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"aphrodisiac" poems
Juicy, sweet, hot chocolate skin...black girls are black goddess **** black girls For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulattoes. Sweet brown chocolate color. And inviting, savoryly pure black-sugar skin color. This is the most delicious, beautiful, sweet candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a pastry shop when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get her children from her, and live with only one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her alone. Your life will be the sweetest. Skin of black color and color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. The skin of dark-skinned girls seems to be radiating the heat of *** burning sweet, sensual passion, this color of temptation, attraction. There are drums of ethnic, traditional music, it's the sound of *** . The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ****** The skin of black and dark chocolate is the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. The women of three races are beautiful: the sultry, torrid, hot chocolate of hot passion of the deep passion of black fire of love and *** a paradise oasis of tenderness of the east, and snow-white, sensual pearls. For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American girls and women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulatto. Sweet brown chocolate color. And alluring, relish pure black sugar color of skin. This is the most delicious, beautiful, cute candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a candy store when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get children from her, and you will live only with one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her. Your life will be the sweetest. Your skin is the color of one hot, unforgettable night, your libido is the word lava in your hot body, burning passion, only your photos can excite me, only your beauty turns off my brains, you have a **** ****** tune in my head, you are like a hot bath after a hard of the day, like an ****** massage, like a soft pillow with sleeping softness. Dark skin The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ****** The skin is black and the color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. Dark-skinned beauties are a deep passion of black fire - this is a hot safari, a wild savannah, an exotic havana. My new love poem, i hope you will like it. For my dear light brown girls Captivating honey caramel is like a shining dawn, life with you is like a sweet ****** dream. Juicy sweet fabulous fantasy beautiful. From your sexuality, the glasses of the captured ****** force in your eyes are sweating, this is the amazing magic of charm concealed in them. You are my depraved temptation ***** temptation. The sweet temptation of a tenderly roaring passion is a breathtaking juicy caramel berry, sometimes pouring with a picturesque modulation, tender sensual shades of red sunset, incinerated with the burning heat of passion. From your hottest, sultry beauty, the brain seems to turn off and faint from your sweetest kisses. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:56 AM UTC
Juicy, sweet, hot chocolate skin
Juicy, sweet, hot chocolate skin...black girls are black goddess **** black girls For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulattoes. Sweet brown chocolate color. And inviting, savoryly pure black-sugar skin color. This is the most delicious, beautiful, sweet candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a pastry shop when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get her children from her, and live with only one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her alone. Your life will be the sweetest. Skin of black color and color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. The skin of dark-skinned girls seems to be radiating the heat of *** burning sweet, sensual passion, this color of temptation, attraction. There are drums of ethnic, traditional music, it's the sound of *** . The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ****** The skin of black and dark chocolate is the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. The women of three races are beautiful: the sultry, torrid, hot chocolate of hot passion of the deep passion of black fire of love and *** a paradise oasis of tenderness of the east, and snow-white, sensual pearls. For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American girls and women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulatto. Sweet brown chocolate color. And alluring, relish pure black sugar color of skin. This is the most delicious, beautiful, cute candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a candy store when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get children from her, and you will live only with one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her. Your life will be the sweetest. Your skin is the color of one hot, unforgettable night, your libido is the word lava in your hot body, burning passion, only your photos can excite me, only your beauty turns off my brains, you have a **** ****** tune in my head, you are like a hot bath after a hard of the day, like an ****** massage, like a soft pillow with sleeping softness. Dark skin The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ****** The skin is black and the color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. Dark-skinned beauties are a deep passion of black fire - this is a hot safari, a wild savannah, an exotic havana. My new love poem, i hope you will like it. For my dear light brown girls Captivating honey caramel is like a shining dawn, life with you is like a sweet ****** dream. Juicy sweet fabulous fantasy beautiful. From your sexuality, the glasses of the captured ****** force in your eyes are sweating, this is the amazing magic of charm concealed in them. You are my depraved temptation ***** temptation. The sweet temptation of a tenderly roaring passion is a breathtaking juicy caramel berry, sometimes pouring with a picturesque modulation, tender sensual shades of red sunset, incinerated with the burning heat of passion. From your hottest, sultry beauty, the brain seems to turn off and faint from your sweetest kisses. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
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14
Prolog: Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind caressing private chambers with passion, over time words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity Love’s Play: Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace as moments become endless as vectors of subspace sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms while the players combine to mold a single plasm ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations too diverse to classify for logical deliberations yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached where there is no retreat and no return from its breach Epilog: Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds written in the historic words as the heavens foretold feelings ignite once again burning deeply within opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.
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Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
Love’s Play
I nearly fell out of my comfortable chair when I heard some sexologist declare: “The scent of licorice in the air makes men and women want to pair. Far more effective than cologne, Use licorice or you’ll sleep alone.” Some say Chocolate gets you “Honey”- I say try some “Good and Plenty” Remember Charlie? he was an engineer He didn’t drink coffee and abstained from beer “Charlie had an engine and he sure had fun He used “Good and Plenty” candy cause it made his “train” run” For all I know, this tale is baloney Licorice may leave you ***** and lonely. But if you are lonely and feeling forlorn, candy’s much cheaper than rhinoceros horn.
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Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 4:46 PM UTC
Good and Plenty- an aphrodisiac????
Her dark chocolate skin is an aphrodisiac Yet I cannot taste Awakening the beast within Dormant for so long He longs to play Her chest expands with every breath Beautiful skin tone and gorgeous smile Hair the way I like in pigtails Reaching down to her buttocks And her eyes? Big brown eyes They pierce through me like a sword Never letting up their gaze Seeing through to the beast within Roaring with intensity I long to feel, My hands travel freely to antagonize I long to taste, The forbidden fruit I long to see, Her body move beneath my touch I long to smell, Her chocolate skin moistened by the heat of immense passion I long to hear, Her moans and cries as she comes undone at my hand The beast wants to torture my beauty Whips and chains await you my dear Let's explore your pleasure together JM 4/26/17
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 8:25 AM UTC
The Beast Awakens
emerald, olive, viridian oh how you perplex me forest, jade, chartreuse why do you tease me so cyan, verdigris, moss such excitement arises to be a word to be a meaning is there such a thing, to have a feeling to see a vision, phthalo, pine, teal are you the same mint, myrtle, laurel you make me envious to be blooming, to be healthy to be young, to be clumsy are you callow, how about credulous? but such a conservationist unquestioning, so trustful, tenderfoot and common the tree, the lawn, the willow though ecological and crude a sage in all but name apple, spinach, pea aren't you scrumptious, lime, kelly, bice are you nature, how about luck you're pungently rotten though with such dark beauty and hope, love and lust ensues you're the jolliness of balance and the creative intelligence; of evil, and decay of money and safety, will you resurrect me, are you immortality? such jealousy arises high goals and honor so so allusive healing and vitality you're calming though fast lush spring stability, abundant generosity, vert vegetation; witchcraft an aphrodisiac I hear, are you youth or fading youth? sunrise and life, growth and fertility sacred ideology, eroticized though shameful so romantic and humble I see the third ray or is the the fifth ray, the third eye are you truth, are you vision it's becoming a science, so much compassion the fourth chakra, the heart, the centre of us all a higher consciousness such a harmonious aura a hunter, a nurse, a solider, an outdoorsman villains and superstition misfortune and prosperity with toxicity, sickness and death, recycle and reuse oh so powerful you exude auspiciousness just a holiday mystical fairies and spirits though also devilish, cancer in the stars a renewal of paradise, biliously tranquil are you refreshingly soothing, peacefully restful, a naive novice, very understanding, is there truly a term for you? what do you really convey, countless representations a definition of name, or do you signify the feeling, the specimen the aspect? though some have no locution for you here I am, stepping around the issue you are you, in any word yet with a different meaning
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Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
To be Ao
emerald, olive, viridian oh how you perplex me forest, jade, chartreuse why do you tease me so cyan, verdigris, moss such excitement arises to be a word to be a meaning is there such a thing, to have a feeling to see a vision, phthalo, pine, teal are you the same mint, myrtle, laurel you make me envious to be blooming, to be healthy to be young, to be clumsy are you callow, how about credulous? but such a conservationist unquestioning, so trustful, tenderfoot and common the tree, the lawn, the willow though ecological and crude a sage in all but name apple, spinach, pea aren't you scrumptious, lime, kelly, bice are you nature, how about luck you're pungently rotten though with such dark beauty and hope, love and lust ensues you're the jolliness of balance and the creative intelligence; of evil, and decay of money and safety, will you resurrect me, are you immortality? such jealousy arises high goals and honor so so allusive healing and vitality you're calming though fast lush spring stability, abundant generosity, vert vegetation; witchcraft an aphrodisiac I hear, are you youth or fading youth? sunrise and life, growth and fertility sacred ideology, eroticized though shameful so romantic and humble I see the third ray or is the the fifth ray, the third eye are you truth, are you vision it's becoming a science, so much compassion the fourth chakra, the heart, the centre of us all a higher consciousness such a harmonious aura a hunter, a nurse, a solider, an outdoorsman villains and superstition misfortune and prosperity with toxicity, sickness and death, recycle and reuse oh so powerful you exude auspiciousness just a holiday mystical fairies and spirits though also devilish, cancer in the stars a renewal of paradise, biliously tranquil are you refreshingly soothing, peacefully restful, a naive novice, very understanding, is there truly a term for you? what do you really convey, countless representations a definition of name, or do you signify the feeling, the specimen the aspect? though some have no locution for you here I am, stepping around the issue you are you, in any word yet with a different meaning
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86
Only the open sky Could take my wings Mold them into essences of purity I was forged within Rapid rivers of forsaken modesty Left alone and sore below Because my insecurities undressed me And bedded me savagely Before the watchful eye of the moon The minds glowing aphrodisiac As feathered hate falls from blackened flight A finger is raised in denial of sunlight A symbol of woebegone sensuality
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
Wings of Worry
The smoke drifts up a pale blue making ribbons in the lone lights spread above our panting heads. We built ancient temples in the forest green and dug holes for warming hands on fire rocks. Do you understand? There is no time here. Sleeping in the cold grounds embrace, I kiss the sky goodnight through the holes in the roof. Lost in the eternal emerald of this season, SAvaGES was our cry, beating hearts howl out in a brooding bark. Lick your wounds, bleed your blistered hands chopping saplings. This room is finally complete. I, I am content. You, You're as angel pale as the moon, by its light I see your curves. Touching soft till the morning birds. No air between our lips to feel the words. Its *** in our bellies that sweetened southern swill. The trees groan in the breeze I groan rapped between your knees. This forest is aphrodisiac enough for us.
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
Blushing Woods
Today, I wake with a fire, burning through the gallows in this heart of mine, searing the cavity within, and thus churning the blood into a vile silver mercury, throbbing through the aorta, veins, and into the legs, arms, hands and finally the mind, into a madness --and in madness a confession-- I yearn. I yearn, so much and so much more, than just a gaze, than just a kind greeting, than an accidental touch. But I am a beast and no more, eating, sleeping and watching, as be it societal acceptance, a self resistant machine, that renders me a master of the art of acting indifferent at your gaze. Blame me not, my love, for this act is  to ward off the seductive aphrodisiac of which vibrant colors  glows in ecstasy, (being anything but) in which I believe love to be. So leave it at that, and nothing more, thoughts of unrequited love and thoughts never to become actions.
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 1:16 AM UTC
Gatsby
Just how does warm weather conjure the inebriated & lovers, on to Londons’ Tube? Are sweaty nights an aphrodisiac tune, to an alcoholic groove? Wavering tight stepped shuffles, paired with googly-eyed, hand-clasped, lip-locked, snuggles. Inward thought toothpicking the corners of mouths, as cheerful eyes spy the Underground antics of the South. That off the shoulder dress, stranger clothes, newer shoes; a fashionista bazar, A fleeting memory is Winters’ white metaled fire. Hapless in this weather what else to do but smile? Is it not so much easier than to revile? Warm weather has a mission… dismiss disgust. Go on London smile. It’s a must. © Qwey.ku
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
UNDERGROUND ANTICS
Pocket watch, I tick well. The streets are lizardly crevices Sheer-sided, with holes where to hide. It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries. Bright fish hooks, the smiles of women Gulp at my bulk And I, in my snazzy blacks, Mill a litter of ******* like jellyfish. To nourish The cellos of moans I eat eggs -- Eggs and fish, the essentials, The aphrodisiac squid. My mouth sags, The mouth of Christ When my engine reaches the end of it. The tattle of my Gold joints, my way of turning ******* to ripples of silver Rolls out a carpet, a hush. And there is no end, no end of it. I shall never grow old. New oysters Shriek in the sea and I Glitter like Fontainebleu Gratified, All the fall of water an eye Over whose pool I tenderly Lean and see me.
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3.7k
******
rolling in the rosy dish of my tongue it returns in my mouth to its most basic elements a primordial alabaster foam of corn syrup and gelatin and unpronounceable would-rather-not-knows i think: marshmallows are the juxtaposition to my quaker pallet microwave tap water&Fry;'s Cocoa awash and dissolve my saccharine oral fixation in jealous slurps of heat that radiate down down down heat, you see- (as a sakura flush blossoms 'cross the pale of my throat) -has always been the key here's a secret: in solitude i i'm a homunculous girl all lips and all hands
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
unnatural aphrodisiac
My golden heart beats and beats for you A thousand palpitations at any given moment I can feel my chest caving in within every pulse Filling my head with such evocative dialogue The salacious sound of your slithering voice Snakes into my head spreading like an aphrodisiac You solicit lecherously illicit questions that unnerve my judgment In our dreams we dreamt of double eclipses Upon our lips while we slept and slumbered Our bodies coiled like serpents tangled in tantric passion With the waking of giants and mythical expeditions Our hearts would burn the fieriest of red Ensnared between these silken sheets Springs tied around every exposed limb As if we haven’t known the sweetness of sleep for days
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Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 8:28 PM UTC
Tantric Serpents Of Double Eclipses
*i hate to break it to you kid, i'm not mindful of narcissus' economics that's all oh so very modern...* but women are their own orbit, more chance to find a single mother than a single father... it's against nature to make the man without god, as it's against nature to make the woman with god... thus we have the tectonic plates making man with god, accepting or doubting, church or laboratory... and woman... an eroticism of jaw eaten faces... but a kiss to be a fingerprint likened to erasing the dangling of the bitten jaw... erased only once by the aphrodisiac of sirens' wail of aquatic opera so damnable that only one man heard it, while others scolded being in audience with beeswax... and by second chance, erased, indeed, but only by the suffragettes as the new nuns... as the new nuns dare comply to change, like every male become female and vice versa, and the popes disclose their continual loss of matrimony in their misogynistic involvement in ****** if i'm not the pope and do no encounter such practices, i'm not a pope at all! *only a ninth spoke as the necromancer, and of the nine spoke clearest, as it spoke, it dawned on me that sauron was invisible for the sword to strike, a gravity enveloping, a gravity envelope, rather than a skin of infinite diadem sharpenings, for nine rigs unto men, seven unto dwarfs, three unto elves, but none unto the orcs... strange.... ORC ARKHAN MORDOR ARRAC!*
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
the famed aphrodisiac of sirens' wail / ORC ARKHAN MORDOR ARRAC!
My Lucifer, unwitting Muse, dog-eared Vonnegut, afrobeatnik third eye, howls escaping from your headphones, wailing about secrets, about infidelity, about analyzing life until there ain’t nothin’ left. Then you shuffle by in your black and white Adidas, hair in twists, wearing the striped sweater of nihilistic intent, quoting the rants of Holden Caulfield in your blog like you never didn’t know him. I never asked to know you, to want who I can’t have when I can’t even love myself. And every fiber Of my being yearns for reciprocation. What is there to return? What is there to feel, you meditate on truth, fallen angel in the parlor of rebellion, blasphemous goodbye, bright and morning star simpering like crickets in the palms of daybreak. Your musicality radiates from subway chatter and overheard profanity down El Camino Real. I take in your ballad at my post office mailbox, in the abandoned echoes of daydream monologues. You’re a philosopher, exploring theory of mind, a cartographer, mapping the labyrinth of your deepest desires. Tell me again about desires, demonstrations of divine sadism. Tell me about human empathy, the animated faces of wordless expression, the metaphysics of free will, my beginning and my end, alpha and omega, my fortress in the land of chic. Blasphemous hustler, let your idealism simmer, your wit, your mojo, I come to you an amateur, a neophyte, a lowly scab in the strike against ignorance. Give me my melody, my song, my one-hit-wonder of all that is cliché and unknown. But I can’t be the other woman, your girlfriend, your aspiring Playboy bunny only 10-bucks-a-throw. Your highness-who-yells- his-ideas-into-the-ears-of-echoes, your every quirk spellbinds me. Each day I wake to your entourage vibrato. I am held captive by your brooding stare, empress of liberal doves. You visit in my dreams when the sky is a force of darkness viewing light through peepholes, your flaws an aphrodisiac, a love drug, a fast hit in the basement from the ecstasy of words.
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Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 5:37 AM UTC
Fixation
My Lucifer, unwitting Muse, dog-eared Vonnegut, afrobeatnik third eye, howls escaping from your headphones, wailing about secrets, about infidelity, about analyzing life until there ain’t nothin’ left. Then you shuffle by in your black and white Adidas, hair in twists, wearing the striped sweater of nihilistic intent, quoting the rants of Holden Caulfield in your blog like you never didn’t know him. I never asked to know you, to want who I can’t have when I can’t even love myself. And every fiber Of my being yearns for reciprocation. What is there to return? What is there to feel, you meditate on truth, fallen angel in the parlor of rebellion, blasphemous goodbye, bright and morning star simpering like crickets in the palms of daybreak. Your musicality radiates from subway chatter and overheard profanity down El Camino Real. I take in your ballad at my post office mailbox, in the abandoned echoes of daydream monologues. You’re a philosopher, exploring theory of mind, a cartographer, mapping the labyrinth of your deepest desires. Tell me again about desires, demonstrations of divine sadism. Tell me about human empathy, the animated faces of wordless expression, the metaphysics of free will, my beginning and my end, alpha and omega, my fortress in the land of chic. Blasphemous hustler, let your idealism simmer, your wit, your mojo, I come to you an amateur, a neophyte, a lowly scab in the strike against ignorance. Give me my melody, my song, my one-hit-wonder of all that is cliché and unknown. But I can’t be the other woman, your girlfriend, your aspiring Playboy bunny only 10-bucks-a-throw. Your highness-who-yells- his-ideas-into-the-ears-of-echoes, your every quirk spellbinds me. Each day I wake to your entourage vibrato. I am held captive by your brooding stare, empress of liberal doves. You visit in my dreams when the sky is a force of darkness viewing light through peepholes, your flaws an aphrodisiac, a love drug, a fast hit in the basement from the ecstasy of words.
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36
capsized beating purple algorithm for a heart, cross-nit aspirations still taste dirt on my teeth, the mission creep of eager eyed poets, carry a briefcase with my levi's -- close cut cigarette encounters, all brick shantytown of a friendship them lovelies run on endless, it's starting to get cold outside. restless sprites circle our ***** exhaling greek mythopoeics every sure footed step. alcoholism echoes in my skin a depth charge i cannot cut out, we all have broken thoughts here, all have blind spots in our stomachs, they read like a preacher's insecurities: burly things we warm ourselves with, the winters sting bitter. something is wrong with me, sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses, all the great thinkers **** themselves, it's the staunch lack of spotlight, way the earth drips lackadaisical-like we just call it a perfect orbit. shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse anemic shards of a cornered animal, we cut right to the bone here, or so we tell ourselves. and love is always the answer? that sure footed toothy angel so beautiful, it couldn't just be our churlish blood, frothing and calming, frothing and calming, electrons rise and fall to create light, they still circle an untapped atrocity perfectly, like this, like it must be god or something close. something stopping them from running, free from bonds ionic or otherwise, bare feet beating the pavement until there are no more stones to throw. firstborns of the universe, each star is a setting sun, blinks staggered, still grew us up quicker than most, there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism. them bones cut good doped up on oxytocin, those empty thoughts still rattling, dig sharp -- then nice and numb. and we cutthroat and glossy, sharper than ever. walk outside smoke a cigarette know how much you love her, look at the stars -- it's ******* beautiful isn't it
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
Jesus, Ect.
capsized beating purple algorithm for a heart, cross-nit aspirations still taste dirt on my teeth, the mission creep of eager eyed poets, carry a briefcase with my levi's -- close cut cigarette encounters, all brick shantytown of a friendship them lovelies run on endless, it's starting to get cold outside. restless sprites circle our ***** exhaling greek mythopoeics every sure footed step. alcoholism echoes in my skin a depth charge i cannot cut out, we all have broken thoughts here, all have blind spots in our stomachs, they read like a preacher's insecurities: burly things we warm ourselves with, the winters sting bitter. something is wrong with me, sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses, all the great thinkers **** themselves, it's the staunch lack of spotlight, way the earth drips lackadaisical-like we just call it a perfect orbit. shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse anemic shards of a cornered animal, we cut right to the bone here, or so we tell ourselves. and love is always the answer? that sure footed toothy angel so beautiful, it couldn't just be our churlish blood, frothing and calming, frothing and calming, electrons rise and fall to create light, they still circle an untapped atrocity perfectly, like this, like it must be god or something close. something stopping them from running, free from bonds ionic or otherwise, bare feet beating the pavement until there are no more stones to throw. firstborns of the universe, each star is a setting sun, blinks staggered, still grew us up quicker than most, there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism. them bones cut good doped up on oxytocin, those empty thoughts still rattling, dig sharp -- then nice and numb. and we cutthroat and glossy, sharper than ever. walk outside smoke a cigarette know how much you love her, look at the stars -- it's ******* beautiful isn't it
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64
There is a certain mystique about Essex County where Wiccan boutiques smite the eyes with linguistic confusion. Salaam reminds me of cold meat and Shalom reminds me of Welsh breakfasts even though the 1700s knew nothing of peace. So, now that we almost reach the threshold of Spring Aequus Nox, I commend Julius Caesar for his respect towards atmospheric refraction. We need to talk. Come on, and let us delve into classical and mythological philosophies where games of death are an aphrodisiac with a sprinkling of risqué.
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Invisible Regions of the Cosmos
Peering through lashes at his form He is more powerful than he gives himself credit for His body is strong and lean But his mind is stronger Layered with complexity and intelligence He is the first The first to break through her rules of life Logic becomes a distant memory Years of experience She is suddenly new, shiny and green His mind like a magnet His words an aphrodisiac His touch.. His touch, her reason lost She is in a new world In his world Each day she is high She loves the feeling Words become her rush Love becomes a crutch Eyes shut, judgement fades Quivering she cannot control He takes over her senses Pushing deep to her soul She loses herself No words escape her lips She is confused in a haze of euphoria Her high unimaginable Chocking with desire She is lost in his love But he is strong, stronger than her He just doesn’t know it Her mind crowded, her senses returned Now crashing Still lost , his love gone
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
she is new.
Looking at the times the way these dimes Droppin' like flies as time goes by thinkin' why? They living up to a ** status tryna to be the baddest But forget that you beautiful the way your are a shining star that's going dim Tryna impress them ? But they ain't seeing yo who do believe in? Me or next man Setting the masterplan at hand got **** She fell to the design that was planned Insecurities rushing cuffin' to a disease Invisible melodies stringing her menality Wake up and stop following these fakes in society Cuz they don't care about thee just another bill ya need to seal and **** These fakes tryna make fame off of a fake name Only to end up ashamed Now the next girl was giving her self to the world Eyes glistening like a pearl yo it makes me wanna earl She was lusting each scene for the cream and it seems She can't break away from the siblings Aphrodisiac beings spiritually killing Her soul outta control to many energies swarming a hole Thoughts dug deeper than an abyss soon to kiss A gravesite from having to many one nights Momentarily she's feels good from.the morning wood And if I could Change her views but she stuck in her ways So I guess the pain is there to stay floating away Me I'm on cloud nine tryna place my self in unison to the sun an unbecome a fallin' one Little lost women lookin' for men To take in can't amend Their problems but we all got problems Can't resolve 'em only evolve 'em above the rim Word to birdie lookin' for the enemies frenzy See the past I peeped the scenery since the age of three a golden taste of the coke and Hennessy Gave me a second chance to glance into the 9th D A Time traveler wisdom unraveler I'm the savior Resurrected from death in the form of a fetus Baby girl wipe ya tears no need to fear And compare against these buccaneers Most close their ears so they can't hear Ya sighs ...bawlin' no stallin' let's rise above all of those fallin'..now say...
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
Lilith's Bluez
Looking at the times the way these dimes Droppin' like flies as time goes by thinkin' why? They living up to a ** status tryna to be the baddest But forget that you beautiful the way your are a shining star that's going dim Tryna impress them ? But they ain't seeing yo who do believe in? Me or next man Setting the masterplan at hand got **** She fell to the design that was planned Insecurities rushing cuffin' to a disease Invisible melodies stringing her menality Wake up and stop following these fakes in society Cuz they don't care about thee just another bill ya need to seal and **** These fakes tryna make fame off of a fake name Only to end up ashamed Now the next girl was giving her self to the world Eyes glistening like a pearl yo it makes me wanna earl She was lusting each scene for the cream and it seems She can't break away from the siblings Aphrodisiac beings spiritually killing Her soul outta control to many energies swarming a hole Thoughts dug deeper than an abyss soon to kiss A gravesite from having to many one nights Momentarily she's feels good from.the morning wood And if I could Change her views but she stuck in her ways So I guess the pain is there to stay floating away Me I'm on cloud nine tryna place my self in unison to the sun an unbecome a fallin' one Little lost women lookin' for men To take in can't amend Their problems but we all got problems Can't resolve 'em only evolve 'em above the rim Word to birdie lookin' for the enemies frenzy See the past I peeped the scenery since the age of three a golden taste of the coke and Hennessy Gave me a second chance to glance into the 9th D A Time traveler wisdom unraveler I'm the savior Resurrected from death in the form of a fetus Baby girl wipe ya tears no need to fear And compare against these buccaneers Most close their ears so they can't hear Ya sighs ...bawlin' no stallin' let's rise above all of those fallin'..now say...
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49
no matter how intoxicating you are my aphrodisiac girl, you can never entice my sober sober heart
0
Jun 11, 2022
Jun 11, 2022 at 4:48 PM UTC
coquette
Two roads, Both of suffering, A travel of torment, An alcoholic buffering, A mental health descent. Two roads, Both amnesiac, Disasters once foretold, A twisted aphrodisiac, A trauma to remold. Two roads, And no yellow wood, The lines are blurred and gray, And no choice is ever good, With the forces at play. Two roads, And a traveler, With sanity at stake, The wrong choice could unravel her, A choice she's yet to make.
0
Oct 24, 2023
Oct 24, 2023 at 4:31 AM UTC
No Yellow Wood
thoughtless drippings fill the page aries ripping pisces rage overflowing not controlling aphrodisiac attacking the undertow far below you're falling further than you know you can't get hurt without good cause your foolishness reaps its own claws
0
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 9:17 PM UTC
Fluidity
Vanilla vowels and creamy colored consonants Naughty or nutty nouns of almonds, apples, apricots Aphrodisiac adjectives and very berry adverbs Passion fruit phrases pirouette like peaches in thought A pomegranate patter that pronounces a pronoun Or perhaps in veiled vines velvet verbs purr Wondrously whipped words of love Salacious sentences with strawberry stirred A mellowed musk melon of a metaphor A salubrious simile sits like a sapote crown Amorous alliterative adventures with romance and raisins An ooh la la of orange oomph onomatopoeic sounds An orchard of the alphabets in a fruity potpourri of speech A bearish pearish play and plum pun on words The language of love written with love In this hash mash bonhomie Valentine verse
0
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 8:56 AM UTC
A fruity poet potpourri of a Valentine's Verse
Harsh unyielding sunset, buries me against the page. I won't be lazing on a couch, left to rot and waste away. Wormy plush Berber carpet soft against the afternoon. Debts are pile high and the company picnic is this June. The pages are vellum paper covered in ancient Egyptian script. I've loved you methodically ever since we met inside that crypt. The dregs brings me solemn hope that one day we'll breakthrough. Works calling in on Sunday for some overtime that's overdue. Its a 5 past 4 the glass lays arrhythmic, shattered at my feet. We found each other down beside the casket of the diseased. Heartfelt words never came out of a mouth that were so pure. How could you take me for interesting, in life I'm just a bore. Down. I've already ruined the letter meant from me to you. Life is not a fairy tale to broker marriage for us two. Bloodletting's an aphrodisiac to keep me at the brink. Why'd I write this silly thing when I spilled my drink.
0
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 2:55 AM UTC
Workaholic march
Oh Henry What a star you are! You always loved to be at the center of attention Your accomplishments in diplomacy are well known You brokered the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt You effected detente with the Soviet Union You opened up the way for Nixon in China You negated the Communist threat in Chile You said it yourself "Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.” You have admitted that mistakes were "Quite possibly made" By administrations in which you served. You have questioned whether, 30 years after the event, "Courts are the Appropriate means by which determination is made". And Cambodia Henry? You were complicit In the illegal carpet bombing of neutral Cambodia Which sowed the seeds for the murderous Pol *** regime Pinochet was indicted for human rights violations Diplomacy is a ***** business You did what you thought needed to be done You remain cold and secretive Do you have any remorse or regret? The old Russian proverb is wrong Henry Time does not heal all wounds There is blood on your hands
0
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
Henry Kissinger