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Poetic T Apr 2018
We are all bound
       by the stings of fate,
       interlaced between actions.

Each one tying us
      to another's knot.
Interlaced within times connection,

We can pull upon every
        lace, but in the end
        we all connect to another.
Poetic T Mar 2018
Showing him the  
            up and over
             maneuver.

He tries, succeeding.
            I'm a big boy,
                      smiling.
a mini
oddity here
that dies
again how
hers snap
vertically when
I doubt
she's there
but snarly
any lovely
tout she's
owned her
major virtual
clout if
snarly has
yet her
sass cute
Äŧül Oct 2017
This love,
This love I feel for You...
I feel,
And I feel it's so new...

Beyond the rising sun,
I see the endless space...
I see you smiling there,
Behind that veil of lace...

This feeling,
This feeling that I get...
I know,
And I know it's so true...
My HP Poem #1671
©Atul Kaushal
R K Hodge Aug 2017
Violet fire crinkling the golden skinned surface
Lip gloss slumbered upon your open mouth
Pinked and pinned
Pinned and pink
Lace softened into the edges
Bridging skinny emotions
Plasticised eyelashes shape organic eyes
Breathless ripples evacuate
Cindy Long Jul 2017
Shes more than just a pretty face. Shes a hurricane. Demin and lace spun around like wind and rain. A princess that has long since lost her crown- its probably at the bottom of the pacific by now; stitched together with good intentions, lightning, and leather. Held to the ground by a chest harness, gagged with cotton, and her heart made to beat to the rhythm of thunder. Voice like the pounding of the sea against bluffs; breaking down barricades with one subtle stroke. Uprooting trees like she does her long blonde curls and nothing can calm her chaos-not cuffs or rope, not diamonds or pearls. Shes just a little harder to handle then most. Oceans plunder through the floodgates of her eyes at any given moment; parading through the coast, tumbling around with all the broken and bruised cement.
Shes all the abandoned throwns left to drown or freeze without power, warmth or shelter. The promise to do better and be better next time coaxing her further into the fray by her collar and leash but its always the same unpredicted weather. Shes both beauty and the beast- complete opposites chained together by her ankles and wrists. Poetry pouring from her luscious lips in a heavy mist; a coldfront may stall her out but shes still quick to spit with the flick of a whip. Shes deeper than she appears but her foundations crumble under the rubble of her own ivory skin. Broken coral stumbling through the empty halls of her soul-it takes it tole. Shes the act of god, something so vivid and yet so insane could only be brought on by the abundance of sin. A divine cause lost in plush-sweet and also ******; a unity of odd mixtures: vinegar and sugar. Cloudcover hiding the blisfulness of the sun and she cant help but blush. Shes altogether too much and all she leaves behind is death and decay-she destroys everything in her path But its not her fault; she got broken too while sitting in the lap of a tormado; wrapped her up, held her tight, then let her go.Any attempt to get back inside only left her trapped in scar tissue, She went crazy when he called her baby so its no wonder nothing survived. She may leave you with a mild breeze and a sky of orange and pink.She'll send seashells spiraling into you until you become debris..make you wonder what its like to live without the kink.
Unedited raw poem.
aryanalynae Jul 2017
someone notice
i'm wearing this little black dress.
want someone to see my lace set.
need eyes not a compliment.
  
someone feel this.
lets slow dance
grind my hips.
pretend that its pleasant.

grab these thighs
get aggressive with soft hands and slow grinds.
make me feel that first time
'i'm high' sigh tonight.

someone notice
i put on this little black dress.
anastasiad Jun 2017
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Jenny Gordon Jun 2017
I could swear the way the men clustered around me after meeting they thought this below was a mere pretty fantasy....and perhaps you alone know differently, Adrian.

(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCIII)


Lo, how I hear the Beatles' cherished scale
Of "Yesterday--" 'non waltzing, like the sense
We know by instinct, though by Shakespeare thence
I thought to ink--what? cycling through the tale
Of prairie grasses blackbirds' rakish hail
Mocks?  Or those blue skies cloud fluffs whitely fence
In lazy, um, battalions?  Or from hence
As Will said, how I feel, likeas t'avail?
When you say "lacy," to ask me if your
Prompt, erm, hit home?  And how I long to do--
Not home-made popsicles, nor when in tour
I lost my first tooth blowing up that new
Um, kiddie pool--but you know.  Is it poor?
Cuz summer's so short-lived, but I love you.

05Jun17b
Yo.  Her prompt for our June Writer's Workshop meeting was "summer" via memories, perspectives, and of course, passion.  This was my entry.
Journey of Days Jun 2017
marked out
scars are deep
granulated
raised
hate designed this pattern of lace
body compensates for punches and kicks
pinned to soft pillows held with steel
bobbins twist and cross intricate designs
capturing events in delicate knots
infinite combinations
belying pain, tales, drama
to create a work of beauty
in silk and blood
triumph
you did not win
victory was mine
I wear the lace mantilla


@journeyofdays
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