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A Beauty you are out and within
I have an insatiable desire to write poetry on your skin
Your body my canvas feel my gentle brush
Writing ******* with my ****** touch
Cinnamon lips I love your tone
Soft and silky to the bone
Finding words..be my guide
As we connect I come inside
Filling each other..there's no strain
Steady my thoughts I must maintain
Watching my penmanship using a steady stroke
I start hallucinating from my mental smoke
Sends me into a frenzied flow
I'll find my pace..go on a roll
My words soak in as you taste
My emotions invade your inner space
Down from your toes..Up to your eyes
Writing Haikus between your thighs
Poetry on your body every inch
You start writhing from my Scorpion pinch
Sinfully venomous my words forever sink
Into your skin my poetic tattoo ink
As you lay naked I visually feast
Every line of your body a masterpiece..
M.A.N 3-7-14 One of my favorites I really enjoyed writing this poem..^_*  ♏
I think about you so often
that I find myself in your dreams
searching for your spirit
to kiss you
to hold you
to know you
how beautiful the night seems
now that I've found you

Let our imaginations
continue to carry us beyond the page
and into our veins
for purpose
for clarity
for understanding
how lovely the days have become
now that I've found you

If it only lasts a short while
and all we have is this moment then I still wouldn't have it any different
to read you
to feel you
to heal you
how the hurt seems to disappear
now that I found you

Even if it is just the moment
let the moment continue to be as lovely as our dreams
(C) Maxwell 2014
Your fear was a beast,
It consumed you whole as you stood.
Tearing out from your chest
It ejected words like bile.
"This is the end of us,
Feel the pulse of death,
Maggots wriggle for your soul,
This... is.... the end!"
Sickly sweet it stuck to my face,
Sour and rancid and terrible.
Your fear poured out from inside
A gaping hole that spilled red.
Your fear was a beast,
That consumed you whole as I watched.
My life,
These times,
The epitome,
Of a downwards trajectory.

My existence is but a career,
I wish to resign,
So consider,
Every crooked letter of this poem
As one step closer to my resignation letter.

Recognise this note,
As my termination,
Of a short life,
Of poorly attempted dedication.

Working this life,
For minimum wage,
With out a break,
Except a broken sense of direction,
Displayed.

Life is merely a career
And I wish to swerve,
I wish to veer,
I wish for my torn family,
To not shed a tear.
Quitting Time, Again
words have so much power
you can bring someone up just as fast as you tear them down
you can create passion with a pen
go back and forth with your words
over and over again
without even seeing the face you see into the mind
soul searching becomes easy
he's already found mine
the disadvantage of knowing a poet
you cannot successfully hide
you cannot play games and disguise what you feel
because poets of all people know that it's real
emotions and feelings not felt once before
should i open a window or unlock the door?
(C) Maxwell 2014
If we...
Can't die for life,
Should we be alive?*

10w
Dedicated to fallen heroes who have laid down their lives for others- the military, police etc. May their deaths never be in vain!
I am absolute
ly in love with you but you
will never be mine
I'll spend my whole life
watching and wishing for a
chance I'll never see

(C) Maxwell 2014
"I love you"* I said

"I ❤ you" you said

And that fake heart is exactly what you meant by it.
Words are emotions, expressed from the heart. 'Love' in a 'symbolic' love heart spells fake to me, there is a certain uneasiness surrounding it...

© Maniba Kiani
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