Chocolate luscious lips
spreading opening
like a blooming flower,

Honey dew kisses trinkling down
while you drink
from my over flowing cup of lust.

Meaningful quips.

Said so softly, caressing whispers as

I whimper while softly
crying out your name,

Lustful stares,

while you extracted
a scream from my lips,

holding

my gaze all the while you've
probe my delicate rose bud.

Stockinged thighs and garter belts dance
to my ankles like swinging vines.

Hands on knees and up my legs,

opening me.

Licking, Kissing, *******...

We breathe rapidly.

Once again legs begin to part,

as quickening hearts beat faster and faster.
Music to my soul,

you breathlessly
call out my name,

Silken fingers touch,

unfolding petaled tulips,

Soft succulent kisses
traces up and down bodies,

the emotional ramification's,

left me speechless

while you profess your need for me ,
your love for me.

going insane,

grinding *****,
pumping groins.

"0oo-oh-ooo"

Screams aloud, muscles strain...

Proudly legs wrap around waist.

Soulful moans rant
the night as bodies collide,

crashing towards ecstasy

the seed is sown.

Passions met.

Heated to a cooling sweat.

Slowing the earth
is turning right again.

I can hear our hearts beating.

tangled feet's still dance together,

legs mingled in sheets.

Blankets scatter all over the

bed.

Spilling on to to floor.

Warm and cozy,
hazy feeling and a bit love sick too
like in a lazy dream.

Out of steam and out of breathe,

panting and trying to stand.

My legs give way and buck from underneath,

smiling eyes stare back at me .


Someone wake me from this dream.

Of

♥♥♥♥****** Gratifications!♥♥♥♥

Always Me Ayeshah

Walking Down the memory lane isn't always a good thing.   I hope we all know that not everything good in the eye is actually  Good. So is taking a stroll on memory lane is somewhat not healthy. What I'm about to do will somewhat heals each wounds and allow us to Forge forward. For every new friends I might have acquired this year might not know this but  every year, I write a short essay on Christmas and give Hope for the year rolling in. How many of us have gone through the worst in 2013? If we are been asked to count, can we ( -_-) ? How many of us have gone through the best in 2013? If we choose we can write them out. Anyone who's misfortunes supersedes  his or her  Blessings or Gratifications, must sit back and work thrice so everything might be put in Perspective  in 2014. One of the things I've learned last year is that; in life if we want something, one goes after it with prayers and supplications. If one never ask, the answer will always be No; and if one do not step forward from their comfort zone, one will always be in same place. I dare us to leave our comfort zone and acquire Faith and Strength. Christmas isn't all about gifts like Ralph Waldo Emmerson says, " Rings & Jewels are not gifts but apologies for gifts..the only gift is a portion of thyself", so I dare us to acquire Selflessness and give our whole to Christ.  Life is made up of little things, this new year, 2014, lets start from the littlest things, pray, endure, keep God's word, forgive, have open arms, be patience and God will direct and put things in order. This way our Gratifications will weigh more than our misfortunes. I raise my glass, we've made it again! I wish us all a happy New month and Year...
Opemipo Oluwole aka Debola Oluyomi

You stripped my soul,
Ripped me from my shoes
Where I stood
in innocence.
You extracted my childlike traits,
Treated my body
As your ******* paycheck.

My whole future
Was laid out in front me.
Now you fabricated a dent in it,
One that has shattered me
Forever.
I used to smile,
Be full of life,
Slept at night,
My body never reeked the incessant scent
of the lifeless souls you sold me to.

My heart ached everyday,
I longed for home, where safety was waiting for me.
Everyday I was a raindrop,
Trying to cling onto the window of hope,
But always slipped away.

You don’t understand the pain,
You’re only in it for the hunnits
Please understand,
That my dehumanization is not worthy
For what you gain.

My body became an abstract canvas,
For your ugly pleasures.
Bruised, bloodied, beaten, and battered.
Cuts and aches line my delicate skin,
But to you all my pain is fake.

You slapped my delicate face,
every time I asked for my precious prize of my childhood,
every time clear oceans surged out of my eyes.
“Shut the hell up!” You yelled
As I let out wails of agony.
You stepped all over me
Like I was a used cigarette.
You ignored my shrieking screams,
Actually,
You loved it.

You forced me
To comply with their beastly gratifications,
Only in return for your abundant riches.
You stepped on me,
like I was a *****, grimy, muddy puddle,
over and over
Even so,
I was still considered desirable.

I am NOT your canvas.
I am NOT your paycheck.
I am NOT your plaything.
I am worthy of honor,
worthy of respectful awe and delicacy.

I did not feel the worth of a human being anymore.
I felt ill treated, broken, bent, demeaned.
You stripped my soul, and,
Deprived me of my self respect.
And I will never
Ever
Be the same.

The only thought
That seeps into my mind
At sunrise and the brink of midnight,
Is that
I
Was someone’s *****.

Listen to the pleas of
Children,
their ribbons shriveling up.
Spouses,
their vows rupturing.
Siblings,
their hearts torn apart.
Parents,
Bawling for their sanities,
Waiting to rejoice
With their miraculous bundles of joy—

obviously to think and enjoy it
you have to turn your mind
into a mollusc in an oyster shell,
slow... slow... (yawn)... slower...
then you suddenly get electrocuted!
boom! now you're thinking,
you're not as tense as a running
cheetah, hard rock heart muscle,
not too eager on karaoke of karate,
you're the tortoise outrunning
achilles; because the brain enables
such functioning, it's not exactly
an eager heart in the university of
the body - and why is it that domestic
life has completely succumbed to
the gratifications of chemistry with
toothpaste and bleach and other
cleaning materials; i wouldn't
be against doping athletes, i'd tell them
to embrace it... let's synthesise another
world record sprint in the olympics,
because an analysis would mean
talking about 9.58 / 9.51...
and that would be as interesting as looking
at the rosetta stone for clarification
of ancient egyptian: owl, big fish, little fish
carbohydrates boxed;
and still a flea could outrun you,
a flea, yeah, never mind the cheetah.

Spirit is a unified field
infinite
in a state of perpetual expansion
seamless bliss
beyond the slings and arrows of creations drama
pain and pleasure
disappointment and gratifications
we live
in the
zim zum
A cauldron
hollowed out
of the the self effulgent light
the source
formless
the theater of creation
a dark space of dynamic geometry
of fractious binary forces
a merciless churn
an atrocity for the evolution of individuation
pistons in motion
a cacophonous feng shui
a tangle of webs
a grand illusion
of energetics
kamikaze planets
hideous cruelties and voluptuous pleasures
a swarm of form
hydras in heat
countless lights casting inestimable shadows
a war between heaven
absolute order
and hell
absolute chaos
our lives
a medium
for the gods of struggle
until our heads a stone

the exit door
is pure spirit
spiritus...breath
breathing made conscious
the big hush
the royal yoga
waiting for the guileless

Blessed are the hearts,
that are pure, sweet, and naive
Who guard their innocence through hurdles of life
Not letting it be tainted,
Polluted,
Corrupted,
By manipulations and greed...
Blessed are the hearts
Whose sole indulgence are the joy of others,
Along, with, not alone
Withstand, not with temptations...

And yet curses,...
Cursed, or rather, condemned,
Condemed are those,...
Whose hearts are full of filths and self gratifications,
Who are ignorant on the sufferings of others,
In the name of "I'm jealous",
Of comfort, of ambitions,
Spitting nothing but contempt,
Showing different sides of one coin,
yet alone,
on one's face...
Them...
Shame...
For they would never know the beauty inside out,... nor peace,
nor true happiness...
Is it what you want little heart?...

what terrible news, the marx in me said it true, article heading: mental health gets only 1% of council tax...£664 million a year on ****** health... £111 million on tackling obesity. here’s a simpler explanation... c.d. is part of hardware... mp3 is soft-ware... get a scratched c.d. and turn the hardware into software... then put the virus mp3 onto an iPod, which is hardware... then watch the technological virology take over... the host hardware will break, given that the parasitic software is implanted from a sick hardware it was copied from.*

i was redecorating my mother’s living room,
for a handshake and the prize:
don’t interrupt my drinking pattern, woman please!
so i found to ancient scribbles of paint,
but then hid them like a treasure chest...
i also found the vol. no. 2 of kant’s critique of pure reason
under one of the pieces of furniture...
over a year i lost it... blamed everyone i knew...
but in reality the realisation came when i rekindled
the bookmark coordinate:
it took me two conscious years to read heidegger’s opus,
consciously defined by reading poetry on the sly...
with kant i ended my reading with the introduction of hegel:
antonyms of a pure mind - the third conflict between transcendental ideas -
i got the antithesis straight away... mainly because it spoke of freedom...
while the thesis spoke of the laws of nature and 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...
0 central...
it spoke of sequencing of events... it spoke of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
as paradoxical of 2, 3, 4, 5... and 3, 4, 5 and 4, 5, and 5.
i think i better translate this passage to exemplify the point...
i lost kant for over a year and the **** sizzled...
i kept heidgegger for a year and i came out wondering
why it should take someone 15 years to study aristotle by the man’s suggestion,
so i had myself the alternative:
philosophy begins with awe... well... so does tourism.
let's just say there are corridors at the junction...
we say i almost pickled a cat's paw with wet cinnamon
or ketchup to imprint a paw-print with the gaff quote:
i was here, i found the sound meow inexplicable,
incomprehensible... given the human complications,
i decided to utilise meow with randomisation away
from my superior intuition... whereby the phoneticism
of meow was less than my eyesight and hearing...
so i announced the whiskers and fur and snake-eye in mammal
with a meow... i used meow to communicate with the complex
vowel-consonant reason, but i found my intuition
in rachmaninoff's vocalise wordless song... with my ear against
the radio dreaming away... so said man un-attentive of me...
that i managed to mingle my instinct without the meow
asking for butter... and instead for the daydream...
diva lute diva tangled... diva es lute es flos...
there i was... the cat of abashed baptisms at the fountains of
the baptist with my head wetted...
careless for the dung bag walking partner, or the plaything
i was forced to take interest in... my casual...
fat for keratin, as if fat translated from man unto animal
to ask the boar for the daydream of the conveyor belt
with lost fur and gained fat...
off with my shirt i too graded the follow-up...
as a loss in the tightened woods of winter with the losing shadow
of the shadows of beckoned crowns not adorned in vogue.
but this was only 1912... five years before the revulsion...
before the revolution... five years! spent in the abode of harmonics
by the piano i tried to mistune to write a deathly haunt of presence...
operatic alphabets twisted me into recovering from
the foremost attraction of failure... the neglige of virginity lost
to the public's applause missing...
i too could have vouched a coming back: of spirals away from
the champagne starlight in bouquet crescendos,
for the simple minded aura of perfection - but i vouched
hypnosis as the adequate precursor of staging fright
as the lost composition rekindled into revisionary composition
regained - there too i found the picturesque familiarity
of unsung hilltops regaining strength in the longshanks' heels
as if by deed of achilles in strength regained...
to frighten the lowlands with that glorious fame of
being poisoned by the gratifications of excess in the untrodden path
thus trodden by ear and echo rather than foot,
into the zephyrs of the larynx-ballerinas upon mountain-tops...
thus there, among the content misanthropes -
i too searched orpheus' mirror and prometheus' stone
to be bound to an eternal moment that denied all
other eternal moments and furthered the denial
by not allowing a bullish billion of china
its existential prowess among nations so frequented
by scandinavian description.

Old-Self   :D

By: Travis R. K. Sanders

Part 1
Ok so most of you think you know who I am and what I am about because you may hang out or communicate with me on a day to day basis but you don’t know anything. Fiend and slave to my body. How the urges are so powerful and how everything else quickly becomes irrelevant. Almost like living a double life but this is who I am and there is no escape. Sleeping with the enemy of the enemies. Uncontrollable and over-powering this ****** desire can be. Finish with one maybe two then moving on to two or three more. What kind of life is this for the beautiful and brilliant mind of such a insecure and vulnerable Virgo? Maybe it has to do with not having a father and I need comfort? Maybe I am over sexed and need it all the time or maybe I am looking for that someone to call my own? I don’t know what it is but it is filthy, ***** and disgusting that I give myself to so many others and have a hard time turning down those who wish to give themselves to me. Is it the lifestyle I live? Being a homosexual man. Surely not all homosexuals are overtly ****** and are in need of some type of ****** gratifications 24/7. Is it nature and has nothing to do with being homosexual but male? Maybe so but I can only imagine and pray that the day that I wake up diseased and infectious never comes. In need of a reality check and soul saving. This nail biting life is not for the faint hearted which I thought once beat with inside of me. Too many men to count but I know the exact number I think but I am no longer sure because that part of me will not open up completely. Yet I want to give it my all and let you in on why I am ashamed to approach those I find attractive not just physically but in mind and soul as well. Instead I lie myself to bed with someone I do not know. Strangers are easy to sleep with, oh my god did I just say that? But I know it is true because I have done it on numerous and multiple occasions. I need help I need it bad, this life I live is so sad. But yet through the weeks the months the years I develop a true heart beat and not the beat of pleasure and I realize finally that this was my old-self.