Jonathan 1d

Desire of the Night
Late chilly night on the street
you’re holding me
cloudy night rain drops pretty lips
you’re kissing me

Misty lights scarlet night
you’re my fun
for the night

Through the crowds
we fight our way
through the city gates
we make our way

with your hand in mine
our energies combine
desire of the night
with your touch
i feel alive

candlelight deep stare in your eyes
you’re undressing me
rose petal trails on your floor
you’re hinting me

Lingerie peeling down off your sin
you’re seducing me

Towards your wicked sin
I find my way
To your web
we make our way

with your hand in mine
our energies combine
desire of the night
with your touch
i feel alive

yearning for the touch of your lust
you're the nights gift to me

Enjoy the night

Lone smokers,
Byways faded into darkness,
Roads, people, forgotten by the cities,
Friends made from the smell of smoke rising,
Stayed comrades for life,
Odd no?
That a thing as a cigarette,
Could bond friends for life.

Copied throughout time,
From simple bacterium,
To complex amalgamations of single cells,
To the humans and invasive species,
Scratching and crawling upon the scarred dirt,
Showing the earth,
The true power,
Of The secret of life, and the spawn of man.

I live in this city, alone.
It is always cloudy here.
It is cold, and it rains all the time.
But you could find love in this city,
if you wanted.
You could look through the window
of an old Victorian house and,
seeing a beautiful family
in a living room full of books,
think: “this could be my family”.
Or, even  better, “I could be that happy”.
The city has no limits: take advantage.
This could be your land.
You could call this city home.
You could call this city: home.
Give it a chance.
Just give it a chance.
It’s not too late.

The wish to call the place where we live home. May it be this city - Manchester, UK?
Izzi 7d

those paisley soft eyes meet mine
in the midmorning mist of the
clawing cityscape on the horizon:
        and i think how
my blessing on Earth
        in the form of
                        too-wide smiles,
                awkwardly placed hands
            at your sides, and interlocked with mine:

       that blessing deep in the presence of a boy
    who shines brighter than the neurons in my nerve cells
when he touches me, electrifies me, turns
me yellow in
        and out,
shakes and rumbles my darkened
    corneas, ridding me of a fever i never truly
let go of.

my head is scratching with
the fruitful desire of the
growing seeds
of the trees we'll plant in our backyard -- then our front yard --
     then our everything will
                be some inked out deep rooted love of sorts,
green sprawled as stains on our
wooden plank floorboards
and i love this little sapling
from the roots up:
        in the palms of my hands
            from the
        in the caverns of my lungs
        and the
                       of my unbound seams of
                        my heart

you're so fucking organic and lovable.
Joshua Haines Apr 18

The roads spread throughout
  and past the city, like
the reaching veins of
  my body.

Scabbed trees, nude and
smashed by my
remind me of the time   I
  sat on the riverbank,  my
cousin receiving oral sex  
  from this gypsy girl.

You don't know the moonlight
  until it's all that touches you.

I don't remember her name
but she posed on motorcycles
and had sex with her uncle.

She was nice
  and the product of
a sad environment.

The thick earth around me,
smothered by nightsong;
it's getting so dark;
the light is escaping.

Heroin almost killed
  my true love.
Heroin kills everyone
  around here,
around just about every-
-where. This long dark;
  this nightsong.

Vexren4000 Apr 15

The smokers ally,
the fires spawn,
The hand of man,
Reaches to the flames,
To cook,
To burn away sins,
To burn the witch at the stake,
Ignorance the bane of man

Nylee Apr 14

In city of Mumbai ,
The dream city of India
The life is noisy ,
everyone is busy .
the culture contrast
in city small yet compact .
there is still place here for more

Sophia I Apr 13

Pace of shoe on concrete street
in every concrete face I meet
sip of concrete coffee cup
pause to tie concrete shoelace up
Look at concrete traffic whirl
or concrete alcoholic hurl
See the concrete buildings tall
(concrete feeling of being small)
Pass the concrete café here
Help a confused concrete sightseer
hum of concrete pavement slab
Hail a concrete taxi cab
Look at concrete little phone
pull up at the concrete curbstone
Pay the driver a concrete fare
Take a breath of concrete air
Pace of shoe on concrete street
leave the concrete city heat
Now I pace the leafy suburb street
and smile at every face I meet.

Wordsinalign Apr 13

The quaintness of a bar in the heart of my city breathes an air of charming, old-fashioned walls, it echoes of the days and night I sat there drinking my gin and tonic pouring my words onto pieces of paper or into hearts.. it reminds me that modern life is convenient but the quaintness of certain walls never die!

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