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Ronnie James Corbin  Nov 2013
LSD
LSD
I feel my pupils,
Dialate,
My legs become,
A nimble stalk of grass
Blowing in the breeze

Everything is ******* awesome,
The hand of God Himself could not bring me down
From this man made chemical high

I struggle to pull a cigarette,
From a freshly opened pack
Because I can't quite feel my finger tips
**** you, Marlboro..

Leaves shake involuntarily,
On the trees before my eyes
The little piece of square paper,
That rests upon my tongue,
Brings me harmony
Iska  Sep 2018
SunDrop
Iska Sep 2018
You asked me why I love you
And here’s a couple of reasons why:

You hold me like you can feel the
World, twirling on its axis
And if you let go we will both start spinning in an unending dance
And as we drift and glide among the stars we will slip and slid in the affections of the heart.
So instead you hold me
And I hold you, as if I never want to let you go, because while the stars are breathtaking, they lack the warmth of home. And while the dance is dizzying it’s hard to breathe without you.

Your eyes.
I could go on for days about your eyes. They entice me in their depths. The way the sunlight hits them in a wave of golden sparkles and then, you smile and I feel like i have a sunset for blood and a stardust heart. The way they light up as you behold the world.
The way your pupils dialate when they behold me. As if I am a star bright enough to burn away the world until it is just a breath, and a blur of color between our heart beats.

Your voice.
The way it rises and falls with the crisendo of your emotions. The way your breathing breaks up the beat of a steady sentence. The way it caresses my name like the breeze caresses a lilac blossom on a spring morn. The way it lulls me into a dreamy trance from which I have no desire to escape.

Your heart.
The way it’s song shifts, and tempo picks up, just a bit as I run my fingers over the smooth surface of your skin. The comforting rhythm beneath my ear as we match breathing before falling into dreams grasp. The way your heart strings tug and tangle when you fall in front of someone in need. How it pangs for those who have more misfortune then you. The way it’s song floats around me like wishes on the wind and tangled with my own until my own beat seems infinitely more beautiful and alien at the same time.

I have this irrational fear
That you will leave me
To chase after a brighter star.
And I don’t know how to react
But I do know, that if you did..
        I would let you.
And every night I would look up at the moon and we would agree
that you and the sun are alike.
Both so pretty and both just out of reach. And I would find solace amoung the moonbeams as I watch you spin dazzlingly amoung the sun as you dance between the stars.
kristine marie Jun 2013
I like the way you look at me.
Your eyes have that little twinkle
and your pupils dialate --

I can see it clearly in the pale green of your irises.
The corners of your lips curl into a smile, a smirk, a grin,
and the butterflies in my tummy start to flutter all over.
They creep into my bloodstream and send tingles throughout my limbs,
a tantalizing numbness that I'd savor 'til the end.

I like the way you look at me
when your fingertips graze my skin.
Goosebumps raise and my heart begins to race
as your hands find themselves in the right place;
Thighs, hips, and behinds; *******, necks, hands tangled in hair.

I see that twinkle in your eye and the grin playing on your lips,
and your usual pale green eyes darken a deeper shade of lust --

or is it love?

That sultry look and your bedroom eyes,
the rasp of your voice and your hand on my thigh --

*is this love or is this lust?
written on may 29, 2013; originally posted on my blogspot as a drabble.
Ray  Nov 2011
Speechless
Ray Nov 2011
All you do is give me your smile
And suddenly I'm weak, I can't speak
and my breathing grows hollow
My spine begins to shake, pupils dialate
as I try to form sentences
but they slip off my tounge
and hit the floor
as you walk away
Greyson Fay Dec 2014
A fish in a river he is.
A bear in the wild they run.
Wouns he inflicts on himself
Drawing blood
The scent draws them
Their pupils dialate
see the dark demons residing in the enchanting mask of the iris.
Wild, with rabid laughter they tease.
Seeing how far they can push a life.
Embarrased and humiliated he goes home
Carving knives in hand.
Your hands untied the noose
Without even knowing what it was
Everything you do, irony shades it's hue
We seem to embrace that chapter of life
That begins with us.

That jagged birthmark across your back
Where my fingers dance
Your eyes dialate, that cool black
Into my heart, your seed still plants.

Watching your fingers slide against the strings
My muse has returned
He listens when I sing
Shaking off his winter sunburn
krm  Aug 2017
Remembrance
krm Aug 2017
Live my life through photographs,  
see foreign faces of people as my eyes dialate while,
my brain has taken the picture no matter how many centuries.
Is that the meaning of an old soul? 

My paintings have improved,
mixing the colors has become easier,
irises are a video camera
while, the nerves can rewind the sequence of events
and how the portrait or picture had developed.

Who the people were
and what their lives meant.
I don't live a tragic life,
I'm not trapped in some cryptic looking tower,
Only trapped, by my own personal unhappiness.  

These pictures are a way for me to live vicariously through someone else,
Imagining myself there. 

These pictures are taken to capture a momentous
or joyful time in my life,

television and movies are like that in a way. 
They remind us of the miserable world,
but we have decided to allow our worth
to weigh our subconscience like gold, 
These pictures are memories that trigger another event,
in a vicious cycle. 

I promise,
You don't get pictures taken of the countless empty bottles,
the pills you've choked down,
the tube that's shoved down your throat
when they 'save' your life.

(That left me wondering why I had to stay alive and it's all about contributing-
keeping up with the rent you're due on existing.)


 The happier times are easy to forget,
we didn't run out of film.
Aren't those kinds of things in pictures we see?
The media tells you to cut the corners of your mouth so,
you can smile.. 

 
My mother died some time ago a year and some odd months,
my mind had accidentally snapped a picture of her,
still framed; her statue like chest, no veins flowing, and the urge to wait for her chest to rise again. 

I think,
waiting leaves lesions on the brain,
because, most see waiting as pain without any kind of gain. 
That's where trauma comes from-
waiting,
time changing, embedded in the bellies of women and dripping out of men's mouths.
Cycle of life.
NuurSeraph Oct 2014
Swimming thru
the panoramic sea, is me~
torrents attention maybe
too lazy, skies suprise~
would it be just a dream
or a smile
'en visage' of the moon
if my latitudes
were few
but incorrigible?

I break in align and drift for days
toasted flake for fish food, I make~
unto land, my eyes it seems
as tho' no shade
could dialate my mind, for dreams~
I must gather what waterlogged
faith I can find.

Should it take onwards of years
to guess my position
yet cannot despise for
my own limitations~
the pull of the Earth
will most definitely make
for the best
most accurate
decisions.

*Until that Day,
I remain
Cast Away
This is a poem dedicated to my memory of that Tom Hanks movie where he's stranded on an Island for years yet still has faith and vision to set sail to be discovered...
Could someone remind me of that movie title, please?
Thanks and Enjoy
Rachel Giudici Feb 2014
INCURABLE LOVE

And i thought my love for
you was contagious...

that the desire that sickened my veins
would infect your bloodstream to puncture your heart...

that the virus that suffocates my lungs-punctured by intoxicated oxygen-
would absorb into every particle that you swollow
into your cavities
holding captive my breath to kiss your lungs
and poison your bones in an elixir of
infectious passion,
intense admiration,
and--.

i am sick
as every cell craves you and aches for your love
so that love is a disease consuming my essence in decay, and rot, and soil
as only the return of such an overwhelming emotion
-oh my physical weakness-
could give cure...

CURE ME!

to suffer is to die in this aliment for i am weak and vulnerable to this epidemic!
please touch me and ease my breaking bones by tracing every wrinkle and line on my skin!
Please kiss me and ease my fractured lips by filling the cracked muscle with your wet tongue to remind me of a taste better than the medicine staining my throat!
Please look at me so as my pupils may dialate in my love for you beneath the sickened lids that blink back acid tears!

CURE ME!
CURE ME!

And in turn i will spread incurable love
King Dec 2018
Oh a skin so soft, sweet as silk
Pale complexion, entranced with silhouettes
Pearly colored, as white as mothers milk
Child which death can no longer threat

Eyes of stone, coldly staring
Ungodly vision of night, haunting souls
You arent even close, yet I feel you glaring
Pupils dialate as you target, your iris of rose

Velvet liquid drops from your snake tongue
Blood has stained your dapper wear
Monster of dark, you enchant while blood drunk
Even as your fangs bite and tear

The beast of sin, romance of unearthly desire
Intense reds, clashing on your inhuman skin
In one human heart you have lit a fire
Let the battle of nature and scorn begin

How could one not fall for the eternally young?

— The End —