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It was dry
Hot and humid
Dusty and nasty

Then
It rained
Cool and wet
Soothing and cozy.
thesa 4d
i never learnt how to swim
yet here i am
with my head under water
and my clothes soaking wet

hoping
that the sea is more honest
with those who are willing to drown
Di Verce Sep 26
The seedy ****** here were ungrateful, hateful
With my giving loving rainbow drops

Now I know the **** huminz need mustard seed facefulls
To plug their noisy orifices up

Good thing I'm not into sinus ****
At least, not yet

Do better, stupid humins
Or you'll come to know the taste of de luge
Sapiens create the trash, I merely describe it honestly in hopes they'll stop being hapless saps and clean it up.
Annie Aug 17
Daydreaming of quality time, alone.
Diving into bush pools and rivers,
sun-soaked,
wet rocks under-***,
hair slick down back,
drip on shoulders;
stronger now there’s nothing
holding me down.

Down I dive,
further- deep into peace.
I’ll eat air and drink my own laughter in gulps until I’m drunk
and fall off my rock
right back in the water-fallen ripples
again.

Let the tui talk and the fantails walk
behind me,
as I make my own naked trail
through fairy-forest vines,
over moss-mounds and thick roots.

With no cars, I can climb,
every tree is my castle,
every branch a limb
to protect me.

I’ll barefoot tumble down a Pinetree *****,
carve my poems into soft-bark trunks,
let the wind fuel my fire.
Poetic T Aug 15
After I ate,

You...

     I asked for a napkin...


You slapped me!!


      At least I finished my meal.
The rain resembles the pitter-patter of your words.
Each droplet— a syllable.
The chill— your breath.

I trace the streams of water the same way I would run my fingers down your skin.
I breathe in the scent wafting off the soil
and my insides warm.
The grey sky calming, yet electric, as your gaze.
The drumming on the rooftop whispers me to sleep, gently as I allow my mouth to form around the precipice of your name.
I can almost taste you.

I'm flooded with my longing to bury myself in you.

Drown me in your storm.
Drench me with your words
.
Jon Thenes Jul 21
Don’t let the medium dry
Moisten This Creation                                   
by ANY MEANS necessary

It’s vulnerable

For This Creation to become pedestal WE MUST :

feed it
off of a capillary bag

mist it
under a dense healthy breath

lead it
to suckle an engorged breast

For
IF WE DO NOT
we risk it becoming husk ;
good only for digs and dust shops.

For This Creation, WE MUST queue

with our blood tapped
and ready

our breeding fluids
our various flows carefully labelled
and in sterile pouches

our donor cards filled out
steady for sacrifice

Keep This Creation wet
and it shall be a beacon
a call to awareness
a beckon of craft for us all
and not some common art-hole
In time THE CREATION SHALL SERVE US
Arts’ Monster
It’s vulnerable
(a toothed Whale out of water
  awaiting a machine strong enough
  to return it to the ocean)
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