claiming up a notch.

Hours of lust did she (from me) imbibe;

Pleasing me in ways I can't describe.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Heaven

Lying here, watching her descend,

Kissing down my chest and farther still,

Busy hands stroking without end, 

Her lips to come, unparalleled in skill.

The moment when I'm in her mouth's embrace, 

The pleasure of it takes me far away,

To a blissful world of curves and lace,

My heaven, this seductress where I lay.

I can feel the coming of my bliss,

Her hands and mouth increasing speed and grip,

Release impending, throbbing at her kiss, 

I want to stave it off, not let it slip--

Yet futile my restraint as, moaning, she 

Savours thoroughly, my ecstasy.

---- 

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Hummingbird

Overwhelmed, my love, by sensory bliss,
A divine masterpiece, of sight and scent,  So much to see, and thus so much to miss -- My senses are too slow, I must lament.


For how on earth am I to memorizeEvery tiny freckle on your skin;A billion shades of colour in your eyes;Far too great a task, to my chagrin. 


Would that I were able to ingestAlacritous, like tiny hummingbird,The fullest of your nectar, unrepressed
By limitation, senses undeterred.

Alas, I must observe thy pleasures rifeConfined to human faculty and strife.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Euphoric

What beauty now doth pervade my senses,

Of perfect shape and soothing, gentle touch,

Who maketh me abandon all pretenses, 

And kiss the lips that tempteth me so much?

To her I surrender, full and whole, 

And follow her in mutual ecstasy

Which joineth us in body, heart and soul,

Timeless, endless bliss, our revelry.

Yet knowing, still, that all things have an end, 

Amidst the joy, there lingers a despair:

For soon, where lustful pleasures we inscend,

Time will come when she'll be gone from there.

For now, I bask in lover's warm embrace, 

A curl of angel's hair strewn 'cross my face.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Fireworks

Words are perfect, truly grand,

But more is said with probing hand;

Luscious kiss, and hungry teeth

Grinning as you writhe beneath.

Every time I close my eyes, 

I am doomed to fantasize

Of placing hand upon your hip,

As you bite your lower lip.

Passionate, we shake the earth,

Ushering the new year's birth --

Moaning as the fireworks blow, 

Building t'ward our afterglow...

My fingers trace a winding line

Curving down your perfect spine,

Your head laid upon my chest,

Limbs entwined in blessed rest.

There is nothing I can do

To escape these dreams of you;

Lady mine, whom I hold dear,

My only wish: to have you here.

----

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015.