"alluringly" poems
Elated to see you aloft in the night sky
To what do I owe this enchanted boon.
In the merry company of winking stars,
Enthralled by this sight as I admire my moon.
Bathe me in your streaks of translucent silver.
Accompany me through my sleepless nights.
Watching over me with unwavering vigil.
Swathe me in whispers of peaceful respite.
Oh how you govern the raging tides of my soul.
Rest your gaze as the waters break upon my shore...
Erode and weaken the load strewn over my burning shoals,
Sands drowned breathless but craving for more.
Few nights now... Smitten as you coyly turn away.
Thick strands of shadow clad hair in gentle cascades,
Alluringly obscuring a slight fraction of your face.
A tiny crescent blanketed away; into the blackness it fades.
More nights pass... Now I see only a lesser moon
Leaving me with only half; darkness so had claimed.
Please make yourself last; you mustn't leave too soon,
I'm not ready to be left crippled and maimed.
I silently look up as more nights go by.
I watched my lunar love dissolving into space.
My heart too, torn away a morsel at a time...
Finally she had gone; without a sliver or a trace.
Every nightfall since is rife with emptiness and despair.
I asked the stars if they could soothe my gaping void...
But they'd only twinkle in indifference...
Regardless of the pleas I've employed.
Unsure of how many rises it has thus been.
Nights only brought the onslaught of mocking stars above.
Still I toy with the promises made overhead,
For the awaited return of my crazed elusive love.
I know it's frivolous to think I'm the only one...
There are others who pine just as I do.
But I yearn the most for your sought after attention,
For our hearts have sung in every colour and every hue.
Anxiety at peak, dismayed almost broken,
Then I hear a sweet song sung; distant and far.
A song that shared the words we once had spoken,
Again enveloped in translucent silver, with relief I sighed...,
"There you are..."
.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
I walked into a sunset that did not belong to me,
Its vivid colours burning across the Mediterranean Sea.
In a fragile, elusive moment of composure
I gazed at the choppy sea moving closer
To the rugged, pebbly, rocky shore
Where I stood alone against the Rock.
The Rock of Gibraltar watched with a smile
As the turbulent Med pulsating with life
Scattered its waves against the strand,
And the sapphire waters kissed the ancient land.
The stormy sea embraced the coast
With fierceness intangible as a ghost.
The air vibrated with a taste of freedom,
With barely audible words of wisdom
That travelled across the centuries
To fill the tangy air with memories.
The voices from the past enveloped the Rock
In an alluringly mythical, protective cloak.
I gathered the strength I drew from the Rock;
Fears discarded, the resolve growing strong,
I walked the Med Steps to the very top
Against a dazzlingly splendid backdrop
Of the breathtaking views of the bay,
Basking in the aura of fears thrown away.
Intoxicated by the beauty, hungry for more,
I was feeling elated to the very core.
The fear of heights temporarily conquered,
The contentment felt almost awkward.
Suddenly, the world seemed a different place:
Offering the nature's graceful embrace.
As the starry night slowly descended,
In my solitude, I felt protected
By the mighty Rock standing tall and grand
Guarding the ancient, immemorial land.
Copyright: Nara Hodge 2018
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
#do you know what phosphenes are?
when you rub your eyes
those little blinking dots
the ones of different colours
that dance around alluringly
you are very much like phosphenes
a vast array of colour
destroying boundless darkness
make me forget my fatigue
i immerse myself in your beauty
breathtaking, indescribable
but as soon as i open my eyes
you disperse into nothing
i'm met with the sight of another bleak day
until i close my eyes again
a̶n̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶r̶u̶b̶ ̶e̶l̶s̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
Beautiful
You are beautiful
Let me try to describe
You are cute and charming
And alarmingly disarming
You’re elegantly delightful
With a twist of fascinating magnificence
Your smile is alluringly dazzling
Your words keep me in suspense
There’s a wonderful admiration
In the way you are delicate and pretty
With a fire I know you hold inside
You demand anything but pity
Comely and angelic
You’re ravishing and divine
You’re the most pulchritudinous woman I’ve ever met
And I so wish to call you mine <3
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:35 AM UTC
There really is no better way
To spend a rainy summer's day ......
*Your
kisses
soft
yet
alluringly
teasing
Lips
hovering
over mine
like a dragonfly
beating it's wings
Fanning
my desire
Spreading like
wildfire
through my veins
Neurons alive
with ambition
I tremble
in anticipation
of your caress
Greedy
for you to
take me
completely,
uncompromising,
owning my eyes
my body
my soul
as you hold me
on the brink
over and over
until my passion
bursts .......
Like the rain clouds
that orchestrated
this encounter*
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
So
You've found a girl who can hold your gaze
You've found a girl with those sinful curves
that girl with the lips that you want sayin' your name
Oh she's beautiful alright. How did you get so lucky?
Maybe you're not as lucky as you think you are?
Does being
luscious, limber, lavacious, and alluringly lustworthy
make up for being
lewd, lethargic, and a lackadaisical liar?
So what that she's
ogle-worthy, optically pleasing, orgasmically ideal
if she's
offensive, ostentatiously ornate, and overbearing?
She may be
vivacious, voluptuous, and sexually voracious
She's also
vain, vapid, vacuous, a vengeful *****
Don't let her
exotic, ****** efficaciousness
Blind you to her
egocentric, evasive, envious nature
Those lips won't look so enticing when they're spitting poison barbs into your heart
Wouldn't you rather have a girl
Who is likeable?
Who is original?
Who is vibrant?
Who is enough to make you happy?
It's all you need
Do I have to spell it out for you?
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Oh ferocious angels,
lionesque children of Eden
on narrow streets and polluted alleyways
whispering cruel things to each other,
you're radiant in your belligerence
and as my enemies you are virtuous.
Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room
a faint glow exhales
from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating
firefly wings of blossoms
alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray
diamond shine and shimmer.
Dusty tin roofs billow
firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted
mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding.
Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which
jot up and up arduous ruby landings,
hardwood floor cracked
and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways
of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur
the serpentine walls with memories.
Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with
avarice rebellious to concord living
harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes
empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva.
Few kinds of darkness transcendental
subduing other darkness to a weak shadow.
There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads
this intricate unspoken connection to those who
rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of
cars in July heat.
Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments
where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment
modern meditations practiced
finding a balance in such an anxious
volatile world like this.
Oh ferocious angels, impetuous
forlorn seraphs,
sing! sing and soar!
Boundless is our ardor
and our passion.
Unenclosed is the lion
in it's bloom.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
And again surfaced that smirk
Glinting ever so alluringly in my wake
Kindling an effigy of suspense
Amidst the faces that evening
With the minutes I dissolved
As classic fairness advanced
Forsaken was I to saturate within carnality
Could such a reason exist
For such monumental idolatry?
Could such possibilities exist
For the sake of emasculating warriors?
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 8:41 PM UTC
I like to indulge
in what they call
"delusions of grandeur."
I love to think that maybe
I am an incredible poet
and that people have been amazed
by my mastery of words and how
I translate my pain
into ink-scratchings.
Or maybe the twisting vine doodles
that wind their way around every corner
of my every page are unique
and unprecedented
and alluringly artistic.
Perhaps
I am beautiful
and no one has discovered me
yet.
Or slightly more possibly,
my pain might just be dazzling
and only I
can make my feelings seem interesting
and beautiful.
But this is my favorite
of all my fantasies,
the one I save
for when I need hope.
I will grant myself a minute of thinking that I,
out of everyone,
am more important,
more special,
to you.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Honeysuckles blooming
In the harsh summer heat
Luring the butterflies near
All eager to eat
Honey-like nectar
An alluringly tender treat
I wonder if those lips will taste
As irresistibly sweet
Vines creeping and trailing
Covering me from head to toe
lacing into the divets of my skin
Choking me slow
A beading drop of honey
Gliding gently on my tongue
Soft fragrance lingers
All from when we were young
He is entangled in my soul
Jan 9, 2024
Jan 9, 2024 at 10:27 AM UTC
In this city house amid the screaming sirens,
here in the whirling of paper and garbage
I hear the banging of trucks over broken roads,
low rider stereos, their deep boomed, throaty moans.
Here in this strange forest that flies with cactus birds
alluringly they sing in secret symphonies,
before the howling chorus of coyote calls,
the rising magnetic moon, a mountain flower
pink blushed that fully blooms.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
#*The space I have
needs someone to fill up
and found none so far.*
I cursed the man for invading
into the May notes of casuarinas
on a space all my own
before the sun was alluringly soft
on the tender hearts by the sea
finding love in whispered notes
sheltered by the swaying trees.
*Found many and none
and their vacuous echoes
question where I failed
or was there precious silence
speaking it wasn't a void
that I ravaged into sands
of futile recollections and laments.*
The mercury was falling
over the man as I left him
and soon the creed of hope
would break in like evernew waves
around a vacuum of empty space.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
All of it, every grain of it
Is a simple white lie
Well worded, well voiced
And alluringly expressed
And it has pervaded so deep now
It is deceiving
To me it is the truth now
I was cognizant of it all this while
But the soul inside me
Did not have the courage
Or energy to absorb the fact
That I was lied upon,again
So I played it along
Played it well,
And played it for too long.
To live a lie,
To see it in front of your eyes.
Staying quiet because of
The Horror you see,
That will originate
If you confront about it,
Talk about it,
Just accept it.
Play it with a smile,
And all goes fine.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
life is but a dream...
Lithuanian speaking parrots
dangle alluringly toxic grapes,
but you breakfast on hyacinths
and suddenly turn cruel in April.
Seductively sleepy lidded women
grip you with invisible fangs
squeezing away any latent lust.
Your cat silently reads your will
licking his sharp, sodden chops.
The IRS sends you an inviting
prison manufactured Christmas card.
The car you can't drive finds a
new owner on Craig's List and
leaves you stranded and alone.
Unable to reach the grocery store,
you will choke on frozen burritos.
Your good cholesterol joins the plot,
turns bad, and conspires to ******
Lowly earthworms dug for fishing
mutate into malevolent Blacks Mambas.
AARP hounds you to rejoin
no matter how many times you move.
Your high-speed Internet connection
devolves into a slow, taunting swamp.
Your toenails just won’t shut up.
The sun rises suspiciously late.
And you've only been awake an hour.
Could be a very long day.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 7:16 AM UTC
I fell in love with your proses
Your words never failed to enlighten everyone
You picked up every single one who needs help the most
They wanted to die,
But you keep on scolding with love
I never thought I could fall in love with someone here
Your passion for words
Your passion for peace
Is so alluringly attractive
Like a magnet you pulled me into your gravity
For the first time I'm actually scared to talk to a guy
But we did talked and now I'm still hungover.
You got me hypnotised by your kindness
Your relentless flame to help those who wanted to end
You with your pen, sparks of love fervent
Your neverending collabs, you will never say no.
If only you would ask me
And maybe we could be
Partners for life.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
I would have posited longings ago
this short-shrift to-do over such a curt list undone
was inconceivable
outside
the pages of deceptively practiced perceptions
published in a pop-up book smirk,
or beyond
the canary-yellow frames of a cartoonish
distortion relishing its mired but spongy giggles
A
Been-here-all-along,
you’ve-never-bothered-to-look
lake sleeps implacably
at the bottom of an irascible ocean
Be
Whatever it may,
you can’t deny the wantonly
watted life teeming pretty as it pleases,
untroubled by a hollow-core belief
or the extremest demands of our foul temper
See
How I could have,
if I’d only swallowed
those bubbled-up blurts
ring-wronging the tip of my wriggling tongue,
never been audibly
landed by one alluringly barbed certainty
There are supine bodies—
stagnant, quicksilver pure—
no material ship navigates
and no intentional intruder can swim
without
emerging atypically
unsettled by the caustic exposure
Tread lithely
when you go;
this shoreline bites.
Its clustered rocks will snap shut around you
after digging in below you with a protruding toe,
and its carmine stalks will sting you
as they writhe past you
to mime a part-less goodbye
Here be where
the monstrous cold seeps
and a hellish hot vents
in compliance with this centuries-old complaint:
too-short was the time we wept
for those wiggly wonders
we could have kept
if we’d only octopus-arm embraced
the inevitability of their bandy-legged escape
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 8:02 AM UTC
It's true, I must admit
He caught my eye, doubt I caught his
Drenched lips and maneuvering gestures
Lost in lust perhaps, wandering in bliss
Shimmering stars above reflecting
The sparkle in his eyes as he nodded
Lucid dreaming every day
Will he realize or will he not
Now I stand alluringly
Beside him, gazing
Fingers tangled
Hearts mingled, souls stringed
Sinews intrigued
My thoughts had topped all odds, I suppose
Nonetheless, it's true, I must admit, he caught my eye
And indeed I caught his
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
She strutted in
Hips swinging,
And stood in the centre of the room.
As if all eyes were upon her
She tossed her head
The hair flick suggesting "look at me! I'm amazing!"
She sipped a drink through a straw
Occasionally licking a stray droplet from its length
Smirking as lust filled their faces
- and their pants
Her tongue whispered alluringly "look at me! I'm ****
She gazed at them with incredible ease
Absolute confidence
She lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers at them, a suggestive wave
- and winked
Her eyes twinkled, daring "look at me, I'm irresistible"
She followed the first guy that took her hand
She giggled at the compliments
Drank his money, glass after glass
She let him strip her bare
Of the slight barrier of fabric that shrouded her,
Her naked, fragile body begging "You believe me, don't you? Tell me you believe me? Tell me I'm wonderful, tell me..."
And the sweet poison took over.
Their clumsy bodies entwined, drunken blood urging drunken desires to be fulfilled
Her drunken mind pleading for affection, pleading, just for this moment, to be adored.
She picked up her clothes
Feeling his eyes upon her
Feeling his wanting
Feeling his satisfaction, of what she had given him
- Feeling, miserably, feeling that at least he saw her as incredible, as **** as irresistible, as... as ...
A ****
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
Spirits are demons,
It's alluringly clear;
Cordial at first,
With smiles
Cloaking sneers.
Devils in bottles
Of liquor and beer.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
*There's been planted hope in my heart.
Just a little seed.
It's cold, oh it's ever so dark.
I can't see,
I don't know if you will sprout.
Oh little seed are you all alone,
Oh tiny seed are you all by yourself.
Isn't there anyone to take care of you.
To help you grow and see your struggle with spreading your alluringly, bewitchingly, weighed petals.
I don't know,
I can't see in the dark.
If I should ever wander off and get lost,
I beg that I will stumble upon you.
And see your wild eternal hope take root.
Grow.
Sprout.
Lay myself down beside you and become the mold which you consume.
To be the the one who made you see the lucent light.
Your own dangerous light.*
MJR. 17/01-15
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
Tonight I drink the ruby wine
of God’s sublime name
my rosewood mala dangling
alluringly over my fingers
each bead calling Him
each sip of His precious
name a holy grail
a divine elixir
brewed in Heaven’s
vineyard
Drunk on a love
that the world can never
understand
I sing His name
and dance through the
moonlit streets
with Ramakrishna, Mira Bai
and all the crazy
God intoxicated Saints
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
My frenzied doodles,
turn alluringly curvaceous,
my little boy watching this,
with a sudden twinkle in his eyes
yell repeatedly,"Milk".
He demands, "whose?"
what should the answer be,
*I put on my thinking cap quick
and step in to his baby shoes.*
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 10:43 AM UTC
If perception truly is everything, then to age in Amerika is a psychological disaster.
Amerika is a youth obsessed country; a capitalistic consumer oriented country. All the power of capitalism goes into (via advertising, etc.) creating and maintaining this youth obsession.
Take women as an example. If you are female in Amerika, you must always look 25. You must be slim, long-haired, sexually alluring, preferably blond and dress youthfully. Even if you are 60.
This goes a long way toward answering the question why so many women who are 40+ are so fat, unhappy, depressed and ****** Simply put, there is no reasonable way for most of them to meet cultural expectations.
Either they let themselves go (fatties abound in the US) or they resort to grotesqueness to measure up (extreme diet and exercise, plastic surgery, etc.)
They can't win so depression and self-loathing abound.
Most mature women have known that horrible moment when a young, attractive man looks right through them. They have become culturally invisible: they are shocked and hurt.
Men suffer from all this too, but not as much. Younger women will sometimes actually see value in an older man. Rarely, but sometimes, so cultural invisibility comes later for men.
Mid-life money, Corvettes and condos only delay the inevitable. The same moment will arrive and so will the hurt and shock.
This is not as simple as all men are pigs or all women are *******
If we know that the perception that we don't exist is created by the capitalist media and advertisers, why do we do we buy into it?
Every age has its beauty. Why not accept it and be how old you are? Be who you are. Forget those impossible perfections. Stop trying to be Barbie and Ken. Be real.
It is difficult but possible. I have seen it.
In France you see lovely older women dressed alluringly (but not like 20-year-olds) who are slim, can run in high heels over wet cobblestones and exude sexuality. You often see them with handsome younger men, who are clearly entranced. Why there and not here?
Maybe it's the champagne or maybe it's just sanity.
mce
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
Beneath scintillating neon,
She stood, as sassy sultry seductress;
Bewitching busy broadway
In awe, alluringly most attractive.
Her frenzy fancy he caught;
Free-falling hook, line and sinker
Into delectable dragnet,
Anticipating animated animality.
She lured him to her brothel,
Gave him more than he bargained for;
Banging, balling and bashing...
Beyond *** salacity and satisfaction...
His end was quick and gory;
Bathed in blood and begging for death.
******** as he breathed last;
'Time to cleanup for her next victim...
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 11:24 AM UTC
The monk with his disciples was traveling by car
The journey was long and arduous
When with a screech stopped it a flat tyre
Causing them a break from the rush!
The monk was upset with still a long way to go
Halted by this unforeseen obstacle
When caught his eyes the river in calming flow
Upon her an island’s spectacle!
He asked his disciples to find him a boat
For he had some time in his hand
The island beckoned him alluringly remote
With its forest and the silvery sand!
With one of his disciples he took the boat ride
Soon his feet touched the green of the forest
He felt the pleasure of being on the other side
For a stroll and in the green a little rest!
Walking some way they came upon two men
So emaciated their ribcages jutted out
Sitting under a tree couldn’t be said for what gain
The monk thought them mad men no doubt!
He made a coughing sound expecting them to rise
For those men seemed lost in a trance
Their spell thus broken they opened their eyes
And rose to their feet that instance!
They bowed to the monk in the most courteous grace
With folded hands and stooped head
No distress of being famished showed on their face
They stood tall and ***** instead!
The monk asked what the duo was doing there
In that forest wasting out their day
Beneath a tree sitting nakedly bare
It was not meditation’s right way!
A Guru they must get and follow his creed
Must chant the secret hymns taught by him
There are rituals to follow rigid paths to tread
God cannot be reached by mere whim!
To all his words they nodded humble and serene
Not an utterance once escaped from them
Remained bowed in respect their frames frail and lean
In the forest two seekers without name!
It was time for the monk to get back to the car
For remained for him still more mile
The island and its forest would soon recede far
In his lifespan some memories awhile!
While boarding the car he saw an incredible sight
And it broke the hard shell of his pride
Those two men were walking in the sun’s failing light
Across the river without the aid of a boat ride!
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC