How old Were They?

'Regardless of how old a person is when they die,
if they’re not ready to go, then it's always too young and too soon.'

Death Has a Sound

Death is the deepest of silence.
It is a quiet unlike any other.
Do you hear that?
Be still and listen.
There it is.
A quiet unlike any other.

I Wish

I wish that when I touch myself, it would feel as good as when you touch me...
but it doesn't.

November 21st, 2009
M. Lukofsky

The Cloud

When I touch your ever so soft areola, it's like my fingers are moving through a cloud.

marla lukofsky November, 2009

Surrendering

You grab me in your arms,

Taking the breath out of me.

Clutching my hair and

Tossing me to and fro.

I follow your lead,

As I am too weak with passion

To resist any attempt to guide me

Wherever you want.

My fluids arise to the surface,

Making everything easy and smooth.

Your lips make everything change.

So full, all knowing of what my mouth wants.

I’m swollen, I’m open.

You are too.

You let your needs be known.

I gladly give at will.

With my mouth, my tongue, my fingers.

Your sounds let me know it's

Pleasure you feel.

I too allow the same in return.

The walls come down.

You fill up my cavern.

I thrust my desires into you.

An even temper, ever so deep.

We are one at times.

I breathe, I can’t breathe.

My heart stops for a moment.

I’m Yours.

Marla Lukofsky July 28/09

Your Landscape

Your neck, the skin that lies upon your bone structure

is like a beautiful landscape.

It curves, it swerves, it glides, it dips.

It’s soft, it smoothes into the crevices of your

warm body.

I love to gently ride my fingertips

along it all.

Oh... your landscape.

I love it so.

M. Lukofsky

May 26^th, 2009

A Piece Of You

I met you, shared moments, some laughter, some thoughts.

We broke bread together, broke the ice together.

I felt,

I had a piece of you.

We got familiar, found similarities, found differences, formed a bond.

We learned to listen, to understand one another.

I felt,

I had a piece of you.

We got closer, more vulnerable, more open, and free.

Some walls came down. We touched, we kissed. We loved.

I felt,

I had a piece of you.

We became a part of each others lives, intertwined,

With food, friends, family, music, and life.

I felt,

I had a piece of you.

Yet your heart and mind were not solely for me.

Someone else lurked nearby, seemed just around the corner.

Its young, its pretty, it flits and it flirts. It does make sense that

I felt,

I had a piece of you.

At times, we continue to share our moments,

Much laughter, and thoughts, tears, touches and hugs.

We find ourselves amidst cool sheets, briefly connected beneath the covers,

And still I know that,

I only have a piece of you.

April 26, 2009

By: Marla Lukofsky

Moved

M, A moment in time, marvelous,

O, Out on a limb

V, Vulnerable, vivid,

E, Emotional, exceptional,

D, Daring, dark and soothing in hue, dynamic in feeling.

How does one explain the sensation of being moved.

It brought tears to my eyes that morning. Wednesday.

Dared to share them. Just came out. Ever so slightly.

Salty you said.

You were so gentle, tender, caring.

Your touch at times conveys more than you say.

M Lukofsky Sept 18, 2008

The Kiss, Your Kiss

Your lips, so full, bodacious bodies,
Fall on mine, though smaller.
Engulfing mine with gentle firmness if that's possible.
A silver lining of moisture coating our mouths
So that they slide ever so softly and easily,
Fluid in motion, lyrical like music, without missing a beat.
I lose myself in your lips, your mouth, and the power of it.
So gentle yet firm.
So impulsive, yet all knowing in what they want to do next as if rehearsed.
Warm like the perfect heat that radiates from a beautiful
fire that's slowly dying down but still has an ongoing flame.
Not too hot, nor harsh, but simply just right.
Sliding, moving, and always connected with feeling,
Like dancers who have been together a long time
and can read each others steps before they take them.
Your lips, your kiss.
When your passion comes thru by way of your lips,
So Warm, So Full, So luscious,
So purposefully knowing of what they want from me,
I lose myself once again.
The sensation is like no other.


Feb. 2, 2009 11:11pm
By: marla lukofsky

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You can't always choose whom you love, but you can choose how to find them. Start with AOL Personals.

A Patient's Prayer

Oh God, let me live to fight the fight.

That's all that I ask for, a chance to fight.

I don't have to win but I sure want to try.

That's all that I ask for, before I might die.

July 1998

A Converted Song

The J you see inside me shows
The jewels in my eyes.
The E that glows upon me shows
Eternity of ties.
The W has now come through
To keep them all in place,
And yet I do not pray to G-d
Unless it’s ills I face.

I see the morning sunlight shine
Between my window blind.
There’s something in my eyes I feel,
The tears are hard to find.

I feel the urge to brace myself
And find a room to cry.
The problem’s there, it’s in my soul
Don’t know the reason why.

My heart is in an painful state.
My troubles so confined.
I cannot sort them out myself,
Can’t see the silver line.

I need someone to take apart
My life with loving care.
They must point out the errors
Of a life that isn’t there.

So many times I ask myself
Why should it be this way,
To live a life that isn’t there,
The act is all in vain.

And yet there is a Jew in me
Who keeps the pressure strong.
The pressure is to strive for life
And sing a soulful song.

Marla Lukofsky 1975.

The Nights Are Mine Alone

When I wake up to take my part
Of pressure, misery and sacrifice,
I soon realize that I cannot distinguish between
What is mine and what is not?

Is nature mine or just a vise
Used for squeezing out works
To fill the poet's infinite appetite?

Is happiness mine or is it just
Here to show the difference from discontent?

Is nothing mine?

Is my life my own or is it just
Another living example to display
Nature in all its glory

For even if I were to take my own life,
It would not be mine but rather a piece of the media
And an excuse for family and friends
To receive sympathy from strangers.

As my body lies down to rest
And my face moulds itself into the pillow,
I see in the quiet darkness that
The nights are mine alone.
For whatever else I have not,
The nights are mine alone.

Marla Lukofsky
Dec.17, 1974

Memoir of a Chemo Patient (published in Cell2Soul Medical Magazine)

One night, while I lay in bed, feeling sickly after hours of receiving chemotherapy, a mosquito flew into my bedroom, landed on my arm and bit me. I then wrote this poem.

MEMOIR OF A CHEMO PATIENT

Last Night A Mosquito Bit Me.
It Sucked Up My Poisonous Blood.
I Watched It Fall Fast To The Ground.
And All Of Its Little Black Hairs,
Fell Out Of Its Little Black Legs.
It Was Stilled Forever.
Good.
That’s What You Call Sweet Revenge.


1998 Marla Lukofsky