Our Violent Kiss



Punch me in the face.

Such a powerful kiss you possess.

Left me bruising, screaming on the wise mountain top

Let’s go deeper than that…

Transforming, becoming one

Words that connect our souls, minds who speak of it all,

Our bodies, only skin and bones. Two snakes healing the wounded universal self.


Breathe in… your touch penetrates my experiences… you feed me with new words: knowledge and awareness.

Breathe out… and I am lost. I forget everything, I thought I knew.

I am willing to give up all, to confront what is not there.  Impossible to miss what was never there.

Give me back the words you owe me. With interest.

Return all the stars you stole from my mind’s universe.  My moon feels lonely.

Oh, I no longer feel a liar. My truth lies behind your lips.

Punch me in the face, with your kiss

Again and again.


I am becoming. You are becoming. We are becoming. They are becoming

Oh I no longer feel a victim. I became the hyena, devouring the baby gazelle

Breathe in…I feel gratitude.

Breathe out… and pain becomes the necessary phantom.

Pain, my inevitable passion. Your inevitable passion. Our inevitable passion. Their inevitable passion.

For we are so madly in love with the masochists that we have all became.


Indeed, punch me in the face

Stronger, this time.

Leave me dead,  next to the ancient tree.

Bleeding, feeling alive for the first time.

You and me.  Not us, Not  them.

How obliged am I for this!

Breathe in…  my friends define my existence.

Breathe out… I leave everything as I have found,



17 thoughts on “Our Violent Kiss

    1. i was never into blogging or exposing my thoughts/drawings/feelings on the interweb. Don’t ask me why i thought this was stupid..ask me why was i so stupid not doing it, in the first place..i wouldn’t have found like minded souls across this world, feel connected with their words and colors. i consider them now friends(how crazy is that, when you haven’t met them in real person) But i believe that here, we are all exposing a bit of ourselves, that many of our friends in real life don’t know shit about. it is a secret that went published. and its up to a few to find it out. I thank you for this comment, I thank you for creating a wordpress account , writing your poems and short stories. i thank you for giving me the chance to read them. I thank you, that i get to ‘know you’ in that way. The real way.
      inhale, exhale and i send you a hug, dear brother!

      Liked by 4 people

      1. I’m feeling you, Brother. I have repeated and bloody mental civil wars about whether to share thoughts here or anywhere else online. Sometimes there is pride and satisfaction. Other times there is a ghastly self-loathing for such wanton and desperate vanity. I deleted my first blog in a fit of frustration. Clearly my writing was coming from the wrong place. The current blog is different. Most of it – MOST of it – comes from the right place, but no matter how much I wait, or how much I try, I am nearly always left with sinking, pitiful feelings, and I honestly don’t know why I bother. I think of all the time I have spent making things with words. I see how the time and energy given to verbal and conceptual expression impacts negatively on those close to me. I wonder how much more helpful I could have been to them in that time, with that energy. I wonder how much of my favourite thing – nothing – I could have done it that time. Life, and what we “do” in it, is more of the rough and less of the smooth. While the troughs are wide and treacly, the peaks are thin and . . . er . . . not treacly. It takes ages to reach the top of the mountain but nearly no time to ski down it. You reach the top of the greasy pole (pun . . . punani) only to slide immediately back down again. That said, kindred souls appear now and again to remind you that your efforts, your oneness with Source, and its expression, was (and is) – sorry, might have been (and might be) – not in vain. That your movement in consciousness – up or down – HAS to move others’. I spend far too much time with people who make me feel bad. How sad that we should “meet” people and make best friends online! There has to be something wrong with this! Or does there? So what if most of my best friends are my favourite books or my favourite albums. So what! Why shouldn’t they also be living people writing books or music, even if I never get to meet them? These . . . things (books, music, computers: no different from people (all form; all expressions of form)) make me feel good. Why shouldn’t I love them? I shouldn’t not love them. I do love them. And I love you for your authentic, non-grasping inspiration. Let us start this week as we mean to go on: without fear of the past, without desire for the future – only with love for the present. No Fear. Only Love.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. My day began so listlessly, but your feral poetry is always like a shot of pure life. Also, for the past day or so I’ve been working on a section of my novel where I need to very intensely empathize with the lovers that are central to it (star-crossed, of course) — feeling the death-defiant violence of that love. Today, for several hours, I’ll have to perform the meaningless theater of my day job — but if at the end of the day I have trouble getting back to myself and the world I’m trying to paint, I’ll just come back to this poem. Ευχαριστώ! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dearest Sunshine Jansen, if only you knew the sunshine you brought, along with your comment, into this cold and rainy day of mine.. i sincerely hope that you will not have to come back to this poem EVER, as it is more important to keep painting your world and ‘finding’ the little self you re hiding during the ‘ meaningless theater of my day job”, as you nicely put it..haha! i can easily empathize with that, though it is harder to do so, when you come across a love like the one you mention in your novel..good luck! My pleasure!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. i cannot draw on computer.it is impossible for me. I have a block and mainly i start with a black marker or a black pen. Then , depending if i have money to spend for good markers i add colors(i don’t draw as often as i want to). .my favorite tools are markers, oil pastel, crayons and charcoal , depending my mood and finances. what i do, afterwards, is that i take a picture of the drawing and then upload it to my laptop so i can change the font and because the resolution is not presentable for the blog i sort of improve it. All the drawing you see are on my blocks or notebooks. my drawings cannot stand without the words and my words cannot stand without colors. sorry for the long response

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Noted and understood.

        It is important for people to know your modus operandi. It was a mystery before. Now it’s not.

        Thank you for the enlightenment.

        I’m only sorry you didn’t write more.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I never thought I would be able to expose my inter most thoughts but there was this key one day that they all became unlocked,I didn’t plan for it to happen but I am grateful that they did
    As always Sheldon

    Liked by 1 person

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