A woman once told me, I was her go to man
doing it all so perfectly, and anyway I can
her body quivering endlessly
delivered of her fantasy's
ever full of energy, her ecstasy, the plan
Yup, my mind's there this morn :D
with slow, molten waves
as I sail through silken sighs
where lovers come alive.
Take me there
to a heaven that leaves me breathless.
And your eyes, your eyes spill fire.
Scorch my skin with your gaze.
Taste my dreams on pouting lips,
no artist's brush or fingertips
Paint me passion's flame,
velvet tinged, flushed cheeks
the kaleidoscope begins.
When my eyes find yours
I need--to die again.
How could an embrace be
as I touch skies.
the world disappears.
Take me there,
where spinning hearts soar
like diamond pinnacles
A powerful demise,
you bring me to my knees.
Lover, create my world
with your poignant caress.
I glisten like dew drops
on petals limp with relief.
Every glancing fingertip
traces a path straight
And I see my worth in your eyes
as you fling me to the stars.
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
demure doe eyes
affectedly nervous knowing full well
the atrocities that will be enacted
when we feel the electric fuzz
quite so new under finger tips
anticipation showing in the sharp glint of your eyes
bites back a no
prolonging ecstasy savouring every moment
eyes roll back
explosions of of joy come from me
to you....your back arching
my hands holding on for dear life
satisfaction showed in rivulets
pooling on your sheets
chest heaving, flushed cherry
bodies entangled among linen
two beings made one
It's hard to keep 'em open
It's hard to keep 'em closed
Those eyes of mine
Won't make up their minds
No flash, but I'll strike you a pose
It's hard to know what's coming
It's hard to not know, too
So I'll listen again
To the rain on my skin
Drop-drippity right onto you
It's crazy to put it in focus
It's crazy to lose the direction
But I know that it's near
(We're the only ones here)
We can try out our latest collection
Two dragons who can't breath the fire
Two monsters who make it instead
Four whimsical wings
Create mystical things
And keep on 'til they've been fully fed
'Cause that's when I feel it course through me
'Cause that's when the summit has maxed
And the way back to town
Is the only way down
Let's roll down 'til we land on our backs
Deathreat Man sent Mrs.Deathreat to the continent,
dud doves smuggled thru the Chunnel in her clungeal
cavity, but even the Olympicwatchdog’s
human snifferdogs wouldn’t conduct a narc
nosedive into Mrs.Deathreat’s Annsummersnumber,
coz the amount of drugs in the drugs
the Deathreats deal is next to nil,
contrabland, all the scorer chorma
minus the highness. Mrs. Deathreat
was mule with a hole, she was
Muffin the Muff, but hug drugs up her clopper
kept the pillheads of La Rochelle
social clodhoppers who danced like Joecocker,
so they sent
themselves to bed early outta pity
for their own unhappening, nonfunspasming
hips. They wanted to be eating their upperlips,
they were brownedoff that the grey gradegetter their mums
had maximised with Omega3 hadn’t had its chips,
in no danger of being Gallic Gatecrasherkids.
They wanted to be braiMDaMAged,
Bezzes in berets on duracell drugs, balistically
blissed enuff for
Balearic drill ‘n’ bass drum ‘n’ gluegun
bhangraggabba Gangsta Abba or the Triphopscotch,
but they were no buzzing sitting ducks
for whatever vibranium vinyl
spun like Lindablair’s head or whatever Tonyblair eversaid
on decks that layer beats.
On the plusside, none of Mrs.Deathreat’s fleeced Frenchies
would do a Leahbetts, but that would not console
the Pillheads of La Rochelle, les herberts, still tediously
on their cognitits unless the Angel Ravey L
- pushermanifestation of the patron saint of getting mashed -
up some of that numinous shit
a miracle drug effective without ingestion, Immaculate
Consumption, when all the laws of biochemistry go Petetong.
But, alas, riboflavin and ibuprofen are harder and more
cerebrum more signals of fly bo’ ravin’
than shonk Es Mrs.D
squelchily dealt from out crotchless unmentionables.
Now, the technotarantist addicts d’Avignon,
les personnes adonnees a ‘aving one
from Provencal Pontefract-on-the-Rhone
(where Picasso pimps scrimp
coz Cubist hookers ain’t lookers),
les avaleurs of mitzies and bishies
rather than le plonque (rouge ou blanc),
wou’nt ‘ave it if they weren’t ‘aving it
in that wellaged wine of a town.
They’d be sent spare
if Mrs.Deathreat dared diddle ’em there
with fraudulent Franglais avowals that they’d
‘avoir it large, Pierre!’
There’d be stormin’ Bourbons in Avignon, yeah,
if they couldn’t electwitch to DJ Saintvitus
because of some shite doves. Adamdroppers
in Avignon know their discobiscuits
from their biscodiscuits, comprende?
But the Pillheads of La Rochelle? Quelle pillocks!
XTCtablet escroquette sent by her deaththreatening
not dishwashening husbandit,
madame des merde mollies sent shit shivers
of letdown lucidity thru the cuddle puddle jungle
drums that pure vexes the cortexes of Senors Beeg
amongst thizz biz fixers, the Cortez Bruvas.
As young fluff she'd boasted more
overzealous sweaty inspectors than Ofsted,
but now Mrs Deathreat's hairy goblet
would be of sweet fanny adams interest
to the syndicate if only her fanny adams were sweeter.
Funnily enough, fact her serpent socket
is no Aladdin’s cave of Hacienda Hedex,
but more an Anadin Cove of dummy drugs
has dem Cortez muthas jumpy thugs.
Traffikers of Lover’s Speed in hock
to the Sam Madrid mob, they express
narcommercial concerns that mock mookers
up her thrushenflamed damianduff
are so cuttonaffall, it could senda fad for temperance
thruout chemiculture of a continent,all
the bluerooms and dancetents of Europa
being once burnt, twice straight
(or turn respectable taxpaying pissheads,
staying in caining an unprohibited crate or eight,
pickling themselves to preserve the State).
But before suspicion about the serotonocidal
supplyline snowballs, before the Cortezes
even depart the chilloutroom to kill,
or at least put les frighteneurs on her and the tangy
baggie of humbug harryhills, whack weekenders
up her suspenders and past her pudenders,
his missus was already on the homewardbound Eurostar
- for her darling Deathreat was a disastrous
domestic selffender, who'd sent a guava
to the vet's and put her Pomeranian in the blender,
tho' pertainian to value of life he's vilipender,
so to animedic aforementioned prolly not
Snoopy smoothie sender,
unless off the invoice for the guava's jabs
it might scare up a nice little subtrahender.
i dream of you i dream with you,
following the musings of the aching poet
blathering hyperbolic verbiage
where we leave entwined mortal bodies
for the impalpable enclave
we have created.
i dream of you i dream with you,
in sleep our minds meld
over aching bodies
and lift our spirits
to the ethereal nether-realm,
where we roam
sauntering through the fields
i dream of you i dream with you,
where the groans of the spirit
and its insatiable yearnings
find solace in the vastness
of the tangent universe,
existing outside our mortal guise,
alluded in our mind’s eye—
built by you and i.
i dream of you i dream with you,
in lucid dreams
where we know we are asleep,
but we just laugh whilst
walking through the gates of eternity
flourishing in the eternal splendor
we have created.
He wrote words that enticed her
whispered musings to seduce her
made her body tingle without touch
cajoled her heart with bleeding ink
He was half the world away
yet, she felt him so close
he connected with every part
body, soul, heart and mind
Every word was woven on her heart
his voice echoed, enchanting gracefully
intoxicating every beat of her life
the distance had become too much
He heard a knock on the door
there she was dressed in black
her aroma grabbed his senses
her smile left him helpless
Eyes locked in serene silence
he could hear her heart pulsating
as he placed his palm on her cheek
her whole body felt paralysed
as the hair on her neck raised
calmly he stroked her dark hair
beautifully elegant, complimenting
her soft tender delicate bronze skin
gently he placed his lips on her mouth
succulently kissing her glowing lips
finally tasting his beloved's nectar
Her eyes shut with ecstatic delirium
he kissed every part of her body
she no longer had any control
as he cultivated her body
planting his seed deep inside
passionately she whispered his name
as their bodies harvested
thrusting deeper and faster
with his tongue carving every inch
of her body like a chisel
Volcanic desire erupted
his words were now her reality
his embrace her sanctuary
as he held her tight
to never let her go
It needn’t even be a word --
just a mere sound emanating from your lips
penetrates me deep, flips an electric switch,
gets me buzzing, fluttering with an energy that emits
a charge so strong it moves me along
into immediate, stupefied orbit.
So often have I heard those breathless words
transferred from your throat to my heart.
It jumpstarts my blood and seizes my lungs
and vibrates me right apart.
Your conductivity builds effortlessly,
sparking a reaction within me,
as you arrest and possess with a binding current
that overrides and drives me completely.
Magnetic, your essence courses and runs,
powering me up and turning me on,
so that my mind is never mine for long
as inside me you electrify your dawn.
I am attracted to the static of you --
utterly drawn like electron to photon.
Absolutely seduced, addicted and fused
to the friction of your diction.
Your voice is most bewitching –
a persistent, elevating conductor
that beautifully orchestrates this excited state
into an accompaniment like no other:
I am the lightning flash of your allure amassed --
a sudden jolt of ecstatic shudder.
Desperately urging the next surging rumble
of your sweet and rousing thunder.