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unidentified Aug 2016
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Honeybees, birds and blooms unfurl
an enchanting spell
when spring comes by here

Memories waft 'neath burled rustic trellis
where flowered tendrils grasp fleshly
like the newness a love once tenderly embraced

Songbirds in your garden sing
of swooning memories rapture.., of velvet eyes,  
the fragrant spicy nectar hidden within her walls                            

A song of honeyed bees'  sweetest stinger,
and the poignant ***** of intoxicating surrender
lingers, bemused spellbound by a thorny heirloom rose

Sharp beauty beloved like a blameless trap
caught blissfully, breathlessly inbetween
all you wish for and all your wanton needs

Desire 's wellspring an unspoken passion
coquet swollen buds adorn blossoming,
sensual, untamed carnal grace

A picture perfect natural beauty;
sunlit chassé … feathered brush, demure blush
dancing with basket of lace petal’d perfume

For to colour a heart's blank pages
rapt in the poesy a joyous ecstasy ..,
enrapture with rainbow's luscious taste

What seems lost is but a tender vestige unfound
a passing moments innocence lost
to steal away like rumors of gold

These silent reveries seep from a hole in my heart,  
as if ripe strawberries of yore, gently weeping sweetness
when pricked by a thorny rose  

The ides of spring do still bleed a timeless ache
onto the page ... sweet naivety stung
by a mesmerizing dart to the heart

Songbirds in your garden do sing
of sweetest things immersed in nature's nectar
blissful memories sleeping in the petals of a rose




Sung to the wind by a song sparrow — ♪ ♫...✩ ☼✩ ✩☺✩
If only now in dreams of yore
a sky full of stars shine brighter,
a garden of flowers fragrance more pungent,
and songbirds in your garden from yesteryear
sing tantalizingly more beautiful ...,
when you were near

.
GreenTrees May 2017
In the dry cracked walls
Behind the dry rot
Below the slithering bellies

Where the earth turns death into life.

Soothed by the warmth of decay.

Tendrils of sorrow reaching deeper

Into that place in side my soul that has died

Where I silently scream breathlessly.

Time has stopped and the hands of time cover her face
Timidly peering out,
To one day see the sun again
Kemy Sep 2018
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift

Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust

So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait

Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn

A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool

Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine

Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all

The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes

Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon

June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
She would give them order. She would create constellations.
Thomas Pynchon
JustJune Jul 2018
Inhale:
Rouge petals and dancing light
Aromas of the deep and caresses of feathers

Penetrating endearing gazes
Iron words and glass scripture

In quick gusts, I’m caught up
Breathlessly engulfed, all suddenly

It’s gospel

Mumbles of truth from higher dimensions
Real breakthrough in the deepest of places

The wind is gone
There is peace

There is healing here

Rest in my discovery
&
Comfort in my wake

Exhale.
SG Rose Jul 2018
Her body moved towards me
with grace and fury.
The gusts of her legs
and fingertips swirled
dangerously around my
hips and heart as I sat
breathlessly watching her squall
destroy all the walls
I have built.

It's a risky game to be a storm chaser,
but it's a devastating liaison to
love a tornado.
Shelby Apr 13
death bursted into my room tonight
awakening a deep slumber
outstretching a cold boney hand
as if offering for me to go with him

I felt no fear or sadness
I have been waiting for death to greet me
I have admired him from afar
a lover who took no chance in courting me
Until he was ready to give me an embrace
That could be defined as loving and warm
but it was sinful and alluring

flickers of sparks in his eyes
ignited a fire in my soul
a passion that I had longed for
as my hand grabbed onto his
he pulled me close in the middle of the room

he began to dance to the tune
of our heartbeats synchronizing
a beautiful symphony rang love in our ears
craning his neck
he leaned in close
inhaling the shakiness of my breath
moonlight illuminated the poison dripping
from his puckering lips
as an offering to taste
what afterlife was

it held soft undertones of an earthy aftertaste
but an overpowering intoxicating sweetness left me hungry
for just one more dip
in his suicidal serenity

moving in one fluid motion
sweeping behind me
a boney hand placed on an unclothed forearm
slowly slid up my shoulder
as another arm was placed around both hips
he pressed himself tightly against me
icy breath grazed across my neck
making hairs stand up on my arms
as a moan escaped between closed lips
he whispered a seductive I love you
as he tucked hair behind my ear

the words I longed to hear
were met with a sharp knife
placed in open hands
and a crooked smile
spread across his face
it was at that moment
I came to the realization
to become his fully
my beautiful souls light
must burn out
to match his souls decayed state

no persuasion was needed
I longed for this moment
now the time was finally right
steady right hand raised
the elongated blade
"together forever..."
death breathlessly whispered
as a swift motion
punctured my abdomen
breath was taken out of my lungs
knees buckled
as death dropped me to the floor

tears of bliss flowed from my eyes
staining mascara streaks on flushed cheeks
I peer around the room to greet my lover
in another embrace with my final breaths
but im alone
left with a bloodied knife in hand
but this forbidden passion of a deaths dance
was only used to take ones soul
not give it the life it craved
laughing through the flood of tears
not even in death was I loved
Bea Autumn Nov 2018
Swimming in this river current
Guided by its endless flow
Trying to make my way to reach your side
on this endless rivers tide
This raging current torment
I'm swimming for my life
To get it right this time with him
Down underwater dark & deep
Seeping inside my skin so cold
I'm wet down to my bones
Only by my love to make it through
No maps or routes nor guided plan
Just waves of this current over flow
Holding out hoping waiting still
swimming breathlessly I'm knowing
My rescue by his hands he will
Leisa Battaglia Aug 2018
I watch you while you're sleeping
You don't even seem to know
I watch your chest rise and fall
First quickly, then oh so slow

My thoughts turn naughty quickly and I wonder how much it would take
As I rub my naked ******* against your chest, to ****** you awake

I start to touch you and hear you purr
Then I feel my own familiar warm stir

I turn my back to you and feel your
poke
I reach behind me and with my hand, I stroke

You're awake now in every way
And you sense correctly that I want to play

I push back against you and guide you between my thighs
You rub against me and feel my heat and wetness and hear my sighs

You know I want you inside me, I can't wait
You decide to artfully tease me, prolonging our fate

I moan in protest, but your mouth covers mine
My breath is warm in that mouth as I beg you to take me from behind

You smile and take one ****** and start to softly bite
Then you're under the covers and out of sight

I feel your mouth on me licking, *******, tasting
You lap up every drop of me, never one for wasting

Then I feel your fingers expertly start to explore
Coupled with your mouth on me, it's more than I can endure

I'm quickly sent over the edge, my body shaking with pleasure
And then I feel your tongue inside me collecting all your treasure

Slowly I come back to reality as you slide your perfect nakedness back up to meet me
You kiss me long and hard and I taste myself on your lips and inside me is where I need you to be

You're pushing against my wet entrance and inside me you begin to slide
To the place that's silently screaming for you so very deep inside

You're so big and long that it takes a few strokes and a sharp intake of breath, before I can take you all in
The mixture of the pain your size causes and the pleasure of my sated desire, the very definition of sin

You entice and explore parts of me never touched before
I push up with my hips rhythmically, wanting and needing more

You growl and moan into my ear and I say breathlessly, "I am all yours"
Your movements increase with speed until you're pounding against my pelvic floor

This sends your body into a series of ****** convulsive jerks
And this is a feeling I can never resist, one that always works

As I feel your powerful release deep inside of me
My ****** meets yours pulling you in where you were meant to be

We collapse together, bodies intertwined, shaking and covered in sweat
We can't help but smile in exhausted happiness now, with all our desires met

Our breathing is ragged, your back marked with the red lines of my claw
I am throbbing and aching and I know that later I'll be sore and raw

None of this matters to us now as we drift off to sleep in a naked embrace
Because we both know we'll do it again even before our hearts return to their normal pace
M Sep 2018
do you ever feel like you want to rip your heart out of your chest? the feeling of clawing your way through your skin, your muscle, your sternum. how satisfying that must be to silence out the pain you are feeling inside.
do you ever feel like jumping out the train whenever it travels along the coast? the feeling of washing yourself clean of all the sadness that wraps your skin. how liberating that must be to swim breathlessly away from you.
there is so much more i have yet to say. but i am tired. i am tired of feeling every wire of emotion, every crack of my broken soul. how did i become this person—




…how the **** did i get here?
David Jun 8
On my mind
constantly,
you are.
Confused
I am.
Why?
Why when
I wake up,
you are
on my mind?
Why, during
the middle
of the day,
you are
on my mind?
Why as I
lie in bed
ready to
fall asleep,
you are
on my mind?
Why when
I am dreaming,
you are
in my dreams?
You have been
a muse for
many a
writes because
you,
are on my mind
constantly.
It's dangerous
to even
think about
plugging myself
into you
even once in
the realm of
reality.
I yearn
and literally ache
to touch
every inch
of you.
Is this love?
Is this infatuation?
I am
not sure.
But,
I have never
been more
afraid of
anything in
my life than
how afraid
I am of
touching you
for the
first time.
No words
could possibly describe
the way that
my body would feel or
the way that
my mind
would become
enslaved
to your words
and your
movements.
Constantly,
I dream about
our sunny
and 75
intimate moments
together,
constantly... ..
breathlessly.
Just you
and me
giving one
another each
nanosecond
of our attention
to each other.
Constantly,
you are
on my mind.
Of course,
right now
you are.
Right now,
I am picturing you
in a black
silk laced teddy
leaving all the
right parts of you
covered and leaving my
imagination to
run wild on a
tachycardic
heart rate.
Excuse me
readers while
I wipe the
drool from
my chin
once again.
I ache for our
eyes to meet
at
******'s door
and tremble
in the arms of one another's
exhausted sweaty bodies.
And to just
lie still in
that moment
as one until
we fall asleep
and I dream
of you
once again.



written by me... ..
Those days, Those days
in Prashanti, not a care in the world
waiting for the Lord of the Universe

Rainbow sequined saris flutter like
colorful prayer flags
in the sultry, warm breezes

Women devotees, buzzing honeybees,
breathlessly squeeze into granite window openings
outside the mandir
straining to see, hoping their adoring eyes
will be blessed by the nectarine vision of Sai Avatar

Seva Dal angels in vivid orange and yellow scarves
manage to bridle the swooning, burgeoning, euphoric
crowds with spirited "Sairam, Sairams"

O Baba
what we wouldn't give for a chance to once more
see your airborne Lotus feet floating towards us
on the golden sands of Puttaparthi

Reverently, I press my fingertips to my eyelids
taking padnamaskar
these orbs, these orbs
once gazed upon the holy sight of
Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba
She collected lolly sticks,
        The ones with jokes on them:
        Why did the chicken cross the road?-type stuff,
Which she stained brown and used as floorboards
in her magnum opus.

The Tudor house was the best one.
It had servants’ quarters
And a kitchen with little hessian potato sacks made
of something or other she salvaged from
somewhere or other;
And the floorboards looked so real:
        painted lolly sticks
        but almost evoking the smell of varnish,
        layers of polish on a floor trodden by centuries
        in perfect miniature;
                                                Almost­.

This was the last of the three
                                                or four
                                                        doll­s’ houses she built;
The devil’s work for her idle widow’s hands.
She built this one while you were entering into your final
        stalemate
that doomed dance that sits so permanently
on your conscience now
like a sack of compost
full of water.
        (I choose this metaphor only because
        I found this in my garden yesterday
        and it was ******* heavy.)
On paper it was simple:
        You gave her your house,
        She gave you hers.

And so her house shrunk around her and
became a dolls’ house of your own making,
Irrationally
                        she saw your god-hands reaching in
to manipulate and
extort her.

She was wrong, of course.

You were making good on your promise.
You would come through for her in her old age.
You did.

But it was a promise you made more to yourself than her,
And she let her illogical mind
        never analytical to begin with
        now razed and blinded by grief and loneliness
                        (there was nothing to work with)
poison your good deed
and you were both dolls now.

Eight years later she died lovelessly.

She was moved into her sitting room
        the only part of the house that stayed the same
        after you moved in –
                the walls closed in to contain it
                constrict it
a hospital bed and vinyl chair with commode,
and the brown laminate floor
        just like
        her lolly sticks.

You administered painkillers
Admitted the nurses
Negotiated with your estranged brother.

but her paranoia rotted everything
and your hands cared with compassion but not love.

Gone, now,
the dolls’ houses remain.
An inheritance of clutter but in a house
you bought.

You answer the phone
                                        breathlessly
      ­                                  aggressively.
You have been heaving the big one up the stairs
        that sack of compost
        that heavy conscience of yours.

You will be heaving those ******* dolls’ houses around
until I have to buy your house and care for you.
But I am telling you now:
        I am putting them in a skip
        the moment I have the chance.

They are not imbued with the joy they gave her
any more than
                        by keeping them safe from landfill
                        you can imbue them with the love you withheld.

They are painted lolly sticks and sewn hessian.
They don’t contain any more of her
than the bits of paper she kept
        passwords and bank balances
        dates and instructions for the Sky box
There is nothing left of her to protect now.

        (We won’t mention her
        unscattered ashes
        which have been left with the undertaker
        for nearly two years now.
                They’re not her either
                but they’re more her.)

Open up the hinged false front
                tip out the miniatures
                let the little figures be free,
                                be landfill
                                (isn’t that what dying is anyway?)
all the tangible things she touched and loved
are not avatars for her touch and her love.

The past is not present through the preservation of objects.
The past is not erased by the advancement of time
                nor can it be undone by corrective action.

Now she is on the other side of the road,
        (why did the chicken
        behave.)
She has no further use for the things she left behind.
Hold tight to hope's embrace,
   wait...

I've heard this line before.

   This corridor I've walked along before,
I walk along once more.

Breathlessly tracing my fingertips along the walls as I stroll through the halls,
  
   Feel the infinitesimal imperfections,
akin to the ones in my mind.

Mind the gap.

Ahead here,
   is a dead end.

the point I cannot see past.

what,
What is behind my wall?

~Robert van Lingen
Sophie Mariff Oct 2018
one day, he’ll realize how stupid he was
letting her go and instead starting a war
Laughing instead of crying
Pretending that it isn’t tiring

one day he’ll realize what he lost
when he sees how happy she walks
Courted by another man
Falling in love all over again

one day he’ll start to feel jealousy
as he watches her joy breathlessly
Wondering where he went wrong
Never realizing that he made her strong

one day he’ll understand love
even if it’s not with the one who he hurt
Come across old pictures to burn
He’ll find himself begging for her
one day he’ll realize everything he didn’t do
Bummer May 22
You fit so perfectly in my arms. Holding the world together was never so enjoyable. And your coffee colored eyes look so beautiful when you stare back at me. I try to count your freckles, but I get too easily distracted by the millions of other things that make you so ******* stunning. The collision of your kiss leaves me so breathlessly happy, and I look dumb as **** after. I think of you during storms. I think of you all the time. And I can't think of a better way to daydream without you waltzing into my mind. You are my blissful summer nights. You are my adorable best friend. You are my coffee shop daydreams. You are my everything.
yup

— The End —