This is what I’m talking about…
http://en.blog.wordpress.com/2025/05/07/custom-block-styles/
😭
This is what I’m talking about…
http://en.blog.wordpress.com/2025/05/07/custom-block-styles/
😭
I miss the old way of writing on WordPress. Maybe I’ve been away for too long. I don’t like the formatting requirements and the complexity of the blocking. I also don’t like the subscription option. I would much rather follow that blog and read than subscribe. I get so many notifications with subscriptions, and I just can’t keep up with all of that.
Working on polishing my novel. Maybe this year is the year. Summer maybe? Meh…
OMG… just used AI to create my very first featured image on my latest post. Not sure how I feel about it. The fingers on her hands are extremely long. I have found AI to be a little stupid about that. Very long fingers on these images.
I’ll sleep on it and see how I feel about it tomorrow.
You are my greatest weakness
A lasting fire
Fueled by desire
Sweet nervous knots
Dancing in my core
Butterfly wings sharpened to perfection
Every cut, deeper than the last
Your will
My wish
My thoughts
Your gifts
Falling deeper this
Glorious dreams of bliss
Take my soul
Never let me go
Command space
Playing strings to bind
Locks that hold us close
A powerful universe consumes us
Particles of affection whispering our breaths
We become a soliloquy of passion
Enchained
Entwined
Our lips counting seconds into kisses
Our tongues
Acquiesce
Surrendering to wild, raw
Stolen moments
Deliciously forbidden
You devour me
Make me yours forever
Now
You own me, my essence
There is no turning back
My hands are bound
As I kneel
Still
Thirsty
A slave to our love
To you
…
Time
We existed only to please it
Now
We hold its key burning in our hearts
© 2018 &2025 Mel Gutiér
Some thoughts on this:
Poetry has always been personal to me. If I read it or write something about it, it is deeply rooted in me. But it is not always about me or my experiences; it is born from deep imagination and dreams. Music also inspires me, as did Hans Zimmer’s “Time” for this piece.
I sleep in segments
Between disappointing pasts
And loathsome memories
Beneath the shadow of dreams
Lingering in corridors of regret
An empty refuge
A vacant solitude
The sludge of worry
Soldering life’s tapestry
A gnawing anxiety
Biting the neck of REM
I sleep in fragments
Broken thoughts
Puzzling butterflies
Origami visions
Conjuring up storms
Of decaying lullabies
A parade of melancholy
In a quarry of pain
I. Do. Not. Sleep.
Except to wake and…
Find
You
Gone
© Mel Gutiér 2025
There was an ache in her belly as she stood on the balcony, waiting to see her beloved cross over the castle barriers. Her breath was heavy, and tears were beginning to sprout. Her flaxen hair imprisoned by the wind. On the horizon, a sunset full of pink and orange dreams made tears flow down her face. How can something so beautiful bring with it so much despair?
“Your majesty! Shall I send in the first line?”
“No. He’s not here yet. He’s…”
“Your majesty, they’re closing in. They’ll be at the gates soon! If we don’t–“
“If we don’t wait, he’ll be killed.”
“With all due respect, your majesty, he may already be dead.”
She turned around to face him with a fearsome look. She wiped away her tears violently.
“Listen to me! I am your Queen! You are not to send in the first line until I say! And I will not say until I see him cross the cliffs! Is that clear?”
Her first officer, was reluctant and wanted to insist. But before he could do so…
“Your majesty!” he shouted, motioning her to look behind her towards the horizon.
“He made it! He did it! Send in the first line right away, I will meet the others on the bridge!”
“Yes, majesty!”
Her body collapsed into itself. A great relief warmed her as she saw her love approaching the gates on the north end of the castle. She rushed to the bridge to meet the others, but not before heading to the north end. She needed him to look into her eyes intensely, lovingly. She needed to touch him, feel him, and embrace him… perhaps for the last time.
© Mel Gutiér 2025
Man! Time is holding me prisoner. Have entered the twilight zone of my existence and I can’t hold myself back.
Man! I am struggling to come back to this place. I’m working on life right now, but I know this is part of my life and I miss it so much. As I work towards returning to more posting for fun and to improve my craft, here’s one from the vault: a poem from 2018, originally published on Fictioninmyhead.com.
Inhaling your affection
I’ve a desire for you
A craving
Lusting after your mouth
Bathing in honey
Your body against mine
You’ve created in me…
Chaos
A delicate surrender
Dancing, enticing… rejoicing
Thoughts melting into us
Becoming larger than life
Clothed in my breath
Your bite… your kiss
A caress cloaked in fire
Skin to skin
Drip… drip… drip
Golden
Sticky
Sweet
Nourishment
Your touch
My darlin… LOVE
©2018 & 2025 Mel Gutiér
I see you in my thoughts
Like a movie under moonlight
Wide-eyed joy and melancholy
Open wide my soul
In my lonely longing
I spread my lungs in breath
You’re hiding on my lips
Sweet surrender of a kiss
In the dreams I dream
Your mouth on my body
Leaving bookmarks on my skin
Picking up where we left off
The soothe of kindred words
I see you in my thoughts
I see you in my dreams
I feel you on my skin
But only in my dreams
© 2024 – Mel Gutiér
I voted today—early voting. I also tried making a handwritten entry into something called The Happiness Journal. It annoyed me, so I slammed it back on the desk. I could not and will not follow directions about my feelings and how they made me feel. Blah, blah, blah. I have a mind of my own. It will remain a void on the bookshelf as it has been since the day I bought a year ago. Did I mention that I voted? I did and it wasn’t anything special. I thought I would feel more… feel a sense of relief. I didn’t. It was an empty feeling. Perhaps it’s the same with that happiness journal. We’ll see what happens. That’s my go-to answer to myself. “We’ll see what happens.”
The truth is we need something to happen. I won’t speak for you. I, Mel Gutiér, need something to happen. Something drastic and miraculous. The Avengers. Yeah… the Avengers need to come in and rescue us from the hell we’ve created. We are stuck in a monotony of chaos, an uneasiness of being. It’s an awkward autophagy of the spirit. I wish so much the world were different right now. And what of my world? I wish that my world was different as well. I walk on a road full of thorns with scars driven in deeper as I move forward. I guess it is what it is. I move forward.
Yeah…
Oh my. Is this my first post coming back to this blog thing?
I saw so many people at the grocery store today that they became blurry while I navigated the aisles. Blobs walking about their mundane life’s traffic jam. The dull existence of routine rush. At one point I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. My mind left my reality, and I couldn’t come back. I left my world as I’ve done so many times. It took me a few minutes to reset and grab the packing tape I had come to that aisle for. I had to shake my head to wake myself up. I walked out into more chaos and to an ungodly hot autumn day. I wished so much for my mind to leave me again. To go somewhere else. But… I had to drive back home and tape up a box to drive back out to drop that box at the FedEx store because it was unwanted.
Unwanted. I voted today and it made me feel empty. I thought it would feel different. It did not. I dropped off that box. I took care of others’ needs before mine while on that adventure. I waded into the shallow end of my thoughts. I don’t know what I was hoping to gain from that. It’s always better when I’m drowning, suffocating in the made-up dreams in my head. The deep flutter of fiction and escape, a butterfly swimming in dreams.
We’ll see what happens.
Hi, lovelies!