"baldly" poems
I can imagine you as all the things I dream
Musky in your allure
Though no word is spoken
The intangible fragrance of sex
Wreaths your form
Temptress
You could be anything for me
Sometimes fate cuts true from the mists of dreams
And we wake not alone
Nor with a stranger
But given to our desires
You know the spell that summons me
And achingly
I rise for you
Sensing the alchemy
My inner beast seeks release
The I am
That I truly am
kiss me with lips eager for the hunger of my soul
My eyes gleam at the thought of you
Baldly nude
No this or that which needs removed
Circling you like prey
Hungry
My hands roaming free
Over the soft curves and yielding flesh
You display
Understanding my need
For you would possess me
Knowing my thoughts and my dreams
The feeling of heat
Your hands searching me too
In this dance you follow my lead
Giving is taking
And want is need
Your voice changing with the nearness of sex
Come
Share your demons with me
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC
I am trapped I have no escape.
My prisson's walls are very high, smooth and slippery so that I can't climb out of there.
There is no door and window here.
No one hears my cry.
My prayers are like sounds that bounce on the wall.
I'm just talking to myself.
God Himself seems to have turned his back on me.
It feels like I've offended Him so baldly, that He only means to destroy my life now.
It's over.
I don't know.... this is my frustration and bitterness at this momment.
I'd like to drop dead and not open my eyes into this world anymore.
Some people might cry for a little while, but they'll get over it.
The other thing that makes me feel hopeless, is that no matter how much I want death to come on me, I passed the time in my life in which suicide was really an option.
I have to keep living in this jail which is called life on earth.
I feel condemned.
When will I ever be able to close my eyes permanently and never wake up?
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
You met Janice
going to Baldly's groceries
to get a list of goods
for your mother
how goes it?
you asked
Gran tanned
my backside yesterday
for going
on the bomb site
when she had told me
not to
Janice said
sorry I got
you into trouble
you said
not your fault
I’m responsible
for my own actions
she said
I knew Gran
had told me
not to go
but I chose
to disobey
so paid the price
guess she's annoyed
with me too
you said
I didn't say
who was with me
she said
how did she find out ?
a neighbour saw me
and told her
I was on a bomb site
with other kids
and that was it
where you going?
you asked
got to buy
some cereals
for breakfast
she said
going to Baldly's groceries
but not to get any
with those
free toys inside
why's that?
Gran said it's a gimmick
how about going
to the cinema
this afternoon?
you asked
can't
she said
not allowed
after yesterday
she said
shame
you said
got a good western on
and the good guy
has two guns
and has a neat way
of going for his guns
which I want to copy
and practice
she looked sad
I'd liked to
she said
but maybe
another time
when I'm out
of the dog house
sorry
about the trouble
I've landed you in
you said
my fault
mea culpa
as they say
in mass
mea culpa ?
you said
it means my fault
in Latin
she said
I got my backside tanned
once for peeing
in my toy box
you said
she looked shocked
peed in your toy box?
yes I was trying
to impress a cousin
but he told on me
and that was it
I never told
on you yesterday
she said
thank you
you said
she kissed your cheek
best get on
with the shopping
she said
ok
you said
and so she went
in Baldy's with you
and did the shopping
and afterwards
you walked back
your separate ways
after a few words of farewell
and a wave of hands
hoping to see her
again sometime
after her punishment
for the petty crime.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 4:54 AM UTC
Pretentious prize life unwinding splendid endurants
Licentious Khidr illuminates in it neo verse lee
Like In tro vert eyes knott the sea spontaneously
Nature deceives one apple a time returned
When life giveth to empty pleas neatly
Even when don't make sense literally
Follow where poets pout analogy
About How the needy are poorly
Helped up off their knees and
Why wholesome matrimony
Is a holy introvert baldly
Hungry unquestioningly
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
If at the beginning of each life,
We had to write each thought and deed.
Record our very actions,
How we live, our moral creed.
How would every chapter start,
With each phase of life we live?
Would it match the Book God keeps,
In what we take, and what we give?
Will you have a section,
That's devoted to our Lord?
Or, will your book be about yourself?
Do you live by faith, or by the sword?
Does your book include much laughter,
Will it improve the world at all?
Can you say you picked those up,
That were shattered by a fall?
So many things to think about,
As you write about your life.
Steadfast in adversity,
Who do you turn to when in strife?
On these leaves you cannot lie.
As daily the pages mount.
Baldly stating all the facts,
Are your sins too high to count?
The Table Of Contents must be last,
For, it chronicles what's inside.
And, only the finale shows the world.
Of how you lived before you died.
When I write my final chapter,
I pray He tells me I'm not forsook.
Because my name, He too, wrote down.
Will He say that too, with your Life's Book?
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 6:39 PM UTC
A Chinese
lawyer he's
existent that
baldly wishes
his FoE
with big
kong will
only burgle
liars to
sell their
goods at
market if
he'd wise
the climate
by dawn
or else
heed abroad
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC