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2.5k · Jun 2016
The Joy of Gay Sex.
I yearn for the smell of your bare skin,
Salted sweat drips forth from mocha pores,
Touching silk of no other than human,
That feel makes the soul fly and soar.

His strength envelops my very being,
A man with power in formed structure,
He bids me to fall at his own will,
A look to feel its way and puncture.

Warm bodies clasped together in lust,
Kisses electric on lips of pure wetness,
Face to face of no apparent battle,
Not forcing but dealt of our kindness.

Entered minds and men abound forever,
I moan in hands that lay on solid pecks,
Sensual learning is always with practise,
The heavenly traits of ****** *******.
A look at the natural ****** figure in motion!
2.4k · Jun 2016
The Nigger Word.
A blast of hatred of acid tongues,

A needless phrase to scold the tall,

A forgotten hero they never mention,

Take a look at the one called Robert Smalls.




A swipe by fist of foul means,

A dangerous concoction of sparks,

A cowards language of sorts,

Take a look at the one called Rosa Parks.




A definition of weakness in ruling,

A slap in the face of the now free,

A collapsed cult now gone forever,,

Take a look at the one called Isabella Baumfree.




A word is a word to fight and hurt,

A sentence pinned together from fools,

A paragraph of silence descends upon you,

The N word no longer a relevant tool.
A look at history and the modern day!
1.8k · Jun 2016
Corset.
A pair of stays to bind in fashion,

Stiff bodice lift those ample *******,

French sophistication and ***** south,

Linen lines taken from the robin's nests.




Once seen in times known to all Baroque,

Steel cages more true to the name,

Renaissance blushed at the very sight,

This hidden and blustering shame.




Georgian era was always that late,

Yet women united to sheer the skin,

Frills and cuffs were the new bloom,

The dowdy apron given to the bin.




Victorian, Edwardian seen a rise of empire,

When romance boasts the whale bone done,

Now scattered in all weddings and burlesque,

Dear Corset is set in memory to run and run.
a look at the binds of fashion
1.1k · Jul 2016
Corset!
A pair of stays to bind in fashion,

Stiff bodice lift those ample *******,

French sophistication and ***** south,

Linen lines taken from the robin's nests.




Once seen in times known to all Baroque,

Steel cages more true to the name,

Renaissance blushed at the very sight,

This hidden and blustering shame.




Georgian era was always that late,

Yet women united to sheer the skin,

Frills and cuffs were the new bloom,

The dowdy apron given to the bin.




Victorian, Edwardian seen a rise of empire,

When romance boasts the whale bone done,

Now scattered in all weddings and burlesque,

Dear Corset is set in memory to run and run.
Just my take on women's fashion through the ages, well one small part of it anyway - have fun!
944 · Jun 2016
The Color of Murder.
Spines that shiver in minds of old,

Gasping spinsters times have told,

Of little men the color of green,

Hidden by walls not to be seen,

Harvest the blood they call to me,

Take the drops of red is the fee,

Cast the amber sun to stop fast,

Murky waters a grave in the past,

Ignorant fellows lay down in cotton,

Thoughts hollow black and all rotten,

Death the gift that comes willing and able,

Remember dear ones this is no fable.
805 · Jul 2016
Society's Whore.
Blisters dance across ones skin in delight,

Heavy limbs lay flat on cold concrete,

Open wounds seep pus and fear in equal measure,

Scratch's bind broken nails in mere defeat.




Failed meetings never cease to amaze the victim,

*** a horrid tool of power and dominance with men,

Tremble and excite those locked doors in your mind,

Pleasant does not seem to sooth or excite the pen.




No strengths can help you or divide the thoughts,

Taken innocence is not the issue, taken time is,

The win in that moment they certainly do,

****** however is revenge and sweet in hands that wiz.




Fallen pillars of the community exposed to all,

Make no mistake they beat and cut us to out core,

As they lay sunken in coffins lined with led,

Tell yourself this, your no longer society's *****.
Honesty is key.
781 · Jun 2016
Orlando
Ordinary people living ordinary life's being complete and happy,




Raging fear builds to anger in ignorant men by will of silent kisses,




Landing reason on anything related to news headlines and horrid religion,




Apple cells send out last messages to those helpless and without power,




Navigate your hand to pistols and pull the trigger, the coward among men,




Death lays at our feet now, not you, but us all in hugging hands,




Ordinary people living ordinary life's being complete and happy?
My thoughts and prayers are with you all.
A tiny and mere space of nothing in-between,
No smiles or tears to capture in one’s heart,
Lifeless emotion to stare on aimlessly,
Graves are open to fill in, in part.

Blank eyes have souls of no matter,
Tea stains in perfect hollow rings,
Thoughts come and go with furious wind,
Take attention of nothing he sings.

Fingers punching at plastic and horror,
Read on dear people no love of pans,
Lapping on ***** to feel something, anything,
Speed in lines in ***** in acid coloured cans.

Brace yourself Time my ***** master,
I’m running to you now without jittery retention,
Catch my waist as wings give promise in attendance,
Pain gone or exhausted floccinaucinihilipilification.
A note on the English language.
716 · Jun 2016
Spilt Milk.
Those digits that touched against yours now adorn,
sweet gold I've longed for since times of fun,
A time I lay dead with overpowering tasks,
of work and life alone you yielded to run.


Brushing hairs left soft in moisture and skin,
bleeding souls quake through times and states,
A smile that lights a stirring heart to fair,
leading those broken to a heavens locked gates.


Piece by piece and kiss by kiss you take,
a child and turn him to man no longer alone,
For he needs nothing but your hand in his,
you seated him against odds and ends throne.


Feel free to mock those happier than you,
a past screams that I join your bitter ilk,
A kin to state the present and never to us,
no point in crying over a little spilt milk.
A look at those that live
710 · Jun 2016
Beautiful Brutality
Born to sour temperament and political policy,

Weakness gleamed in tremor's slight,

To pale to be of Grecian ilk,

Thank Gods no country side in sight.




Now seven years the barracks beckons,

My Mother's pride sent to the stake,

Twenty three years for the pain in me,

No time for us soldiers to be fake.




Wonders of becoming that horrid equal,

A wife to take but no house to live,

Those whips a dear and cutting friend,

No muscle ever the chance to give.




Now thirty years we slot in perfectly,

So time again now doubled in blue robe,

Strong through beatings beautiful brutality,

We never Athenian but of Spartan abode.
555 · Jun 2016
Little Minds, Little Times.
As rain sheets the tiled homes of those housed in,

Time punctures essence in kind for broken men,

Stable types ever walking the barred walls alone,

Frightened eyes shake as if to hide from the pen.




Robes and hammers rule the day at sentence start,

Fallen angels stand tall as war imprisoned all,

Not legal jousts or rotten speeches pouring forth,

Little minds, little times and little words will fall.




Scratch's take on meanings of calendars forth,

One month, two year, each decade decay in nests,

No humour can ever puncuate this hellish playground,

The state after all foots with money no kinds rests.




Slack hands make new wifes out of slender men,

Fear leaves one hollow and you make space for us,

Practice heaves a heavy burden for warden now home,

A crested ***** awaits those without shield or fuss.
A look at those imprisoned!

— The End —