Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Man 2d
She said,
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I asked,
"What is it?"
She replied,
"I can't exactly remember."
I questioned,
"How will you know you've found it?"
She said,
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I asked further,
"Well, who is it?"
She said,
"I don't really know,
But I think I've seen them before.
There's an image in my head
And an idea in my mind,
They feel innate to me."
"Are they, though?"
She didn't answer,
"I think if I just do
As my parents have done
And their parents have done,
I'll be all the closer."
I just shook my head and laughed.
"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you.
I just find it funny.
You say you're searching
For something or someone,
And you only have the slightest idea
Of what that is."
"I know, it's a bit silly."
"Why, they could be
Talking to you right now
And you would never know it then!"
"Maybe, maybe not.
I'd like to think
I would recognize it, recognize them."
"Well, you don't think
You're special do you?"
"No more so than anyone else."
"So, how would you know?"
"I guess I just believe,
I have faith in that
Hope shall deliver me.
I try my hardest
To be the best I can be,
I always try to be honest
And act respectfully.
I love with all my heart
And shelter it from nobody."

"Ah, but do you reach?
Do you search your mind
As much as the tangible world?
Perhaps what you're looking for
Can't be found
Without exploring within first.
Perhaps this is the only place
It exists.
Maybe it is a mystery
Confused with fantasy,
Maybe it is a fantasy
Confused with mystery.
Perhaps it can
Only be discovered
By any one individual.
Maybe by elusion,
Made by illusion.
Perhaps it is,
Perhaps it isn't,
Maybe you're just not worthy.
Perhaps you've already eclipsed it."
I had said.
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I said.

"What is it?"
She said.
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I said.
"Yes, but who remembers?
And what memories?"
She said.
"It's something that can't be held,
But something one must hold.
It's something that can't be told,
But something one must tell.
It's like the melody of a song,
Like the lyrics sung.
It is only as old
As it is young."
I said.
"What is it?"
She said.

"What is it?"
showyoulove Dec 15
We live in a place somewhere between two worlds
One the physical and one the spiritual
They are separate and distinct
But they can coexist, they can be linked
To be practical and active
And still live contemplative
Living with one foot in the sea and the other on dry land
We fight to maintain equilibrium and meet every demand
So how do we reconcile one with the other?
Is it even possible to do so?
Maybe we don't have to, maybe it's already been done
For a baby born of a ******: God's own precious son
Jesus was of two worlds, and he bridged that divide
Became bread and wine so he could live inside
Let all you do be a prayer, and all your work give him glory
All you say be with love, and all your life lived with joy
This is how we can live in two worlds
showyoulove Dec 15
Today I have progress on my mind
Of a physical and spiritual nature and kind.
Taking steps to improve my health
Where I am ow is better than where I was.
From day to day or even week to week
I don't notice the progress that I seek.
But when I step back and reassess
It is then that I'm aware of the progress
I'm farther than I was before
But still not where I want to be
Even so, I'm closer and it gives me a thrill
Because I can get there, I know that I will
There are good times and bad times
Sometimes I move forward, sometimes back
But I refocus, recenter, and get back on track
Losing weight, getting stronger
It takes practice, patience, and time
It's tough, but it's always worth the climb
It seems to me that our spiritual life
In many ways runs parallel
To the ways that make us physically well
In our prayers and in our giving
How we're loving, how we're living
Sometimes our faith builds slow
And, sometimes, it quite quickly grows
It's hard to see in the desert place
Where the wind blows hard against your face
The path ahead is very nearly lost
No idea how much distance you've crossed
But the winds die down and the skies clear
Breathe in deep as you are standing here
And through the trials you see
Just how far you've come
And how you came to where you are
You've done so well and worked so hard
Now have some rest and keep making progress
Lizzie Bevis Dec 9
The bonding forge of palm on palm
Breaks my shield, dissolves my calm;
Your hands trace earthquakes down my spine,
Awakening every nerve of mine.

You ignite my skin with a lightning flash,
Electric tremors pulse and pass,
Each fingertip becomes a molten brand
That sears desire across my land.

When lips meet, our worlds collapse
Passion fractures these synaptic maps;
Your embrace, a crushing tidal force,
Leaves my gravity without a course.

Magnetic fever pulls us close,
As currents crush and silence prose.
Each brush of skin sends shockwaves deep,
Where primal energy coils and leaps.

Heated fusion erodes the mantle,
Boundaries burn and souls entangle,
Your touch conquers my universe
Intent with the need to be immersed.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Boris Cho Nov 10
There was a time when I believed that intimacy was something instinctual, a force that either existed between two people or didn’t. But over time, I came to understand that intimacy is not simply a given; it is something that must be nurtured through honest and vulnerable conversations, each revealing the heart of what we need, fear, and desire.

I learned that the foundation of connection lies in acknowledging my deepest longings; those desires that go beyond physicality. It required me to unravel the layers of what I want, to express the complexities of attraction, and to embrace the discomfort of speaking my truth. Only by facing these unspoken needs could I truly invite another into the depth of my intimacy.

I also had to confront the tension between pleasure and discomfort. There’s an art in balancing these two forces, in recognizing that not every touch, every moment, will be perfect. It became clear to me that boundaries are essential, that knowing when to say ‘yes’ and when to say ‘no’ is as much a part of intimacy as the act of coming together. The body speaks in these moments, revealing both joy and hesitation, and I had to learn to listen.

Trust, I realized, is the heartbeat of connection. It is not enough to want intimacy; it must be built on a foundation where vulnerability can flourish. This is a trust that goes beyond words; it requires action, consistency, and the courage to be fully seen. In moments of doubt, I had to open myself further, revealing my flaws and insecurities, knowing that trust isn’t something to be passively given, but actively cultivated.

And then there’s the rhythm of how we communicate; the delicate balance of speaking and listening. I found that the most profound conversations are often those that leave space for silence, for reflection. Patience became my ally, as I learned that empathy in communication creates a shared experience, one that allows both of us to feel understood without the need for constant resolution.

But perhaps the most transformative realization was understanding that intimacy is not static. It evolves, just as we do. My body, my desires, and the way I seek connection have changed over time, and I’ve come to accept this as part of the journey. Rather than clinging to past versions of ourselves, I found a certain grace in adapting, in continually exploring new ways to nurture both trust and pleasure.

In the end, these realizations became more than lessons. They became a practice; an ongoing commitment to creating space for intimacy that is as rich emotionally as it is physically. It’s a space where love deepens, where empathy and passion intertwine, and where both partners are given the freedom to grow alongside each other.



It’s in the breath between words,
A place where we meet,
Beyond the edge of touch,
Where skin is not a barrier, but a bridge.

It’s in the slow unraveling of the heart,
Our truest selves,
Waiting to be seen,
waiting to be held.

Intimacy is the courage to stay,
Where bodies bend,
Not just for the warmth of another,
But for the release of what we carry alone.

The eyes that undress what words cannot,
The trust that grows
Not from promises spoken,
But from the weight of presence of being whole.

Where love is not just felt,
But understood
In the way we share our breath,
Our silence,
Our fears,
And our fire.

— Sincerely, Boris
Atlas Nov 5
Physical touch pleases me
Not in that way
But in a way that gives comfort to wanna flyaway
Like ballerinas dancing across my skin
I don’t know why but this is the way I’ve been
Your the warmth I crave
I only want to hold you
But it’d be a lie if you wanted too

Hold my cold hand
Run your hands through my hair
Hold me close to the point where you might come to care

But I’m pretty sure you’re well aware
That I’m desperate
I crave physical touch
I’m not asking much
So I hope I can feel your warm touch
Jia En Oct 21
Some of you
Don’t know how much you mean to
Me–
I just can’t see
A way
To say
“Just standing next to you makes my day”
Or perhaps “That made me feel so
Much better” because I know
It would just feel weird.
For how long has our society feared
Expressions
Of affection?
Too much obviously feels wrong
But when you’ve been here for so long,
I don’t know how to not overdo
My gratitude towards you.
contrary to the poem i just posted
Àŧùl May 2020
You shine on my horizon,
Like a nascent rainbow,
After the shower of invisible tears.

To your wrist, I want to hold on,
May I never see you go,
Now that my love towers.

Mares & studs run amok,
In my mind, they so do,
And they sprint around in circles.

Enthused by the falling droplets,
Even peacocks dance,
In my mind, I am all smiles.

The beautiful aura of yours,
I see it with inner eyes,
That of a Đévī it closely resembles.

In your eyes, I see a infantile glint,
Not many get it, darling,
You are my first baby girl.

All the beauty in my world,
Now shines 'cause of you, and
I try to summate it in written word.
My HP Poem #1851
©Atul Kaushal
Ruheen Aug 11
I like the physical
Feeling
of vertigo
and dizziness
reeling
back
from blurry
ceilings
and voices
I can't
keep
around me
revealing
lines on
my wrists
with excuses
I can't sleep
I like the physical
feeling
of blood
on my skin
reeling
back
with pleasure
and sin
revelling
in the
metallic
taste
the peeling
back of
layers
with haste
The physical
feeling
of pain
that is
leaving
is beyond
those who
want to
keep
living
Jeremy Betts Aug 11
I'm reminded I'm standing in the middle of my bull $hit
By a credible doomsday profit
Felt like a kidney punch followed by a di¢k kick
A devastating hit
Not a knockout blow but still significant
Physical and mental damage present
Pray it's not permanent
Contemplating what it'd mean if I quit
Then the bell saved me ultimately,
Sending me to my corner to sit
Maybe I just need to cool down a bit...

®2024
Next page