"beconing" poems
Love thy neighbour, so the Bible says
But dont covet his wife it will get you in strife!
Don't look at her body when she calls
Ignore her curves and her beconing calls
Your wife suggested you helped her out
Does she really now what its about?
That day you called when he was out
It wasn't those tools it was all about
All so innocent till she touched your chest
It went downhill and then to bed
A frantic tryst one afternoon
Cries off passion and moans were heard
Then hubby came home and saw you there
The game was up amongst other things
Two marriages ruined and a family split
All for the sake of a bit of "it"
For the wife had watched and often seen
The postman or the huge marine
She had plans all her own
And saw the means to make them so
Sow the seed and watch it grow
A perfect plan to get divorced
All she needed to pull it off
Was for them to be caught
A perfect plot
She hadn't planned on the neighbours anger
When he saw another bang her
So both barells he loosed into them
And sent upstate for ****** two
Far more than her plan had ever required
And now no alimony as hubby died!!
So love thy neighbour is all well and good
Just don't get caught if your stupid enough!
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
Rain is refreshing in a strange, backward way. It shocks you out of a deep, prolific lapse of participation in reality and reminds you that you’re still here. You’re still corporeal, tangible, you can feel and you can decide. But rain is still rain. It can be cold and unpleasant to be faced with, or it can be warm and welcoming. Beconing you forth to splash and smile in the reality you forgot still applied to you.
I left behind the idea of full, around the clock consciousness during my last frigid thunderstorm. I realized, during a session already dedicated to realizations, how exhausting it was trying to live my reality to its current extent. How frustrating and soul-crushing it is to have the ambition you truly believed in and planned to embark upon, forgone by the limits of a situation you have no control over. I kept a small jar of ideas and plans in the very back corner of my closet. They were safe, they couldn’t be taken out back and shot nor could they be taunted and destroyed from the inside out. When I was cornered in my intruded closet, when I was taken by the collar and shaken for my truth, they were found. Both above-mentioned circumstances played out shortly but in the opposite order. That’s when it began to rain.
I decided on an alternative: selective awareness. I keep myself alive only feeling and participating when the rain is tepid and pleasant. When I feel the temperature beginning to drop, I fall back asleep, floating through lull and lash, until the sun comes to change the course of my simulation. For days, all I will see is fog. I’m lost and isolated, but that lack of direction comes with an onset of contentedness. There is no one who can see me wandering through a deluded course I have set for myself. I don’t know where I’m walking, I don’t know what’s in front of me, so the warm rain will give me a pleasant surprise as it melts away the fog and gives me hope for sustainable warmth.
The cloudiness that lingers in my head, even when I’m experiencing kindness and sensitivity, reminds me that my effort to make my reality more livable is as viable as staying completely shrouded in fog until I wander off the edge of a cliff. Eventually, as I age out of my simulation, I’ll have skin thick enough to withstand the hailstorm I’ll be forced to reckon with. Resilience is necessary, but hope exists. I often forget it does while I’m wondering, but serenity and light remind me that fog isn’t all I’ve devolved into. Rain will come, and so will spring.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 9:39 PM UTC
I have a mental picture.
It's what I dream of you.
I know I've never met you and know that you're not real.
Covered in a black veil, your outline showing through. Draped over the peak of your ******* to the revene between your thighs the more I try to focus my heart beats out of time.
I watch you touch your body, fingertips at first, moving slow and rhythmic your mind is somewhere else.
I move to kiss your lips the veil is In between, I run my hands to yours and touch your inner being.
I feel my fingers wet your swollen lips invite me, your mouth is open wide.
You're beconing to kiss you and slide myself inside.
I pull the veil away my head between your thighs, I want to make you ****** and make you feel alive.
I feel your legs aside me, nylon clad In black, I want to be inside you, legs wrapped around my back.
Two become one as we ****** and writhe, our fingers entangled you stare into my eyes.
You push me to the side and roll ontop of me, you sense we are close where one from two will be.
You pin my arms down my fingers twisted tight riding there above me holding me inside.
You feel my body shaking as you begin to rise, then both of us are lost and hold each other tight.
So if you are that woman with lips of ruby red I hope tonight in dreams you take me to your bed.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 3:27 PM UTC
Falling back to the blank slate
dark night of the soul rising
Supersonic winds are whirling
Megastorms with shattering glass flying
Ooh I feel the acid rain pouring
I see the dust devils dancing
hurricane thunder's wrecking in
Wild Neptune tides are rising
Back and forth rising
Crushing drowning and burning
Neptune tides
Neptune tides
This is a tidal war
It's an etheric war in the pathless land
A battle of the titans
Loosing to the big black hole
The open walls are closing in
But I see the oasis on the horizon
Beconing for my unbegotten soul
My spirit rises with rage
I slay the beasts and chain the demons
Take back my wings of freedom
And set my spirit free
© Sonia Ettyang
2019
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 1:54 PM UTC
The suddenness of her lips on his left him momentarily stunned as he fought to steady himself once again
Swiftly recovering his senses, returning her kiss feveroisly.
Tongues intertwined softly, breathing heavy and labored.
A powerful electricity buzzed between them
The energy from the vastly starry night sky radiating down upon them, casting everything within a ravishing glow.
His dimpled, beautiful smile; powerful enough to render any woman incapacitated.
Her eyes shone brightly as the stars above.
Below them, the lake water called out, beconing.
An inviting sonnet, lapping against the rocky coastline with a steady rhythm like their two hearts beating.
Enveloping them completely, becoming lost within each other and falling victim to the impossibly beautiful mid-July night.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
Love
it's hard to know
when it hits you
it's not like a
bullet in the chest
but more like a
flower
As a bud you
don't notice it
as much
walk by without
another glance
though slowly as
the flower blooms
each petal curving
beconing the sun
to pool in it's
creases
you notice it more
when you pass it by
The hues are brighter
the petals melt
one in to the other
painting this picture
you can hold in
your hands
now you can't help
but stop and stare
the flower that was
once a mere bud
you didn't know
was pregnant
with life
Love is like
a flower
You don't realize
it's beauty
even though it's
been there
all along
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC
They'd said, "from the path, do not stray"
But oh, look at how the trees did sway
Beconing you, closer to come
Life lately had been rather glum
So, into the forest you strolled
Going against what you'd been told
You never wanted to go back home
Through the forest, you would roam.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 12:31 AM UTC
If love be mine then sweetest lips i desire,
to touch my heart in its cold palace
reawaken the embers once burning strong
and cleanse the drink of my tainted chalace.
From my heart an open door erstwhile kept shut,
hidden from mine eye and world,
now beconing thine heart to enter in
and allow my life to be unfurled.
If true love be found though open door,
in certainty already conceived
longing made past, dejection absolved
two lives become eternally cleaved
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Eyes how they oft' twinkle..,
Rich yet centered abroad,
With open arms,
A welcoming love embrace.,
Footsteps of haunting voices..,
Still from my past,
Reflective at times.,
Hence, longing to retrace,
Yet we oft' walk along hand in hand ?
Toward our incoming boardwalk pier,
Still I know a few people that will make you disappear !
A clever wink.,
We all learn in life,
One gets more with sugar then you do with salt ?
With long fallen hair that can make quite a whirl.,
What a top model type of girl,
You only get one chance by which to make a good first impression,
There is the welcoming hand that will extend the greeting,
Both syling and profiling.,
Mr. Costello's 80's version did it some justice !
veronica,
Lips that were softened moist to the touch,
With a warm smile,
A thought in which should love you so very much !
I shed a tear to numb the pain,
Just not having you in my arms is driving me insane !
In our twentieth century world in quite a rush !
As we both mentor let us frolic together !
The years will slowly pass,
Still we have every bit of reason by which to grasp..,
A tender word spoken in the dark,
Has now with patience,
Slowly has been brought into the light
Yet Veronica intends to keep on putting up a good fight !
Through a brightened twintle in her delicate eyes,
When I look in I can see my distant future,
A future both filled with solace and peace..,
With many wonderful memories,
A hidden plight of captivated fancy..,
Gone are all of the days when Sid met Nancy/
Yet you had struck a tender yet vital chord,
Through the pains of silence of the beconing night,
This shall send out a surprisningly vivid fright
Perhaps we captured reflective thought's of yesterday /
As we had to frolic in the mere ambiance of our love,
An aura of a sparkling rainbow yet a bit transparent.,
There are many that seek this truth out of a garbage can..,
Try to lean on one another for moral inner stregnth,
The mere embodiment of laughter !
A speck of dust that will only appear for a very short period of time,
The fond remembrance of a gentle father leaving,
A few delicate things that one can't put on a trophy desk,
There is a true friend with whom you can depend/
For one to give away love so free.,
You had struck a tender chord..,
We can't escape the way we may feel
Perhaps another love embrace shall seal the deal ?
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC
Can anyone take the memories?
They’re beconing me to a place I never should be,
They’re reminding me of mistakes sent free,
An eternity of sin and greed,
Can anyone take the memories?
I can’t erase the one time I accepted a fantasy,
Before losing the charity,
That now I no longer have within me,
Can anyone take the memories?
Because they’re haunting my sleep,
As I sit here and shake and weep,
Thinking of the disapearing creep,
He is hiding within my memories.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
Who dares wake me from my pitiful dreamless sleep,
You wake me just to ask me if I'm "okay",
You skip in my room gallivanting while I toss and turn pondering the meaning of my life,
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yell, realizing there's no one else but me,
So I continue to toss and turn and you start to laugh,
I start talking aloud to myself asking you why your doing this to me,
I begin to mumble to myself about possible answers,
My so called loving "son" took me to a specialized doctor to check my mental state,
I know that even if my son told me in a very childish tone,
The doctor was just here to ask me some special question and if I answered all of them we would go out for lunch,
I gave him the finger and still answered all the questions "truthfully",
I didn't want the doctor to get off that easily,
We didn't go out for lunch later,
Your just tormenting me you realize every time I think you exist the closer I get to becoming insane,
So you laugh on,
Prance on around my room,
Beconing me to drive myself to look at nothing.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC