"bashfulness" poems
The body was given to us as impression of the gift of love.
We were conceived in love and born in order to love.
The Creator has given us through the body to the world.
We are therefore divine spark.
Let us look at other man as at indescribable gift.
Adam and Eve in paradise followed in the wake of ****** without shame.
Through the body we can touch the soul.
This ****** was
acceptance of a man with his limitations,
tangible form of love,
devotion to each other without mystery,
boundless openness,
freedom from lust of flesh.
Bashfulness has its roots in this original innocence.
Discretion to the body is inscribed in man.
Let us follow with pure look at man.
Purity is trying to get access through the body to soul and inside.
The physicality brings us
childish joy,
communion of souls,
inner enrichment,
sharing a beautiful relationship,
exploration of mystery of love.
Pure look at man is unconventional symphony of his gift of life.
Such scrutinizing is necessary for genuine love.
Beloved should first play simultaneously the same notes of feelings
before the symphony will flow with sexuality.
This presage will give your body speech.
Sexuality should not drown out the relationship with beloved,
it should build skyscrapers.
Sexuality is a gift, such as body and life.
Sexuality discovers endless wealth of lover.
****** expression of love is a confession of God's presence.
After all, God is love.
Only the perception of sexuality as gift saves from vulgarity.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
The girl i liked
she's the one with eyes starry
like the night sky
a mouth red and cherry-like
her smile
is the springtime rain
that gently awakens hundreds
of flowers
i don't know when exactly
i fell in love with her
the love germinated
perhaps concealed in the bashfulness
during high school
i knew it's love
when her head's on her desk
glasses on one side and sleepy-eyed
i couldn't help but take one more glance
my love for her
was hidden in a piece of eraser
in her little piece of bread
the feeling of liking her
is when i remember her smile
either with friends or alone
it is also after we parted ways
the feeling of missing her
couldn't forget and couldn't let go
she appears in my dream
running to me
the girl i liked
her name is so special
i still hope i can meet her
even if it's just one time
i will no longer hide
my love
i hope the thread of fate
pulls us together
love essentially
is the miracle of destiny
the girl i liked so much
her name contains neon and beverage
it's been inscribed here
since forever.
Jun 16, 2022
Jun 16, 2022 at 5:01 AM UTC
I see you
I've seen those eyes before
Drowning in patched-up paddle boats
With promises of tomorrow slipping down your face
Like saline shipwrecks fleeing harbor
And greeting the ocean floor with damaged handshakes
And now you're hopeless
Focused on could have been's and maybe one day's
Knowing one day
Swelled up storm clouds
Could slide through your cheek bones
Like sunshowers preventing your skyline parades
But I see you still searching for rainbows
Covering your face with two handfuls of imagination
Daydreaming of days where technicolor dreamcoats
Become wrapped around your soul
Like tuxedos for the bold
I've seen those arms before
Deafeated willow branches in the moonlight
Rebellious to rise upright
And now you're tired
Only fired up when your flesh
Converts to kindling on a campfire
Building sparks that shimmer for seconds
When your light deserves a lifetime
But I see you still inclined to shine brightly
Trying to assign meaning to your life with two inspired limbs
That can freely build bridges or climb mountaintops
Clinging onto hope with sturdy fists
Exploring the peaks of your potential
I've seen those legs before
Tattered toothpicks on prom night
Frozen in stage fright on the dance floor
Pressing muted prayers with each footstep
Into creaky floorboards waiting for silence to ensue
And now you're nervous
You're certain those two left feet can't possibly find the rhythm
So your shoes are the victims of bashfulness
Fearing one false step will uproot your jitterbugs
And place them alongside the butterflies in your stomach
But I see you still owning your insecurities
Because you know you're alive just fine
I see you
You are who I envisioned you to be
I see you
Brushstrokes of imperfections shaded in perfectly
I see you
It's more than just your typical hello
It's a phrase for all of us to speak solely with our souls
It can make you feel at home at the center of your bones
When all your hope is lost and there's no where left to go
So when I greet you
Listen carefully
This is a reminder that your eyes can be thunderous
Your arms can be victorious
And your legs can be ambitious
Your presence is necessary for this discussion
And your essence is accepted here
Let me speak your spirit into existence
Seeing is believing
And believe me
I see you
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
Voluntary abandonment of self
The offering
Surrendered, Often suffered
Daily suppression
Repressed depressions
The stimulating surge for another's light
The refuge and the motivator
Demonstratively strong, innate or acquired
Inner beauty enhanced through struggle
Outer beauty revealed
in the journey of each line and curve
Made better with time
Reemerging
Stepping into confidence
Unapologetic
Wisdom gained, lessons learned
Archived in her cerebrum repository
Self discovery, discernibly aware
With nothing to lose
Bashfulness dismissed
Enlivening pleasures
Guiding and coaxing another to please
Self satisfying if need
An awakened spirit rebounds
An eager voice is found
A woman
Over 40
Blazing anew.
© Tina Thompson
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC
The blue dew is raining in
roaring fury!
It's a love cascading violently
from ****** blue mountain,
inviting grit from ocean of
courage, to offload tons of
bashfulness overload.
I reach a dime with hazel gaze
to a blue-eyed goddess in the
love garden, popping ogle
champagne in blind lust to
******** world.
I grin!
I grin in summary epic!
The amorous picnic turn and caress
me in mercurial adjectives, embalm
me in emotional stiffness, aloof
from the real, unfrozen me into
insatiable insanity.
Not long, the craze evaporated
into eternity!
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 2:07 AM UTC
During moments I yearned for forests grown for me alone,
Caressing them in a dream,
I could sense the throbbing of the heart
Hidden beneath my ribs to bless my journey.
Summoning me with a pulse that he recognizes in me.
I heard the noise of abandoned smoke from a moment of care
Join with me,
Forcefully traversing desires to the hidden-most one.
My spirit swung toward him,
Creating a tingling
On lips that devour breaths alive.
I felt ashamed,
But the eye,
In moments—I scarcely know what to call them—that took me on another route
Toward the television, saw warplanes . . . spray death on them.
At that moment,
The fire of machine guns raked all the bodies,
And another fire raked my body when I trained my eye on him
Hesitantly inclining his head
Toward a shoulder unaccustomed to the secret of the stars of war
Or to insomnia.
Oh . . . . I leaned on it!
And when he caressed a dumbfounded person
I felt his fingers like coiling embers inside me.
Bashfulness seized the excuse this caress gave . . . and vanished,
Eliminating distance till the two of us were one.
And the eye—he moaned: May love not forgive her the eye—repeated another evasion
Toward a drizzle of men flung about in the air by just the rustling of a pilot penetrating a building
To fall on screens as the debris of breaking news.
But his breaths . . . shattering the still down of the cheek,
And turning their picture into mist as
Eddies of the screen’s corpses . . . varieties of death that they brought them.
The spirit that became a body,
The body that was sold for the sake of a touch,
The eye that was concealed in his image
And that approached the firebrand of conflagrations.
Everyone drawing close to everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone.
But the thunder of their machine guns splintered them:
Corpses piled on corpses,
I mean on me,
The eyes of those in it were extinguished.
They slept in a trench of silence.
My eyes’ lids parted in a wakefulness obsessed with them.
I rose … and embraced the chill
That the screens brought me in commemoration of Stalingrad.
………………………………
Translated by William Hutchins
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
they mumble -
stifled laughs from the room next door,
but they aren't really happy the way that we are
because her heart doesn't bleed when he isn't by her side
and she kissed another man last night,
not I;
my lips have been yours for 113 days...
and I couldn't count all of the ways I smile
simply from your presence;
there is a bashfulness about myself when you enter the room
and a sigh of relief as we close our eyes together
at the end of a long day,
and it's all teeth from ear to ear, I swear,
when we're together.
/
but lying in bed tonight I don't feel the comfort of you by my side,
rather a weight, extreme pressure as if I'm being pushed...
these words swim through each vessel in my brain before pacing upon my tongue,
all night they pace, as my chest becomes tighter and your touch becomes colder...
when my eyes finally rest I dream of elephants on stilts;
that is my problems which should not grow evidently finding somehow to,
and a mockingbird sobbing, but how do I know that the tears are true?
I once, not long ago at all, longed for the touch that is making me ill,
for the laughter that is turning me bitter,
for the eyes that are making me weep...
no, it is not your mouth that makes me weep, not the hateful language, nor hurtful accusations;
rather, it's how you must see me to allow those notions cross your mind let alone to speak them aloud,
and with such fury...
/
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
**gingerly on the knife-point of a problem
my inflated ego slowly was punctured
i heard the hiss of its demystification
in that constricted moment of revelation
a moment that enthused about the demise
of my avid hallucination now laid bare
salvation, the voice of naked truths chanted
is neither in the fig leaves nor in bashfulness
and the humming monotone of desperation
is a boost to candid inactivity and stillness
it is in such big-bore moments that we of
puerile yearnings recognize our childishness
a voice told me to stop tempting fate forthwith
for in truth i was a child with a dangerous toy
and only pampered tutors could stay the course**
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC
I slide into your eyes, and wonder just how long you will permit me to stay there.
Your pupils trace the bases of
Craving
Braving across my face
And I wonder if you can feel the pace in which the taste of you runs through the recollection section of my dome
And I wonder if the flare behind the glare of your stare is enough to slide you
Home.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
I let my guard down
and showed him my skin
full of freckles
I let him connect the dots
creating constellations
each with a story
that he narrated
I let my guard down
and showed him my flaws
galactic bruises
thanks to my clumsiness
and let him float in each one
marveling at the purple and blue
I let my guard down
and showed him my bashfulness
as it colored my pale cheeks red
and imprinted goosebumps
everywhere...
I let my guard down
and showed him the ways
I like to sin..
having my fuzz stand in salutation
I let my guard down
and showed him the other side of me
the one basks in the nature of things
naked, bursting with energy of the sun
emitting sultry rays that
brighten his eyes in astonishment
I let my guard down
and showed him
myself
full fledged
imperfection
put together in a beautiful way
I let my guard down
and showed him how my piercing eyes
move waves of emotions
in his gut
I let my guard down
and waited to see
how he will
enjoy such
a mystery
feeding
my kind of
curiosity
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
Every time
you run your hands
across my body
you melt a layer
of bashfulness
to reach
my raw core
that one
that roars
with you
&
for
you
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 6:43 AM UTC
Concrete walls, floors, and ceilings solo like solitaire is how I'm feeling my mind locked up solitude so they can
so they can't hear me. Tho they feel my heart beat deep beneath the fears that scare me
How dare me? How dare I live life long and true hoping for paradise.
I live my life watched my sacred eyes, they say they've lived through pain but care they bare mines.
Trial after trial, files document mines, Minds pill under the facts after the fact the truth are lies, they live under my light dim lights never shine, that’s fine a light is bright, but that too will die, closed in cloths, wrapped in shame, eyes are crazed but mine are sane ... The past haunts us all but this my battle, scars build on top of scars, pain of the past building a plethora of burdens.... This isn’t just a shame, this game... The game we all play, called life
This game called life but there are no resets or retries, if it gets real and you down to ride, then you down to die, because bullets have no name, and your clock is what they're trying to strike. Your time is the biggest lie, because all you know is a fraction growth human beings are starting to show. All you know is the space where your mind lies, but don’t forget you mind lies. Deceived by your own perception, relieved by hoes affection this deception runs deeper than a touchdown pass, and no matter how many Hail Mary’s you say. You may drop the ball and throw it away. Regress to a place you've already been take a step back and try it again
So listen my faired friend , in life we can hold hands but walking by side to side , not living through others eyes, my life is so magnetized , try not to be compromised , you see the struggle from far , don’t make it seem like your blind,
Take a breath .. Let us all relieve stress... Don't Call it a big step.. For us all ; we need help... Life is just a war... For war begets war... But understand my man, this is all a plan to cost more... If I’m struggling and I’m tumbling, just reach out or scream and shout but life is crazy no one can play me, I’m no console, put the games way please...
This is my; fraction of classlessness; or my small ghetto passion for bashfulness... Look out your tunnel vision and see the world, not all are rich not all have girls not all have the smarts not all seem to shine cause in this crazy world MANY PEOPLE ARE BLIND.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
I always wonder if I am ever going to be reminded
or forgotten between those beautiful leafs
maybe someday we'll all forgot everything
everything that seems important today
will be useless and irrelevant
my ribs hurts
as much as that afternoon
when you said you felt so blue
*"you just can't stop thinking about it
you can't help your selfishness
you can't stop shattering this love
but I know someday we'll be colliding ourselves
into each other's paths"*
now I'm full of bashfulness
feeling so small
I'd like to take you back
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 4:14 AM UTC
Life as a high school wallflower served me
without any budding female friendships
until lo…
a gent tulle mandate from my late mother uprooted me
from mine kempf familiar bedrock level road terrain
which venue offered a groundswell
to blossom forth into golden sterling resplendent rod
of natural equipoise (this an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle improvisational swinging motions
unchained from the moors of formality
and lit figurative saint elmo’s sesame street fiery dance
allowing, enabling and providing this shy awkward self
during his young adulthood
to cast away four ever
thy self embroidered handsome
straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzing like a yellow jacket
thus liberating spontaneity that je nais sais quoi joie vivre
clamoring headlong toward venus
from healthy pistil packing overflowing bin
laden well nigh testosterone erupting *****
toward opposite gender
whereby bravado donned as key
to *** field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally rooted rutting squeal!
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
Do you feel the desert sun
As it pulls
All the moisture from your skin
You barter for each breath
Lest it escape between your lips
There is smoke in the night
It stings your eyes
Full bodied in your chest
The sand is warm between your toes
It burns with the heat of the day
Although the sun
Barely laid to rest
In her bashfulness
Looking for her stamina
To wear tomorrow
One would not think
Gravity would pull so hard
It does not seem fair
When the stars
Look so beautiful
Call so close
I shudder in the dunes
Oh that dreams were a grain of sand
That they were as weightless
It is not such
I cannot bury the tears
Even still they fall into the earth
A kiss that becomes a vapor
I will water the earth
Pouring into her
My pores vacant
My spirit follows
She makes me toil
I am not above my humanity
It humbles me
Staircase of pride
Stumbling block
How does one face a new day
I bite my tongue
To spit in the face of destiny
Is a fools errand
Yet she has done me no favors
I owe her no respect
A token slipped between hand
A bet and a wager
That will not be paid
Unless blood is spilt
Earth claims all, as she bore all
Sand in the desert, burying secrets
The ground knows so much
She does not taste
But swallows up
She is a scholar of sinners
Outlasting the shudders of your spine
Patient is she
It costs her nothing to wait
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
My bed sheets remain the same
With the tainted love stained on white roses
With the scent of skin fusing and hopes colliding
All for the pleasure of sweet surrenders
To my divan where you used to breathe in
Silence of exhaling roars
To my pillowcase trapped forever
Deep groans that left glorious scars
Bashfulness banished off the frame
Rolling strengths into the threads
Savoring the agony of loud throbs
Whispering my name to depth
For the love that is lost
For the love that never fades away
For the love that wanders every day
To my bed linens carved to eternity
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
Am I alive or just breathing in a dead corpse,
The silence is where my heart use to be,
God coming through for me,
Harvested the honey tree,
O! How I was just a simpleton to everyone's superiority
In bashfulness and disloyalty,
But I'm me,
What about you,
Like what about you,
I don't like you,
You didn't believe in me when I was kicked down on the
Ground with a hundred feet stomping me,
Doing things for myself is always the best company,
I wondered what I would've done if I hadn't been just doing
Things for me,
It's the best cup of tea,
That myself gave to me ....... of that makes any sense,
I don't know maybe this is my cure after all.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Drag my fears to altar
Sacrificing sleep to make peace
With shadows dancing on the walls
Penance is a costly coin
I count sins like pennies in a jar
Plunking copper in vain
In a well that has not run dry
A well that knows nothing of my sins
No knowledge of my wishes
My temple is crumbling
Age has never met mercy
Time's cohorts know no pity
These pillars hold up shambles of a roof
Holding together is a dry hope for heavy skies
Will you lay with me
On the coolness of the stone
When the final hour awakens
Creeping in to steal the heat of your skin
Finding bashfulness looking upon the stars
This is the same sky
I see in the dark part of your eyes
I have longed for these constellations an eon and a half
Concrete in my reasoning
A stone knife on a stone table
The world is not as you know her
Or as she seems
Her spinning does not dizzy you
You crave stability
Do not leave footprints in the sand
This incense is unburnt in my lungs
Light me up once again
Can I unbreathe your memory
To unlearn threads
Unwound in my tapestries
I wait, unpatiently
For your silken voice to whisper
"Come to the light"
Promises whispered in the dark
Kept beneath the moon
Rafters of my temple an accord
The trembling of my foundation will not strike
You cannot move a stone mind
As all things are made
They can be undone
Your apologies sway them not
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 12:24 AM UTC
He
Is a semi-
Honest
Man
His eyes
Squint when
He smiles
When he laughs
When he
Cries
Fortune has
Not been kind
To Him for
Fortune can
Only be kind to
So many
Balance was
Never His
Strong-suit
A dead artist
He pleaded with
The Muses but
Received nothing
His charcoal pencil has
Dulled, his imagination waned
But his energy for
Life still holds true
The signs show
In the bashfulness of his
Generosity and anger
Disappointment has a
Color and
It is red
There are a million
Things I could write
About my father
But
The line is still loose
I will wait
Till it gets tighter
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 2:09 PM UTC
In recent effents. An undurled experience release a revelation that have reptured my previously durable ambitions.
A free thinkng fantasy. Was to have a voice that could move souls in the way some have noutured mine.
Alas on an ordinary unrepressed weekday I find myself ****** in a climactic judgement day for my previously displayed visions.
I found myself arounded by poetential assistants to finally lighting the spark that may lead to these fantasies to gainly a lively tone.
Musitions and I came together in a spontaneous gathering of the subjected topics being discussed and performed in a casual tone.
While the turn strummed their beat up six strings i merely nodded my head and let the music claim my conciousness. A farmiliar and personally well admired tune began playing. One of the gentlemen asked if I know the lyrical content of the contempory composition. After I informed him that I did the road of the dreamroad was about to split and i would make the pivitol turn through audition now. I was struck with overwhelming bashfulness and nervy contraction. It was time.
I took all the courage I had left. And rattled the shell of the cowardous creative chartacter who lives within me, and I sang. I sang as clearly and well as I possibly could. I gave a performance of my ambitious alter ego that even I had not seen.
After the song came to a close, andd my heaet returned to place from my throat. I recieved a nonchealaunt response to this desperately hopeful side. "You didn't like, sing in a choir or anything did you?" I answered him.... "no"..... The other judge drew back the curtains and the question was answered, and it was preceeded with a chuckle, and it wss all finished with a "we can tell."
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
you're so shy
you're so coy
you're a very timid boy
why so shy
why so coy
I know you like me
timid boy
drop your bashfulness
and you will see
all your dreams of love
will become an actuality
timid boy
you'll never be lonely
so find the nerve
to approach me
why so shy
why so coy
I know you like me
timid boy
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
The leaves are rustling
And the trees are bustling
And the rain is falling
Yet here I am thinking of you
Dreaming of something tender
A moment of sweet surrender
Where I offer myself completely
To your every strange desire
Soft skin, pale with lust
Tainted hearts clogged with rust
Lace draped across the nape
Of your delicate neck perfectly
The sight of you makes me weak
Acts deemed depraved I find
Beautiful through your passion
It strikes me down to nothing
It cuts me deep, left bleeding
Pouring out with boyish humility
A bashfulness unmeasured before
But unrelenting I indulge fearlessly
For what have I got to lose
I am already destroyed and broken
By simply being in your presence
Wounded by your unapologetic allure
A pathetic puppy dog whimpering
For your attention and love
Strike dear mistress, do your worst
Use me up and throw me away
A fate I'd serve obediently, endlessly
Your slave to order around
To worship you at your high heeled foot
Exposed, waiting to be dominated
Dying to be wasted off your scorn
Intoxicated by your perfect body
Delirious, drugged, begging for more
Let me overdose on your sensuality
A fine death by me, a perfect end
Without hesitation I'll die right here
Your body my tomb, I'll reside forever.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
Contemplating marriage,
Among other things.
The thought of having someone beside me
Whose completely, consistently, confidently
By my side for the majority of the day
Is exciting.
Especially one such as myself,
One whose mind is filled with consternation
And an inability to assauge inaction.
Something as simple as holding hands
And introducing her to several of my favourite bands;
Strolling along the sands,
Traveling the world and all its lands.
Boys around me complain at the thought of being cuffed,
But I'd consider myself chuffed --
Seeing a mutual love that wasn't bluffed,
Teasing her with little jokes as she huffed and puffed.
Only having met you for several moments yesterday,
The conversation having begun with something similar to a, "Hey."
Your friend Jude seemed to keep you at bay,
A bashfulness overcoming you, something you couldn't allay.
If I may,
You reminded me so much of Shae.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
all i wanted was to lie in a pool of sunshine
so hot i could barely breathe, dream or think
ripping them away like crunchy autumn leaves
falling from trees in gusts of strong winds
i wanted to be engulfed in a hot pool
so hot i have difficulty breathing
and my clothes get covered in sweat
this uncomfortable heat and brightness
cruel in its desensitization but also
a mercy for my brain which churns and pivots
bouncing around thoughts and dreams which
make me wish for sleep and then hate sleep
wish i could run run and lie in pools of
molten sunshine burning my skin to the bones
so i can perhaps breathe for five minutes
without a weight on my chest
a crick in my neck tightness in my back
surprising liquid on my face
where does it come from?
what is its purpose?
where does it go?
all evaporate in this stupid pool of garbage
sunshine and i
i can pretend my heart does not beat blood
my presence matters
i am not sad
not contemplating numerous ways to die
in the spaces between my thoughts and dreams
in my thoughts and dreams
i remember and i forget hoping
hope kills and love dies
belief lies and relationships burn
a hollowness a cavity
there is sadness and there is a rhythm
but i
do not remember the paths i tread
following these endless roads to that rhythm
i once had
where is it now?
what is its purpose?
where does it go?
i lie in embarassment and bashfulness
dance around to pretend that love never dies
relationships soothe and hope survives
but in that pool of sunshine
half-truths and half-lies
concepts of gray do not exist in
pure bright white blue
hotness
so i wanted to burn for a bit
let my bones get some air
so my tears can evaporate
the moment they escape
so i can continue saying
my heart does not feel
my heart does not exist
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
I cannot look into eyes
Not out of bashfulness
The iris tells no lies
Staring into the color
I see the stories:
A journey of chaos
A past of conflict
A presence of confusion
I cannot look into eyes
Because they never lie
Nov 29, 2021
Nov 29, 2021 at 3:48 PM UTC