Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
echo
I
Can't
Wait
To
Know
You
!
...

*But I Will
~Love Can Be Our Mystery ~

whoever you are
wherever you be
i'm waiting for you
Darling
wait for me

**

(For My Future Husband)

18.08.2013
You say I am far away,

that would be in error,
close, so close, that our words
kiss and create...

my feet firmly planted
on a pathway, a bahn,
that leads to a mystery...

despite all that I possess,
what we need most in our garden,
is but a simple
daisy.

there.
a mystery,
unravelled,
a kiss ethereal
shared,
but the taste of you
on my lips, sincerely.
What ya doing?

Cheating on you.

With who?

"Here are the names of my lovers."^

Oh I thought it might be with all your you-think-I-don't-know semi-secret lovers on
HP.
Caught, and laughing, and loving it. Boys and poets: don't leave your tablet and you guns
unlocked.

^See "Here are the names of my lovers,"
from earlier today.
Timeless Poet

Who called me that?
Why make this line item,
A poem?

What means this timeless?
That
There is not enough
Time to elaborate all that I can conceive?

No, mundane, nothing more.
The POW poems arrive at all hours,
And we no longer care when and if you sleep,
For plain the answer, your internal clock, askew,
The answer already poetically enshrined,
Nevermore...

Did you deceive yourself,
As is your vanity customary,
That your scribblings
May last one day longer than your physical self?

Dddddelusionary, like confectionary,
God tasting for a few seconds,
Then it is just a song
Of get a long little doggies!^

Perhaps the phrase reversed,
The meaning peversed?

Poet Timeless.

Ah that's it!
Lay down your crafty pride, egotist,
On theTemple Altar,
It is already but a burnt sacrifice!

Before God, there will always be poets.

Yours the mantle to carry till you fall,
Then another man's children will lift up words
In combinations denied you.

They will take your scribblings,
Rearrange,
Just as you did, unawares,
There is nothing new under the sun,
Especially the illusion that there is
Something unborn yet to say.

Ah Poets,
Egotistical tools,
So easy to fool...





^ http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/chris+ledoux/get+along+little+doggies_20209623.html
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
Àŧùl
● Your moon who'll shine
On the darkest hour of night
Brightening up your path
When anyone else can't.

● Your long eyelashes
On the golden orbs of yours
Covering the eyelids then
When it is a dusty noon..

● Your gorgeous red lips
On the cute babyface of yours
Transforming the shiny smile
As a pout whenever we kiss...

● Your slender smooth waist
On the toned body of yours
Wriggling with full grace
As my hand kisses it....

● Your pain-bearing friend
On those days of pain
Sharing tell-tale signs
When the pain ramps up.....

● Your gut-wrenching partner
On the sleepless moonlit nights
Writing our epic in love-ink
When the nights get naughty......

● Your dream-man poster-boy
On the crevices of your mind
Posing for you in all those poses
As you often fantasize about me.......

● Your courageous support
On courage-demanding days
Facing all these obstacles in life
As we go on the road to nirvana........

● Your skill of creativity
On the pages of our epic
Rhyming along together
When you start thinking.........

● Your permanent companion
On the beautiful road of our lives
Living with you at the same place
When you bring the good news..........
My HP Poem #403
©Atul Kaushal
Being human can be incredibly painful
But to be human...to truly feel like a realized human being
is to feel powerful...is to feel an out-of-body experience
because we realize that we are beautiful, brilliant...
and deserve to feel what it means to
TO BE FULLY HUMAN and nothing less.

That our dreams, our aspirations, and our capabilities
cannot be restricted by artificially constructed restrictions.
And because of that we cannot allow under any circumstance
for the humanity of anyone to be negated.

That every inhale we take without helping legitimize the humanity of one more,
Is further securing the chaos which threatens our own.

That to love another human being,
no matter how strange or familiar, difficult or easy
Is to really understand the profoundness of our own humanity...
Is to love ourselves.
And because of that we cannot fathom a world
Where anyone is negated the ability to love.

Whereby the consciousness of our fullest potential
Understands no artificial restrictions
Knows no terror, war,or attack that can silence the eternal soul of its truth
And can only conceive of a world where everyone's humanity is legitimized
August 19, 2013
There was ne'er a time
where my pen weighed heavier than now

But who am I kidding?
I'm typing all of this, anyhow.
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
echo
As big as I see it

it's not as big as You -

You chose to see

through my eyes -

I choose to look at You..
...
Looking unto Jesus - the author and finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2)
from shadow into shadow there's no need
to measure honour nor to mete out pain
through the sad morning for each must abstain
from that fierce propaganda of the deed
which was by action of straight force decreed
since all the nature of this world's made plain
and we learn both the cure and the heart's bane
what makes us whole and what will make us bleed
truth does not give the agent much real choice
you get to act since there's nowhere to rest
this side of death that is the one sure fact
instead you have to give justice a voice
face the rough world and submit to the test
just hoping to get all the way intact
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
JM
Bent over cold granite, my left hand gripping your hair while simultaneously holding your neck down; my right hand hovers above your quivering, beautiful ***.

This is our forever

SMACK!

That was harder than you thought it would be,
your gasp and shrill "Oh"
makes me rise and swell.

37 huh?

Earlier, you had no idea why I asked you to pick a number between five and one hundred. Now, you feel the significance of your answer in your burning cheeks.


SMACK!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK

My arm becomes a windmill
of pain as I count off the numbers in my head.
Your gasps have turned to sobbing,
your honey is dripping
and my **** is granite.

*Welcome to subspace
Next page