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Mrs Timetable Apr 20
I listen to your song everyday
Somedays the lyrics are lush
Some they are few
But your music always
Touches
We all have our go to
Kassan Jahmal Apr 16
Kisses don't last forever,
lipstick scars on my collared shirt;
sweet perfumes sinking into my neck.
Searching for a rush,
there's a rush out there looking for me.

Let me play my tongue on you;
just like I love to play with my words.

Lust of rush; my eye on a crush,
She's a crushing feeling; as when my cheek
bones hurt every time I blush. Plush; so richly
filled and lush. Could I love you as a must;
But a piece of you is far too much.

Do you...

Indulge in all of those senses;
As my sense of appeal is to be the one who
stole your heart. I'm much made of steel;
heavy weighed inside of my pants.
But why be quick in our advances; let's have
a little romance. Pick out our cards at every chance.
I'll play your King, with just few plays with my hands.

A squeeze; you feel the weakness on your knees,
each time I wrap around your neck.
And proceed into those long kisses that steal your
breath. Bite you down like an enemy; be tender
to all of those marks like a friend.

But I'd soon forget, of which of us gets naked
first; before pulling the covers of the bed.
I'm sitting on the edge; grinning at a striptease
doing in my head.

I can't pretend, that my skins aren't hair raising;
lips craving, body shaking, and I'm embracing
the embrace of me driving my destination inside
of your place.

But these are the thoughts on the road:
of what's about to come.

I'm still on the way.
Hidden Colour Jul 2021
Rejection, it is painful!

I lauch myself at the idea of hope,
I throw myself into the notion of happiness,
I jump head first into something that could be,

Each and every time all I recieve is REJECTION

The steady reminder that I am not wanted,
The sharp feeling of not being choosen,
The constant pain of being unworthy,

Unworthy of being loved, of being the person that is picked
Being someone that is seen as being desirable, wanting to jump head first with me into something that could be,

But rejection, the reminder that what could be is indeed nothing more than a mere fleeting feeling.
Mia Kuhnle Jan 2020
We are here in the presence of the clouds
with miles of hills at our feet
and cumulous showers looming around.
We are here because you wanted to get away
from the noise and the pain
but you cried today
and rocked under the moon.

The air syrupped with buckbean
I watch the circle of bees take their descent
Into the blue ridge.
You are the raindrops on this stone
on this vista of life
never perfect but with his rib bone,
making it evergreen and lush.

You rain down on the visitors of your cobble--
but we pause.
Your mist expands and swallows the garden
spitting its soft cares on our skin.
Harder and harder, you rain down.
You release, a delight to us and the mountain.
as we race down the hill.

From your belly I hear a laugh
and I want to tell you how beautiful
you are here.
So purely, over the rocks you flood.
My ankle twinges as I slip on my weight
But your showers heal and grow the elder buds.
Here, you are the rain.
rei Jun 2019
the lushness of the land
the ruggedness of the rocks
pictures can capture everyone's view of perfection.
but have you sat on a cheap beach chair,
with sand in your toes and curly hair,
across your sunburned face?
subtly smiling at the distant crash of waves,
or listening to the live music
that sounds like the band "summer salt?"

lava lava beach club
with cats wandering around the island
just as your heart wanders around the lovely memories
that you count one by one
to taste their delicious ideas
and finally, finally
feel.
A B Faniki May 2019
At forty-four years old you’re as graceful as a palm tree;
Grapes, with their lushness, have nothing on your lush body;
A thousand faces light up at the sight of your smile;
Roses for smell, apples for taste, and your touch
Brings warmth. The cosmic rays are dim and lifeless
But the colors in your eyes are bright and alive.
Your neck is like Trajan’s victory column, long,
Elegant and beautiful with the carvings around it
Mona Lisa is pleasing to the eyes, yet mine long
For the viral grace of your ***** and mature curves;
Diamonds with all their glory are not as tempting as you,
with your gray, enchanting hair and laughter lines.
My love is round and plump at four and forty
Years old, with ******* that refuse to sag with age.
This is a sonnet i wrote for all the beautiful women ageing gracefully.
neth jones Apr 2019
‘****** is Meat’;
The Victorious Say
as the Spoilings of War
are tilled over in a Latrine
Gore-Flowers shall overthrow
and the next Eden Project is fed :
a Beacon for The Lovers to uncover
....and disregard
    ungratfully fertile
Olivia Henkel Mar 2019
Organic matter dissipates to ash

saliva shrubs sacred branches softly sear

before they collectively crash

Dense haze escapes into the atmosphere



Smog blankets the saturated earth below

Macro level clearing ritual

Extinguish dismal flow

Desire to rid, but crude tendency is habitual



swoosh



Create space in the cloud banks

Burn that which must disintegrate

Rise & fall, cycles continue, give thanks

Awe invoking beauty, to make the eyes dilate
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 50

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Wisely allow my gentle soul to flow,
Like a flowy river in the lush forest,
Peacefully allow to flow until;
It fulfils his divine destiny!

It may flow gently through,
Several terrible curves or It may;
Subtly shift several desired directions.

Some day roughs, sometime smooth,
Peacefully allow him to flow until;
It fulfils his divine destiny!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
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