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Ren Sturgis Feb 8
Your body against mine,
no fabric in between.
Your body so smooth,
nothing but perfection to me.
Heart races,
beads of sweat build on our skin.
Penetrates deep,
and diving deeper.
Pure ecstasy.
Isaac afunadhula Dec 2021
A mother calls out to her little one
Listen to what I say child of my own
Up lift your hands for the blessings cry out
The precious gift of life lies here with you child of my own
The stars and galaxies and all that are with in measure not to this ecstasy
My heart shall always beat with this endless love
You are a song in the night child of my own
And now this joy will forever be witnessed till the skies fade away
Delicated to my mom
Luvanna Nov 2021
it was your sweet lips
sugary words drip
your eyes, your gaze, make me twitch
a knot in my stomach
when you flirt
when you touch my sensitives
all the small gestures
and your act of service
suddenly I'm your Queen Bee
I'm in a sugar rush
addicted, obsessed, hooked on
and I just ignore all the nutrition facts
Christian Bixler Nov 2021
There is a quality to desolation
that I have never seen.

I have been in a desert, touched
the aridity of it’s soil, and its
air like hot feathers
on my breath;
I have seen the sea far out
with only a blue smudge on
the horizon
to mark our return.
But I have never felt that terror,
that awe and loneliness
that has been spoken of,
and said by the poets
and deliverers,
to bring ones face
to God.

Do not misunderstand me.
I have felt these things;
at the end of a trail
leading nowhere,
on a *****
with loose stones
for footholds.
I have been in places of terror
and beauty
and been overthrown.
But not wholly.

I have not been still
enough, have not lingered
in those part-wild places
that have seen the summit
of my fear, my longing.
Perhaps even they, even
they, have what I seek.

I have not been still
M Vogel Jul 2021

With a twinge of internal dissension
I realized that I had  all along
been ******* nothing else,  but air.

This made  me--  a dedicated loner..
smile, profoundly.

I chased myself around the room..
playing,  hard to get..
But me
with me
will always  be gotten.

I  got  that, my loves
..get that?

Hamna May 2021
Life is a play
But not a play where one
                                               feels ecstatic in its ecstasy
All you need is
                            To wade bitter rivers of grief
                                        Battered desires
Rebecca Brenes Apr 2021
I have friends in High Places,
good friends
tripping *****
floating atop mushroom clouds of ecstasy
in otherworldly dimensions
pioneering the mental landscape,
explorers of the mind and soul
breaking free of the Iron Cage
living to Love
working only to get by
getting high
to escape
to a place
where mere existence
makes sense.
In honor of Bicycle Day. And inspired by the poetic ramblings of Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac.

© 04/19/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
The seed was planted in
A not so fertile land
And tremors were felt by the trees around
As the Almighty himself descended

Me, a mere spectator
Awestruck with the view
For the powerful seed
Transmuted the deciduous trees
With electric streams
As if the exuberance of the Divine seed
Gushed into their roots and leaves

The Bewildered me
Paid no heed
And embarked on to nurture
the miraculous seed
Every Morning with love and devotion

O Shambhavi, The Eyes of the Closed Eyes
Teasing me from beyond-
Enough to keep me intoxicated for the day;
Tell me how long is the wait
Till I see the Flower of limitless ecstasy
Shambhavi is a meditation practice and I am in love with it. Wrote about my feelings... :-)
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