Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
The Endeavors of Lips
by Michael R. Burch

How sweet the endeavors of lips—to speak
of the heights of those pleasures which left us weak
in love’s strangely lit beds, where the cold springs creak:
for there is no illusion like love ...

Grown childlike, we wish for those storied days,
for those bright sprays of flowers, those primrosed ways
that curled to the towers of Yesterdays
where She braided illusions of love ...

"O, let down your hair!"—we might call and call,
to the dark-slatted window, the moonlit wall ...
but our love is a shadow; we watch it crawl
like a spidery illusion. For love ...

was never as real as that first kiss seemed
when we read by the flashlight and dreamed.

Published by Romantics Quarterly and The Eclectic Muse (Canada). Keywords/Tags: Childhood, children, bed, bedtime, story, flashlight, kiss, goodnight, dreams, pleasures, lips, fantasy, illusion
Sillo Anderson Dec 2019
The many souls I've mated with
Has left a craving I long to chase
It's many pleasures has made me shallow
Pleading with faith to give me comfort.

And with little hope of hiding from efforts
My deeds make wild my bill of life
And to no avail have I question my despairs
While sins I commit in open fields.

My worth as a woman has decline
By presumptuous acts and desires  
But the shape of a future, fits perfectly within my dreams
And it's existence becomes profound in my eyes
Allowing I,
To want more of sins I shouldn't crave.
so many pleasures, yet this,
the chiefest!

it is the cellular sensation, a momentary
swiping the real stroking of gentle grazing,
the finger-tracing painting of another’s
softest places

this is what I will ever miss
this is what I will   eye  mist

when the eyes, arms and all the rest
age beyond, functioning justa at the “barely” test,
as long my forefinger, tho crooked and bent,
can draw lines upon the cheeks of my beloveds,
the lover sleeping beside, so relaxed, eyes closed,
the children, whose skins elasticity is living electricity,
even the warped, veined, roughened dying skin
of those yet glowing-gasping for the tactile worship,



I will desire to live
my first poem.
JS CARIE Sep 2019
Do you recall that moment we shared?

that became a scopic sweep to outspread coast

tattooing a pinnacle on the crest face of time...

Even before that,

when those pages turned
after placing a bookmark
in the “All Embracing”

when rapidly cascading rapids
in a vital rush
Where once,
no water ran
but now,
a waterfall endures to keep gushing

as you stood in the line for lost post
Rotating between guest and host
Tracking down this package
And yet to return next to my side you came
Pleasure delaying the unwrapping
Sliding into it’s contents
as promptitude ensued  

Immediately following
by this ones own hand,
the rising of your shirt
An advance to mount
lay parallel to your reclining position

Revealing this willing
More like pleading, how it sounded
In exchange for a soft euphoric injection
Evolving into sweat trading
All encompassed by
Engaged Ravaging
c Aug 2019
what intense feelings
we have for beauty
lust jealousy deceit
they all wange strongly
in the hearts of the weak
very few times does
the human brain
collect its thoughts
beyond the physical
and perhaps that is our
greatest folly.
To never truly love
beyond what our eyes can see
to never truly love
what our hearts
concede.
For if not intellect
what can sustain such an emotion
for physicality of plight
can only endure for so long.
And yet the remembrance of
youthful wit lasts
in our brains
much longer than a
fashioned glance ever could
remain in our hearts.
East Wind May 2019
....Fleeting pleasures hunt me to destroy the contentment I have built thus far.
.
Ruhani Jan 2019
There is Me
and there is Another Me.
Another Me is superior to Me
But it is Me,
Who wants Another me
to be superior to Me.
To feel highly
To achieve overtly
Look gracefully
Speak commanding
Be loved deeply
Head held high
In the runs of society
But Another Me
is pushing Me
To feel lowly of myself
Because Me is simply
Happy in even less than
Worldly.
Me cannot be Me
If trying to be Another Me
and Another Me won't leave Me
until she becomes supremely
Torn between these two
is only ME.
Euphie Jan 2019
Those little moans,
the thrusting of the hips,
the hush of the mouth,
the rosy cheeks,
that is all you need
when it comes to me.
Sillo Anderson Dec 2018
Praises for the simple pleasures, string from century old souls
Clothing imperfection stained by insanity
As colors loose worth, thread by thread.
But duets of fantasies know too well
The ordeals of happy dreams
Mounted in satisfaction on plain satire
As my humanity resides amongst the earth
And my presence fits close enough to the end

Gauntlet adds beauty to happiness
Leaving calm the worn out pastel past
And now hosieries,
Adds to the sceneries
Making profoundly displayed
The attire of life
Next page