Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jan 2018 Limbotheclown
Sjr1000
I taste death
in every food I eat
I see beauty
in every face I meet

It all once lived
before it died
One day maybe
nothing will need to die
for mankind to survive

I see beauty
in the face of every  person I meet

The public world
of shopping malls
Supermarkets
Working's pall

Inside while primitive
fantasies
still reside
Rageful tides
Spiderwebs blowing down hillsides

Carrying  on a private conversation
in a public gathering
"a little privy please"
There are no walls
in the outhouse
The outhouse is lined
with mirrors and windows

The rules are the rules
even for desire
tho sometimes we all do
a mashpit at the opera

Everything has a taste
Internal
External
make a mistake
it's back to the wild
Food for fodder
fodder for thought

Still seeing beauty
in every face I meet
Tasting death
in every food I eat

Makes water in
the desert
so so sweet.
Oh, smiley dream girl, you'll be my beloved
your mind will be filled
with my loving touches
and I will be enjoying your beauty
with my thirsty eyes
I will hide you with love in my heart!

I can't forget your first smiling face
how much weak was I on your eyes!
If you give me a little romance
then I will be melted into your heart!

My morning roses are just for your smile
I will give you the best of me
and fill your heart with happiness
tell me, when will you be my sweetheart?
BE
 Nov 2017 Limbotheclown
Allison
We were drinking coffee when
depression showed up at the door of the home we built, pounding.
Eviction notice in hand,
your soul parceled out into donation bins.
Foreclosure sign,
caution tape around the chest that I slept on for a year.

I sit out in the sun
to bleach the tan line from my ring finger.
I hold cold cups and shake strangers’ hands
to erase the mould of your grasp from mine.
I want to sear off my palms.

I miss even those nights when you looked at my fire and laughed.
So I make you coffee (but I know I make it wrong);
your ghost in this house still criticizes.

I made you coffee every day because it was all I could do;
my only way of getting into you, a vector.
As the hot brew flowed past your heart, I watched,
like a child at Christmas, hoping you’d feel my love.
Hoping the glaze would clear up from your eyes.

I only wish this were a bond that stayed,
that stayed when your mind put plugs in your ears:
when I screamed and screamed that I loved you,
that I’d rock every little thing you regret to sleep.

I went to the doctor about this dizziness.
He checked my ears, he asked why my eyes were red.
This vertigo--a hurricane made by the page turning in my life.
I am a bag in your wind.

The day you left I wrote you a recipe for how you like your coffee,
because you don’t know, but I have it memorized.
My handwriting changes halfway down the page, as I change,
as you drive farther and farther away.

Our love is a child I’ve carried,
now I’m bent over, sick.
Loss took your place in our home,
but it’s unsteady on its feet;
I have to walk it from room to room.

My name has been yours, possessive.
And although these days I correct myself and say ‘I’ during speech,
My thoughts are still ‘we.’
I still think about your lungs when I cough.

So I still make us coffee every day (but I know I make it wrong).
 Oct 2017 Limbotheclown
Elizabeth
A kiss just a kiss until you
   Find the one you love,
A hug is just a hug until
you find the one you're
   always thinking of.

A dream is just a dream
   Until it comes true,

Love was just a word until
   they day I met you.
The poet sees the line,
Before it’s been read.
It has already been written,
Somewhere in his head.
An idea that settles,
To shape and to mould.
Something reused,
That is no longer old.
Repeatable rhyme,
Or overworked verse.
Through low timbre tones,
Let critics converse.
Discounting so many,
Is judgement a whim?
Tell me dear poet,
When did you begin?
In answer unknowing,
Thought, though not sure.
This is not the first time,
I have written before.
On deeper reflection,
All ages, all minds.
There is no criteria,
All patterns, all kinds.
So why do I bother?
I have need to say more.
I think, so I am,
And I am, so therefore.
You have
              always
been that missing piece;
         that missing  piece of me
that mystery in my life
              the magic
                the fire
                  the delight  
                    the desire
only through your eyes
                  can I see myself
and a new way
                a new life of
                        beauty
                           stability
                             tranquility...
With you
            I know true love!
You are
          my one star in the dark of night
              my true beating heart delight
the truest beauty that holds my sight
       my Sun, my forever shining light.
The beauty in my life is all YOU!!!
How do you taste a woman?
Do you let your breath
Take over her skin
Or do you,
Gently
Uncover
Her treacherous,
Deceitful, delightful touch?

Do you take her sight for granted,
As if it was yours to own,
As if she would
Never vanish,
Or do you know
She's nothing more
Than a chimera on a wall,
Than Clotho's spinning thread
In an ancient story of forgiveness...

Do you trust her soft and humid body,
Like a silky cloth soaked in
Spicy peppermint oil,
Or do you fear
Her lips
As if they'll
Harm the pulse
Of your easily grown
Desire for all that she has enchanted?

Do you let her fingers linger
Somewhere in between
The locks of hair,
As they were
Her only to poses,
And make them come alive
Like serpents shadows on a desert's moonlight?

All in all, a woman cannot be
Taken for granted,
As she isn't there
Only because
You see her
Near.
No.
A woman is
A passing shadow
For your mesmerized vision.

A woman is that summer rain
On your heated body,
Or that devastating
Storm on a
Moroccan
Desert.
She is both
Dust and wind,
Love and hatred,
Hope and despair.
She is nothing more
Than clear, cold water.

So drink the woman
As you taste
Water
Turned
Into good wine
And tell me, stranger...
How do you taste a woman?
thank you for all your comments and likes. never thought that this poem would be so appreciated. thank you again and again.
Next page