Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2016 Joyce
SassyJ
Your stars glimmers
Belching, wrenching
Exposing my ethnic aura
A tape of heavenly bliss

The acoustic rhythm
Essentially subliminal
Satiably insatiable
Tracked traces covered

Your tree branching out
Railing through my bark
My bosoms blossoming
Tip-toe to my bareness

Your entirely arousing
A summation of beauty
A firefly to enlighten
Encased within to liven

A body I hold twinkles
Whistle magnetic presence
Sprinkle my mind to entwine
Assign your soul peacefully

A might, a light at sight
A whole in me,a one in you
Pluck, nip,smash,trap,stash
In dreamscapes and reality
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Randolph L Wilson
By the river of my youth on long , hot afternoons , with unkempt vision
and swirling water induced creativity .. My sun soaked edifice , daydreams of whirlpool and eddy , cane poles and wonder .. What majesty lies beyond these turbulent , perfect machinations ...
Addressing wild thicket , visions of DeSoto and warring party .. Cherokee
and Creek .. Tales of boyish wonderment , exploration and struggle along red clay margins ...
Copyright March 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Mar 2016 Joyce
James M Vines
Oh pain , and sorrow cuts me to the quick. What comes from a hateful tome written to spite my soul. How grievous are the words filled with poison that wound me and make toxic my soul. Oh fowl stench of criticism from my peers is gut wrenching, we're a knife plunged into my heart. Oh the Fowl deed is done, the poison words have cut me and curtled my blood , thus bringing me to a literary death.
 Mar 2016 Joyce
James M Vines
Murder
 Mar 2016 Joyce
James M Vines
Feel the rush of fear, hear the plea for help. See the blood spurt as you twist the knife!. Listen to the gasp for breath as the body goes lifeless. Look through the sight and see the face of your prey, just before the trigger is pulled. Watch in anticipation of the POP as the gun goes off! The prey is unaware of their fate. Going about their life then POP, the gun goes off and a splatter of Crimson ejects from the exit wound, as you see the shock of their face. Down they go, the image of the **** burned in your mind. Listen to the begging and watch the victim squirm, tightht are the ropes and black is the hood over their face. Struggling and pleading, crying for mercy where none exist in the cold heart of a predator. To a private place you go, where you can take your time and savor the taste of their fear. Each delicate morsel to be extracted as if though it was some rare treat. The victim holds out hope until the bitter end, enduring torment after torment, hoping for death but fearing the end. Not knowing when the blade or bullet will come, ending their suffering and putting the finishing touch on a masterpiece. Thus is ******, an act, a way of living, the essence of a killer.
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Not every day is a good day.
But every day counts.

Not every experience is instructive.
But every experience counts.

Not every dream comes true.
But every dream counts.

Not every hand holds yours forever.
But every support counts.

Not every way brings you to your destination.
But every step counts.

Not every decision is the right one.
But every try counts.

Not every day is a good day.
But every day counts.
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
It's not easy all the time.
We don't always sing and dance through the day.
We aren't always a wonderful happy couple.
We don't laugh all the time.
But why should we?
That's what's love is about.
Even on bad days: Never loose us.
Even on bad days: Never give us up.
Especially on bad days: Support each other.
 Mar 2016 Joyce
wordvango
I knew
 Mar 2016 Joyce
wordvango
i knew I thought I was wrong
had a brief second or two
where I knew
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Love always begins as a game.

A shy glance.
A careful touch.
A bit of teasing.
Nothing half and nothing whole.

But then it gets serious. From one second to another. If one of them is to decide.

Then love is not a game anymore. You shouldn't miss the moment, when you should stop playing.

Otherwise both lose.
Happy, that I've got mine. Decision of both. <3
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Love is pure
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Love is pure.
Without any lies.
Without any faults.
Without any anger.
Without any tears.
Without any pain.
Without any drama.
Love is pure.
It's not love, what hurts you. People do.
Next page