CJ M - Hello Poetry

CJ M Sep 2015

Weaknesses
My weakness is sweets, but don’t get it twisted, no food is found to weaken me. But a sweet personality can, so can a sweet smile, or a sweet touch. Basically sweet people are like sweet candies of different cultures, and I shall be a proud cultural culinary taste-tester, moving races like NASCAR in motion.
My weakness is money. The all mighty dollar isn’t so almighty to me, but what it can do is. I long for the materialistics of life that money can bring, and the attention it can get you from supermodel brides or low-key bed warmers. I like the feeling of being wanted and tolerated regardless of what I’d do and how I’d do it.
My weakness is power, for, if I held the power of a man’s life and spared him, he’d be loyal indefinitely, and that would be enough to satisfy my needs to feel loved. I’d have a friend who felt indebt to me, and that feeling of needing to accommodate would change my view on what was real and what wasn’t.
My weakness is attire, for you see, when I walk into a room, I want to draw the eyes of those watching, hateration rising in their veins and jealousy shown on there face. I want the Black haired beauty with the short red skirt and open-toed stilettoes with the dark purple toe nails and thick hips to come my way and think lustfully of me, is it a crime to desire such reactions?
My weakness is body, for I love a girl who can take care of herself. Long hair, manicured nails, teeth that aren’t begging to be drilled, it’s a weakness I have and can’t seem to fix. But then again, why would I desire to fix it? I’m not asking for perfect like a conceited rejectionist, or wanting more than what I can give like I was lying to myself, I want someone who can keep up with themselves before even attempting to keep up with someone else.
My weakness is *** appeal, because whenever she bites her lip and looks in my eyes, I can see rockets shooting through her glass lenses and aiming at me. But once I smile back, determined face, cute features and as much appeal as I can muster, explosions happen in her body that causes goosebumps to pepper her flesh like shrapnel in a war-zone.
My weakness is skin to skin, after all, it’s my right to want to be loved, why not demonstrate it by holding hands? Why not live past the edge and on the tip of existence like birds on a powerline? I am careful enough and she’d be loving enough that no vibes of failing would even cross our way.

Just a vent that I made and decided to post this time

#love #fly #weaknesses #tpj

CJ M Sep 2015

Expression #29 (random vent)

I have an emotion of desperation at the moment, missing love and desiring it but at the same time rejecting it and wishing it not exist around me, a conflict within myself like a caterpillar in its cage of a cocoon.
And I must get out.
I feel held back by strong intangible arms that are relentlessly squeezing the life out of me. Oh, help me god. But Its roper around my neck isn’t dropping me, rather dangling me with enough life to torture me with the feeling of emptiness, a feeling of no love gained yet none to be lost in the first place. Ironically, I can’t die from the misery and can’t escape long enough for my blinks to bring me back to the hopes of an alternative reality.
Every girl I pass by has a feeling of gymniphoria, but for what? I couldn’t imagine even if I wanted to, and yet it’s merely an attempt of my soul to gather the remainder of my dignity and ****** it toward my brain in a way to flaunt it enough for me to feel it sink into my brain that I am strong enough to fight the feelings and live past it so that I can thrive once again on my former levels.
But I can’t get on this level like Kevin Gates, I had to work down and back up but down once more, and here I saunter godforsaken. My voice in a constant crescendo as I yell to the heavens for their attention once more. Hear my ******* pleas, hear the small voice as it raises and sends mountains into a judder as my wounded roar reaches its ****** and shouts passed heaven directly into the space inhabited by my thoughts.

#tpj

CJ M Sep 2015

(******) Sensuazonia TPJ: New Day's Breeze

A new day's breeze can be the wind flowing over a dawn's night, or it could be vice versa.
But what is a new day?
A time frame maybe? Or perhaps a general lighting period....
Or perhaps it's a way of telling the warmth of your breath as it breathes pleasure on my neck as I lay beside you, leaning over with warm ****** kisses spanning from your milk chocolate forehead to your cocoa colored inner thighs, down to the creme colored bottoms of your **** soles.
I can raise a tingle as my hands lightly graze over your body, causing goose-bumps on exposed flesh, my tongue sliding over you, lips puckered now and again to place a calculated kiss in an area in need of ****** love.
Lips bitten, cheeks reddened even inder your skin tone, eyes closed yet still at attention, I begin to rub you, easing hands down and fondling your reproductive jewels, ******* in first and index finger shortly follows, acompanied by sensually tangible senses. Fists clenched, legs gaped, toes curled, I enjoy the sight to its fullest.
Fingers being soaked in ****** juices and noises formed from the loosed friction of you, I pull both fingers out, but not too far, and plunge them into the warm, wet abyss once more. Heavy moan, ***** bone, soaking fingers forced to slide out once more, being colder because of the temperature difference.I place the cool soaked tools over your mound and rub it furiously, questioning your enjoyment.
Seductive smile, swaying hair as you nod, hands once balled now on my hand guiding my hand in motions fantasized. Thick hips moving and bucking as our gazes lock in an eternal emotional interconnection. I kiss your lips and playfuly bite the bottom of one now and again before my tongue probes between both lips.
Tangled tongues, scratching skins, you slow me down and push me away, keeping eye contact. You unzip me and climb on to, scraping warm, attentive skin agains it, jolting me with pleasure.
From this point, both of our bodies connected as one, you on my baren lap and me deep inside of you, you begin to softly and slowly bounce, shaking clothed cleavage and abruptly bumping my ****** a few notches sooner.
Bouncing *******, hands in hair, head leaned back with moans escaping in small gasps directed at the ceiling, I grab on the back of you and grip tightly, moving you faster up and down, forcing your gasps to audibly increase.
grinding like coffee, shaking with sincerity, we do this for what seems to us to be an infinite forever of **** pleasure and ***** helplessness that makes us both ******, gushing mutual ****** juices everywhere. The warmth of my seed sliding down slowly inside of you, your wet juices leaking and lubricating.
Love was made, yet we were ****-frozen, once we leave there is no going back, no having that feel once more.
Gone like the winds in a short breeze...... And thus I know now what you are.

A New Day's Breeze

I've decided to one-up my last piece as best I could, so here it is.

#love #**** #*** #**** #tpj #sensuazonia

CJ M Sep 2015

Bleakness

I am the spacing between two stars and the planet that holds the life-blood of a community that I never hath lived in.
I am that which needs concentration only to tell you that you must let it come naturally rather than forcefully.
I am a thought in the wind and a concern in the breeze, and yet I can't flow like the wind can, can't skate around like air.
I am a tornado in the making and a monsoon already past. I am a kiss of metal on steel with a middle-man of silk-easily cut out.
I am a shot from a cop's gun that pierces the skull of yet another victim and the claws of retribution that inevitably follows.
I am a world of confusion and a place of infinite betrayal.
I am bleakness.

#tpj

CJ M Sep 2015

Hellion Romance

Hellion Romance
I am the waters that brace against land barriers to force them down enough for me to devour them, then conquer them and force them to submit to the weight of my aquatic life.
Ask Hawaii.
You are the moon, it is by your hand that I can do what I do, for you are what forces me to rise to your bidding or sink and sulk away with the tide.
We are partners in crime.
Partners in love.
Partners in terroristic excitement that we call our lives.
Hellions in romance

I'm not sure at all

#tpj

CJ M Sep 2015

Level Up (****** poem)

Kiss after sensual kiss leads to what I would find as an inevitably ****** placement between us, that avenue of lust which we mutually entered once we were on the same level of thinking.
I lean into you, inhaling the intimacy second after second from your tasty lips, biting your lip and running my fingers through your hair as my hands ease slowly down to your neck, caressing you and easing down farther and farther until I'm caressing a breast.
Call me crazy, but I think I'm in love, or at least its unmistakably destructive premonition. Lifting your shirt and kissing on flesh, making your toes curl under overwhelming chills being sent from your abdomen.
Easing back up to you, I can see your eyes, I catch them and keep them in place, letting you know full well that I intend to enjoy you fully.
And you let me.
Easing down and absorbing your figure, kissing and tracing down your belly and easing into a certain heaven before coming back up and stripping you down gently, making you smile at the gentlemanly figure that you call yours.
Can I love you down? lying you down fully extended, can I get onto you as if we could share the same space against scientific belief?
I ease into you slowly, only speeding in a way as to show my own urgency isn't priority.
And we make one. easing into your form, our bodies become entwined, become one at last.
suppressing your pleasurous scream with my own warm kisses, I allow us to combine again and again, and become one once more as our nerves and hormones take over in this ritualistic connection.
Made love? we make emotion. Stripped bare and enjoying the ****** pleasures given us, ****** after ******, kiss after juicy kiss and scream after luscious, pleasured filled scream until we finally reach what I like to call climactic end and level up in our relationship. At last, though we are still levels away from the final intimacy, we are closer than we have been before, and the closer we get, the deeper and more sensual our encounters are.

This is my first ****** poem. Sure, I've made ****** stories before, but never a poem, and to me, this is pretty sloppily written, but it's the first I ever made, so bare with me lol. I just dared myself to make one, so here it is, but it's more softcore sounding than anything

#poetry #poems #**** #****** #tpj

CJ M Sep 2015

Verse #8

I am a flood of giggles like a girl's bathroom, yet a rock so solid as to crack a skull when the right force is applied.

#tpj