"assuaging" poems
armed and dangerous, 20 oz. of hot hot coffee, tablet on lap,
sitting on the deck overlooking the bay, and once again,
unusual for me, I am touched by the sanctity of the serenity
pervading, assuaging, by waves just loud enough to sway to,
the off/on chatter of the early bird's convocation of the morning's
blessing, have survived another night to greet greatly the outlines
of loveliness in the all~of~surroundings, which hacks my brain,
for I am by forty years of habitation more accustomed to a rough and tumble city boy trader, screamer of:
buy/sell/straddle/strangle/crush/kill/mercilessness, no quarter,
no mindfulness in me naturally, until nature robs my tools of
denial, and I smell the sanctity of fresh sheets laid on bed, the
warmed blood, vein coursing, suggesting just listen, listen,
the hot shower water eradicating the prior day's sinfulness,
the highly valued sensations of sensational emptiness, and
words drifting from the surround movie theater of a vista beloved,
coming for to fill and fulfill this always~in~mourning soul by the
overhauling of a crisp, cleansing day break
I, familiar with notions of perpetuity, and at best, conceptual, though
my mind permits a drift to the thoughtfulness that this place, this moment, this performance art of spectacular breathing of another
dawning day, after thousands upon thousand of its predecessors,
and the possibility, not remote, but not promised, to anyone, just may
occur at least once more, and one must learn contentment from but
that idea, and sip the cooling dregs of coffee, the sounds of human
interference, car door slamming, the heaving breathing of morning joggers, the wind rising, the white caps snapping, precursors and
signs that natural perfection is never permanent, always in transition,
and a whispery smile crosses my cheeks, as a silly thought invades,
nature is so very human~like and yet, immortal…
composed between 6:30 and 8:30 am this day
Wed Aug 20 twenty twenty-five
Silver Beach
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
Our summer fellowships are over! We learned a lot - for instance - how summer’s a lot less fun when you’re hemmed-up, inside working. I mean, we preesh’d the clinical experience, the learning, and especially how good these fellowships will look on our med-school applications - seriously - but there were a hundred rules - aren’t rules incompatible with summer?
Hmm, Ok, let’s see, something poetic..
As the summer sun's blistering radiance waned, shadows,
muscled by sunrays to the marginal edges and corners,
gradually spread, like water - soothing, lenifying and assuaging
simmered nerves with their refreshing, canopied touch.
If sunlight scorched with heat, twilight soothed and gentled,
while varnishing, the dimming world with rainbow, event-horizons,
larger, more inventive, colorful and glorious than any mere mortal art.
Night gradually squeezed, unseen, through those vivid sunset cracks,
and refreshing night-air, drawn in by the last, escaping updrafts of heat,
rustled cooling relief to weary workers seeking the solace of evening and home.
back to unpoetic realities..
When work was finished, we’d retreat from the heat, racing up to the rooftop pool, like two happy porpoises out of school.
Whoever invented poolside food delivery, should win the Nobel Prize for ‘thank you very much.’ We wouldn’t go back to our rooms until it was dark and we’d started to prune.
Now, we’ve a month to relax before our Junior year begins. We got letters from Yale that said, “As upperclassmen..” “Upperclassmen!” We shouted as we danced in hand-holding circles, singing, “Upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen. upperclassmen.”
We’ve grown so much at Yale.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
I provoke the wind
in a dialect shared with him
and him alone.
He whispers assent,
as assuaging liquid draughts
glance my submissive frame.
A desolate wanderer,
incising the burdensome night.
Accompanied by none corporeal,
I prowl satin fields,
illuminated by Luna
and Saturn, her amber consort.
©Thomas Gabriel
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 10:59 AM UTC
Sean, crystal blue
Sean, misty hue
Sean, delicate dew
Sean, eternal muse
fragrant than frankincense
assuaging than myrrh
Dearer than gold.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
.
*mourning dove coos echo
across dawn’s dappled silence--
only these quiet pauses of breath
hush the dew droplets passive trickle
poignant traces of a solacing gravity
seep down through fogged portals,
cascading earthward from above
a symphony of pining pleas
from dew impearled wild feathers
a simple prayer of hope--
to be held
in breathless warmth,
in the amity .
of compassionate comfort,
nestled intimately
beneath another’s assuaging wing*
© wild is the wind
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
his voice beguiles me, weakening me
in whispered warmth of breath, fingers
trace trembled want of hungry lips
tasting me...
Closing my eyes; I arch into need of
his touch, his voice of seduction breathes
against skin, teasing me
licking my tremors...
I moan in ache, my ripple upon his tongue,
my essence rises lingering within his mouth;
roughly kissing me and I kneel before him,
taking him in slowly suckling; tasting him tip
to pearls licking his veined pendulum swirling
in warmth, vigorously in out
loving his shudder...
he whispers as his fingers tenderly tweak ******
softly, inebriating my senses; aroused horniness,
entering my paradise, firmness weaves flesh in
breathless swells, igniting our twine; like tongue
licking heat of mouth
pulsing in wetness...
searing between open thighs, I ache for his plunge
engraving me, knotted within his arch; deluged in
fluidities flush as lips brush, tongue trails taut nips,
I blush beneath his fiery breath, still teasing
rocked to my foundation...
unraveling me in utter passion, our bodies aching;
assuaging yearn, calming quivers in wet want;
shuddering each abraded ****** loving its aftertaste
in trembled release enlivening; our lust still entwined
within wet ecstasy...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
his mouth an infusion of lust,
eagerly impinges; suckling,
tasting as a kitten to milk.
playing in titillating wetness;
sliding tongue over fevered
flesh, leaving me blushed.
arched in desire…
laid back; glaze eyed,
licking delicacy of my essence ~
as I moan sweet and primal.
savoring labials to **** entering
sharp tongued cove of pleasure
widening thighs inch by inch.
our bodies immerge ******* hips
slow dips, locking lips muffling
sighs; drenching aches in rhythm.
a symphony of wood, soaked
tangled sheets losing ourselves
in ecstasies kiss; assuaging
hungered ***** unleashed
greed explodes; drenched in
trembling aches as we bend
into supplication of us.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***
She moves her entire form
Across the room
pushing solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging her intent.
Retreating nine steps
To gather
Her acumen in dripping her clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged
His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli - clenched
resonates as her own.
Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.
She tastes his pulse
Derma puckering sweat globules
Redolent aeriform vapor corpuscles
declaring his need.
Fingers supporting her upper weight
she glides - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet
Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape
Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders
Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft
Kneeling
Primed
Proud
She flicks the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
She renders garment to puddle
half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette
Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
Iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal
Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline inoculation.
Latent dribble invokes tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
frozen ass’s *****
their frozen assets
assimilating accountants
asphyxiated by Asperger’s
arranging orangutans
assuaging appetites
all the while
alone
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Funny how our rolling emotions inside
Can be calmed by the thundering storm outside
A wide and grey stretching sky
Can bring out a deeper sigh
The sky has sent her haunted kiss
Persuading all to reminisce
Still and quiet, now eerie silent
The air so still it's almost violent
Bleak sky dark and calming
Strangely so inviting
Lullaby-ing my soul to quiet
Assuaging all that was in riot
I can be tranquil like the sky
I'll sing myself a lullaby
And Hushabye these cares away
And me and mine will sway away
I'll sing a soft slow song
We'll grow together strong
The wind and rain will pitter pat
Hail and puddles and all of that
Babe soon to be in arms
Plus two wild'uns that run
My own small little charms
We've only just begun
Little feet splash in the puddles
Claps of thunder draw out delight
Inside me baby cuddles
Soon we'll all meet this heaven's sight
Jul 12, 2024
Jul 12, 2024 at 7:49 PM UTC
i.
I canst not thanketh thee enough, for assuaging mine pang's
On earth, in heaven, on the dwarf planet's, in thy kiss of leaven;
When thou art down, I'll taketh thine frown, when broken, when hopeless, I shalt giveth thee mine own gladness; lifting thy smile.
ii.
In cities, in town's, aloft the skies, on the ground, in the open, in the wild, cadmium yellow floret's, mine Asian child, in thy eye's;
In thy laugh, passed the noise, of hellish mess, passed the pain's, madness and stress; I shalt always be by thy waistside, mine pet.
iii.
In ourn life, and beyond ourn death's, we shalt meeteth at the place of holiness, tis not a place sculpted by hand's of men;
Tis a place of dominion's and kingdom's. Inside God's house wherein we shalt be in peace, the angel's shalt singeth, halo sleep.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl jane Nagley (Pookie) dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
The natural attribute of my inquiring intuition
Coerced me to tread passionately in the wake
Of this provocatively, entertaining creature
To analyze the abstract desires of her mind
She peeks just up over her lovely shoulder
Capturing the dazzling quality of my image
From the corner of her harlequin green eyes
As she licks her lips insatiably with hunger
Ultimately this woman approached me fearlessly
Exuding the very spark of unmistakable attraction
She then began stroking her fingers through my hair
Caressing my face with her assuaging touch of heaven
Softly rubbing my chest while whispering risque enigmas of pleasure
Oh, how I could feel the air of her pacifying breath blowing in my ear
While her alluring cave of magic chafed against my yearning serpent
Not one word was spoken for she could sense my crave to fornicate
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 4:53 PM UTC
“Swallowing Pearls and Lace”
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***
I moved my entire form
Across the room
Pushing his solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging my intent.
Retreating nine steps
To gather
my acumen in dripping my clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged
His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli –
Clenched -
resonates as my own.
Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.
I taste his pulse
Derma puckering sweat
Redolent vapor
Knotting between each pore – skin taut
declaring his need.
Fingers supporting my upper weight
I glide - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet
Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape
Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders
Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft
Kneeling
Primed
Proud
I flick the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
rendering garment to puddle
half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette
Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
His iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal
Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline
Latent dribble invokes my tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
his movement against me
rocks me within the array of his
tease
that wet entangled embrace
delicate; deep within our elation,
unraveling my entirety as I bend
in the arch of his chivalry
assuaging me...
In the breath of his passionate
lips; tasting, leaving scorching
trails against hardened *******
I blushed...
and he licked each bud, tongue
tipped flutters, heated breath,
poised beneath bulge; awaiting
slow quick dips coaxing, labials
welcome lips open
appeasing me in rages of his
passion, aching for release;
urging his yearn with each dip
wet of want screams in euphoria,
piercing, entwining as I lay before
him spent naked exposed to
pleasures unknown
awakening our lust, rocking me
within loves breathless embrace
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:23 PM UTC
let out into some miniscule town
by someone else's proportionality,
here is always smaller than somewhere
bigger. there are always more people
somewhere else. there are less people
hiding, like me. and i'm left convinced
still, no matter the permanence of what
i'd say or you'd feel, you'll find someone
new and better, or old and more
familiar (this keeps happening,
the same patterns repeat, the inside
of my head reels). so, don't bother
assuaging my fears. somehow,
by this point, they are mostly what
compose me. i'll fall apart with or
without them. with or without you.
it all hurts.
and i can't keep it together.
not today. i burnt my self-esteem, by
my own spark. everything tore me
apart. a jigsaw puzzle, returned to pieces.
but i don't fit: not into anyone's plan.
not into any social hierarchy. not
into my own palm. i'll let you cut off
chunks of me, let you cram me into
where you think i should fit. sure.
but you might not allay my definitions.
i'm sorry.
spelt out s-a-d, i'll collapse into the
same heap. you can make me happy
for a day (or four years). sure.
(but it's no good, if i still hate me.)
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
Among mankind's best—
Brave, courageous
Heroes who do no harm
Assuaging our fear
With fellow feeling and care
Amidst viral strains' stealthy swarm
Among mankind's worst—
Mean, dastardly
Zeros who do know harm
Stoking pandemic fear
Scamming the unsuspecting ear
With a smiling swindler's charm
Heroes & Zeros
Best and worst of mankind—
What a dichotomy!
We'll keep hoping instead
For a bright future ahead
Daily coping with anxiety
© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:47 PM UTC
Today I realized
How very much
I need you
When I am afraid
You refuse to leave my side
Simple proximity defuses my fear
Reassuring me when you are near
Our minds so alike
Stubborn, fierce, humorous and protective
When my words seem incomplete
You finish my thought
Arguing for me
You are my partner
My friend
So warm is your skin on mine
Flesh intertwined
Sometimes I stumble and fall
You catch me
Support me
You're there through it all
Thank you for making me feel safe my dear
For caring and understanding
Being the awful boy I cherish
For wiping away my tears
And somehow assuaging my fears
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC
Vultures would aim at the passage of children
they’d dive beneath garments and masks and myths
like you, they want truth, in its distant quarry
cut from loose disguise and weak belief
Yet, you are not content in the mind of a miner
to dig like a spear for warmth behind the armor
And when you have found some soft place of pleasure
You cant help but feel you’ve crawled back to the womb
so you won’t swoop down and peck the eyes of new life
for fear that in assuaging your hunger
you’re somehow giving in to the binds
of something unbirthed, primitive, weaker
I just laugh when you ask why
you’re eating scraps that are no more
then what clumsy vultures have dropped in flight
gristle that even the ants ignore
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
Black Friday sales and Christmas deals;
Hot on the next bargain’s trail,
Itching to fill the void the heart feels.
Transactions and agreements,
Trappings, false achievements.
Welcome to the era of the shopping mall;
This is where your dreams hop off to die,
This is their final port of call.
Everything and everyone is a commodity;
Barcoded, plastic-wrapped merchandise,
Categorisation for you and your progeny.
If money doesn’t germinate from its seed,
If it does not clothe and feed,
Then it is not something we need.
We are a philistine’s wet dream.
We strive to achieve the American scheme;
Delusional and overworked, about to scream,
Believing all of us can be billionaires forever,
As the planet grows hungry and lean.
Or, believing some deserve yachts and limousines,
That some should starve,
Whilst others gorge themselves on fine cuisines.
Believing that society should be divided in layers,
Assuaging our guilt with thoughts and prayers,
When instead, we could have just refrained from leaving others behind.
When everything becomes a commodity,
Art for the sake of making it becomes an oddity.
Poets retire their pens,
And painters put down their brushes -
Apathy and despair fog the lands,
Like irradiated wind corrupting everything it touches.
Singers go quiet, actors go numb;
Musicians will riot, orators will be struck dumb.
When our own turn on us, tell us to get “a real job”,
When “job creators” are done calling us “lazy slobs”,
None of us will be around to point out the irony.
We will go extinct, a dying breed, finally gone;
Life will be succinct, the greedy will have won.
Slay your kings and queens, or remain a pawn.
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 10:10 AM UTC
Dear God, I know I'm in love
With you, the girl who I know I can't love
The mere prospect of which tears my heart
To more pieces that all of DG could count
A billion, a trillion, more than could be by in a lifetime
And yet my heart bursts time and again
Even though Delta Gammas are fun and sweet
You're the best my heart beat gets
Beat in and beat out, between the impulses my heart gives out
I can't but help to see your face
Written across my thoughts and dreams
And hear your words echoing in my ears
Keeping my being stuck to you
Assuaging my fears that my mind had lost you and who
I am so wrongly devoted to
And here I am stuck writing
Drunk poems to you or whatever image you exude
Drinking to drink, and to help me tell the beauty of you
Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:47 PM UTC
difficulties ascertain the tremor
of the displaced stone in the corner:
stones have truth, and life so much the not, like the lilt of mendaciloquence
dispersing in a dearth home—
everything else is rinsed,
assuaging the dermis that continually aches forever the thorn of a rose ripened,
just as jazz is as always the music listened to by fellows hungry for Earth.
the wind blows spindrift past
our opened window when we slept next
to the churning sea. shadows renaming space: elegies of old metal rusting
seeking more than what silence provides.
roads confused to a kink. furniture kites along with it, a toppled light like sinking the fruit deep into the hands of a river.
our flights become only so heavy
when we become wary of the love we
drag along. when we the small of our
back and the bony protrusions of arched
bodies become
aware of the detritus. when blades
of grass rear weight of the air bracing
for the fall.
our flights become only so heavy
when we look back at our point
of departures. our spanked curve
of trajectories, permutations of
open doors trying to do away
syncopated tapestries anchoring
our dripping bodies wet with what
the snow has lent our
numeral summers—
forget.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC
We are barely covered
The *** is boiling over
Forest fires are raging
For hours, here I've hovered
With my lucky clover
Blessed and bald and aging
Let's open up the cupboard
Turn the bottle over
Our fears to start assuaging
Against these woes we'll shove hard
Until we start to sober
And dread commences caging
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
the ghosts of many days.
here are the many eyes insidiously cutting through insides, gutting them out of their poisons and their moribund steps, assuaging none.
before the step was the flesh,
and before flesh was the emptiness,
keen with its marble eyes
like sizing down an already
thwarted opponent.
these pallid-faced buildings
peer through the sleepless concrete
like fathers searching for children.
like crows scavenging for
truths behind myriad lies of death.
here comes the marauder thieving
again, the gutter's chagrin.
underneath stirs the deathly
**** of rats, the deep inset
of petrichor hiding behind
the overcast of a death foretold.
streets continue to emblazon
their nameless turns:
George Street bayoneting through
Pitt as a ragamuffin dog slithers
past Castlereagh, scrounging for
bones with forgotten pains.
the ghosts of many days
weaving the loom of sky
tender with sound of labyrinthine
flapping through the hollow
of dawn as my fingers
clash in battle, rearing this nailed triumph.
apparitions tracking me down,
chasing me with vivid light
through uneventful avenues
forking without meaning
past the hammered cinders,
away from the frozen barricades
in stiffening cold,
ghosts of many days
coming back with unprompted tongues
and their pertinacious susurrus.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC