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 Jul 2017
Jeffrey
I will begin on the plains of your abdomen,
gently tracing their rise and fall
as breath enters and escapes your lips
noticing like mountain dew,
how sweat begins to glisten on your skin

And moving up toward your northern exposure
I’lll scale your round, soft mountains,
achingly slowly yet steady just the same
while you beg me
to reach the sensitive peaks
But twirling just around them,
refusing your demand to bite,
and leaving two soft kisses where
a flag would otherwise stand

Then charting a course around either side
of your most golden coast,
instead gently running my fingers
(with ice held between them)
down your peninsulas,
toward the straights of your inner thighs
across the narrows that lay behind your knees
And though you spread your geography
to create an inlet to your ocean,
I will instead continue to attend to
the peninsulas’ ends,
greatly in need of attention
as they’ve carried your land
from place to place without complaint

Then rolling the landscape asunder
And revealing your southern exposure to the sky
I’ll gently explore your heart shaped dunes,
Soft yet firm, causing a vibration in the ground
as you express your approval with the progress
of the expedition

Moving on to the edges and ridges of your
so strong back, your femininity pronounced only more so
by how strong and broad your shoulders,
I’ll hold and rub them firm, thankful for the place
upon which my head at times will rest

And finally, the last frontier of this journey
The soft sweet center of your landscape
like swollen earth between my lips,
and then our hips like rolling hills
An earthquake slowly building
tectonic plates shifting out of place
until the world begins to shudder,
the room shake, and then fall silent
as our two bodies remain as one
while drifting off to explorations
found among our dreams


(National Pornographic was the alternative name)
 Jun 2017
Lora Lee
You are in my heart -
You reside
between the beats
sometimes I must
catch you
so I may simply breathe
I get palpitations
with adrenaline rushing
When you play
My heartstrings
My cheeks start blushing
The music you play
Inside my soul
Reverberates
And moves me
Down to my toes
I dance, I swoon
My feet turn to jelly
Hot burning waves
Sear deep in my belly
Oh this is crazy
But that's just fine
Play me and strum me
Until I make you mine
I will be your instrument
You will be my notes
Just beat the drum
until my heart floats
under the moon's glow
we sing out our joy
and the music flows
without inhibition
inside my being
And I am filled with wonder
At the power of my feelings
So keep beating on, heart
(Because I know you
Are there)
Let our tongues whisper music
Into the night air
 Feb 2017
SE Reimer
~


~==~
compassion
is   a   towering
tree,       its      roots
grow   deep,    for    that
space to  reach,  in  between
a    rock    and    hard  place.   to
find    its    nourishment    from   pain;
it’s     sustenance      in     life’s       pouring
rain.  for  its  seeds  lie  in  needs;   the  human
kind  of  suffering.  without  which  this  gift
would­  cease  to  exist.  a  grace  of  great
price;   a   pearl   of   bright   light.
well   - nurtured  it  spreads
it's  broad  arms,  to
swallow.   the
s o r r o w,
to  comfort
a   mother,
a   father,
a  son  or
a daughter,
to     give
hope    to
the  dark  of
their   night.
an ointment it brings
not just once or twice, but a
salve to soothe a breaking heart... for life!

~

*post script.

please, for one moment consider this... the human emotion of compassion does not, and cannot, exist without suffering!  compassion is in many ways like a mirror image of pain, and a man or woman with a well-developed gift of compassion knows it's great value is in its ability to enlarge our capacity for selflessness, for in sharing compassion we absorb another’s pain.  yet we must also remember that many kinds of pain are incurable and are destined to be borne for a lifetime.  therefore, equally important to that thought is this... compassion is not a “one-and-done” cure.  instead it is an ointment and salve that must be applied, as often as needed, even for a lifetime to those who we love.  and is not this the greatest pain reducer possible?  ( and what’s more, it also does serious damage to narcissism! imagine that... two for one! :). it is only then in this context that i say these words, "pain is the gift that awakens our compassion!"
 Dec 2016
Sally A Bayan
...are showers that come in april, unexpected;
sparks and bursts of fireworks that overwhelm
a new year's eve...and revivify a lethargic world,
with sweet music that plays on, and on, and on...
...cup brims with adjectives that speak wonderfully
of the purest of emotions, like an invisible smile
of the heart, or, a smile too shy, but can't be hid
while imagining first times, face to face situations...
...verbs and adverbs give truth to action, and reaction,
like the soft, sweet giggles that start, when hearing
a voice, or a new accent...the pounding of the heart,
when the phone rings, and conversation flows easy
and honest, time doesn't matter anymore...voices
go soft, then loud, yet, still charming and melodic;
the whispered weary sighs sighed when waiting, or
when goodnights, or temporary goodbyes are
uttered....all are vividly felt, and heard...

...these spurts and blasts of joy,
are sources of metaphors...they capture
the essence of moments sublime...giving them
life and color, making them last in one's memory...

...it is a God-given moment, when true feelings
are manifested...recognized....and appreciated...
ink refuses to run dry, when reliving in writing,
incomparable moments of joy....


Sally

Copyright December 31, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!!!  
LOVE AND PEACE,TO ALL.
 Dec 2016
Denel Kessler
in the dark
compass spinning
wanton wind
howling, wailing
brittle arms
in concert waving
emerald waters
whipped and raging

sky crushed velvet
sequins sewn tight
to the shattered
span of night
a million times
each time as new
with stardust eyes
with gratitude
Lord---

Help me

to slow down.

To breathe.

Deep.

To sway.

Like young trees

in the gentle breeze.

To the rhythm

of life.

Called

rest.

(edited)
 Oct 2016
Sjr1000
Of all the places
she sought to hide
She only found one
safe place inside
in dancing images
where the poetry
resides.
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