#ravenous
my mind is a ravenous fire
fuelled with gluttonous desire
feed it something every hour
only rest when it digests
but it rises like the tides towards the sun
my mind is a ambitious one
May 23, 2023
May 23, 2023 at 9:58 PM UTC
i awake from dreams about not eating certain things
and eating certain other things ....i wake
i dream sub-marine
submariner flossed at sea
dreaming
i lost the race
astronaut untraceable
spaced
pacing out a heartbeat
obscene dreams
by the plunderful
engorging
plentiful
digging like a thirst
carving out a craving
digging like a dog
ever unquenchable
Jul 24, 2022
Jul 24, 2022 at 9:29 PM UTC
There is a violent madness that hides inside all of us,
some oppress the chaos, others live in denial
Once in a blood moon, hidden in a dark room,
vibrations of bedlam, a paracosm of two
For the world that we see through a hidden marquee,
a putrid stream for the mentally ill
Yet with no hesitation, a dark star pulsating,
you plunge into the void, then pull me through
Fret not, for each thought gives birth to brilliance
as we stir the cauldron of the sacred brew
Blood and water, son and daughter,
resilient to the universe we devour and consume
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:00 AM UTC
You took the beasts among us,
and made them gods.
Hungry,
ravenous gods.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 10:33 PM UTC
I thought after
all these years of
being bitten and scratching sores,
I'd eventually grow a thick enough skin
to keep out the mosquitos.
I was wrong.
Even so, mosquitos are nothing compared
to the itch I've got for you.
You see, mosquito bites are only skin deep,
but I've got this ravenous hunger for you,
gnawing at my bones.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:56 PM UTC
Everyone will eventually
fall
victim to some
addiction, and
I want to be the
ravenous hunger
in you
bones.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC
So little so much
Brief brush of fingers
That soft touch
Heat that lingers
“Mine” she could swear she heard
Her heart for a moment stands still
With that whispered word
A devilishly divine thrill
Hint of Everything
In a gentle brush
Makes her soul sing
Blood starts to rush
Thoughts, want, and need, a ravenous desire
Taking Form
Capricious Fire
Fanciful Storm
Growing tempest of lust
A she devil of need
Feed soon she must
Dances in her eyes, take heed
Growing lustful state
Hunger and thirst, in wicked measure
She wants to sate
With pain and pleasure
~Wes Noneya
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC
~Christi Michaels~May 2015~
I sense the wind
across my skin
goose bumps rise
to your touch
calloused hands
fingers know just
how firm to grasp
the light rain
Knowin' of a
storm a'blowin
Your lips settle
on mine
wet~slick
firm and yielding till soft
We are nestled in these
suspended moments
between precipitation and
an all out squall
Your fullness climbs into me
finding my breath
I inhale the quiet before...
exhale, inhaling the Fresh of You
as this storm unfolds
pounding down seedlings of spring
rinsing all things clean
I am awash with you
unbridled passion having
survived a prolonged
season of thirst and drought
☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
He woke up from a dream today,
To gaze sight at the break of dawn,
A part of his life gone for the day,
As the morning dew drops on the lawn
Precious memories mingled with emotions,
As the night before played in his mind,
A beauty that needs full devotion,
The red tulip blooms for his kind
Tears fill his dazed eyes,
A thought lingers for that touch,
This heart twisted with cries,
His mortal love for a soul he has not seen much
The dark clouds sweep in gracefully,
Announcing the fall of the mighty rain,
This soul sits in the corner of despair,
Afraid of that grey world of calamity
The windowpane becomes blurry,
And so do his visions of her fade away,
In the cold midnight chill,
Leaving the darkness to prevail
He kneels down by his bed,
Gazing up at the darkened skies,
The moon shining bright,
And the stars twinkling brighter
He prays to the nightfall,
As his ravenous beauty dances with the stars,
Her shadow among the clouds,
An apparition hidden among the darkness,
This dark forlorn love,
As the sands of time change,
He remains there still,
An embodiment of his sacred feeling,
Worshiping her, day and night.
Vijaya Balan (2008)
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
I hated cigarettes
With a childhood filled with suffocating smoke
My anticipation for them was unlikely
But every **** smoke you had sitting next to me
You fed me your words and stories
A breathtaking cascade of scattered phrases and ideas and dreams
I was all so ravenous to hear
Your smoke swirled, not suffocated
I'd watch it snake throughout the air
As it pushed your memories of people and places to come to life in my mind
Every wisp of smoke pulled me closer to you
Smokes killed
But darling your words gave me more life than anything
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
I'm ravenous.
Famished.
Starving for your touch
your sugar-sweet kisses
your velvet-smooth embraces
Empty of affection
Feed me your love
Fill me up
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
Black Rook In Rainy Weather
On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain.
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident
To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall as they fall,
Without ceremony, or portent.
Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent
Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent
By bestowing largesse, honor,
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical,
Yet politic; ignorant
Of whatever angel may choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant
A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck,
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content
Of sorts. Miracles occur,
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,
For that rare, random descent.
The Response
Even while flashbulbs go out, every now and then, we all must gather our arms and legs in a heap of human kindling, to rap tap tap on the downstairs neighbors door- for a set of candles, perhaps a chance to go completely insane for one terse moment when the hyperbole of vowels just don't matter anymore.
And speaking of the sordid state of griseous gull-like creatures. Ravenous ravens gnawing outside the window of the kitchen table. How boring life can become, for at the moment, when we are not biting our nails, playing dress up, or playing doctor- all tied up. Or maybe even burying our heads in the looks of rooks or with our noses brimming over with the tops of books.
The tea we have set in the study awaits us, as we all have to drink our tea some time.
Just don't leave the lights on baby. Who needs lamps at full lux at high noon any who? You, Mrs. Sylvia Plath Hughes? Maybe you ought to buy a book of stamps- at the nearest Hobby Lobby, pack a paper bag with an apple and a 'sammich', and list formally your complaints.
We can't all waste our time narrating other people's lives in the third person.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC