#3454 Oct 8, 2012
To my second favorite memory,
Oh, she laid me long and cool,
led me to betray myself
and call myself a fool.
The rhetoric of gesture
that she used to raise my soul...
but the unclear meanings seized me
in some void, embodied whole.
Her movements were a monologue
defying all the world
to cipher any meanings
in her bodies sweeping, skirled.
With her on the plataeus high,
to fill the void with words
I destroted her self-born speaking
with precise, pedantic verbs.
That strangled our fine dialogue,
and finally laid it down,
grammatically correct and all
dressed in syntax's flaxen gown.
But now? She speaks no words
at all to me. Can I translate?
The silence is all hectic
Love became debate.
#3455 Oct 8, 2012
Your pulse is my passion,
Your passion, my pleasure.
My tongue will engorge your
Sweet clitoral treasure.
I'll bathe you in waters,
Of warm oral lusting.
In every recess of,
Your body so trusting.
Spread open your pathway,
To my fleshy feast.
Prepare to surrender,
Your wet, untamed beast.
Thrust-up and inspire me,
With soft, breathless moaning.
I'll press even deeper,
Devouring and groaning.
Clench on to my neck as,
I taste number eight.
Keep going and flowing,
As I lick you to heaven....
And wont make you wait.
#3456 Oct 8, 2012
Bound in the
You visited often
while I conspired
Ice walls grew skin
to fill spaces
Where you touched me
I shiver, still.
from a finger
from its tip.
So good it
Now I dream in
its red darkness
Vesuvius left ashes
and I become
#3457 Oct 8, 2012
It dangles about...and sometimes sticks out
but most of the time I don't need it
but when my passions arise..it doubles its size
and you have an irresistable urge just to seize it.
So you and I sat down one day..and thought of a way
and now nobody sees it
as we all dress in clothes..as it's rude to expose
but sometimes you just want to squeeze it.
So pockets were added...and now you can grab it
but you still can only tease it
but cut the sides away..and now you can play
but you can't put your goddam keys in it.
“ Woodstock Anyone?”
Since: Oct 12
#3458 Oct 8, 2012
I appreciate your acknowledgement. I hope I'm not misinterpreting
some of the meaning in these moving words. Correct me if I am on the wrong track. Do you think that I've more to say? That the water runs deeper? You are correct if so.
I can try, but my poems are a long time gone. I am rusty and my vocabulary is a fragment of yours.
“ Woodstock Anyone?”
Since: Oct 12
#3459 Oct 8, 2012
CALLING OR BANE
It cannot be
How can it be?
This iced, cruel sick
Take it out of my sight
Face in hands, on my knees
please, please, please....
Why don't they see it?
Why do I?
Why can't they see it?
Why must I?
I've chased blissful ignorance
There is none for me
My awareness takes my right to peace
Yes, I know and feel what is insane
But one question leaves me in the dark
'Is this my calling or my bane?'
#3460 Oct 9, 2012
I'm not sure what you are refering to when you say that you hope that you're not misinterpreting some of the "meaning" in "whose" moving words ?
I am also unsure about you wanting me to comment on your decision to say more....that remark is very confusing, and because I hardly know you or your work, please understand that it would be considered most unethical and inappropriate for me to make a reserved and/or uninformed comment at this early stage.
However please be reassured that so far, and at this time, the work that you have posted, and the poetry I've read, I am encouraged that have taken the time to consider this a suitable site for your excelent work.
As far as I can fathom your words about "water that runs deep'...I can only wonder if you might be making some veiled reference or citation to "Still waters run deep"... the proverb of Latin origin now commonly taken to mean that "a placid exterior hides a passionate or subtle nature."
Formerly it also carried the warning that silent people are dangerous, as in Caesar's summing up of Cassius in William Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar I.2.195-6:
The perfect poem is not about standard lines,
rhymes or figures of speach such as a hyprrbole or a smile.
The perfect poem is a stimulus forcing senses to comprehend the profoundest of meaning.
Like a Calypso sprawled on a bed with the smell of sex heavy in the air, the perfect poem beckons men into her abyss of bliss.
The perfect poem blessed with the soul of the great Aboriginal Warriors, with each angle, turn and throw conquers the minds of all tribes.
The perfect poem is rebellious by nature, a non-conformist, freeing itself of all prisons of structure and adverse control mechanisms.
The perfect poem is disrespectful of authority and chains of command and the divide of humans... no more patricians and plebeians.
The perfect poem is volatile, a weapon of mass destruction against corruption, disparity, alienation and racial acrimony.
Serving as a discriminatory agent the perfect poem acts against all oppressors, including the great one-eyed leaders of this world.
Yes, the perfect poem is reborn...it is the audacity of hope, the once alien dream of Martin Luther King Jr. realized in all free men, everywhere
The perfect dream is the voice of the deranged, the homeless, the helpless, and the "Others" of this stygian world.
The perfect poem is now a journey to reality, a subway connection to truth, justice, and the unrealized dreams of democracy.
#3461 Oct 9, 2012
Policy, the bane of artists demanded it, and so, for the sake of a thousand issues and a common front to the common foe, he placed the love of his life upon the altar of his patriotism, and went, a broken-hearted man, into the long exile.
From that moment the Emperor died.
History ceases to take interest in the crownless wanderer.
His return to the place of tragedy, and on to the capital where the deserted palace awaits him with its memories, his endless seeking for the soul of his beloved, his discovery by the High Priestess Aphrodite that island of the sweet Frangipani where --
gaily coloured towers Rise up like rainbow clouds, and many gentle And beautiful Immortals pass their days in peace,
#3462 Oct 9, 2012
If I drink you...will I float in blissful intoxication?
If I want you....will you satisfy my craving for you?
If I dream of you..will our silhouettes dance majestic shadows?
If I say your name..will you come to me willingly?
If I dine on you...will you taste of honey and myrrh?
If I look for you...will you leave tracks in the sand?
If I think of you...will you imagine feeling my lips to yours?
If I touch you....will you let go of what was, and let me make love to you now?
If I love you....will you accept my invitation for better or for worse?
If.....only I knew....who YOU were?.......
#3463 Oct 9, 2012
You got me drowning in your ink, aeting your screen dust.
Your images curl around the nuances of my nerves like the S around UCK of my efforts Haldol.
Your style slams my confidence like a door in the face.
Every beat on the blue pond of the mind animates a verb or a noun of the wow kind till you're at the end of any thought of excellence.
Your words are hot like the sun in rare form burning little suns in the screen.
With smoking pen you burn the pages blowing rhythm from the white hot tip of rhyme.
Your ink's as smooth as ocean on the surface of calm yet waves of cool emotion.. rage a storm of provoked envy.
Your syllables could silence a storm, sight the blind till they saw a shape of original in your beautiful mind.
#3464 Oct 9, 2012
The heat sets like coagulating blood, a smoldering heart inside the stone sun of the city.
The torrid clarity of sky bears down on the mind,
claustrophobic and stifling as a locked door in an unlit and windowless stairwell.
Without warning the sky explodes with sand, a marauder of hope plundering the streets.
Beyond the boundary, goatskin tents flap wildly like captured crows in an entropic land of dredged-up bones.
Sand settles into place layering rooftops, streets, sneaking through cracks until you wish a vengeful god would rip loose the clouds, unleash the rain and wash it away.
Shimmering jinn, and whirling dust devils of fleeting lovers vanish from the horizon, as cool air unravels like ectoplasmic filaments from fingertips.
A glittering confetti of srars is tossed into the night sky, rocks resonating with every sound, and at the abandoned hour ever murmured thought lost in the desert consciousness.
#3465 Oct 9, 2012
You tickle my dangeling candy-cane forcing it to attention!
Your poetry is misbehaving - randy here comes the salutation.
The idea of me penetrating your soul from gazing through the window of your eyes - is a compliment untold...please lead and I will follow.
I will munch on the glaze-strawberry licking the accompanying nectar...
Plucking the full ripe cherries...can I adjust the roaming pillow ?
Sorry if I made you scream, as you stoop while working and blowing my licorice stick.
What for some is a distant dream don't you dare stop procrastinating...
Do you think you're swooning - now?
Honey it's early days, you must find a way somehow to calm those sensitive fears.
Our appointment is around the corner with many unexpected surprises.
We will surely be cuming together, hold everthing, but the juicy peachy kisses.
#3466 Oct 9, 2012
With my tongue I explored
while attempting to memorize her reactions
My fingers followed the avid contour
exploiting her body's gentle persuasions.
My naughty words pleased her senses
extending the five to six
Boldness dismounted the neutral fence
Creative imagination became a randy mix.
Five minutes slowly marched to forty-five
Each second seemed a life time
The sex was morally alive
Sensations just about blew my mind.
We're into the late morning
after a limping pause
The benefits were truly rewarding
We will revisit the act because....
The very short night quickly slipped
into eternities book of history
The lessons left me fully equipped
to find the elusive G-Spot instinctively.
#3467 Oct 9, 2012
Ocean impressions bind the swans into our ocean cove, on a soundless morning when the sun stingily grabs your lovely silken locks, and our fingers find lips in clitoral counsels.
In an unroofed sage cotton room listening to the wind twist tales on a passage less morning when the erotis sun interrupts our silent loving and our fingers find nipples in twisted arousal.
Reminders bind my refuges and I feel my tears for this poet, DeVine, loosing his sonnets, on an entrance less morning when the sleepy sun tugs with tugboats in miasma and our lips find hips in sonnet submission.
Watching spirits spin on spectacular bare heels on an Orinoco flow on a boundless morning when the swans' sun moves away from love and happiness and our thighs find thighs in artistic artillery.
Without Ever Really Knowing.
#3468 Oct 9, 2012
Bury me with
#3469 Oct 9, 2012
The algae surrounding the whirlpool inside her mind, stirs up the confusion within...
While the toxins permeate, her eyes begin to turn blind, fueling her helpless ego...
And breaking apart the tireless, uprooted signs, she has planted yet another...
A seed, becoming more and more alike to her own kind.
Fear is all it takes to bring the proud to their knees, for the blossom that awaits...
Never give in to the warning of those who seek to see, so she evolves into a black veil.....
Covering her tears, she must fake it to believe, yet another drop of poison...
Tasting it and allowing herself to be of the deceived.
This woman of the existence, of rot and decay, lies within her passion of misery...
Grasping at memories of her forgotten past, day by day, for they lie deeply sunken within her...
Forsaking all upon the edge of this mystical mythical abyss, fantasy's insane asylum, and the salts of sweet freedom ....
A prison of weathered emotion, forever she will pay.
.....untill next time!
#3470 Oct 9, 2012
Lips to suck
Lips to nibble
Lips to part
Lips to tickle
Lips to fondle
Lips to lick
Lips to taste
Lips to nip
Lips to kiss
Lips to tease
Lips to whisper
Lips to please
Lips to water
Lips to bite
Lips to hush
Lips to sigh
Lips to crave
Lips to bruise
Lips to win
Lips to loose....Oh, yeah!
(and then I succumb to your succulent mouth..Mmmmmm)
#3471 Oct 9, 2012
naked and wet
with a thought
were close enough
to satisfy a need
placing one finger
in your mouth
rubbing one nipple
and then the
closing your eyes
was your reaction
picturing me watching
the right hand
past the navel
fingers aware of
your eyes tighten
running my finger
up and down
until you arch
inserting just one
crying out for
that I would not
harder, and faster
until you cum
last night your
#3472 Oct 9, 2012
As true as it is
graphic is the fact;
My powerful longing
for you starts deep
Within your uterus
and the sweet ast
Of love -
Oh, the mere thought
wil make me weep _
The hard intrusive
veiny act of love;
The creamy salty
white hot explosive
Act of love -
What was I saying,
Oh, yes shove!
Shove in, thrust,
You know by now
how passionate I am,
Don't you ever wonder
how it might be
To let me get buck naked
and wham bam slam ram
And impale you with
my pumping masculinity ?
Let us get naked like
when we were born -
Then we'll get crazier
than Kung-fu Porn.
#3473 Oct 9, 2012
as you lie naked
on my bed
with the faintest
I move myself
With my fingers
I gently glide
across your body
As I outline
part of you
My lips meet
I plant tender
all over you
All the way
you into me
and kiss you
that fills in me
for you is
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