posted November 19, 2007 07:32 AM              

Just go over there and stand quietly
let her perceive an aura of mystery
she’ll pick up your scent
and come slowly around.
Like I said, don’t front and don’t clown;
relaxed, romantic, and enigmatic you, &
and she might even take you home for the do.”

Source: http://lovestarz.com/taurusscorpio.html

(Check the page for other Scorp/Taurus poetry )

This is something that has fascinated me like nothing else. Especially the lines above in bold.
It is beautiful, romantic, alluring, magical so much so it begs to be believed. Like a thing of pristine beauty whose simple mystery you had known in that first instant when the stars were scattered into space and time began. But it was lost in the long celestial journey that followed.

Please talk more about it. Share your experiences, share your views, poetry, prose and anything else you would want to share.

posted November 19, 2007 07:45 AM              

Drag that bull, stubborn lump of flesh
Sting his heel in an attempt to make it move.
He snorts, angry, but it's difficult to soothe with pincers,
so he stomps all around,
almost crushing the teensy anthropod,
trying to move a two-ton bovine with a two inch pincer - it's ridiculous.
The bystander looking on, laughing, wonders, "why?"
And the little scorpion wonders how the hell it ended up corralled with a bull...

posted November 19, 2007 07:54 AM              

Is this OUR Pixelpie at Lindaland? I know she's a scorp. Wow! Hats off to her!

Source: http://lovestarz.com/taurusscorpio.html

Something so sexy...
earthy?
slow and
I don't know...
something else.

Is it my pulse
or electricity
magnetic attraction,
or polarity?

I had to ask him the last time we spoke
(he looked at me like I was playing a joke)
"What's your sign?"... my eyes alight...
a slow burn underneath his skin...
I wondered if he'd let me in...
if only he knew, but I think he did...
the heights I've known within delight.
If he kept playing his cards all right,
maybe he'd be the next surrender.

"I'm a Taurus" were the words he'd tendered.

Well...
I'd never known my opposite
but the sudden rush just made me fall.
Could you handle the waters depths,
the silky weeds, the jagged crawl,
the murky darkness,
the inner call,
the dappled dancing lights upon
the full-blown waves before lights dawn
when the stars shine their brightest
and the hidden caves the tightest,
the crest the movement the tides and ebbs
the seaweed's gasp of drying webs?

Well...
He's hot sand and salty rocks
and a sweet mirage gone with a shock
smooth hard pebbles where scorpion's bask
earth wet with water, a perfect mask.
He's concrete, hard
and stuttered walks,
a bare backed bather against the docks.
He is a gathered grace to shelter
water from a dissolving heat,
knowing power is increased
when touched so indiscreetly
offer water to the baking rocks,
they hiss and burn, slowly merging...
a sauna's steam grows full when coupled
with a gentle urging.
He is a crevice to collect the rains offering of sweet water
lapping at her shores...
they explore
where the surf starts and the sand ends...
only to discover they are one and yet apart
but together
leaves a better foothold
and together
a better buoyancy.

Together,
a kind of prophesy of me and you and
you and me.