"climactic" poems
__Body__
Let me love and care for the art piece
of your body- every pulsating touch of your
spasms. Jumping wildly; while washing
me in your spring water on top a mountain
of passions. I’ll spurt within you, from its tip.
And in kind; let the wetness of your lips
sooth my skin. Kissed by your sensual soul, as
it echoes every word of thirst, running down your
throat; chasing after every breath we lose in
a moment.
_Still, let us not love in haste._
__Amazon Queen__
I gaze at you, as my sprouting rose in
bloom. But not something so delicate; she is
tall, shapely, and sturdy— my Amazon Queen
that keeps me in the centre of her rainforest.
As she lets my words water her floret by
their tip- its warmth and gentleness spoke of
a love so deep and fulfilling.
__Foot fetish__
Oh, how she stimulates my eyes,
as I make out with her eye’s persuasion;
my mind often rehearses how I’ll love her
in it’s imaginations- my mind’s perfect
simulation;
For our desires are much sweeter,
by every bite of her smooth chocolate skin
I adore her more than I would have
yesterday- to quietly bless each step
she’ll take tomorrow. And a reason for me
to kiss her feet.
__Moist__
Surely as the night is washed by the gentle rains-
I have these saturated thoughts, pondering how
she’ll drown me over another night’
As she could never
have the most without I in the middle;
her underwear feels so moist.
__Climactic Prelude & Conclusion__
Would you love to experience a climactic
prelude; a middle so sweet in its time;
While my eyes ripen at the sight of your
ripening fruit,
Oh, so sweet in its time, let me capture
and savour that juicy fruit,
For yes indeed we had fallen in love-
but let not that fruit eventually fall;
From its tree, to rot off its vine; let me bite
you as mine- to taste your heaven’s ecstasy;
In this climactic prelude; I promise the middle
is filling, and its conclusion won’t be short lived.
Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 8:22 AM UTC
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
your body, the drain plug,
that climactic days of a day
murky sweet strawberry milk water
ebbs and sways
around, surrounds, and surmounts you
Your body the dumping ground
for pretty poppy seeds
seep, steep
seeded somewhere deep
as
synthetic stinging metaphor rain
pours on your mistreated singing skin
spotted, dotted, synaptic rule
akin to lemon poppy seed muffin tops
your head- a top
spins round
and mimics
never-ending bath drain whirlpool
ambulances and ambivalences soundtrack
this nocturne
night of a morning
mourning already
my poor lost sister
a little less than intact
lost in her head
I'm loosing her
and she's nodding
and she's nodding
and she's nodding
and she's nodding
and she nods
and grumbles,
fumbles for words that aren't there
four words that aren't there
forward isn't there
because what do you say
about matters
when your high
and breathing last breaths overlapping
in humble showers
in heart crumbling nakedness
your faithlessness trapping
murky sweet strawberry milk waters.
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
I provoke the rain of Hell
From Heaven high to earth below
There we'll float on gainful spells
We're ready for this world to go
And off to outer space, we're facing
Endless races to the furthest reaches of our teacher, the speaker, the logos of Cosmos
And beyond to distant Quasars,
No phasers, no lasers, weaponry
We're safe with hearts of purity
And naked with our souls we'll seek
The greatest cosmic mysteries
I've always sought and thought unreal
The spacecraft not of stone or steel but
Opened hearts and focused spirits
Woke by times both strange and fearful
Changing basic notions of
What we all say are mind and love
We're through with consumers, they've doomed us
We've moved on
The proof is the truth that all life will soon be gone
We've built and built, killed billions and still
We march toward gold archways which never were real
I can tell others feel it,
They're real and they heal me
Relations, creations, spontaneous meaning
It's all building up to a climactic moment
Of high expectation that we will all blow it
But we were born just so we'd know when the opening
Ceremonies go on for the New Age of Hope
It's outrageous to think of the hate which created this
Darkness and chaos,
(Our God has betrayed us!)
But that's why our savior said
Look the other way,
To meet hate with more hatred
Speeds up the decay
We love the villains, though they **** us by millions
Because they're truly a part of this cosmic cotillion
They can't see the dance while they're
Crashing and sinning
So they can't imagine they're actually IN IT
There's a part and they fit it,
Catalyst for the equipment
Of Salvation:
The nations of women and men
Beginning again
We'll cancel the debt and we'll all become friends
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
Kiss after sensual kiss leads to what I would find as an inevitably ****** placement between us, that avenue of lust which we mutually entered once we were on the same level of thinking.
I lean into you, inhaling the intimacy second after second from your tasty lips, biting your lip and running my fingers through your hair as my hands ease slowly down to your neck, caressing you and easing down farther and farther until I'm caressing a breast.
Call me crazy, but I think I'm in love, or at least its unmistakably destructive premonition. Lifting your shirt and kissing on flesh, making your toes curl under overwhelming chills being sent from your abdomen.
Easing back up to you, I can see your eyes, I catch them and keep them in place, letting you know full well that I intend to enjoy you fully.
And you let me.
Easing down and absorbing your figure, kissing and tracing down your belly and easing into a certain heaven before coming back up and stripping you down gently, making you smile at the gentlemanly figure that you call yours.
Can I love you down? lying you down fully extended, can I get onto you as if we could share the same space against scientific belief?
I ease into you slowly, only speeding in a way as to show my own urgency isn't priority.
And we make one. easing into your form, our bodies become entwined, become one at last.
suppressing your pleasurous scream with my own warm kisses, I allow us to combine again and again, and become one once more as our nerves and hormones take over in this ritualistic connection.
Made love? we make emotion. Stripped bare and enjoying the ****** pleasures given us, ****** after ****** kiss after juicy kiss and scream after luscious, pleasured filled scream until we finally reach what I like to call climactic end and level up in our relationship. At last, though we are still levels away from the final intimacy, we are closer than we have been before, and the closer we get, the deeper and more sensual our encounters are.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
On the black canvas
Carve the thunders
Streaks of neon glow,
The drums the heaven beats
On their way to the earth
Rend the air apart,
The ground in ******** anticipation
Vibrates in a rediscovered titillation,
The soil waits holding its breath
In the last climactic lull
Before it’s released from the pain,
Unmindful, I open my umbrella
In the season’s first rain!
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:09 AM UTC
Lightning striking through a nervous system,
Blood pumping facetious fire.
Whispers through my home, hauntings of trauma and dreams of the crucifix stand.
The flaming star of the avatar.
The predator and the prey, predetermined and praying.
Just another eternity until the monsoon departs, the season ended. From there the calm waves will carry me to shore.
The dark, restful, kiln, I am your dough, as I am your clay, a grateful panettone.
Mold me, endow me the drug, the decree, the great recipe of relinquishment.
I rejected asylum, I denounced Gehenna,
Cold blooded sunbathing in the radiant rays of the great bird's wings.
The boiling embrace of his soft feathered fire.
The brutal, unrelenting, chaotic, climactic, pull into the hot murky depths.
Scald me, lash me, revive me in death.
For I can wait no longer.
Living in fear of the Reaper is worse than The Harvest itself.
So come unto me my lord, my peace,
And engulf me in the ******** rest.
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 3:14 PM UTC
he laid hands and lips upon
canvas of aching nakedness
igniting...
wanton hunger; pressing into
my palate; fingers painting tender
curlicues with subtle strokes
tracing...
each line and curve, tongued
with passions ink as climactic
quivers, pause; nipping as I
ebb and flow...
he rides in cresting waves, teased,
seduction blankets our embrace;
firmness delves deep...as breath escapes us
scarlet lace lays puddled at our feet
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 1:45 AM UTC
You unscrew the jar; Orion’s climactic sigh spills—
A cello’s low A hums—our triad, C and E—the night skies.
Your thumb caresses pulse down my throat, andante, it drills
through myth—not his hunt, but the damp heat between our thighs.
We’ve plucked Lyra’s rusted chords, restrung her spine
to thrum with your breath, not some dead muse’s cords.
Stars crack like old records; we skip, we refine—
our bed, a cradle for light, shed our sheer white peignoirs.
You fear the jars dim? Let me mouth the black core
of Cassiopeia—choke her brittle groan,
then laugh as you arch—my crescendo, your score—
each note a plum’s burst where her language had flown.
Your teeth score my shoulder. The dark soars, unconfined—
We swallow the arias. Let the void choke on mine.
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
The paradise of darkness is like a climactic and physiological déjà vu, where souls have been swallowed by ancient daemons amidst an **** of oral sacrifice.
Aren’t you tantalised by such forbidden seductions?
Although I am somewhat acquainted with the blackness of unfathomable depths of the ancient abyss, I sincerely call upon your superior wisdom to beckon me across craggy chasms of mathematical perplexity, where eternal ghosts wail with agonising obscurity from the turrets of architectural stronghold.
If you light a candle toward the incarnation of depravity and reveal the sacred circle, then I will ensure safe passage down those historical and spiral staircases where dungeons hold innumerable fetishistic secrets.
I am captivated by co-existing opposites.
Let us talk with the goat, and arrive at a mutually agreeable pact.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
Evening
Anticipating a storm
Gentle waves start to lick the shore
White fluffy sands gradually moisten
Harden from pressure
Of liquid and stored summer’s heat
Darker
Waves intensify
Ripping, tearing the shore
Moving sands with the flood
Flooding all
In liquid and violent summer’s heat
Rising
Lifted by waves
The shore is the sea is the shore
Water has taken control
Beaten the shore
With liquid, climactic heat
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
Colossal, climactic clouds
Caught in a canopy of blue
Clear.
Cascading.
Calming.
Captures eyes within it's countless hues.
A blue of such hue my mind never once knew
Least that's what i felt
And it definately felt true.
Simultaneously I see sudden shooting sunlight
A seamlessly stupendous splendor, it stammers my senses
It shines, shimmers, sinks into my supple skin.
My Stimulations soaking; I submit from within
I succumb.
I smirk.
I think and say
'Surrounded by shivering delight, Surely I am safe today!'
Least, that is what it felt to be true.
But as if i actually knew.
Whilst waning wrapping waves
Of whipping white-water
Washes out to a wide horizon
Willingly captures my once wandering eyes.
Wait though.
It's all sinking in now. Woe.
Weeping with what I wanted to be joy
I wail
I whisper 'Where does the water start, and the sky begin?'
And that question, triggers it within.
The last word really
Begin.
When did this begin?
And a blanket of black, blinding blankness, descends.
I blame
I whimper
I whisper
'Did it really have to end?'
But it has the better of me now.
And harsh reality I cannot shake.
I wake.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
Share with me the climactic battle between the waves of the sea and the so-called feeling of being free.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
If you can no longer bear life's clenched fist, it's random smashing of all your hope, dreams, desires, and passion,
be drunk.
Be drunk on wine, music, poetry by the pages, or, on the agelessness of the silky moss covered pond or the fog thick meadows.
If you would not feel time's ticking brutality, be drunk.
If all memory does is remind you of the losses, the deaths, the divorces, the regrets, the remorse over your high ideals and standards, and your much lower behavior, choices, and antics; when life seems anti-climactic, be drunk.
As loneliness becomes like a rotten tooth, hot flashing pain, and the stain on your heart and hands won't come out, be drunk.
Whether it be ***** poetry, nature or music, be full, filled, consumed.
Until the glare of this cruel world becomes a soft gentle blur, be drunk and entombed.
Apr 22, 2023
Apr 22, 2023 at 8:51 PM UTC
Whatever the weather
calm, windy or cool
cats and dogs
I fall for you..
dew drenched
like lightening
like rain storms
snow showers
hail splashed
sleet slashed
blazing sunshine.
tanga untangled..
..so climactically.
TOBIAS
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 5:58 AM UTC
Into the goblet of life did I poor myself, convivially jaunting; jumping for the juniper as if jolted into life for the first time by the cosmic current that sublimely filtered reality from the dream that had become my truth.
I, beheld to the newly found perceptions, careening through the trees, trampling upon crisp leaves, on my way to scenic experiences, was ever looking forward to the hopeful thrill and living in anticipation of the next climactic excitement.
I would be unable to be complemented by the moment, in which I did not truly live.
The adventure became a tragedy,
As is always with the changing of innocence into untoward regret.
Tears were novelties that were bartered for kindness, traded for the rhyme, but never the shine.
Illumination is priceless.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
there is a glacier
partially concealed
melting from a climactic
climate shift revealing a
reality congealed by revolt
rebels burdened with
a philosophy that
elevates humanity
insisting we will not grovel
before a vain messiah
espousing erroneous
iterations of ideology
will the human race permit
the iceberg to dissolve
as vapid reformist
rhetoric inundates our
political consciousness with
pragmatic progressivism
or will we rise in resistance
with the radicals
fists clenched in protest and
hands outstretched to one
another rather than
lifted high in praise to a savior as we
witness the glacier solidify once more
as CO2 perforates our atmosphere
with heady highs and noxious toxins
will we succumb like dumbfounded
addicts intoxicated by inoculation
consuming the opiated semantics
of charismatic personas or will we
challenge the corrupt
with our wits about us
facing the sobering corporate
corporeality with the pride
of lions facing a den of thieves
abandon the chosen champion
of the vanguard party
we stand hand-in-hand
7 billion
sisters and brothers
in an anthemic chorus of
solidarity that shakes the
bastions of the enthroned
with the resounding shouts of
perseverance in our
non-compliant defiance
our manifestos are written
in the blood sweat and tears
we've shed for this
dream deferred
and we will not be the
silent majority anymore
the masque of anarchy
is ours to share
will we wear its visage
or will hell freeze over
before we choose
freedom
over happiness
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
Jagged green talons,
shoot through gold dust,
marred only by the glimmer
of the mid day solstice.
Curving misty granules
Mask temperamental land:
Tracing paper haze
Swirls of glistening sand.
Bending hills blend
Precious pallid dust
With one layer of
Whipping wind.
Your blustered footprint
Get's carried away;
Bullied by nature's
Ethereal motion.
You’ve walked for miles
Dry and lagging among
Miniature valleys of Earth's
Smoothest round stalactite.
Hear the luscious,
Climactic ocean breeze
Speak salty psalms, from
Deepest blue parchment.
The serrated cliff-face
Positioned between
The vast curvature
of the sea and dunes.
Dogtooth black vertigo
With specks of white refrain,
Which drip back down
To the tenacity of the waves
As tides rise, patience falls.
Worn away, smooth again
As a brief, conjugative
Swill of realisation
Washes out lifes impurities
Cleansing boredom into
Calm; see a metropolis
Submerge in the tide.
The landmarks and history
Are but bricks, mortar
And washed up stories
Which float away to sea.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
*So it's that time again!
Where was I?
Oh yeah, somewhere else!*
The pragmatic man is back again!
Anti-climactic game plan with slack in the chain
Snagged the habit, kicked it's *** until it's hemorrhagic
A spiky crawlspace,
Dogmatic thematics; slit your throat then cry about it
What an antic! It's kinda romantic... pack your bags and leave you nomad,
No man, would ever wanna deal with your vatic manic fits!
Every fabric of Satan's being isn't satin, it's chintz
Chances are my polysyllabic magic is tragically a product of status;
Maybe it's forced? Course it is, like a birthday party, you get gifts
I think I got this one, and now, I'm an addict
My words are indelible ink, spun in webs like the ones in your attic.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
__Chapter 1: Evening__
Your attire is a thin veil; underneath the silk
is a reach within my arms, to grace a warm touch
passion's burning flame, that can make snowflakes
melt away so fast
Romance, over all parts of your attractiveness
tall, shapely, and sturdy— as my presence is in
the presence of a jungle, for an Amazon queen
Once warmed, from head to toes, fingertips,
to lips galore; quiet conversations that eyes speak
of love so deep and fulfilling
Eager breaths thrown back in my face, also, the love
I keep safe, so carefully, cautiously; secretly locked
away in a heart cuddle you warm, wrap you as a blanket
that provides the body’s heat
__Chapter 2: Morning__
How would you shepherd a tongue into speaking
the heart’s deepest secrets— at early morn underneath
the rainy skies; I will wake you. As the clouds grow
heavy, and heavier; the slightest sunlight parts them
open, as perfect affections open you wide.
Sprung out perfectly; an inviting posture, there
where you reside— kisses that fall like the rain
Downward falling; your love a juicy fruit, that will
eventually fall- ripen my eyes to feast on your desires
As we’re both lost in the warming memories of this
blanket’s sun
__Chapter 3: Afternoon__
I think about the rain that fell on your hair,
those tiny bouncing raindrops on your coat-
Coating the memory in such a raging joy;
as the gaze of noon, painted your honest form
A man formulating his words to a first meet;
hoping it may not be short lived
A tongue ensnared by its own words, trying to
savour the novelty of my excitement, all the
pleasures and first feeling— that sensual honey
of our first moment, alone together
The eve is looming over our eyes, for this day
do not chase it, as I’ll catch you by your skin
Gain that glance of a climactic prelude into
another restful resolution of a long night
As the stars are dressed with light; and I sit
with these thoughts on my mind, of how you’ll
choose to dress yourself tonight…
Aug 22, 2024
Aug 22, 2024 at 1:49 PM UTC
i glimpse the dawn
through alabaster-flaked rickety-pickets,
like the cavity-riddled ******* maw
of tom sawyer’s crooked-grinning demon
trying to reap its earthly exodus
and rail at the wind
for its squalling disposition.
i have a head full of grass,
and a trail of ants in staggered patrol
clambering in one ear
in hopes of alighting through the other;
their bodies breaching synaptic copulations
of thoughts and ideas assimilated in lucidity,
but turning, like the thrusting-seed of climactic joy,
only to find their first glimmer of stirring light
is merely a preamble to a yawning, abortive dark.
the sun is blinding,
and yet i stare onward - inward,
finding comfort in the dazzling blur,
like a drug redefining the transcendent pain,
and rending heart and brain to simple masses
without flex or flux to pierce the void
and conjure illusions wrought
of patch-worked memories and dreams
that i can no longer tell apart.
here i have come perchance to bleed
in pools to stain the shape of my words,
and your eyes to dance upon their drift,
like the mortician's arms embracing the husk
of cuckoldly bones and beguiling flesh.
here i have come to cackle at worms
that chew holes in the leaves strewn like a sheet,
to shadow the moment i stepped off of the page,
and splintered these whittled stilts
to tempt the proffered flames.
it is a moment lost in orbits spent,
revolutions spiraled, twisted and turned,
like bitter shells spat from that forgetful sea,
where i cast line after line of salty breath,
to avail the deep with my own sullied hook.
so here i lie with a head full of grass,
thoughts taking flight on thorax and gaster,
staring onward - inward, of the blinding sun,
to purge the umbrage of a threadbare soul,
and wander the void
perchance...
to bleed.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
After this climactic
Three-way
Mexican stand-off
Once the orchestra
Dies off
And the treasure's dug up
We should probably just
Lay down
Enjoy the sun
Let it scorch the earth
And bake our bare
Finally poncho-free skin
Because all I need to be
Happy
Is the western sky
Burning me
Biting me
A polka dot bikini
Clint Eastwood
And the most delicate six-shooters you've ever seen
By my side
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Echos through the city
Filling it with a roar
Crashing through walls
Rumbling through windows
Cutting through the air
It calms me
Soothes me
Grounds me
It’s awesome power
That’s paradoxically silent
Stands still and tall
It’s subtle vibration
That’s gently rough
Flows far and wide
It’s dark melody
That’s unforgettably ominous
Sings through the atmosphere
It’s charged.
Quick.
Merely a bubble of excited particles
Bouncing off one another in glee
Yet…
It’s slow…
Climactic…
…It’s beautiful.
From such chaos comes so much beauty, so much feeling, so much sound
From such chaos, comes so much life
Here I rest
And here I’m calm
Here, I am safe
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 2:49 PM UTC
Colossal vocabulary
introduce not,
assemble climactic composition
melodramatic balladist
trickle vocabulary approximative a estuary
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Big words
Do not,
Make the poem
The poet,
Flows words like a river.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC