#bust
She said open up
So I did for I trusted
But then she said shut up
Now I am busted
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 7:30 PM UTC
What Goes Around, Comes
by Michael R. Burch
This is a poem about loss
so why do you toss your dark hair—
unaccountably glowing?
How can you be sure of my heart
when it’s beyond my own knowing?
Or is it love’s pheromones you trust,
my eyes magnetized by your bust
and the mysterious alchemies of lust?
Now I am truly lost!
Keywords/Tags: love, lust, pheromones, chemistry, alchemy, alchemies, bust, ******* hair, attraction, eyes, stare, ogle
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 4:11 AM UTC
Fountainhead
by Michael R. Burch
I did not delight in love so much
as in a kiss like linnets’ wings,
the flutterings of a pulse so soft
the heart remembers, as it sings:
to bathe there was its transport, brushed
by marble lips, or porcelain,—
one liquid kiss, one cool outburst
from pale rosettes. What did it mean ...
to float awhirl on minute tides
within the compass of your eyes,
to feel your alabaster bust
grow cold within? Ecstatic sighs
seem hisses now; your eyes, serene,
reflect the sun’s pale tourmaline.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetica Victorian, PW Review, Nutty Stories (South Africa), Inspirational Stories, Poetry Life & Times
Keywords/Tags: Fountain, love, heart, pulse, bathe, kiss, sun, marble, bust, tides, sighs, eyes, sun, tourmaline
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 6:03 AM UTC
Knees shake
*** quakes
My nut like a loose cannon
The bust plentiful when it happens
The might of this nut
Destroys oncoming traffic
People running
From the
Nut-aggedon
Fin
Sean
2018
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
if I were a lady of hence
i'd dash into a field of centuries past
to faint a decades spell
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
Be honest!
I'm not a fool
I know all the things you said were just facades of truth.
Don't say "I just don't want to hurt you"
Because these white lies impale me everyday
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
Those like David McWilliams tried to make us see the light,
but our politicians were quick to tell us everything was all right
It’s grand they said; sure our economy is booming,
though now it appears they knew disaster was looming
It seems the easy credit and ridiculous property prices,
left the banks owing billions, facing a financial crisis
and one night our politicians agreed the bank guarantee,
borrowing billions from Europe, selling our sovereignty.
The billions owed by the banks were to be paid by you and me,
which meant we all faced years of austerity
The money disappeared almost as quickly as Fianna Fail,
we were at the mercy of the Troika, Angela Merkel and all.
We owed billions in the form of a promissory note,
with billions to be paid each year, by rote
The banks and the developers washed their hands of it all,
some even representing us now in the Dail!
Yes the banks and bond holders who were mostly to blame,
did not lose a penny, they knew how to play the game
But for us there’s no help, it’s an absolute shame,
and the politicians reasoning sounds completely lame
We had our politicians and the business world to thank,
but they laughed all the way to the nearest offshore bank
Swiftly followed by developers and entrepreneurs,
all this country got from them was a collective Up Yours!
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
I
The rain is pouring down,
There is just one umbrella, and
I choose to share it
With her.
The night is long, and
we don’t talk, but
I can see,
Through the corner of my eyes, that
She is uncomfortable and cold
By the violent brushing of the winds
that come too close but leave without kissing her left cheek.
A red omnibus passes us by,
Without stopping.
I hand her the umbrella,
And leave unarmed
Humming a familiar tune.
II
The rain is pouring down, and
He comes a step closer, to share
His umbrella with me.
The night is long, and
We don’t talk, but
I can feel his gaze penetrating my skin.
The violent brushing of the winds,
Makes me uncomfortable as
They come too close but leave without kissing my left cheek.
A red omnibus passes us by,
Without stopping.
He hands me the umbrella,
And leaves like the wind.
Humming a familiar tune.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
You will be greeted by me always with a conscience full of trust.
There will be me standing at the end of the dark tunnel holding a lantern full of rust.
You won't be disappointed with a meeting full of just lust.
This relation is more of a godly religion to me and as I think of it proudly puffed is my bust.
My devotion to my goddess is such that it will never be betrayed and never leave the must..
So mellow and so soft is our relation beneath its divine and strong crust...
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC