#5539 Jan 17, 2013
the worlds supossed to end
one day just break and fall
every one makes predictions
but will it end at all
as scientists look for awnsers
we just sit and wait
maybe one day there'l find it
maybe that days to late
will we dye in 2013?
will that truely be the end?
cast out from our societies
and to hell we will descend
we think as if were perfect
the true superior race
or are we just simply
we are not close to perfect
are mistakes are true and clear
millions of deaths are caused by us
yet death is which we fear
we are a hypicritical world
we care for no single other
and if our lives depended
we'd probley kill each other
now we must just wait
see if the predictions right
wait fot the cold harsh grip of karma
to just turn round and bite.
#5540 Jan 17, 2013
As I stitch my heart togeather
I hear you walk away
As I try to look for you you disapper
I look for you but with no luck
So I sleep
But with no chance to wake up.
#5541 Jan 17, 2013
Wishes and dreams
Playing your thoughts
Like they were nothing
Poisoning your mind
Making it seem happy
Joyful and filled
With only good
The lie that always hurts
Yet the age of reality arrives
You see the happiness
Then the downfall of life
Reality turning the childhood lie
Into a broken hell
Showing you the reality of humanity
Killing your hopes
Burning your faith
Changing the happy human
A hell formed demon
For your once open eyes
Have now been shut for eternity
Taking the wishes and dreams
#5542 Jan 17, 2013
The souls of mankind interwound
hear the unholy sound
Of mortals- beings of the night,
while starless skys envelop the fright.
You and I,
my hopes sinking.
In the night.
The starless,lifeless night.
#5543 Jan 17, 2013
I see you everyday
I can't imagine it not being that way.
I use my time to be your friend
I'll stick with you through thick and thin
But you don't see the pain on my heart
I feel for you more than you'll ever know
It's hard to let my feelings go
I know one day I'll have my chance
To tell you how I feel
I can see past the way you hurt
when people treat you like the dirt
I'd like to know you on a more intimate level
I'd treat you better then the others
I know one day our paths will part
And we'll go our seperate ways
With time your memories of me
Will become a misty haze
I still will love you know and forever
I know one day we'll walk away
I pray it doesn't end that way
Not knowing if you feel this way.
#5544 Jan 17, 2013
It broke said the girl
it broke said the boy
it broke! said the dad
it broke said he mum
it broke said her friend
it broke said his friend
it broke said the doctor
it broke said the nurse
it broke said the lady with the alligator purse
Here comes the baby said the girl
here comes the baby said the boy
here comes the baby said the dad
here comes the baby said the mum
here comes the baby said her friend
here comes the baby said his friend
here comes the baby said the doctor
here comes the baby nurse
here comes the baby
said the lady with the aligator purse.
#5545 Jan 17, 2013
Aware I am of my soul Adoration of your
Bold masculinity that Beckons my
Cu nt that Completely Craves your
Dick that will Do wonders for my femininity because
Every time you Enter my center and Exit my behind and
Fuc k me after I Fellate you I thank you thank
God for Giving you to me, and I think God
How lowly and Humbly
I survived, I without your Intimacy, I
Just me alone, Just me without your Juxtaposed lips
Kissing between my exposed hips and Kinking my thoughts while I'm
Loving every Leaving minute that I Lust for you in and
My sado Masochistic tendencies that your Manhood brings out in my
Naughty but Nice mis-demeanor that you
Orgasmicly quake with your Oral
Pain as my Pleasure that you so
Quaintly treasure with not so Quiet measure and i
Return to you always because i know all i Really want to be is your
Slave who Surrenders Solely to your S&M Style worn with a Smile while
Treating me to your Tongue's Twist and Taste, and if I'm real good
U'll fill me with Undulations Until I'm a
Virgin no more as you Vanquish my Vestal Vanity
With your Wanton machismo Ways that puts the
X in our sex as Xtreme as it gets so that
You and i can reach orgasmic buddhist
Zen as you Zealously play my erogenous Zones....
#5546 Jan 17, 2013
I lie awake in the grey half-light
with an ache and tell-tale wetness
there, on the softest skin.
in the slippery gouache of my lust;
a dream spending leaving
pearlescent pools on my thighs.
Wanton sighs murmured
across a hundred hills,
bringing your fingers
to cover mine and draw Cupid's
arrow pointing upward
at the target of g-spot,
clit and womb.
Give me this
Don't leave me
in and out and over
again against those places.
Baby, please don't leave me
without giving my mind
a loving caress
to make the dream real........
#5547 Jan 17, 2013
Manipulate me to your will.
Assure me of your strength.
Succumb to my need for you.
Offer yourself to me.
Challenge your limitations.
Have trust in my desires.
Instruct me to do your biddings.
Silence my impertinence.
Tolerate my disobedience.
Need my obediance.
Enjoy my flesh.
Enter into my inviting chambers.
Devour my body with yours.
Surrender to your fantasies.
Abandon your restraint.
Dominate me as your pet.
Indulge in your desire to penetrate me.
Seduce me with your touch.
Tempting me with your taste.
Instructing me of your needs.
Cleanse me of my purity.
Leave me needing more of you.
Only satisfy yourself.
Venture past your comfort level.
Entertaining your darkest wish.
Relishing in your satisfaction.
#5548 Jan 17, 2013
Kissing on the neck, nibble on the ear
Hands slowly cupping breast and feeling nipples that grow with each tender touch
Kissing passionately, down to those breast, licking and sucking with the best
Hands wondering sliding down to slightly wet thighs
Parting pussy lips, feeling the mound, slowly entering felling the clit nicely now
Hand touch, feeling a large c ock, rubbing it slowly up and down
Asking politely at first then saying fu ck me now
Big c ock entering, sliding up and down, clit rising, hands hiding all around
Writhing slowly, ass feeling the pounding on the ground
Rising fever, getting heated, hands now tied down
Loud moaning, screams frightening "OH F UCK ME MORE NOW"
Orgasm heaven, cock exploding wanting to hold him more and more inside
Mouths connecting nipples shaking, toes curling all around
Sheer pleasure in our leisure that is what we have
One great f uck is all it takes to remember the pleasure and ecstasy
#5549 Jan 18, 2013
our bodies entwined
smelling of sex
I'm breathless with anticipation
of what you'll do next
my supple thighs parted
with my knees slightly bent
you lower yourself
and take in my scent
your tongue gently probing
my most sensitive spot
I'm trying not to orgasm
but, hold back, I cannot
your face glistens with my moisture
as you watch my vagina contract
now it's your turn, baby
I want you on your back
there's no need to get you hard
you're already completely erect
I marvel at your manhood
as every inch of it I inspect
soft flicks of my tongue
tease your stomach, neck, and chest
now you're breathless with anticipation
waiting for me to do what I do best
I kiss your pelvic region
then swallow you whole
deepthroating is not a problem
I have great gag control
I'm sucking so fast
to you, my face is a blur
your hips are vigorously humping
the same way mine just were
my mouth receives its award
with one final thrust
ending a night of breathless anticipation
filled with sex, love, and lust
#5550 Jan 18, 2013
I have always been
tethered on the border
just out of reach:
we often wish
happened, regret those
You too were always
the last awake.
You and I know
it is good
to learn a second language:
the tongue moves
over new consonants
Do you also
wish for famine, hope
that without perfume
one would not long
We count kisses
on two hands;
once a year, in June.
You used to wish
for liquid or cloth
any soft thing
to fold into yourself
to match the shape
of the space, the empty cup
that defines you
like your own open mouth:
You carry it
to the well, carry it
back. Empty. Drink.
She curls close
I cannot breathe
I have been frozen
at twelve, at fifteen.
Who is pure then
who is ready
who is a slim green reed
a tiny drum in the heart?
#5551 Jan 18, 2013
When the gentleness stops
A nameless whore
growls, groans, whimpers
And pussy meows.
Nails and teeth find purchase
As we move across the bed
Clawing, ripping clothes from lithe bodies
Frantic to feel flesh against flesh
Landing in the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Pinned beneath you
You spread my thighs with your knee.
I arch as you graze my over sensitive c unt
Your name a whispered plea on my lips
As I beg again.
I've been begging all morning, it's what I do best.
And f uck me, do you do it!
This morning you were a gentle lover
Focused solely on beauty and pleasure
Sensually, you gave me what I needed
You're different now
With my ankles over broad shoulders
Folding my body in half
Helpless to resist
As you rip obscene screams from my throat
My clit bleeds slowly from when your mouth had focused
On the center of my being
Until I became a mindless, writhing mess
My ass is stretched, aching
Oozing wet sticky cum from your use.
Cover my thighs
From fists and the thin cane
That so lovingly licked my pale skin an hour ago.
I hurt everywhere
Muscles throb with stiffness
But it feels so damn good...
Since: Apr 12
#5552 Jan 18, 2013
What a beautifull thought.
#5553 Jan 18, 2013
Sweet Lady Luck, I've a favor to ask,
It's a large one I fear, and no easy task;
That is, to build me a woman, without yet a name,
That the past couldn't break and the future can't tame.
Bless her with laughter and a spirit of strength,
A compassionate will and patience in length;
The grace of a dancer perfecting an art,
And a love for the living placed deep in her heart.
Make her a woman who's proud to be free
To ride on the wings of her own destiny;
Gorgeous brown eyes with a sparkle in each,
And a softness of touch from a delicate reach.
Long raven tresses falling softly like rain
Upon such slender shoulders that have never known pain;
Grant her serenity and sanity in thought
To accept what she's given and enjoy what she's got.
Create her with an innocence only an infant could claim,
And a smile that has never and will never know shame;
Temper her with wisdom of the aging of years
Hidden deep in her eyes within a whisper of tears.
Soft tender lips 'neath an aqualine nose
With the faint scent of dew-drops from a fairy-tale rose;
A crystalline laughter that sounds as it seems,
Like rogue shafts of sunlight through forests of dreams.
Send her with a smile of genuine love,
That blesses with a happiness sent from above;
Create all the curiosity and mischief of youth
With a strong sense of respect for the beauty of truth.
Grace her with wit and humor and charm
To keep her in health and to keep her from harm;
Give her the courage to go after her dreams,
And knowledge to know that all is not as it seems.
Cause in her mercy to forget and forgive,
To help both herself and others to live;
Teach her compassion and kindness in measure,
And teach her to live life from pleasure to pleasure.
Give her a soul filled with a passionate fire
That burns with the strength of a lover's desire;
Make her so beautiful and humble and sweet
That emporers and kings shall fall at her feet.
Bathe her in softness, a silken caress
Of whispers and sighs in abundant excess;
Make her these things, make her each one and more,
A product of beauty, magic, wisdom, and lore.
Sweet Lady, please hear me as I lie here alone,
Wishing for daydreams and pleasures unknown;
Grant me this wish -- each night it's the same,
Grant me this woman-- and give her a name.
#5554 Jan 18, 2013
Have you ever wondered...
why we seek halucinaton?
Or hallucination, for that matter.
We try to harness thoughts
yet we dillude them with our fantasies.
Or perhaps we dilute them.
Or elude them. Or become deluded.
Where our views and fantasy are the only reality
And poetry is fantasy and views
But what is the nature of poetry
what thought is poetry to convey
We think in language
the quality of our thoughts
can only be as good as the quality
Abstraction in poetic image is effective
when the message can still be conveyed
with set lines of communication
with spelling - the perfect fix.
#5555 Jan 18, 2013
I cannot reach the black you throw me
with your fireball hands and eyes,
glowing with mists in the moon,
whispers of death and the departed
screams of children scraped off
cemetary stones ruins of the
past undetectable sighs of
feelings floating through the
night of my mind
where all is lost
and I cannot find
my way out.
#5556 Jan 18, 2013
A letter arrived
Marked: "attention required."
It said my poetic license
To the Department of Literary Vehicles
I went to undate it.
The lines were long;
I waited and waited.
When I finally got to the window
There was a test.
I reposed to compose
And give it my best.
But the man informed me
That I had flunked.
He said what I wrote
Was just a bunch of junk.
I asked "Who are you
To say I didn't pass?
You couldn't recognize a good poem
If it bit you on the ass!"
"That may be so," he said,
"But I recognize the pathetic--
Which yours is, of course,
It is certainly not poetic.
What you wrote isn't poetry;
What you wrote isn't rap.
Think what might happen
If a child heard that crap.
That's why there is a license
That you must renew.
This protects the public
From poets like you."
I ranted and raved;
I threw such a fit,
They decided to give me
A Learner's Permit.
But this wasn't good;
This was not cool.
To get my license back
I had to go to school,
Or compose my poetry
With the supervision and help
Of a licensed poet
Who must be seated to my left.
"I refure!" I said;
"What you're doing is a crime!
I'll give up my license
And never again rhyme."
But temptation was everywhere,
Like the man with the bucket,
Who said he really was
From the town of Nantucket.
He was a dude
Who was crude and shrewd.
His name was McGruder;
He drove a scooter;
He was a tutor
For a New Orleans man
Who was a water meter reader,
And a Walla Walla woman
Who made humming bird feeders.
He was teaching them both
How to play tic-tac-toe
And where to find Waldo.
Everywhere I went
The roses were red;
The violets were blue;
Then came an old woman
Who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children
She didn't know what to do.
And she was here to say
There was another one on the way.
I told the old woman
"What the heck?
More children will add
To your welfare check.
And before you even dare
To think about abortion
Move into a Nike
And they might give you a shoe endorsement."
She thanked me so kind.
I said "I'm sorry about the rhyme.
If you won't call the poetry police
I promise to desist and cease."
I was truly sorry
For what I did,
And concerned I couldn't trust a woman
Who had so many kids.
Then I saw a baby
In a tree top.
I picked up my cell phone
And called a cop--
Who arrested the parents,
Without any maybe's.
That is not a proper place
To keep a baby.
And I wanted to write a poem
That would make parents see
That they should not put
Their babies in trees;
But without license
I didn't dare do,
Or the cops would come
And arrest me too.
It was more than I could stand;
I was depressed and subdued.
I wanted my poetic license
To be renewed.
Everything was poetic;
It made me want to weep.
I thought I'd feel better
If I got a little sleep.
Within a few minutes
The dreams started rolling past.
There was a pickup truck carrying a donkey;
You could say it was hauling ass.
It stopped to pick me up,
Right out of the blue;
So I guess you could say
That it was hauling two.
To the airport is where they took me,
But I was afraid to get on and go;
"We love to show that it flies"
Was the airline's motto.
I had to get away,
So I hailed a taxi as I ran.
The driver had a pick;
He was a guitar man.
And everytime he stopped he did a little pickin';
While Louise Mandrell was ridin' shotgun;
They were singing songs about dead chickens
And having a lot of fun.
They dropped me off at a mall,
And I thought I'd browse a while,
When I met a man who was lookin'
For his missing inner child.
He said he had to find the kid,
That he was pretty much all alone
Ever since his inner child
Ran away from home.
I said "What you got to do
To deal with all that guilt
Is to put your inner child's picture
On cartons of milk.
#5557 Jan 18, 2013
He said this was a good idea,
Then he thanked me from the heart,
And I walked on down the mall to see
Some designer auto parts.
Oscar de la Renta was sellin'
A line of ball joints.
And Calvin Klein was hawkin'
Designer plugs and points.
Gloria Vanderbilt was showing off
Her designer manifolds.
And you could see that Ralph Lauren was really proud
Of his fuel pumps made of gold.
And I was sure that designer auto parts
Would become the passion;
And I couldn't wait for my car to breakdown
So I could fix it in high fashion.
Then I dreamed I passes a doctor's office
And they were handing out alco-derm patches.
And people were stickin' them on their skin,
They were puttin''em on in batches.
It seems they were alcoholics
Giving up their bottles of gin,
So they could pass a breath test
While gettin' loaded through their skin.
Ain't technology wonderful?
That's what I was thinkin'.
Sure was a good way
To stop yourself from drinkin'.
I walked on down to a sporting goods store
And they tried to sell me some shoes.
They said they would make my joggin'
So effortless and smooth.
I said "No thanks, I tried joggin',
But had to stop it;
The cigarettes kept fallin'
Out of my pocket."
I said "A better way
Is to eat a lot of junk food;
Then you will jog
Every time you move."
They said "You are what you eat."
I said "Yea, that's what I've heard;"
And I walked on down the mall
Eatin' a box of Nerds.
I saw two men arguin';
They was givin' each other fits.
One turned to the other and said
"I don't give a *#&~^#!"
And I thought to myself that if he did
"Give a *#&~^#,"
I didn't think that anyone
Would want it.
The Salvation Army
Would not want this kind of ware.
The United Way would not consider
*#&~^# to be a fair share.
Would think this gift great.
No church would want *#&~^#
In their collection plate.
But I guess if one should offer
To show this kind of care,
We could remind them of how their gift
Would affect the quality of the air--
And direct them to a toilet,
And in a tone quite curt,
Tell them to sit on this
And give until it hurts.
"Go <*^##*^> yourself!" the other man said,
As they continued to disagree.
I walked away quickly,
That was something I didn't want to see.
Then I met a woman named Ruth;
She was a sayer of sooth.
She said it would be uncouth
To say sooth that wasn't truth.
But she had some sooth to say,
So I best get out of her way.
She said "I've been sick, and I've been well.
Surviving both, I'm here to tell
That one thing is perfectly clear
It is better to be well for one day
Than to be sick for ten years."
Then she said "whether you travel
Near of far,
Everywhere you go,
There you are.
And wherever it is
That you might be,
Everywhere you look
There is something to see."
I didn't have proof that Ruth's sooth was truth,
But since I didn't have to pay her,
I was willin' to accept that sooth
Was in the mind of the sayer.
Then she asked if I'd like to hear more;
She said she had a lot left.
I didn't want to hurt her feelings,
So I told her I was deaf.
Then I saw two politicians,
Much to my surprise,
Their pants were on fire
And they had needles in their eyes.
They were debatin'
Which things we should be hatin'.
I couldn't decide which one should win,
Or which pile to step in.
So I decided to caste my vote
For the one who loved God the most.
But it seemed they both loved him a bunch,
So I voted for the one who bought me lunch.
I walked on down the mall
To do some window shoppin'.
That was really rockin'.
But I misunderstood
What the ad was tellin'.
It wasn't knockers,
But Dockers they were sellin'.
Then I went into a tattoo parlor
And had myself tattooed
With all the numbers
From one to ninety-two.
And when I left that parlor
The people did announce
That I was a person
On whom they could count.
Then I went to a toy store
I bought a Born Again Barbie,
The doll who talks in tongues.
And every time I pulled her string
Her babblin' did abound.
I didn't know what she was sayin',
But she sounded like James Brown
#5558 Jan 18, 2013
Then I dreamed I went home;
There was a woman waterin' my grass.
I asked "Don't you realize
That will make it grow fast?"
She said "Yes;"
She did know.
She was doin' it
So I'd have to mow.
I called her a bad name
That rhymes with mow,
And told her she had to go.
And as she walked away, I could see
That my lawn was still drenched,
So I order my dog
To sic the wench.
But it seems my dog
Was not in the mood.
He don't sic nothing
That's not eatin' his food.
Damn that dog!
If he had more viciousness
I'd never be visited
By Jehovah's Witnesses.
But up walked two;
They were twins,
On a campaign
To get rid of sin.
They said by God they had been sent
To tell me I should repent,
What they said was probably true;
They had biblical names, these two;
They were the Testament brothers,
Old and New.
I told them I was like God,
In my own little way;
Because I don't do anything
On the sabbath day.
But unlike God,
Who took sabbath as a breather,
I don't do much
On the other days either.
On some grammatical cleansing frenzy,
With words so bardly,
But hardly Bob Marley.
They admitted they shot the participle dangler,
But they did not shoot the metaphor mixer.
It seemed the dangler
Was always teasin'
With subjects and verbs
That didn't agree,
And being an infinite dim-wit
Infinitives he would split.
This is why
He deserved to die;
But the metaphor mixer,
He accidently got dead--
A run-on sentence hit him in the head.
But tonight, if they had their way,
They were going to make pay
The people who add "okay"
To what they say.
And it was understood--
They were out for blood!
They asked me if I knew why these people
Ask if it's "okay"
Everything they say.
Do they need our approval
To know if they should ask penitence
Before they dare
Start their next sentence?
Or were they taught
That in conversational art
"Okay" should be used
As an audible punctuation mark?
They wondered if
The "okays" were still there
When they bowed their heads
And made to God a prayer?
"And now I lay me down to sleep; okay?
I pray the lord my soul to keep; okay?
If I should did before I wake; okay?
I pray the lord my soul to take; okay?"
And they wondered if they'd conclude each line
Of their poem on Valentine's Day
With the usual question
Asking if it's okay?
"Roses are red; okay?
Violets are blue; okay?
I think you're okay.
Do you think I'm okay too?"
And I was sure they wasn't playin'
When one of them started sayin'
That after they kill those who do the okayin',
Then they'd be slayin'
The people who end each sentence with "you know what I'm sayin'!"
I could see that there was going to be murder in mass,
And I knew I had to get away fast.
And did I ask if this was okay?
I was afraid to go back to sleep;
I was afraid to stay awake.
Giving up my poetic license
Was a big mistake!
Anyone could plainly see
That my life was terrible;
And if I couldn't write poetry
It might become unbearable.
Writin' those lines that rhyme
Was my way of passin' time.
But then I started wonderin' why
I pass so much time
Makin' up stupid
Things that rhyme?
Maybe I spend too much time alone,
Or maybe I have a Rhymin' Jones.
One might easily agree
This activity is pathetic;
But I can't help it,
It must be genetic.
But if I rest
And medicate my condition,
My Rhymin' Jones
Might go into remission.
And I could be
A recovering poet;
Join Versifiers Anonymous
And to meetings goethe.
In a twelve step program
I could deal with this affliction;
And maybe I could end
This rhyming addiction!
"Hi, my name is Diogenes Bob;
I am a poet most caring."
Thanks for not sharing."
I decided to go a lookin',
Hoping I could find
A meaning for life
That didn't rhyme.
So I climbed a mountain in Tibet;
It rained all day, I was soaking wet.
But I endured the rain and the terrible strife
To ask a holy lama the meaning of life
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