Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  May 2016 A
jane taylor
come hither
bring the next epiphany
tho’ it may be shrouded
in the darkest night of soul
‘tis too exquisite
not to know
the wisdom folded

  May 2016 A
mark john junor
a spanish rose, she lingers in the corner
with some french sailor who is
just a breathing caricature
illustrated in ink and animated by alcohol
his four letter word vocabulary with deluxe cardboard delivery
but its his eyes that capture you
swimming in hundred proof they are
wise with miles of years
and wicked in a smoky dark room way
but she is too busy to notice
flirting with the stranger across the room
a traveling salesman with boxes
of rusty trinkets for crafty sale

meanwhile old jack is swinging on the gibbet
talking away the hours with his old flame and friends
he is a threadbare imitation of me
and that suits you fine
long as its three meals and a slice of pie
the essentials of easy living wrapped up in a lace hanky
its a little ***** and on the down low
but the whole digging in some
rich kids ***** laundry for loose change
never appealed to you all that much
so attached to old jack come to make your stand
both barrels smoking hot and ready to let loose
should any fool step to the line

we all watched with amusements
as the magician open his show with a shock and awe
that sputtered and fell
but we all loved his punch lines so much that we
cheered him on all night
the chorus girls got us all up and dancing little past three
and the suave singer had us cheek to cheek by dawn
it was another night to remember to be sure
memorable as stumpy swimming with the gators
we all shuffle barefoot in the sand
to our dusty beds
and dream sweetly of fiveash romance novella endings
and the beauties of dawn
we will be up to no good once more
all loud and proud
young and full'a *****
as a spring moon crests over seaside town
#love #romance #dance #devil
  May 2016 A
what others see as treasure
i wish not to obtain
if you point out an asset
i don't see any gain
i won't go to any measures
my goal is to sustain
i don't have many belongings
but i don't have any chains
where others find pleasure
material mundane
in a world so flamboyant
all i need is plain
  May 2016 A
girls walking around
free as birds
if not
for the unending
pulse of
Misery, the
sickening buzz
of Reality -
I've worked hard -
and I've Earned
but I hear and fear
it every day
for it looms, my darling,
oh! How it looms
  May 2016 A
mark john junor
she is a rendering in darker inks of lighthearted subjects
the eloquently illustrated surrealistic seduction of the heart
demure yet ravishing sexualization
the ideal of beauty offering itself up like a sacrifice
at the alter of some wanton hedonistic temple to gods of lust
she looks up at me from her practiced good girl gone naughty dream
and tells me that she wants me
wants it all to be perfect
like in the paris magazines
wants it all to be crafted in perfumed perfection
near to goddess as human can be
she is rendered in darker inks
but i am captivated by the lovely
entranced by the beautiful
enraptured by the perfection
as only darker inks can be
Next page