All poems found containing the word neck
Corey French "next way is to to tell you to keep your neck straight,"

i dont know how much longer i am expected to go on like this:

broke, unemployed the last four years, too talented,

used, though loved

the self centered qualities of my friends and family who all claim to know me has me broken,
I wish to just sit and rot in darkness rather than break their hearts with the the way it is

most could never possibly imagine going as long as i did with no money without digging in the trash,
I managed to set an example for the youth that cash isn't everything, that the secret is finding happiness, that the secret's to finding happiness is to find happiness.  

my decisions have cost me; everyone benefits yet nobody knows the entire costs see I let my bones rot and pop for the satisfaction of others
it would seem nobody's payed attention, but it's all cool it was all part of this teachers lesson the next way for me to get you on to your next way is to to tell you to keep your neck straight,
don't take a pill but concentrate
I gravitate
not cuz it's the only way
I'll leave and fly away from this this world  only if and when I want to,
it's not that hard to contemplate

Nat Lipstadt "than to fall upon your neck, and lips parted,"

Six Minutes

Created: Jun 18, 2011  2:27 PM

Finished: Jun 18, 2011 2:33 PM
-----------------------------------------------

In every breeze, in every blade waving to me,
I hear the poetry that encompasses;
the insects brushed off my tattered t shirt
are eavesdroppers, premature sightseers,
over-the-shoulder peekers,
wanting a preview of what has just been scored
and written up and how big a part they have.

shadows upon the lawn,
dancing a modest but frothy salsa,
my heart lips speak peace unto us all
and my eyes see my dear ones, beside me,
in my envelope of words, you are embraced:

to all, I say now you are bound to me
by thoughts of tenderness no lawyers can sunder,
that needs no caveated blessing from
city clerk or prepaid spiritual diviner.

my forked branch twitchs where wells,
nay, reservoirs of all cherished natural vitals
are awaiting for us to drill and drink,
raw, direct to the bloodstream,
which when warmed by a warmth
I have no words to describe other than
it is given and stored within for consumption
when sad moments arrive,
and when called upon, restores and soothes
when hugs and words cannot,  
but for now, for knowing, for keeping.

you though distant, grow closer,
and I will ride through the nite
with two lanterns to announce our reunification
after so long, what could be better
than to fall upon your neck, and lips parted,
whisper words of thanksgiving

Julieta Melano "time it's me with the collar around my neck and it's tied on *tight*"

Boy, you are a dangerous surprise
An exhilarating anomaly of a man
I mean I’m used to being the one pulling leashes, but this time,
This time it’s me with the collar around my neck and it’s tied on tight
Any crumb you toss my way I find myself cherishing
I am no deplorable woman and I am not a beggar,
But you got something mesmerizing about you
You got that enchanting smile
You got that magic touch
And as I roll my eyes back and quiver I am bewitched
The sounds of your roar make me purr
The smell of your skin gives mine goosebumps
Boy you are a dangerous surprise
An exhilarating anomaly of a man

alexa mary "let go as the veins are strained in my neck"

i'm either not feeling anything
or simply forcing myself to not feel
to grasp my own throat
until i feel i'm about to pass out
and let go as the veins are strained in my neck
and take in that big gust of air my body begged for
as my lungs begin to pump and work again
as my heart leaps and lurches
into all sorts of action, trying to make me feel
but i simply ignore the accusations
of trying to ignore them
altogether
because i just honestly
do not feel
or refuse against the very thought

Shyana Sri "u I am your warm breath blowing down my neck."

First day of 8th grade sex-ed class,
Sitting awkwardly beside you in my seat.

Closing our math binders in sync,
The health teacher strides in.

"Take out your folders class!" a loud voice booms,
I scramble to find it.

Taking out blank paper to write notes,
The teacher launching into a fast paced lecture.

"Thistopicisveryimportantblahblahnolaughingblah--"
Losing track of the words I stop and look to your sheet and copy,

To only see you have written one word--your name.
You notice me looking as I smirk at you.

I try to hold in the giggles,
Even though it isn't funny.
You reacting the same way.

I look up and catch your eye and I feel my tummy doing turns,
Why do you do this to me?

You look like your blushing but I couldn't tell as we both looked away,
Do I make you feel the same way?

We mirror movements without noticing it,
Life isn't making much sense to me.

I slump in my seat already bored of this lesson and let my hands hang loose,
I then realize how close to you I am your warm breath blowing down my neck.

I can feel you look at me,
Me wavering under your gaze.

You do something surprising,
You slip your fingers through mine under the desk,
Hidden away from view.

I feel myself panicking my breath coming out faster,
Blushing like a cherry red tomato.

I readjust my grip reassuringly squeezing your hand in a friendly gesture.
They say your first love never lasts.

But a girl can dream.

Daniel Magner "Arrow through the neck"

Arrow through the neck
only skin deep
permanent reminder that
you have to put in the effort
to pull back the bowstring
to send the arrow
flying

© Daniel Magner 2013
The Only "the crescent-moon curve of her cañamelo neck."

Choreagraphing islands mercilessly,
drunkenly singing about revolution in two-beat lines,
she sleeps.
Awkwardly, you attempt to summarize
the creation myth,
in order to understand
the smooth place under her jaw, the
tender behind her elbows,
the crescent-moon curve of her cañamelo neck.
The Egyptian eyes of the
morena stare, and the cat's
covoluted form arches over the sizzling radiator,
where your clothes dry after their bathtub washing.
Later, as you
venture through the urban topography
of el metro,
she awakes,
and is only a dream.

Angel Enriquez "ured in rhythmic tempos of head nodding neck shape shifting melodies that bounce in"

RAWEST-
most distorted synchronized  bass lines measured in rhythmic tempos of head nodding neck shape shifting melodies that bounce in and out- resonate through you so much as a deep tissue massage; if loud enough.

a zen state if you will.

whilest listening to "Tony Romeras"/ MAD (original mix) I suggest you do the same.
Swann "You reach around my neck and bite."

Silence called for us to stop.
So addicted to each other.
Strokes between your legs and lies,
thread less bruises, your disguise.
I saw your demons, you plowed mine
covered all in dust and lust.

Her eyes started once more
Entwined cruel tortures lure
my present past rejections small
talk, and even smile so gracious.
Soft blankets and white teeth,
Bedazzled songs of craving meat.

Sweetened by the blood of cats.
Melted in some fancy rats.
You reach around my neck and bite.
Put up some chandeliers to dance.
We kissed and laugh in front of shadows.
Rest our backs in wet cold meadows.
Met our end, our land of death vaults.

Hodgins "My neck is sensitive"

My feet are long
Long enough to be considered big
Both my big toenails are ingrown
and none of my shoes fit right
On my right leg I have 38 scars
Some of them are so faint
They are almost gone
38 and even though I put every single of them there
not a single one
is my fault
On my left leg I have no scars at all
None whatsoever
A blank slate
Marred only by a small
Dark
Splotchy
Crooked
Heart
it wasn’t meant to be a literary device
My belly is a minefield of pimples and hair and scars and scars and scars
the beautiful thing sticks out farther than my face
it’s large enough to be considered fat
and none of my shirts fit right
Sometimes I feel bad for my breasts
Always squished under the same two bras
inside
outside
inside
outside
if i flip them around that means they’re not dirty anymore
My fingers are bony and thin
People recoil when they see them
They don’t bend the right way
And it hurts to hold a pencil
Maybe they’re ingrown too
My arms are
arms
only one scar worth mentioning
and only worth mentioning
because it was the first one i put on myself
My neck is sensitive
and always sore
it sends a shooting pain down my spine
and i cradle it and ask
what
My face is bright
even if my eyes are dull
big and dull and blue with long lashes
too fucking feminine
i try not to make a 39th
its not my fault
i am beautiful
but beauty belongs to women

Trans *stuff
 
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