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DEW Mar 2016
Torrents of vapor ridden wind, snatched at her hair.

Below, rattled the rapid, riotous and vast, rippling sea.

Churning, like a chewing, charming serpent's lair.

Once long ago I knew her; with time she left me be.

On the edge she was, with will to leap t'wards the horizons.

The brittle cliff would not give way, for even it was curious.

Dare say all of nature reacted for the most prurient reasons.

Even the sky descended to watch, with a lightning so furious.

She beheld no fear and the sky wept with thunderous applause.

Her bare marble-like features glistened in the gleaning of the gloom.

Why she stood there, triumphantly, tempting, terror, for what cause?

It will never be known, for she never was, in a time before this doom.

The earth shook like the hands of a beleaguered, berated old man.

It erected monoliths. Volcanoes, pluming molten magma skyward.

The red glow brought heat; earth thought to please her, or so was its plan.

The elements wrestled for the better view of that beauty stalwart.

Never had a sight been so majestically violent, so mightily tame.

Where she stood, should and would forever more be a sacred place.

The tempest of the elements raged on, though none would win the game.

A silence, softly, settled the rambunctiousness, and halted their race.

The skies parted with a sad and lowly somberness.

Every elated, embittered, element safely put to rest.

As the sun swept aside all their postulated, pettiness.

Rays of the sun showered her with bright white zest.

The lady, she moved with unfathomable grace.

She tilted her perfect head up to the skies.

With the slightest of a smile shook her face.

Like all before, she left them there surprised... and forever, there she stood.
I wrote this poem back in 2011.

Cooked by the fires resulting from the friction-full schism of a summer romance, the flames of which still linger to this day, I hold this poem dear to my heart, because I would not let those passions abate unless they are proved irrelevant.

And so, on this day that I will consider the anniversary of this poem, I bid you safe travels upon whichever lover's road you roam, hoping that you find love-everlasting wherever your brighter tomorrow awaits.
Martin Narrod Dec 2015
And no one else. Not a touch.
All the girls say they want to be you but you.
It feels like you're here. Like you're face is here.
I love all your smells. From the neck up and
The neck down. There are no outer limits,
Nothing too much, no one that could ever
Come between, or say words that could trump
The sounds of you that still linger in me.

I have bread and time for you always.
Whitney Jade Aug 2015
Candlelight shadows dance
Across this darkened room
Searching for any chance
To leap at something new

Yet, nothing new is ever found.
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
I am but the flower
nigh the wild fox's den
I feel earthen worms
that crawl about
my sultry toes and then

they move the dirt for me
relaxing me
I stand *****
in wait for thee

I watch the *****
nurse her pups
and though she has quenched
my love before
I desire a name and
something more

I so desire the honey bee
without her I feel untended
much unlike the tended progeny
of neighbor mother mending me

though standing guard
I wait for thee
to call my name
and fall on me

to drone a tune
and dance on me
and rob of me
the toil of seed

for a wildflower
by another name
should thenceforth
be deemed
a ****

'til the
falls atop
mine pate as
favor of the

∘ ⊱‧⌍  ⌈✞⌋  ⌌‧⊰ ∞
~Christi Michaels~May 2015~

I sense the wind
across my skin
goose bumps rise
         to your touch
         calloused hands
         fingers know just
         how firm to grasp

the light rain
Knowin' of a
storm a'blowin
           Your lips settle
           on mine
           firm and yielding till soft

We are nestled in these
suspended moments
between precipitation and
an all out squall
          Your fullness climbs into me
          finding my breath
          I inhale the quiet before...
          exhale, inhaling the Fresh of You

as this storm unfolds
pounding down seedlings of spring
rinsing all things clean
         I am awash with you
         unbridled passion having
         survived a prolonged
         season of thirst and drought

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
seedlings of spring.
I gave you up to see the difference a month without poetic words would be.
The truth is this, many images thoughts and musings went to die in a sea of letters, crying to be saved.
Cruel, though the exercise was, in denial I found a truth,
words are a doorway to understanding and acceptance.
Words truly are a universal bonding.
Unlike a pill repeated every four hours, words need to be taken continuously.
This I found was quite sublime, surreal and sensuous,
the addiction to sounds in words,
the addiction to vowels and consonants,
the addiction.
On holiday I read the in flight magazine and pictured myself in the basket weaving scene!
I sat and made a rhyme out of the ingredients list on a bottle of HP sauce.
My madness continued, with a limerick in the supermarket,
but they were not written down and they faded away like ink on a parchment.
So, gingerly I have returned to the sea of words to swim and describe the view from shore.
Before my addiction to words leads me to carve in my soft skin;
"Lexicographer is Legion"
"Lexicography is King"
21:19 BST
Kate Lion Jan 2015
i cry during Bambi
you cried in your car after your high school girlfriend tried to come on to you

you and i--
we wouldn't, but--
or tomorrow
or the next day
we could give ourselves away

we could shoot white deer together in the mountains without a license
the blood from their heads would make cherry snow cones in the powder
and we would have fun savoring the flavor
watching something innocent die

but how would we feel the moment it was over?
Ourfirstfarewell Nov 2014
The world tells their young
That abstinence is old fashion, that innocence is over and done.
That to make something of themselves
They must give this much
to someone else
That *** paves the road to success.
What standards should I view best?
Am I a woman now?
Look at me.
trying to understand my insecurity
Wallowing in pathetic purity
They tell me I'll never find love for more than a day
If I can't even let him get to second base.
That I should give my innocence to him,
I should join him in a ****** rhythm.
That I should have fun and forget what the bible has to say,
To find temporary bliss for a night and misery the following day.
Maybe I should fall into the mainstream,
Because popularity should fix my self esteem..
Am I a woman now?
I've tried so hard to lock myself away,
To keep myself pure in the light of day,
But night comes around and leads my thoughts astray,
Maybe *** is just a game we play.
Perhaps I'll test the waters but on the ground my feet with stay
I'll try things out but not go "all the way"
Am I a woman now?
God, I need you here right now.
I went too far and broke every single vow
Of innocence that I pledged to you.
And asking for forgiveness is all I know to do.
Am I a woman now?
Being broken by the worlds expectation,
Being deceived in my contemplation.
Don't ever lose yourself,
Not to birth control or the ****** on the shelf.
Not to boys or to loneliness in the middle of the week,
Be strong, be as much of yourself that you can possibly bear to be.
Because the negativity and hatred of the earth,
Will try to **** your spirit and tell you what your worth.
We're no better than the world and *** is a natural inclination,
But if we are the body of Christ we have a God-given obligation
I'm scared, have I done what I'm supposed to do?
Did I do what's right according to God or you?
Am I a woman now?
That's all I wanted, to be beautiful or gorgeous in someone else's eyes,
But I think I've only accomplished that by the words that humans make into deadly lies.
They looked so appealing and delicious,
But I'd advise you to avoid something so malicious,
Because there's remorse and expensive emotional debt,
When we conform to the world and allow ourselves to forget,
That God made *** a spiritual experience to share as a couple,
Only with each other,
It's a passionate emotion that should be known solely by a significant other,
The two bound by marriage, in spirit, and with rings
So that the world can see  they
Can show the world what each spirit brings
To a relationship in Christ alone
In whom my unwavering worth is known.
Am I a woman now?
--Emily Rutledge
Trey Evans Nov 2014
With all the things on my chest, I can hardly breathe
With all the things in front of me, I can hardly see
But it’s easy to see that my emotions get the better of me
Can’t help but admit I let love get the better of me
My heart tears kinda easy, believe me
Your words cut deep, and I bleed immediately
If I die, know that my heart still beats for you
Still wanting to find a spiritual connection with you
But you’re connected with another soul
Another whole mess I put my heart in
So to hell with the love that I put my heart in
Me and the leftover pieces of my being
Will try to make the most of being a human being
written 7/17/10
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