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Mohamed Nasir Aug 2018
upon a branch a pair of doves sit
and doesn't bend the branch a bit

it doesn't for being light and easy
no cares weighted responsibility

be weighted by gravity pins us tie
to earth for we're not meant to fly

as human wears heavy the crown
of  ******* of  the appointed one

crooing on a branch the lovers sit
the branch they sit don't hurt a bit.
Sam Hammond Aug 2018
Orchids bloom in unison, erecting from my brain.
Pounding impulses take hold that nothing could subdue.
In this life you've painted floral all boring and plain,
So I would like, in return, to paint you floral too.
Cryptic, like the night sky, are the bruises on your chest.
Burning galaxies of bites now light your new-found skies.
On the ground are teeth marks planted, bear traps set to rest.
Keeping guard of what is mine that hides between your thighs.
Red rose petals on your lips, romantic stains of blood,
Made more vibrant with each kiss that I'll force onto you.
On our tongues we taste and share in your ******* flood.
It fizzes in its ecstasy, mollitious honeydew.
But best of all, the syzygy when you and I are fused,
The two of us and love itself all where we need to be.
Now the impulses you've forced have left you worn and bruised,
Painting you in love and lust and ownership by me.
Written for my muse, an artist
Vivek Raj May 2018
You rewrite my history with your love,
My future is redefined with your lust,
You tied me up with your love,
And, I longed for your lust,
You gave life to my life with your love,
For I embraced a sweet death to be reborn with your lust,
You turn hell to heaven, my angel of love,
All while you slay me, my goddess of lust.
Vivek Raj Aug 2018
It's always been you!

If only you realized how much you mean to me,
Not a moment goes by when I don't stop to think about you,
Your peculiarity alone can do that,
And, that's always been you!

What makes you so special?
In layman terms,
You are my greatest strength
And, my greatest weakness.

The serenity in your halcyon heart,
The charisma of your captivating eyes,
The elegance in your illustrious smile,
The tenderness of your seductive lips,
The spark in your gentle touch,
The gracefulness of your alluring neck,
The radiance in your dazzling lustrous hair,
The lure of your hypnotizing heaving *****,
The haven in your scintillating navel,
The holiness of your ravishing waist,
The sanctity of your fascinating hips,
The wickedness in your mesmerising curves,
For my hopes lie on,
The gateway to your heart,
That is now open,
Through the divine pathway in your sacred forest,
Filled with untold and concealed secrets,
And, mysteries unknown to man,
For I hope to touch, nurture and caress,
Every deep wall in you,
For you are the prayer to my appetite,
And, the incarnation of my desires,
It is now that I get the privilege of being a being,
To realize,
You complete me!

You are desire,
You are passion,
The inspiration for wanting more in life,
The personification of loving life itself.

The paragon of my eroticism,
And, not an end will there be,
For my ***** crave,
To be destroyed,
By the ****** dynamite you are.

An eternal pleasure in sensual misery you are,
And, a heaven in my hell,
The zenith of all climaxes,
And, the paradigm for my resurrection.

The yearning for the man in me,
You are!
Silentnote Jul 2018
In the house, I am in the house,
No doors, only windows.
I perceive the world through these windows.
I was always happy staying in the house.
I am protected by the house.
I am proud of my house.

One day, irritated by the limited view of the window,
I wanted go out....
Tried 1001 ways ,still couldn't break out.
I am locked out of life, weeping inside.....

Somes flashes of realisations,
seducing-  its all yours if you want to take it...
Heap of diamonds are open, just stretch your hand...
This longing is pricking my heart with hot needles...
I hate this house...

In my deepest sorrow, a tear fell on ground sprouting a healthy green plant...
As I look up, there is no house....
I am in the valley of lush green mountains....
There is nothing for me, but to dance with joy....
There is kneeling in this dancing, for all this grace....
A Simillacrum Jun 2018
I want to live, but
I want to crawl inside my past.
Personal history
will set me free at last,
regardless of what burns my tongue
as if it's on the cusp of being said.
If I find my womb again, well,
good enough for me, I guess,
that I will have won.

I want to live!
I want to crawl inside my mind.
I haven't found dogs that write scripture
for all that I've searched.
While I realize it could be,
I ask myself, "How long will you toil
in the name of agency
all to find
someone to take your shame
and make it palatable?"

Trend is set from continued action
My inaction left me numb and blind
The trend is set that my earthly distributors
May take of me as they find me if I'm turned off
The trend is still the same as the dreams
My grandparents had for a better world
Trend toward full automation

Fine for '56
What am I doing now?
How do I live without
knowledge?

My distributors and keepers
kept me wet
in their fluids
using my blood
before but

They will not win this war.
I commit myself to sit and reconnect.
If a hand offers me happiness,
I'll ask, first, Which conglomerate?
If my choices seem chiseled
In the mint of coins
And the choices fit perfectly opposed
I'll remember my nose and sniff
Out the metals that fund this war.
I'll ask then, Whose coin is this?

And it's not ungrateful
When those with all the excess
Try and rule the world
Because of how bored with
What Is they've become
And exactly absolute

Well, what if
I decide there's no war?
Well, what if
I bow my head and take a knee?

People of my same society will laugh at me,
And chastise my every thought before
They say, for sure, "It's just how it works."
Then either crush me from high
Or forget me and play State of Decay
Until they forget how much they're worth.

I hold.
There is no war.
This is not a game.
This is our Existence.
Fragile at best.
This is beyond
Humility.
This is actual
Neglect.
Is it that no one wants to learn?

No.

It's that knowledge has been made secret.

Lies and secrets consume my world.
Michael King May 2018
Love not the taint of ladies of the night.
Their barren hearts intoxicate the
purest of faces, drowning courage
behind the lusts of false need.

Love not the corruption of the wages.
In life, desired.  In truth... a downfall
of the senses,  burdened by a murky
wave of greed and always more.

Love not the insistence of the glory.
A hollow shape. Not hallowed as some
believe,  but bereft.  Lacking a centre
of moral. A judgemental state of fear.

Remain empty. Remain a jug to be filled.
A *** to be planted. A trough to be doused
with nourishing, life giving water.
A dark room waiting for a single torch.

Remain chained. Remain imprisoned.
Become yourself in ******* then live
free of the lack of uncontrolled self tyranny.
Become yourself. No chains. A truth of life.
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