Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
His body lost temperature as he pressed himself against the chest of hers, seducing her with his love.
With his sleepy **** voice, he hums her romantic morning lullabies.
The gray walls of the room soon embosomed with gleaming hearts of their beauteous lust and speedy soft breaths, leaving nothing more but powder blushes of crimson on her flowery cheeks in the springtime dawn.

The honeyed lust in the veins lit the bodies of two lovers like candles into eternal flames of romance.

Under the chocolate brown duvets,
Milky fragrances of the tea dances along the bare hands of two lovers,
while he serves breakfast on bed to her in an old-fashioned way.
Bleak morning mist tango around the vitreous skins of scratched windows,
as fat hummingbirds' tinkling giggles paint beyond the nature's smiley meadows,
sending a major abundance of lovable freedom and glee to the people.

In the bathtub,
Velvety calyx of dreamlover rose flows smoothly through the silk water.
They shower each other and let warmth grasp their naked body.
He kissed her dancing soul of chasms out
and tie uncountable amount of butterfly knots to her pancake stomach.
His abilities of heart possessions had captured the universe's breath.

Nothing has changed since day number one, everything is iridescent.
Everything is swimming in a magical pool of scarred perfections.


As the sun sets to the west,
The undarkened nightfall sings lulling melodies and let its harmonic fire burn the skies.
The shadows of their love whirl out unstoppable romance that vanished away void hopes and pain.
The lover's spirits echo and echo into spring gorges and dashing rivers,
Feeding darkness with lucent fragments of light.

Oh they were only two humans in love...
Or only a size of two negligible lovedust in the mystical galaxies...

But their endless love never fails to deluge the world with drizzling tears.
A facile spark of romance can be an amazing set of fireworks that creates indiscernible fruitful happiness.

Who in the world could resist this unpredictable power of their spingtime love?
in the bleakest twilight, stars, a rural sea
hues possessing confusions, mayhem;
like susurrous in the rivers the fugitives seek.

devouring words betwixt papers of prayers
the quiet evensong plays, the salted saliva swallowed
into Rome gardens of sea green and stars
a morose spirit bellow.

into the midst of the labyrinthine coral sea
they'll sail through the soughing seawind
conflating into ocean salts, erupt in mesmeric pulse
soon the April gales will shrink to a bated breath,
credence will turn into a sempiternal menace.

fiery suspires blown to my knees,
auburn tress covered a crescent beam
serenade a zero, I tilt to the drones in the haze
a scintilla of lukewarm left to trace;

to the sea her body lured,
losing panaceas and remedies.
into maelstroms she goes,
inhaling salt water, a spirit wet with ruth;
her grey bones into ash,
into watery cemeteries she goes.
footsteps like swan feathers,
flow to behind the tombstones—
where I will call the memories and lay;
to wake for the times anew.
 Dec 2013 Adam Mott
Nat Lipstadt
After reading about some tribal warfare in a far away land, I wrote this true story down. Now re-published every year on this day. Seems more appropriate than ever

one July 4th,
many years ago
walking the streets,
of the city of Nice,
situe on the Cote D'azur of France,
on the Mediterranean Sea,
where ships of navies
may safely park their sailors,
sending them ashore for R&R,^
they, leavened to disembark^^

how I came to be there is a
poem for another time

walking the streets,
palm tree resort,
along La Promenade Des Anglais,
coming at me,
Three Sailors,
unmistakably
American

one white,
one black,
one brown from California,
which I believe,
is still part of the USA

how we fell upon each other
in warm embrace,
smiling, bestowing
blessings of grace
not as strangers,
but as fellow signatories
on the Declaration of Independence

brothers,
long lost, reunited,
as if it had been many years,
since we last had our arms entwined,
one family from one far away united place

dialectical differences ignored,
even the wide-eyed 'Bama boy,
totally comprehensible, for on that say,
we spoke a language that
encompassed a single brotherhood,
a common histoire,
all on that
holy day

no tribes in America, no colors,
no religions,
only sisters and brothers-in-arms

I need not choose to believe,
for it is certainty guaranteed,
that should it happen again
twenty years hence,
perhaps with their great grandsons,
my embrace will,
exactly the same be,
for I know it true,
there are
no tribes
in an

American heart
^ Rest and recreation
^^disembarked to be leavened....either ok

written in 2013, but true story that occurred many years prior
how timely for this day and time
 Dec 2013 Adam Mott
Sleepz
Sometimes I sit here looking out my window forgetting to breathe,
with every single one of my teeth falling out on the floor.
I dont know what it's about, blood pourin' through my mouth like a water slide.
I have a headache don't talk to me,
I heard you lied and cheated on me;
why would you do such a thing i thought it was special between us but it's all gone now.
Pow pow, I feel myself hitting at my chest trying to catch my breath,
I remember back in the day when i used to play teather ball i was one of the little champions,
and now all i see is death coming for me like a rock slide falling on top of a car and smashing it so it rolls from side to side down a ******* ride to hell.
I know these words aren't really swell but this is how I felt the other day when i saw you ******* your best friend through the window.
Everytime i pass by one i sigh and take my shirt off look at my abs and feel like i worked em' out for nothing,
those thoughts make me mad so i wrapped my shirt around my fist and broke the window to pieces.
Can't you see what you do to me,
you make me to crazy,
i'm lazy every day but i guess this is how it is when you're depressed
you can't rest for **** and sometimes i even forget that i need to take a breath.
I forget to breathe when i think about people telling me their whole life story about me ******* up my life over something stupid.
I tell em that this has been the 50th conversation i've had with a low life person like you telling people how they should live their life.
I'm only 16 **** it,
I'll do something crazy and even though i'll regret it when i get introuble i'm trying to teach you
people a lesson.
I just wanna be alone can't you see i'm less of a person than everyone else,
less of a victim than everyone else,
less of a witness or a killer than everyone else.
I feel pain everywhere i go in my ribs,
i don't feel no air coming in through this window so i break another one,
except this one was with an open fist now i wish i didn't do that cause it's gonna get fat soon.
I feel like i'm in outerspace someone come and taze me in the neck so i can wake up,
i'm fed up with these stupid rules, these stupid schools that expect us to follow them
and these cops who enforce em'.
I'm sitting here in the hospital now don't know when i got here or who brought me here,
i fear that i'm still asleep,
but than again this all has to be a dream i can't be going insane because that would be a shame.
The doctor takes a look at me apparently i was up in a ledge of a window trying to commit suicide,
unfortanately it wasn't high enough so where the **** are my pills,
next time i'll remember to roll down a hill,
do whatever i want that's against your will.
I sit still because it hurts to breathe I'm missing something that had meaning to me and there goes a piece of my heart,
part of it is in heaven the other parts in hell now,
unhappy and dying trying to survive but can't.
God doesn't grant wishes he only punishes;
doctor won't you please wash my ******' dishes it's hard for me to trust anyone anymore now a days
that's the end of the race.
******* for making me feel this way,
and that's why i sit here forgetting to breathe with my teeth all over the floor,
don't open the door cause i wouldn't want anyone to see me like this.
Wrote this in August 2011 when i was 16 after a break up, as this point of my life i was very immature very heart broken.  I posted this because I am surprised at the way i dealt with my emotions back in the day in comparison to now.  I used to have very violent very dark thoughts, and i guess after practicing to understand my thoughts more i have become mentally stronger.  I used to have dreams where my "teeth would fall out", and i researched the meaning to those dreams and it is your mind telling you that you are afraid to lose control of something.  In this case it was the situation with this girl, and i did; i did end up losing control.
 Dec 2013 Adam Mott
Nat Lipstadt
t'is a seasonal custom of us,
(you did notice that us
is the centerpiece of c-us-tom?)

that in December, not November
when turkey precedes...

I take my slip of a gal
for a big bowl of pasta
and white truffles from France.

the eyetalian waiter knows
he made the sale when her eyes,
crinkle wrinkle when I ask,
upon which pasta
does the ristorante serve the
white truffles from France?

fettuccine, naturalmente!

in ritual grandiose,
the mushroom grated before our eyes,
shavings and specks scattered and disbursed,
part one of the us in c-us-tom done.

me, I grew up lower middle cheap,
Ronzoni rigatoni and Heinz Ketchup,
not just good enough, but a treat,
and I did not from truffle oil eat
nor speak.

two thirds of the way,
part two, I say, hey!
you know you don't have to eat the whole thing.

with eyes adoring,
she fesses up her tiny tummy was full
about half way through.

but she knows
me, I grew up lower middle cheap,
hate to waste the money,
that comes so hard.

part two is the part of the c-us-tom
she forgets about, but the part that
she really loves me for,
so who cares how much truffles cost,
as far her eyes are concerned,
they crinkle wrinkle at the taste,
of my remembering part two.
See http://hellopoetry.com/poem/hasta-la-pasta/.  If, now you got a craving for pasta...

Hasta La Pasta!


She stands in the doorway
As is her wont,
Bidding adieu to the retreating figure
Who spent the night in
Adoration of the Magi,
Her charms, her hair,
Her serpentine figure most fair,
And scribbling on Hello Poetry
Till his eyes said, no mas!

The retreating figure that be me,
Late for work at 7:20.
Over the shoulder I exclaim,
Hasta Mañana!
Which is silly because
My return is faithfully guaranteed,
Every eve for as long as I live!

She laughs and replies,
Hasta la Pasta!

Stop in my tracks,
About face and in woeful Italian,
Do exclaim, in a deeply serious timbre,
Hasta la Pasta?
Basta!  
(Italian for "that-does-it")

You can have my love, my soul,
But leave to me the labor of poetry.
Loving you with words is
my domain, the speciality of my terrain,
So no more hasta la pasta if you please,
And by the bye, I would love some
Tonight, say around eight,
At a restaurant where the moon is
The only light illuminating our faces.

7:45 AM
 Dec 2013 Adam Mott
Nizar Qabbani
My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.
Next page