#supine - Hello Poetry

Supine to the sky and the stars scream your name. I listen to your voice the way I like to hear it.

0

Oct 8, 2019

Oct 8, 2019 at 8:46 PM UTC

alaskajade

Euphoric Nights

Supine to the sky and the stars scream your name. I listen to your voice the way I like to hear it.

2

A supine woman On top of my sheets, let’s make Those ankles touch ears

0

Aug 3, 2018

Aug 3, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC

EvilShredder

***** Sheets

A supine woman On top of my sheets, let’s make Those ankles touch ears

3

To Save Strays Deserve Lagniappe Ruff lee, e'er since aye waz za lil whippersnapper watt wit dis awful temper, yet obedient to a pooch loving Aleut til present moment, Asian ole mangy coot this hot day (woof faux pas dipping into animal shelter donated water bowl) filled to the brim with smoothie fruit flavored slaking, moistening, cooling, sans lallygagging tongue doth wipe phlegmy ooze away, where nearby a kazoo playing labradoodle accompanies mum muttering prettifying self, via quasi preening snout when squeezed automatically issues ***** tonk sound imitating hoot, where passerine twittering fly night passersby toss bone fied token loot and a Norwegian bachelor farmer named Knute Rockne took immediate liking to yours truly, who when scratched itchy fur patches remained mute imparting unconditional love to petting man's best friend hoof right then and there Isaiah felt as top underdog momentarily distracted Fermi n Rico as petsmart necessary fix reduced to that as newshound ****** oft times in desperation shine shoes ala boot lix usually rewarded with bona fide prolix about such a docile mix breed to old for chase sticks to learn super champing cheap tricks.

0

May 29, 2018

May 29, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Reporters Who Risk Life And Limb...

To Save Strays Deserve Lagniappe Ruff lee, e'er since aye waz za lil whippersnapper watt wit dis awful temper, yet obedient to a pooch loving Aleut til present moment, Asian ole mangy coot this hot day (woof faux pas dipping into animal shelter donated water bowl) filled to the brim with smoothie fruit flavored slaking, moistening, cooling, sans lallygagging tongue doth wipe phlegmy ooze away, where nearby a kazoo playing labradoodle accompanies mum muttering prettifying self, via quasi preening snout when squeezed automatically issues ***** tonk sound imitating hoot, where passerine twittering fly night passersby toss bone fied token loot and a Norwegian bachelor farmer named Knute Rockne took immediate liking to yours truly, who when scratched itchy fur patches remained mute imparting unconditional love to petting man's best friend hoof right then and there Isaiah felt as top underdog momentarily distracted Fermi n Rico as petsmart necessary fix reduced to that as newshound ****** oft times in desperation shine shoes ala boot lix usually rewarded with bona fide prolix about such a docile mix breed to old for chase sticks to learn super champing cheap tricks.

43

Take me up. Let the devil take me up, like the morning when we left ourselves. The ides are upon our lives, maybe backstabbing partners really won't pay the bills. The irreverent god, the irrelevant clause that speaks too soon, comes upon the midnight waning sky. Like the moonful of ham in the stock of the flesh, second helpings because I could not resist. Pick me up. Pick me up. Like a devil born again in the flesh. Your womb is a rotten tomb of forced reclusion, I'm wide awake before I can even sleep. The Time, our heaven is pyre, we're in it now like you thought it had been. But the flesh never whispers when I tried to break it in, it only clung to me like pre-used clothing. Write it up, tomorrow we make Japan. Tomorrow, the island is our vesper. Your nine lives have come, and you'd decided to trade all of your needs to please me. We intertwined into an elusive butterfly, you're dead inside my beak, chewy, squishy, crunchy meat. You're eleven but you've never tasted better. Your lies are so stupid, I had to have you in supine. I had to lie to myself to placate me. I survived by being a witness to a life. A dusky, grayish shadow four feet yonder.

0

Mar 7, 2015

Mar 7, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC

martin-narrod

Jew Carcasss Lampshade

Take me up. Let the devil take me up, like the morning when we left ourselves. The ides are upon our lives, maybe backstabbing partners really won't pay the bills. The irreverent god, the irrelevant clause that speaks too soon, comes upon the midnight waning sky. Like the moonful of ham in the stock of the flesh, second helpings because I could not resist. Pick me up. Pick me up. Like a devil born again in the flesh. Your womb is a rotten tomb of forced reclusion, I'm wide awake before I can even sleep. The Time, our heaven is pyre, we're in it now like you thought it had been. But the flesh never whispers when I tried to break it in, it only clung to me like pre-used clothing. Write it up, tomorrow we make Japan. Tomorrow, the island is our vesper. Your nine lives have come, and you'd decided to trade all of your needs to please me. We intertwined into an elusive butterfly, you're dead inside my beak, chewy, squishy, crunchy meat. You're eleven but you've never tasted better. Your lies are so stupid, I had to have you in supine. I had to lie to myself to placate me. I survived by being a witness to a life. A dusky, grayish shadow four feet yonder.

4