Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5384 Jan 3, 2013
it started out so innocent
just a little bit of fun
bedroom Olympics for
just me and my hon

she was dressed so sexy
in a see-through silken teddy
with her whip in hand
she asked me "are you ready"

she motioned with her finger
and she pointed at the bed
I propped up some pillows
to go beneath my head

she asked "are you comfy" and
"do you want to play"
she gently bound my wrists
to make sure I would stay

she took out a bandanna
and covered up my eyes
with a cat o' nine
she ran it down my thighs

then, binding up my ankles
there was no way I could move
then she started laughing
she was getting in the groove

tickling and licking
a playful little bite
knowing right away that
we would "go all night"

her fingers were enticing
everywhere they'd roam
she said "get ready baby,
I'm fixing to drive you home"

I heard a little "click"
with such familiar "hum"
with an evil chuckle, whispering
"look out, here I come"

not knowing what was happening
I didn't have a clue
but from past experiences
she knew just what to do

I'm not saying any more
"Its debauchery at its best"
you can use your imagination
to figure out the rest
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5385 Jan 3, 2013
The night unveiled
The morning sun
There is nowhere
to hide
No lies are told

As the day breaks
the truth be told
Another sleepless night
Another dance
in the devil's arms

Wasted and wounded
In your arms
I heal
in your eyes
I feel

Time stops
as the hours go by

Then fades
Another sunday
wasted away

It should be
wrong
It should be
bad
Yet it feels
so good

It feels
so right
What can I do?
You make screwing you
feel so damn good
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5386 Jan 3, 2013
She's not out of charity yet
fetching hunks sharp up
in cracked mirrors
must learn ever the hard way
must line other men shrouds
looking coyly around
graduated to new
level of understanding
handshakes oblivion
where kiss on a brow
pardons givers and takers
each time lifted highball
gets them crocked,
smacks both wet lips
talking moonshine and roses
turns a cheek towards slap
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5388 Jan 3, 2013
the seven angled fluid room of thought
expands to writhe upon the page

with livid river slant a frame of stone and
craft an anvil mantle shifted crane

upon an age of withered scale the
flinted names of things escapes

the night of blue and grey
beneath the oval moon
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5389 Jan 3, 2013
A blind faith takes hold
as the hormonal and schizophrenic January
envelops the city with dense fog
that regularly steams my windows,

Hinting at the heat of creation
that stews of late
within these beach side walls,

Alternating with breezes
that blow wood slats from my gate,

So that with blustery trees
in the front yard
spilling leaves on my laptop,

I blissfully pound the literary keysÖ

“Happy "2015" New Year ”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

Be Careful and Safe

#5391 Jan 3, 2013
truth is if I could be with anyone,I would still choose you!!!!
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5392 Jan 3, 2013
She called me up and told me......

"I think this man is sending me texts tonight because he wants to have sex
but Iím tired, plus I ignored him earlier and I do

want to say no and I do
want to tell you that this guy wants to fuck me,

right now, while youíre doing whatever in your
apartment or at a party, and I am just reading

silk and silent words marching like ghosts in bed
waiting for a text from you talking about how

this afternoon we saw each other.....and I want to tell you how much you mean to me."
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5393 Jan 3, 2013
I told you I was going to the bar to meet my friend,
but due to some of the things you said to me I was driving

on a drawbridge, and it lifted. Behind the bar are blue bombs
of nitrous and the music the girls are dancing to melts into a coating

like water silvering a one way street, the calm of looking but not
even being able to touch, of skin saying even though, life.

After a certain amount of time, glass gets powdered with wounds
shaped like a pixel too small to see.

There is no repairing of glass like that, there is only to melt it
down into molten and begin again, with a fresh soul. Inside

the shock on my skin right now, inside the mantle
that tells me I ought to be sorry, I ought to feel more,

I ought to learn something, and be alone for a while
is the pulse that chants about what I want to do, what I need

to do to be happy, how now that you donít love me,
I can fuck dudes who are way hotter than you,

or just somehow different from you, the part that knows
I must plow through happiness, clearing myself a path

even with a machete, even with a spoon, the prosaic,
elbows and then under that, a mouth that wants

just to suck on human flesh, see the health
of a naked girlís skin and feel

I am going to survive, feel that the world is truly
a marvel, and inside the body of that body

inside me, licking at the world, is the heart of that girl
whose love is as pure and simple as lust......
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5394 Jan 3, 2013
Somewhere around last year

I realized that the scarf strangling

my city could be fatal, started

trying to loosen myself

from myself wringing myself

with marigolds, which scare off ants

like lions uttered in the tongue

of human anvils, conquering lawns,

scaring God with eyeliner,

Mitzvahs and singing come in shudders

stretching across seconds, sailing

now Iím thinking those are the way out

sunlight stamping through the fabric

with its blades because the end

is muffled and itís behind the only one

coughing and when I close my eyes

I can share in your smile, and I think

that takes some of the burden off

being you.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5395 Jan 3, 2013
Mescaline, mescaline, thatís my tipple of toxin.

Bit pretentious, mineís an Amaretto on the rocks.

A book will give you all you need simpers the tiny reader on the aperitif womanís head.

Bite hard on a porcupine, crumple it up and squeeeze out its poison onto your lips booms the Lion.

I like a concertina when it sings, steams the anvil man behind his mask of glass......

The Lone Ranger ain't no stranger here !

“Happy "2015" New Year ”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

Be Careful and Safe

#5396 Jan 3, 2013
When you need to let go of someones hand,dont be afraid to be alone for a while.Wait and be patient,because someone in this world will find you soon.Somone whose hand will fit yours....
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5397 Jan 3, 2013
Princess Hey wrote:
When you need to let go of someones hand,dont be afraid to be alone for a while.Wait and be patient,because someone in this world will find you soon.Somone whose hand will fit yours....
ENOUGH ALREADY!!

Hey Princess......it's about time you packed your stash, and left here...okay ?

I've asked you nicely before......now I'm asking you once more...

Kindly take your sugary quotations to some other web site so that I don't have to read them anymore.....(Actually I stopped that long time back)

I sometimes wish you would take
another holiday, A longish break.
Are you really convinced you have the right
to badger me by day and night?

Thereís other things I want to do.
I love to write that is quite true
But these inane quotations you continually post here
are really exceeding what is sufficient or necessary....

STOP IT !!

Iíd like a little time for fun
A bit of time to paint and draw
I donít have time to anymoreí
I have some books I want to read
but constantly you fill my head
with this ,more than is needed, desired,
required, or appropriate....

IT IS JUST superfluous CRAP....IN NO WAY IS IT POETRY
(not even sexy)....

cannot YOU see
Sometimes I need some time for me....

GO AWAY !

~Adrian DeVine.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5398 Jan 3, 2013
I am nobody:
A red sinking autumn sun
Took my name away.

I give permission
For this slow spring rain to soak
The violet beds.

With a twitching nose
A dog reads a telegram
On a wet tree trunk.

Burning autumn leaves,
I yearn to make the bonfire
Bigger and bigger.

A sleepless summer night:
Yearning for what I never had
And for what never was.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5399 Jan 3, 2013
I love your throat, so fragrant, fair,
The little pulses beating there;
Your eye-browsí shy and questioning air;
I love your shadowed hair.

I love your flame-touched ivory skin;
Your little fingers frail and thin;
Your dimple creeping out and in;
I love your pointed chin.

I love the way you move, you rise;
Your fluttering gestures, just-caught cries;
I am not sane, I am not wise,
God! how I love your eyes!
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5400 Jan 4, 2013
We sip mango margaritas
at a sidewalk cafť
and wait
for a warm breeze

I watch you touch the rim
of the glass, salty and wet
droplets of sweat fall
down your philtrum

You touch the nape of your neck
push unruly locks into submission
which you twist, round and round
between your thumb and forefinger

I remember I cannot touch you
so I move my hands
down the body
of the cold glass

My fingers stroke my neck
feel the cool contrast against my skin
Iíd rather rub the lime from your drink
over your yielding lips and taste that tartness

Instead we talk incessantly
push night to her bursting edge
and prepare to leave it behind us
without ever touching.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5401 Jan 4, 2013
even though
she knows
a terrorist comes
she can bear witness
can tell you by now
we have been
together
our bodies
spying on your love
on naked hands
as they move to touch her
and make her over
another woman
marked by the embrace
of a man
known to leave scars
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5402 Jan 4, 2013
Is it the shiny fight thatís keeping me alive?
Through wasteland and desert.

Your entering may have a purpose, but I warn you
it will thicken my resolve.

From warn to swerveó
records to recover and lay under a tree.

Itís not hard. You wait
as the stars fuse at their core, you stop waiting;

and into the silo of sayings they go, smoothly.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5403 Jan 4, 2013
Maybe you thought I would forget
about the sunrise
how the moon stayed in the morning
time a lower lip
your partly open partly spoken
mouth

Maybe you thought I would exaggerate
the fire of the stars
the fire of the wet wood burning by
the waterside
the fire of the fuck
the sudden move
you made me make
to meet you

(fire)

Baby,
I do not
exaggerate and
if
I could
I would.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5404 Jan 4, 2013
Sunshine on some ample lips
mango dripping on the chest,
sweeter at the raisin tips
that look out darkly from the breasts.

Mango in the mouth and teeth
stringy diddling on the tongue,
in the throat and in the heat
of a knee-deep, gurgling song.

Mango down the navel coin
on the face of a navel moon,
mango sauce delayed at the loin
but O, dear, itís burning soon.

Mango slurped up in a tremble
in the rushing hush and thud,
in the rise and quivering rumble
boiling up through breath and blood.

Mango in the breeze-open room,
in the dipped-and-dappled glaze,
mango moon and mango night,
mango fans the morning haze.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#5405 Jan 4, 2013
I donít know the name
of the blues that shadow our path
one is sweet and light, a cool meringue
another sharp, but still
a third thick, pressing down upon the rest

Cobalt they would say
of the uppermost-
a blue that hums deeply
a harmony of firmament
refusing clouds
denying stars
shining inside the cosmos
a forever blue
where life dies
and is reborn
an eternal blue
that exists above the storm

A blue that doesnít suffer discord
that would smile if it had a mouth
embrace if it was armed
comfort if it grew heart

But instead it arcs
a concert of blues
hovering over the earth
in an endless ocean
of impossible quiet
thick with blue beyond blue
a blue that disappears
when clutched in the fist
a blue that is
invisible and solid

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