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 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
marina
i started popping pills when i was twelve and
pretended they would save me until i couldn't
feel them anymore, and i'm scared that i'll only ever
love you like that, because i'm beginning to feel
numb when you're around, but i get headaches
when you're gone. &when; the time comes that you
have to leave, i want to be able to let you go gracefully

(i'll spend the next three months whispering your name,
trying to remember what it felt like to want to say it instead of
to need to)
sorry does this make sense idek
i had a panic attack today
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
Ugo
Sag my corpse
in 32 degree weather
through the city of God
where paraplegics dream of running.
“Oh Rhodesian mercenary,”
humble my soul again
like in C(hi)(ca)ongo.
But remember
The revolution starts
on my mama’s bed
at half past six.

So excuse me while I smoke my drink like a Brooklyn Leftist from the 40’s tramples
burning cigarettes on cold pavements where codeine and Sprite
make any Tuesday fabulous because we already suffered from (and for) the goods of mankind.
But before you read me the history of Hatchepsut;
I learned the art of man within the confines of FCC regulations after my ‘Pa threw ******* out the window and made life in the cell not mundane by telephoning philosophical-entendres    
that tomorrow never happened.

He too was from the blood of the ancestors whose bodies were charred on as goods
whose children now char their bodies with the goods of the goddess of Victory—
the official trademark for the lost Exodus—the blood and blue moribund—
sagging pyrrhic victories in 32 degree weather as homage to their charred ghost (fore)fathers
who preyed to the city of God for bread
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
Ugo
Soulless,
We quenched our dreams with thirst;

bought the heavens,
Waving a country of radio love

As fee,

United under one Internet
Two Chocolate paper ******* announcements
And $6 New York Halal meat.

The mortal man always drinks his sea--
So ask your doctor about Nixon
And lift the verbs off your skirt
For Nemo
who replaced Icarus
And now twerks at synods
With ******* oven oil glued
To his left fin;

The same one God used to bet Satan over the soul of man.
THAT feeling deep inside
Trying so hard to fight it
Closer and closer, a moan escapes
It makes him try harder
Slow, fast, winding, grinding.
Everything becoming so far away, as I drift further into submission.
Can't fight it any longer
I scream w. pleasure
My body shakes,  THAT feeling fades, and I  come back to reality, just in time to see his face, my inner goddess smiles.
* this is not my work *
this poem was written by my Angel, the lovely Miss Danielle Ken. she's a shy poet, but she ROCKS MY WORLD!!!!
what do y'all think?
A kiss on the neck, a nibble on the lobe, a midday *** text, by a promise of deep console.

The wholeness of my *******, where your fingertips rest
Your lips.
A quick dip into the abyss-
Lingerie,
slips
slowly
risqué
...strip.
Flip positions.
Your wrists,
I want them bound.
Restriction.
Submission.
I want you motionless as I kiss my expedition down...

Your deep abyss, I can give you my answer, in depth,  solely for your bliss, but let's go back to square one, your happiness starts with my tongue, subtle licks followed by the patter of my lips, no longer free are my ankles, as I submit to you my wrists, knowing all along what turns you on is the throbbing nature that has over taken my pen,-is it you its yearning for?

Two inches more
and I shall welcome you inside the entrance of my esophageal door
how impolite would I be without offering a tour?
Let us slip down the walls until we reach the pits of the floor of my
stomach
-you've been here before-
I want to flood the shores of your beaches before the swimmers reach their destiny
You get the best of me.
Long strokes
You invest in me.
If I unbind you, will you stay next to me?
Digesting
The waves of lost control pulsating across your face...
you need me
I free you from your ties.
My thighs slide apart wider and wider...
I wade in the tides of your eyes...

Your thighs wider, as my lips come near, instead of my hips your grips around my ears, as I whisper sweet nothings to lips with no ears, but wait as I pause to give you no break, I slip ******* to let my tongue escape beyond boundaries unknown.
Moan,
scratch, bite then slap. Now hush, as flip you over, to pull your hair exhilarating your sensations to come over and over. Now both dripping wet, will you invite me in, it's only chocolate, an aphrodisiac, or a nemphos best friend.

Welcome,
Come inside.
It's slippery,
Slip and slide when you dip in me
Every time I'm still surprised at just how fulfilling you are.
The ride is thrilling
Abiding the hills of my ******* to will their weight
Up
And
Down
-The sound of your shallow breath-
There is
A depth
At which which you'll drown
Submerging great lengths beneath the surface of my sea
Enchanting
Entrancing
You instill great strength
When you're lying beneath me

Flying
Effortlessly

It feels like freedom.


To be inside you, and underneath, in control of your heart to my beat. Hands occupied, full grasped, stroking every inch of your fantass-tick tock, unwind your inner time clock with my ****, as I roll my hips, tightening is your handless grip, wet, don't slip, climatic joy as my tip finds your ****.

Release.
Your **** is the beast
That feasts
On my deceased beauty.
Really and Truly
I can not fully grip the grasp of the thought of my fantastic tick tock
Blown off the clock
-rock solid ****-
You won.
No man before has coerced me to come-
You have me at a loss to think
Sentences spilling in hologram ink
I blink.

It's such a quick motion, blink, rewet, now you have my full devotion, to divulge into your mind of the nature of what's been created by my subtle ****** notions, or a blunt hint, which allows me to explore more with deeper extent, long melodic notes, of your deep breaths that hum along my throat,
as I stroke,
take note,
I've physically exhausted you mentally by sensually exciting your frontal lobe.
highly sensual exotic ****** collaboration poem with the brilliantly talented Mr. Jason Brooks.
*side note* -we have never been intimate, never held any type of relations. It is the pure imagination of the mind that allows dreams and fantasies to come alive.
Enjoy :)
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
Zedler
Gripping dark leaded pencils
with tips as sharp as the razors
estrogen slit their wrists with.

Mischief produced
due to the size this heart
has been reduced to,
and deduce that she left
after growing weary
of the same being she's seduced.

Serotonin levels low.
Drugs will bring them up,
and perhaps under their
influence this [derelict]
will encounter the verb ****.

Endless void of
disappointments have
left him poignant, causing
an appointment to sell souls
to fictional individuals.

Admire the horizon while
he's wasting time rhyming.
Crying to keep haunting
spirits alive and using them in
literature in pitiful attempts to thrive,
simply to leave the entire world who's
abandoned him behind.

27 club. Second attempt
at having [conversations] with death.
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
marina
during summer, we avoided the ocean
because it reminded us how
small we really are, and instead of singing
lullabies to drift away in waves of sleep,
we sang all night long to stay awake
for fear that if we let ourselves go, we'd have nothing
left to rise for by morning

(i never closed my eyes, but i had one
hell of a dream)
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
marina
i thought your memory would
weigh me down, but it turned out to be
an anchor; i've never felt more
close to you than i do now
(and with this weight i'm clinging to
it's like you never left)
i was cleaning out drawers and i found my dad's favourite wristwatch.
i miss him.
 Sep 2013 charles hamilton
marina
these days, i like to pretend
my hands don't shake and
my lungs don't collapse
when i hear your name
[but you've been tugging at me
with puppet strings
and i don't know if
i can breathe
because you
let me or if i am
finally
free]
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