His touch was like sunlight on my skin the sweeping skim of kelp across marbled coat his webbed fingers tracking their rough edges through the sand. In the storm's howl he was calm the chaos of waves in my belly slowed an unearthly peace of tide-pool eyes that stilled the seventh stream. The waves roll out and the waves roll in and out my love rolls with them. Seven tears shed at Spring tide for love of a man whose heart is sea bound, sealed.
Hey Harvey Wallbanger I’d like you to tie me to the bedpost, baby And press your fuzzy navel to my slippery ******. Give me your white angel kiss and I’ll lie down like a brown cow While between the sheets you play the Italian stallion.
Like a kamikaze pilot head for my pink squirrel Then give me your ol’ Alabama slammer And pack a *** punch into that screwdriver of yours. I want a screaming ****** That’ll send me to blue heaven. Wu Wu!
So, don’t mention that ****** Mary With her devil’s kiss, Or you’ll find I can give a snake bite that’s as deadly as a B-52.
Instead let’s ride into the tequila sunset in our golden Cadillac For *** on the beach And on the sea breeze we'll hear an old love song sung by a ‘salty dog’ with a Gibson And watch a tropical storm over Manhattan We'll go to Peppermint Patti’s café And order an Irish coffee and a large slice of cherry pie.
Happy, after dark let’s drive home for a sloe comfortable ***** with satin pillows And fall into the sweet surrender of a summer dream.
I know that we are not made for each other But I know that time will allow us To be with each other. Will you Or will you not Accept the truth That not all people are made for each other But I know only us made our own destiny. Will you Or will you not? I will always love you The way I suppose to love you, If you don’t love me Just open your heart for me So that I will prove to you That I am worthy of your love Your commitment And your understanding.
I am a newbie here in English Poetry World because majority of my written poems are written in Filipino / Tagalog.
blankets of moonlight smother smoke tendrils as we sit in silence. struggling for sentences that slip through our grasp. occasional glances that we hide away. a sway in the dark. a hark for some semblance of closeness.
My grandpa Words he gave To me once upon a full moon “Son” he said “When you go into this life” “Remember, that love is a language “ “So find, my son, find someone” “Who speaks your language “ “So you don’t have to translate your soul” Hmmm.