Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Klouh Wordsmith Aug 2014
About fifty million years ago I held a small pink light.
I watched as it circled out of my hands and went out loose into the night.
Breaking all the barriers and lighting up the day more bright
Rivaling the sun 'round which Earth turns and making wrong turn right.

I left the place where I stood to come down for a bit.
The lazy feeling I am smothered in is causing me to get
Further and further away from the light and now, forgotten, it
Is dimming somewhere waiting for my return and knows not where I sit.

Whenever revelation comes back to my consciousness
I shall be reunited with that luminous
Orb of love and light and complete, utter goodness
Until then, I stay alive I guess.
Klouh Wordsmith Aug 2014
How much longer will I wait
I have no patience, I am not free
There is no person I look up towards
Jump out and over the ordinary
Break all conformity with my very breath
But will I be recognized for it?
Seeds of satisfaction are the embryos I shall plant
For tomorrow's good harvest.
Klouh Wordsmith Aug 2014
Less is more when we are on the floor,
Pull so strong in me towards
Rooster rising from your
Body,
Shove it all up inside me!
I am hungry, baby, hungry!
Drooling lick you **** - YUMMY!
Bare flesh devouring like we're two beasts,
Pounding harder, our chests heave
We inhale like drink of air
and let it out: Just breath
For you: urgent the need
Lustful aching my greed
To taste please of your seed.
Never filled up, I need
What? Wait - no, don't leave!
Lost without you, don't see
Getting tired of me
I love him so much, please!
Help, Dear God, I pray he
Returns to use me and never leaves
I must just believe
Guess we will have to see
Never freed.
Klouh Wordsmith Aug 2014
Hindsight-seeing, outside the comforts and shelter of denial;
But, (ha!) I triumph!
Yes! -Resistant against all bitterness -
How obese its pushy weight!  
Attempting, most surely, to **** with its fat stacked atop me -
&, though, my heart's always bleeding,
It has no more, by bitterness, been ******-to-death,
Than a cow is ever going to be a mule.
Oh, how I go on! It is not the fashion
Or likes of where modesty is shown -
I know: healing, blackish-blue but inflated just as fat
Is the Ego within my empty head,
Always making separations from the rest of what I am made of
Rarely heard bragging,
Sometimes defining whatever it is that I am.
Flesh-bound I am breathing
I may be compared to the waste of a steer,
Yet still, I'm mostly just happy.
Caring too much, yet very little about what you care about,
It took a lifetime to get this one right -
& that's that!
Wow, like 18 hours of writing, deleting, changing, adding, leaving it & coming back - b4 publishing/posting. Hopefully you - dearest reader - like it.
2014 Klouh Wordsmith
all rights reserved.

— The End —