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 Oct 2012 Anna
James Ellis
My guts and the stars' guts consists of the same stuff
which means, not only am I in the universe
but the universe is in me.
 Oct 2012 Anna
Seán Mac Falls
.
Your face,
Tender, round and dimpled,
Framed with gilded, carved, tawny curled
Whirlpools of hair, long, lighted, and sparkling,
Your face is the face—
Of Ireland.

Your lips,
Full, moist and deathly deep,
Are wells, not well for me, not safe, taboo,
Tantric, tall told tales of brave Odysseus
Under Circe's alchemies
Of forgetfulness.

Your *****,
The zenith of blossom in fabled
Elysium, gateway to the forbidden gardens
Of sage and sinners, warrior-poets, Aphrodite's
Envy, Poseidon's drowning
And smoldering Zeus.
 Oct 2012 Anna
Samuel
We are what we love and not what
loves us
             balance in creativity
unchecked, if we stay scared, we
   cannot progress, see

I AM NOT INCOMPLETE, I am

a full picture in
myself that loves and chooses to
love another pigment, a specific
style of painting out a life, so

there is no "completing the
puzzle", only expanding our
beautiful view like a new
universe of stars winking with
open hearts
 Oct 2012 Anna
Eliza Jane
longing
 Oct 2012 Anna
Eliza Jane
...It's the sensation your heart feels after watching an old film,
That lingering emptiness and intense nostalgia for the 'simpler days.'
The desire to have your personal 1940s Film Noir lover,
Or to have a love story worthy of an art-house vintage film.
Longing for someone to dance with you , slowly and gently,
When God has promised you a man of faith,
You also pray that
He is also,
A gentleman...
it's been a while, but finally, a poem.
 Oct 2012 Anna
Seán Mac Falls
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower,
And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed,
She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes,
Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,
As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair
And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,
Softly he drove his hunting command, homing
To his huntress.

Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance.
Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then
Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely
And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more
Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white
Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark
Dominion of her quarters.

In the middle of this carnal match they paused.
And looking into the forest beyond they saw
A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,
Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved
By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent
Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle
Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on
The human hunters did not speak.

Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep.
Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew.
He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing
Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle
As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood.

In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke
And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring
Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves
With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,
Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings
Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning.

Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid,
And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made;
She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed
Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable,
In Artemis’s wood.
 Oct 2012 Anna
Samuel
Distilled
 Oct 2012 Anna
Samuel
So blind we cannot touch
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