JUST SEX and POETRY

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Observer

United States

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#6160
Feb 19, 2013
 

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What I see here, is a host(s) of idiots "talking" to itself.
Shirley

Dexter, MO

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#6161
Feb 19, 2013
 

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Lady B_Good wrote:
<quoted text>
Hmm...
".....Reaching to her aching clit, she longed for his tongue, his hands, his c ock to take her but satisfied herself as he watched. She came violently, her pent up need oozing out over her fingers as Andy silently watched. That night they kissed as he caressed her breast..."
May I ask who wrote that?
Where is Adrian DeVine when you need them.
They were very good at getting us the authors name.
Please would you tell me who wrote that about Janet and Andy?
Shirley

Dexter, MO

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#6162
Feb 19, 2013
 

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One day the poet wrote me a good bye note. They said they couldn't take it anymore. I feared for them at first and then I cried for I didn't want the poet to go.
Others told me, "Have no fear Shirley Dear, he'll be back."

Lol

Now I am with those that would appreciate the AUTHORS NAME. I've seen the Poet occasionally post another name at the bottom of those beautiful words. Now I am with those that would appreciate the AUTHORS NAME.

Please and TX
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6163
Feb 19, 2013
 

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justaguess wrote:
<quoted text>
So, are you saying that you are Annette Marie Hyder..???
or...
more believable..
you are still hacking real poets and not even considering giving them credit for their works...
what a POS ..
enjoy..!
NO...I'm saying a person with a Wart on His Nose met a Person Similarly Afflicted as you seem to be, and said:

"Let me propose your name for membership in the Imperial Order of Abnormal Proboscidians, of which I am the High Noble Toby and Surreptitious Treasurer.

Only two months ago Laura-Beth Sutor was the only member. One month ago there were two more. Today they number four Emperors of the Abnormal Proboscis in good standing - doubles every four weeks, see?

That's geometrical progression - you know how that piles up. In a year and a half every one here will have a wart on his or her Nose.

Powerful Order! Initiation, five dollars."
OH ADRIAN

Dexter, MO

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#6164
Feb 19, 2013
 

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Lol

I do believe you've created some monsters out here
I do believe you've created some other poets out here
I do believe we've lusted after you and your words
I do believe you
ACEofHearts

Dexter, MO

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#6165
Feb 19, 2013
 

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Know any card tricks AceofHearts

Since: Aug 09

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#6166
Feb 19, 2013
 

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Trick or treat pest Trish can't hide it's stupidity .ACEofHearts , OH ADRIAN ,Shirley .... The list goes on and on . Rotflmao .... What an obsessive fool .

“New & Improved..”

Level 8

Since: Oct 07

Formerly From Kenya

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#6168
Feb 19, 2013
 

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PROFILE DeVINE wrote:
<quoted text>
NO...I'm saying a person with a Wart on His Nose met a Person Similarly Afflicted as you seem to be, and said:
"Let me propose your name for membership in the Imperial Order of Abnormal Proboscidians, of which I am the High Noble Toby and Surreptitious Treasurer.
Only two months ago Laura-Beth Sutor was the only member. One month ago there were two more. Today they number four Emperors of the Abnormal Proboscis in good standing - doubles every four weeks, see?
That's geometrical progression - you know how that piles up. In a year and a half every one here will have a wart on his or her Nose.
Powerful Order! Initiation, five dollars."
We named the Parrot Indiana..!

Since: Aug 09

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#6169
Feb 19, 2013
 

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Pie you Trish ? Rotflmao . Know wander you are so obsessed with me . Hey Ozzie go change your clothes .... That diaper and Moo Moo looks horrible on a man .
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6170
Feb 19, 2013
 

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justaguess wrote:
<quoted text>
We named the Parrot Indiana..!
Seeing it's you.....That figures!

Many platitudes are the cause of exposure or vulnerability to harm or risk.

Silence is the means of avoiding the idiosyncrasy of providence and foible.


The talkative parrot is shut up in a cage.

Other turkeys, like you, without a lot to contribute in the way of conversation, fly freely about......gobble, gobble....

~DeVine.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6171
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Take my hand and come with me
To a beautiful place called ecstasy
Undressing you with first my eyes
And then with my hands
My fingers running through your hair
A passionate hunger of wanting you so much more
My lips meet yours and our tongues entwine.
Caressing your body gently as I lay beside you
whispering softly, I love you,
I want you, I need you.
Loving you so delicately,
completely and passionately
watching your body quiver with such sweet pleasure
As my mouth explores every inch of your body
Touching your heart, mind, body and soul
You tell me not to stop you want more
I continue to let my wet lips explore your flesh
savoring every taste making me want more of you
My mouth can feel your racing pulse
The uncontrollable urge to feel your love
slow and deep inside me
With just one touch you respond
Like you could read my mind
Slow and easy we take our time
Your skin against mine
Our bodies melt as one.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6172
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Unfinished - ideas left dangling, incomplete
like poems that cannot find their end
I try to capture an essence that is hard to grasp
that wafts away frustratingly
like a vague scent upon a breeze
I write as though chasing down sunshine
- melted amber syrup upon the horizon at dusk
I am compelled to find the truth -
a truth that can only be found
by sifting through lies
like seeking a rainbow when faced with a storm
- rumbling thunder and mercurious lighting
ripping through the skies.
This but a dark disguise – the colour
found only when the sun breaks through

Will anyone make sense of my ramblings?
I doubt it but perhaps a few will try
…or maybe not
People are often too trapped by their own egos
to seek the meaning behind another's words
The human race, sometimes self-seeking,
selfish or filled with envy and spite
- still, I write
Why do I have such a need to express
my thoughts when it is unlikely these will
ever be fully understood?
Who remembers the clarity of day
when it is cloaked by the darkness of night?
Great artists have made an impact
but I have such a little voice
a vibration inside a box tied up with string
unlikely to be opened by many
- so few care about what is within

Sometimes I escape to another place
where the harshness of reality fades away
- still, I live,
but is this living
when day follows day?
Existence - meaningless and sometimes absurd
Foolish people fall for the dream,
my crying voice remains unheard
The rustling of leaves
and the creaking of branches
signifies the existence of wind
What is significant about my voice?
It is drowned out by music of the world
Clashing cymbals and beating drums
Heartbeats, footsteps
- pathways to another world
I search but never quite seem to find
a meaning to it all
and perhaps the hardest truth to accept
is that maybe, just maybe
there is no meaning at all.

“New & Improved..”

Level 8

Since: Oct 07

Formerly From Kenya

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#6173
Feb 20, 2013
 

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PROFILE DeVINE wrote:
<quoted text>
Seeing it's you.....That figures!
Many platitudes are the cause of exposure or vulnerability to harm or risk.
Silence is the means of avoiding the idiosyncrasy of providence and foible.
The talkative parrot is shut up in a cage.
Other turkeys, like you, without a lot to contribute in the way of conversation, fly freely about......gobble, gobble....
~DeVine.
LOL..you throw like a girl..

It's ok oz, you go right on with your plagiarism so called original thought thready..I'll just laugh and watch as Zero the Gay Blade tends its windmill.

Level 6

Since: Apr 12

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#6174
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Lady B_Good wrote:
<quoted text>
Hmm...
".....Reaching to her aching clit, she longed for his tongue, his hands, his c ock to take her but satisfied herself as he watched. She came violently, her pent up need oozing out over her fingers as Andy silently watched. That night they kissed as he caressed her breast..."
You have a hidden talent too.
wow

Norfolk, VA

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#6176
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Observer wrote:
What I see here, is a host(s) of idiots "talking" to itself.
I so agree w your statement! This person must be so lonely & sad. She/he is crying out to be loved by anyone :(

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

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#6177
Feb 20, 2013
 

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wow wrote:
<quoted text>
I so agree w your statement! This person must be so lonely & sad. She/he is crying out to be loved by anyone :(
. WHAT A FREAKIN' AZZWIPE ASSUMPTION, DUDE!! Adrian had many alias names..BUT ONE thing STANDS out..HIS Passion for Poetry. Whether it is taken from long dead poets OR his own work...HE is SHARING..the Beauty of Ages past and of the present. Reading his prose, transports you to a time where all was pristine and pure..NEVER letting the door cracked for Hatred to seep through...His exquisite taste of words, sensually placed to captivate your very being...just as a Man's tender caress on a Woman's breast... touches your inner soul of delight... YOU ROCK, Adrian!!
wow

Norfolk, VA

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#6178
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Colorado Chick wrote:
<quoted text>. WHAT A FREAKIN' AZZWIPE ASSUMPTION, DUDE!! Adrian had many alias names..BUT ONE thing STANDS out..HIS Passion for Poetry. Whether it is taken from long dead poets OR his own work...HE is SHARING..the Beauty of Ages past and of the present. Reading his prose, transports you to a time where all was pristine and pure..NEVER letting the door cracked for Hatred to seep through...His exquisite taste of words, sensually placed to captivate your very being...just as a Man's tender caress on a Woman's breast... touches your inner soul of delight... YOU ROCK, Adrian!!
You must know (her) him well
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6179
Feb 20, 2013
 

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wow wrote:
<quoted text>
I so agree w your statement! This person must be so lonely & sad. She/he is crying out to be loved by anyone :(
"There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6180
Feb 20, 2013
 

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look
my fingers,which
touched you
and your warmth and crisp
littleness
—see?do not resemble my
fingers. My wrists hands
which held carefully the soft silence
of you(and your body
smile eyes feet hands)
are different
from what they were. My arms
in which all of you lay folded
quietly,like a
leaf or some flower
newly made by Spring
Herself,are not my
arms. I do not recognise
as myself this which i find before
me in a mirror. i do
not believe
i have ever seen these things;
someone whom you love
and who is slenderer
taller than
myself has entered and become such
lips as i use to talk with,
a new person is alive
and gestures with my
or it is perhaps you who
with my voice
are
playing.”
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

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#6181
Feb 20, 2013
 

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Again so I subside
nudged by the softening
driftwood of your body,
tangle on you like a water-
weed caught
on a submerged tree limb

with sleep like a swamp
growing, closing around me
sending its tendrils through the brown
sediments of darkness
where we transmuted are
part of this warm rotting
of vegetable flesh
this quiet spawning of roots

released
from the lucidities of day
when you are something I can
trace a line around, with eyes
cut shapes
from air, the element
where we
must calculate according to
solidities

but here I blur
into you our breathing sinking
to green milleniums
and sluggish in our blood
all ancestors
are warm fish moving

The earth
shifts, bringing
the moment before focus, when
these tides recede; and we
see each other through the
hardening scales of waking

stranded, astounded
in a drying world

we flounder, the air
ungainly in our new lungs
with sunlight steaming
merciless on the shores of morning

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