Pure Heart

Posted: 05/02/2011 in Erotica
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Soft whispered desires
Float quietly into the ether
The looking-glass reflects the soul
My fingers linger on the smooth surface
Gently tracing the outline of your life
I hear the words, “yes please”
Whispered words of want and desire spoken in silence
Soundless motion of your soft full lips
You attach meaning and depth
To your hearts desire
Words penetrate deep into the core
I wish to ignite your very soul
Flutter butterfly wings against your skin
In reverence you kneel
waiting for my clap of command

A Brief…for the Half-Wits

Posted: 05/01/2011 in Writing

“Please, don’t torture me with cliches. If you’re going to try to intimidate me, have the courtesy to go away for a while, acquire a better education, improve your vocabulary, and come back with some fresh metaphors.” — Dean Koontz

Hopeless Freedom?

Posted: 04/30/2011 in Writing
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Frustration can rivet you into place.
I open my eyes and take a look around to find that the meaning of life is empty calories.
So dig me a grave expression.
When did you get so caught up in trying to appear strange and full of wonder
That it causes us to wonder
What’s the point anymore?
Gibberish no matter how dressed up for the occasion is simply that.
Fill the empty space between your pages with some substance.
The soul is a vehicle for creativity…
              …and yet I find us jumping through the same hoops killing invention with the name of “freedom”.

This Love

Posted: 04/28/2011 in Writing
It’s not like other times before
Under the surface lies depth, intensity, beauty and the known from long ago
Conditioned to assume all are the same
Sometimes if open the extraordinary appears
We reason that all things have meaning and old lifetimes revisit in spirit
Delight in finding the energy so long ago taken from us
Each piece, sound, feel, taste, breath and touch unique
Set apart from the rest
Like beauty there are many facets
Do not destroy what has been found
Cruelty of life overwhelms
Yet one soul can overtake the ugly and fill the void with the purest of grace
…The immensity of Love.

My Love

Posted: 04/18/2011 in Thoughts, Writing
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I’ll sail away on your last breath if you allow me to touch my lips softly against yours.
I live for the murmurs that are whispered underneath my sheets from your eyes to my frantic heart.
My pulse has a funny way of acting when you come within five feet of me.
Sometimes, I think my heart is going to leap out of my chest and embed its self into your pocket.
Maybe it already has.
I am so deep in love with you!

Worth the Risk

Posted: 04/12/2011 in Writing

Before the storm
There is calm
Satiate your longing to be enveloped in strength and virility
With old world charm I lure
My soul reacts with violent desire
Aching for the dark ways
A subtle gesture will bring you to your knees
Love wafts gently into the ether
The essence of me…

The secret of life swirls gently in the cool softly scented mountain breeze
Enveloped in timeless beauty
Surrounded by magnificent textures
Touched by the colors so vividly painted on the horizon
With my strong hands and the stroke of my brush
I risk everything
To know the origin
Of the beginning
Swirling with wonder
And become one
The cool mountain air
Brought reprieve
From the fire of the day
In my hand is a book
Kissed by the flames
Inside cover reads…

My love….your words
Are timeless…

I wonder at the origin
Passionate lovers
Escape the temptation of
Time … far out on the horizon
A strong pine
Sways in the breeze
Enveloped in sweet moist air
Sure to become
Book or home
Her roots reach into the ground
And hold fast to this mountain
As I walk away
The back page blows
Open in the afternoon wind
I read…

It was all worth the risk…

Old Reign

Posted: 04/06/2011 in Writing
In a world of chaos you reign
with your primal instincts and intense desires.
The world has layed its blessings at your feet
worshiping you with a mosaic of beauty
unique one of a kind.
An ancient vessel holds the answer
drink the wine that flows, so sweet and fragrant.
Garnet like blood, tinged with gentle essence
freely it gives you what you need
the personification of soft.

Liquid silk, lifes energy

Hearts longing
nothing is interrupted
only given more depth and thought
Princess of Darkness, Princess of Moon.


Posted: 03/16/2011 in Writing

If souls were real
Would they be spellbound by the words we speak
Or the ones we don’t
Would their obedience be true to our needs
Or our wants
Would they live the simple lives we wish for
Or the elaborate ones we choose
Would they absolve us of our real and imagined sins
Or crucify themselves silently
Could we feed their appetite to be better than we are
Or starve them with less
We seem not to notice when they undulate in pain
Watch silently as our paths begin deviating
We try to mischievously hide our true selves
And in the same breath
We plead for their survival
Stake our beliefs
In something no more tangible than smoke


Posted: 03/11/2011 in Erotica, Writing
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I inhale you, the scent of your skin.
I touch you, the spark in your eyes widen.
You open to me, as my fingers explore.
You introduce yourself to me
Again and again
I will fill your ears with the drum beat of my heart

My touch, your skin
Your breasts, my lips|
My eyes, your tears
Your neck, my mouth

My mind, your soul
My whispers, your screams
My hands, your body
My grip, your sighs
My embrace, your comfort

You inhale, my breath
Your name…I exhale


Posted: 03/09/2011 in Writing
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Seeking the horizon of my time
Guided by the strong sun,
I dig my feet into the mud
Like a tuber lotus.
I rise above the muck and
Journey toward the light
A runaway vine waiting
For the moment of bloom
I weave my way toward the
Brilliant moment of sunrise
The mystic moment of magic
I allow my hourglass of time
To emerge and flower
One petal at a time
Exposing my heart to the heat
With wild abandonment.

What Was Once, What Is Now

Posted: 03/05/2011 in Writing
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What was once…
A shadowed room, books lay open, unread
Nothing in this silence to intrigue the stagnant brain
It is held captivated by the pain of emptiness
Looking upon this day through the eye of a camera
Lost, disconnected, observing through another’s eyes
The candle that is hope, once lit, again extinguished
A mantra plays about the mind, the repeat of one word “please”
Bittersweet longing chokes the chest, wanting, yearning,
A craving to return to the days of enraptured delight
The linens on the bed remain crisply undisturbed
Sleep eludes in the exhausting abyss of despair

What is now…
A shadowed room, linens splashed with crimson
The edge of a sharpened eyes glistening
In the flickering of the candle that is to become an instrument
No camera could capture these,
Intriguing and captivating dark delicious memories
No recording could lend more cadence to this mantra
Cried out in husky enraptured tones, one word “please”
No book could be authored to describe these,
The earth-shaking emotions, the intensity that is,
An ardent desire and a zealous need.


Posted: 02/19/2011 in Thoughts
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I want a thunderstorm. I love the chaos and the destruction. The complete loss of control that is followed by a peaceful silence, interrupted only by the faint sound of sirens. The crashing, flashing, pouring rain and whirling wind.

No More Nonsense!

Posted: 02/01/2011 in Writing

I am not going to paint a pretty picture for those needing their daily dose of support club stimulation.

I can’t just pretend this is some fairy tale where the toys of a lost age become style statements for human derangement.

I can’t condone your hypnotized gaze at the laptop screen as though it is a living thing.

I won’t allow information vacuum cleaners robbing me of time, Real Time, Time which could be used for making changes and to focus To stare directly into the Supreme Eyeball of the controlling hand of big brother And eradicate its power by an act of cognitive clarity.

Sorry, but I have a new policy. It’s called ‘no more nonsense”

There is a war, a real battle of will trying to rip the fabric of reality apart, refusing to end the conflict for fear of economic collapse, denying the cures for diseases, keeping the poor in its never-ending downward spiral.

Military Might, Financial Control, Media Manipulation, Mutated Science, Trendy Language, and Stylistic Fascism.

While the domesticated monkey responds to stimulus inside the electronic incubator.

While the global controllers shift wars, corporations, and prime time stories on cable stations, like faux news.         

While ivory tower intellectuals count their dust particles accumulating inside their cubicles.

While banks steal funds to feed financial vampires drinking and draining the workers life blood.

While human vanity zombies, aimlessly explore the newest shopping mall for the next gadget religion.

While those who possess intelligence are given intelligent toys to dull their consciousness.

Real thinking, clear cognition, unbiased perception can only lead us to the conclusion. We must clean out the cobwebs growing in our collective consciousness,
Breaking the chains holding back a new reign of real imagination and a reconnection to a universal truth that the core of human will determines the future of evolving life in this universe. We cannot allow ourselves to buy into the act of being sold down the river, a polluted stream insisting we drink  the corporate waters of ignorance and manipulated gluttony. This entire system, a subsisting monstrosity out of control, a projection of power brokers raping the resources of the earth
This planetary prison run by a bloated banking puppets Must crash and burn up inside the community grave it created To bury its worn out slaves

Yes, I have seen enough backwards logic, enough fast food thought. Today’s consumerism assumes knowledge can simply be bought proving any principle will be believed of it is taught. But there is a mistake to this rippling avalanche of deceit, pretending the lies of this civilization are some kind of treat. Saying “let them eat cake” while feeding us hormone induced meat. We can shift the entire model locking us into yesterday’s thinking. We can refuse to accept meaningless time wasters clogging up the fluidity of focus. We can obliterate these institutions, these self-serving agents out to stop the expansion of life in the universe, out to convert our spirits into toxic by-products.

There is a way to alter this entire reality, to reshape and remold the parameters of sanity. It begins with a refusal to simply accept oppression and grief, insisting honest thinking must begin with self belief.  Stop wasting time. Stop worrying what others think, living inside the warped mirror of self-obsession, requiring endless fast food value meals of worthless information, forever effected by flashes of technological glitter, saluting the news and following talking head opinions. And that is the key, Understanding how time, your time, is being manipulated.

It is time to end the tyranny of linear time. It is time to stand up and take a stand.  It is time to throw away all false beliefs holding us back.

When you wake up and look at your own two eyes in the mirror, When you awaken from a waking hypnotic trance, And realize the most powerful force in existence isn’t

Money, Greed, Military Might, Media Control, Religion, Slave Labor, Corporate Ownership, or Scientific Deception

The most powerful force in existence is you!

Be with me

Posted: 01/31/2011 in Writing
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Be with me in the moonlight,
shadows dancing seductively between us.
Passion pulses through our veins,
releasing long suppressed lust.

Hold me in the moonlight,
decipher the language of my soul.
Mental foreplay the inspiration
for the pleasures the night will hold.

Take me in the moonlight,
adrenaline creates a natural high.
Nothing perplexed, it all comes easy,
contentedly lost in you and I.

Copyright © L. Tripaldi 2011 All Rights Reserved


Posted: 01/22/2011 in Thoughts, Writing
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Endarkenment is the mystery of inner reflection and renewal. This is the time we spend becoming one with our shadow. Again, we equate our shadow sides as those parts of us we keep hidden or are afraid of. Instead, I look to find those parts of my self that are essential for the development of my inner self. Learning to balance the things that have not been part of my life which could contribute to my development is part of inner reflection.

Mystery is unclear. Mystery is just that, unexplainable, obscure, ambiguous, vague, and deeply spiritual. We, as a people, are constantly trying to solve the mystery, make clear the unclear and explain every detail. Endarkenment revels in the mystery. In contemplation of the sweetness of not ever knowing, endarkenment is celebration. It is taking some things on faith. It is resting in the presence of not knowing. It is mystery. It is the time for endarkenment.


Posted: 01/10/2011 in Love, Writing
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I focus on you and us and
the only clarity I envision is
my hand
your face
a mirror
I was lost somewhere before you
now I am
somewhere near you, yet so far away because I can never feel close enough
even when you are so close to me.
I ache for more
you are crimson
deep and beautiful
I am coal
this does not make me worthless
I am beautiful in silky black and silver ash, this temporary cloak of moments in time that surround me.
you call me yours..
and it makes me feel alive
When I yearn and miss you, willing to sell my soul to the devil just to simply touch your face, to feel your breath.
slipping through daydreams and memories
fingers tracing, tips and palms against heartbeats and pulses
your hands
silky yet strong capable hands
at dust
While I am away
I feel you and can easily read
your simple sweet thoughts
and depth of being
you are glorious
I am glorious
your glory is shown through
confidence faith and love
mine~ through wind rain earth and fire
you~ through god and angels
me~ through elements and stars
you~ crimson transparent white
me~ gray in a black and white world
you fit well here 
I also..
At the same moment your smile and embrace makes me fit anywhere and everywhere.
I was born to that fate and element
it is the home of my birth
I suppose..
a place lately that travels far and often
seeking a nest to rest
fairing well just before and at sunrise~~

Copyright © L. Tripaldi 2011 All Rights Reserved

With the new year upon me, I feel the following song is so appropriate for my life. These days, I am making new changes. Changes that affect me and changes that affect how I see and treat others. I am tired of the hum-drum, dramatic, boring and ignorance that I have allowed to unravel me, but NO MORE! No more insincere! I am taking a stand to let that all go. To let the past go. There is nothing I can do about it. Those things and people will claim they do nothing or have never done anything wrong, but I challenge them to look into the mirror and just watch. You will see that you’re empty.

I did, and alas the changes. My apology goes to myself, for allowing any of that to ever come into play within my life.

I am proud of who I am and who I have becoming. Being thankful doesn’t even begin to cover it in all its glory, as I have been blessed in more ways possible. These last few weeks have been amazing. I have no other words. 

Less is More

Posted: 12/21/2010 in Love, Writing
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Thoughts too shallow, too hollow to be warm and genuine. cruel inspiration, mocking my lack of time and will and motivation. Aviation. desperation. Clean my soul and give me a pad of paper on which to pour my heart. Bitter chimes, understating every feeling, fickle imagination. underscoring my lack of creativity. Stop.
I’m drifting on the waves of the kindness of a stranger. Suddenly the play list seems to have filled with something other than this growing feeling of frustrated numbness. Fragile in its simple design, my faith finds the breath to match the rhythm of my heart until I’m swept into a sweet dance of reanimated dreams. I allow my heart to open to the wonder of all creation.
Frustration can rivet you into place. I open my eyes and take a look around to find that the meaning of life is empty calories. So dig me a grave expression. When did you get so caught up in trying to appear strange and full of wonder, that it causes us to wonder, what’s the point anymore? Gibberish no matter how dressed up for the occasion is simply that. Fill the empty space between your pages with some substance. The soul is a vehicle for creativity, and yet I find us jumping through the same hoops killing invention with the name of “freedom”. Hopeless.
I’ll sail away on your last breath if you allow me to touch my lips softly against yours. I live for the murmurs that are whispered underneath my sheets from your eyes to my frantic heart. My pulse has a funny way of acting when you come within five feet of me. Sometimes I think my heart is going to leap out of my chest and embed its self into your pocket. Maybe it already has.

Can You Feel It?

Posted: 12/16/2010 in Thoughts
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Things are not what they appear.  Can you feel the turbulence, the spiraling energy of this universe going completely out of control?  Are we the same people that we thought we were, or is there a new pulse, a new electricity igniting a growing insanity across the spectrum of the panoramic social landscape? 

There is only so much tension the political, the interpersonal, the dramatic pressure cooker can take before a final explosion ignites an Inferno of Madness.  We are at the very end, the end of the end of a race track of sameness keeping society in check.  Almost everyone I know, personally know, seems slightly changed, slightly altered, slightly radioactive.  If we have all been mutated by some strange energy infecting the game of life, if we actually are no longer exactly the same, a little more awake, a little more conscious than the last few years, does this mean there will be a moment, an instant when all this strangeness announces a new chapter for the human race? 

For the past several months people who for years seemed stable have gone off the deep end.  I commented on this before, but it seems like the clock is ticking louder than ever and the alarm is about to sound, signaling a wake up call for all those sleep walkers out there.  Calamities abound like mushrooms on a rainy day.  The degree of unfairness and social tension is exponentially growing.  Entropy and chaos are interlocked in an erotic embrace as this false, puritanical world starts to turn in on itself. 

The question is: Are we witnessing something that will culminate in one global moment, or will insanity and interpersonal breakdown merely become the norm of the day?  Can you feel it grow all around you?  If you can’t, you must be either in a deep sleep or dead to the world.

Peeling The Layer

Posted: 12/14/2010 in Life
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Regardless of the facts, thoughts make the world go around. Spin, turn; whatever your reasoning for night and day. You can’t see it, all you know is freeze and unfreeze. Your mind is shadow, brightness makes a complete circle but can’t penetrate. When you are enlightened truth becomes reality. Escape isn’t the only choice, but it’s all you think at that moment. Time stops when you sleep, it’s a giant charade. A game designed to see how long you can remember how you got to where you are. A motion in a clock doesn’t measure time, time doesn’t exist.

Consciousness is a dream. Beautiful washes of pulsating colors, a thousand frequencies interpreted as life to your mind. Controlling any aspect is a crime. Falling asleep is one way out. A flame comes unlit, the radio plays in the background and you feel a little chill. Everyone acts like children when they sleep alone.

You say the facts are all you need to live by. It would make sense if you’d believe it. The facts don’t exist. Everyone plays the game on you. Amazingly fine, an infinite jigsaw puzzle throughout your head. Light as you can get, before you die, you see it all. And then you don’t want it back, ever again. All you do is give up. And that’s the end.

But it’s not. You’re still here. Life, the illusion you thought that would fade away with time, still needs you around. A receiver for every broadcast, message sender. We all are, trying to get the highest thrill. Themes we think we are, some divine paper boy sent from a high deity to speak the truth. We don’t let on, we don’t pretend. We only do the shuffle and pretend to pretend. Your thoughts are nothing but electrical impulses, turned on by an opportunity to mate or kill, your sadistic side tells you.

Just because you feel something doesn’t make it real. The best ideas come by mistake. Someone misinterprets an expression by you and calls it brilliance. Or you yourself fail in trying to express the original vision but you create something greater as a result.

Mistakes are the only unique ideas.