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"abdominals" poems
I lose myself in your orbitals whenever they focus on me. I want to bury my cephalic in the crevice of your cervical. I long to keep your brachials around my dorsum. You have amazing scapulars. Thoracic to thoracic. Or our palmars intertwined. Digitals tracing patterns on each other's abdominals. Press your oral to my buccal and we'll see how this goes.
0
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
anatomical terms
Rest easy, read these heavy words of slumber, tap your chest to the beat of your heart, empty out breath even from the deepest parts the void, will fill itself, with sleep, I hope for your sake. Scrunch those toes to close, then let them relax and let go, Half close those toes and let them loose, shake them once and again, Tense those calves, feet pointed at the ceiling, if you are willing, Go half way and shake the tension away, from you, Quads and hamstrings, next remember in pretext, full and halfway, shake the tension away,, gluteus maximus then abdominals and lower back and in their turn chest, those pecs to reflex and relax latissimus dorsi, my oh my you got your back shoulders, hands of fingers, just like the toes, pretty soon you might doze, forearms, biceps and triceps too, neck and face shrug and scrunch, you don't have the answer, so pucker your face, eyes are the last close them once, eyes are the last close them half, eyes are the last, I hope you never read this far, unless you are awake, after a night of rest fullness, so if it does not work, know this, I will sit by your side so you can unwind, I have a good year for listening, on pillow soft words, for you to put your sleepy heavy head. Good...night...yawn
0
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I am not an insomniac, I take that back, You are not an Insomniac
i don't want to flatten you out put you on a frame in the hall of fame where people would go just to gawk and stare at you that would be so cruel of me, because you- you are so much more complex than that you are the foundation of a house something everyone takes for granted because they cant see it how many times have you slipped out unnoticed by those looking for the shiniest, brightest stars in the world if you look for those you miss the planets you miss the way that you sleep with a shirt over your head to "block out the light" so you can sleep better you miss the ridiculous, pleasurable conversations "did you know that Louie Armstrong would cut off the callouses on his lips with a pocket knife?" "we should write a comic strip about a starch that smokes **** and call it "The Baked Potato."' let's keep away from the photographers, the paparazzi, the artists, the writers you hate attention anyway said you would rather "sleep on the roof for a week" than give a presentation in public i have discovered you but i won't ever tell the books will not mention you there will be no statues of us but the ones we build with sugar cubes on the privacy of our own kitchen table where messes like us can be swept away and kept in no other place than our memories and the storage on my phone i will memorize the lines on your torso and back but children will never study you in geography, they will never be asked the year you were born or at what latitude and longitude your chest muscles meet your abdominals a search on Google will pull nothing about you you remain undiscovered to all but me.
0
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC
5.
i don't want to flatten you out put you on a frame in the hall of fame where people would go just to gawk and stare at you that would be so cruel of me, because you- you are so much more complex than that you are the foundation of a house something everyone takes for granted because they cant see it how many times have you slipped out unnoticed by those looking for the shiniest, brightest stars in the world if you look for those you miss the planets you miss the way that you sleep with a shirt over your head to "block out the light" so you can sleep better you miss the ridiculous, pleasurable conversations "did you know that Louie Armstrong would cut off the callouses on his lips with a pocket knife?" "we should write a comic strip about a starch that smokes **** and call it "The Baked Potato."' let's keep away from the photographers, the paparazzi, the artists, the writers you hate attention anyway said you would rather "sleep on the roof for a week" than give a presentation in public i have discovered you but i won't ever tell the books will not mention you there will be no statues of us but the ones we build with sugar cubes on the privacy of our own kitchen table where messes like us can be swept away and kept in no other place than our memories and the storage on my phone i will memorize the lines on your torso and back but children will never study you in geography, they will never be asked the year you were born or at what latitude and longitude your chest muscles meet your abdominals a search on Google will pull nothing about you you remain undiscovered to all but me.
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32
I want to LAUGH like I've never laughed before. I want to feel salty tears streaming down the creases of my face as my abdominals cramp from jubilation. Time will stop completely as I lose myself in the belly laughs that roar between comedians of life. I want to LOVE like I've never loved before. I want to feel my heart beating with sunshine to the sound of a violin. The notes will play harmony in my soul filling my spirit with orchestrated synchronicity. I want to LIVE like I've never lived before. I want to take chances and leap before I think. I will dive off a cliff into a deep clear lagoon submerging my shell. I will close my eyes and JUMP as I plunge into aquamarine bliss.
0
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 9:17 PM UTC
Manifesting 2017
i hate you and it is almost ****** the way that i want to destroy you from the ground up, flay your flesh from your bones and watch your blood coagulate in the hot summer sun it is cold where your body lays buried beneath mimosa pudica so preciously planted i love the way your hardened body becomes pliant to the touch my warm blooded fingertips pressing into your sides and if i had a **** i'd destroy your body more thoroughly **** your spitslick opening more roughly than with the use of a finger or three which opening am i referring to the one i create with a knife and a flick of the wrist right between your ghostrib and the meat of your stomach i find it to be most pleasant to the ear that wet moistmaking slop of a cavern and i want to put my tongue to it so carefully tasting your inner screams and whats left of your soul stuck inside that rotting meat it cries for help and i am your mother rich in my love and rich in my hatred for the uncouth young way your body wraps around my quivering flesh my indecisive muscle ambivalently traverses the planes of your abdominals and my fingers follow, stained black with your bile i love the texture of your insides smooth against my calloused touch your faded whimpers echo in my ear and i am ecstatic i've clipped your wings and you are my pet now my gorgeous gangrene wild animal to keep and to care for and i love you i am your mother and i love you
0
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
i am your m m // other
at 5 AM i loved you again loved the seductive sapphires of your eyes a certain snare for fools like me, loved the shape of your hands and the spaces between your fingers where mine used to be i loved the flick of a swirl in your hair and the thickness of it under my nails, the husky depth of your ***** laugh and the wonky smile it accompanied, a crooked glint of glee your warm body and the wiry hair of your legs, firm abdominals and stubble barely there, just enough to scratch my lips at 5 AM i loved you again but at six, i woke up sunlight shining clarity on daylight’s disappointing truths: none of the above counts for **** all when it comes to exes like you
0
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 8:13 PM UTC
5 AM
he runs and runs away from invisible enemies, settles for a wide street corner eventually enters heavily gasping a small café. the abdominals are ripped from all the coughing. the swiftly waitress realizes that, as he orders a cup of black coffee. she asks him, if it was a fine sporting day, with a wide, plainly sinister smirk. confused as he was, he gives her an absent nod, in hope to leave him alone and serve that **** coffee. at least he found an excellent spot covered on a stakeout for his own death. the street on the left, called Void Street, seems pretty occupied but shows no sign of the ambitious hitmen. on his right lies Paradise Avenue, emptied and distilled of silence still nervous he bites his fingers, although no nails are attached to them anymore so he ***** the angst dry like a skint man does with the tip of his last wrinkled cigarette, that he found in one of his forgotten jacket pockets safe space now, he reckons, only to have his throat cut
0
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC
Follow The Sound
Yo it's big Yosef coming with that unoriginal style Make emcees throw in the towels Tighten ya bowels Mic Judo you know my flows cold Astronomical beating suckas Leave em with open abdominals Destined to be a criminal since I was an embryo By the society eyes so I had to learn another principle Black men used to rule though now we was used as a mule I picked apart where the lies start deep in the heart I found myself a lion I ain't lyin' dynasty multiplyin' Fools need to analyze they enterprise as I rise Like the sun from West to East a true beast On the mic bars is beauty even got the ***** from a cutie Slim waist big ***** blow more hash than Hootie Microphone is my duty scorin' like the Fugees I be a refuge In my own country but can't stop me Or drop me I got skills by the ton And that's on the one Two to three clips might rip ya hips Close ya lips then ya soul dips darkness Eclipse Grindin' harder than the next man and on the other hand My styles is known to bruise ya midweight cruiser Deliver more casualties than Fallujah
0
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 4:41 AM UTC
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