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"cobalt" poems
my mind is a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal tools in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of chrome and execute strides of cobalt nevertheless i feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am becoming something a little different, in fact myself Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet bellowings.
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My Mind Is
like cellophane wraps hard candy like ink loves to dry like hot sauce drenches noodles like sunrise casts shadows like band-aids sooth cut flesh like irons crease linens like origami folds paper like water floats boats like a tempest loves a teapot like syrup and bananas drench waffles like spoons love soup like cats love fish like french fries love ketchup like wild girls dance like a crow loves road **** like eyes love beauty like a circle loves a square like buttered buns fit a bikini like a kissed mouth hungers for wet lips like moths love a flame like dogs love ******** and like ******* hug butts like howling ******* pulse hearts like vampires love blood and castles like dark grapes ferment in bubbling cauldrons like madness loves a straight jacket like a ***** loves a **** and music gets you dancing like suns fall through cobalt night all smashing diamonds    that's how i love you
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
How I Love You
*erstwhile a halcyon extant universe incessantly ceaseless cradled itself in hues of violet phosphorescence laced with cobalt shimmering stars perpetually whole it nonetheless sought to know itself encompassing all that is bubbling over in effervescent ebullience intertwined with indescribable catastrophic splendor it shattered into tens of millions of splinters of eloquent efflorescent light shining in the night each splinter heretofore imbued with sempiternal felicity began to conjure sumptuous dulcet elixirs furtively seeking out savory emollients to mollify the pique of separation plummeting they fell into monstrous competition seeking demesne they lost the purpose of gaining awareness and intelligent consciousness surreptitious estrangement overflowed deluging them in excruciating agony thus an epiphany was born the carving of the beleaguered fragments inked with tremendous pain created a transfiguration of splinters to crystals hence enlightenment commenced as the gems magnetized together constructing a world where omnipotence shines the ineffable beauty formed by the reintegration of crystals far exceeds the original as they dazzle with universal light bursting from diamonds etched in deep wisdom flooding the firmament with kaleidoscopic rainbow strobes cascading the sky ©2016janetaylor
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
crystals of light
Paris;this April sunset completely utters utters serenely silently a cathedral before whose upward lean magnificent face the streets turn young with rain, spiral acres of bloated rose coiled within cobalt miles of sky yield to and heed the mauve of twilight(who slenderly descends, daintily carrying in her eyes the dangerous first stars) people move love hurry in a gently arriving gloom and see!(the new moon fills abruptly with sudden silver these torn pockets of lame and begging colour)while there and here the lithe indolent ********** Night,argues with certain houses
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Paris;This April Sunset Completely Utters
breathing the turquoise like lavender, and sipping the blue summer. bitter cold clouds glide and morph lava lather, floating whispers cut by sweet pineapple sunshine. soon, a moment, now rhythms ripple the sky like skipping stones we jump the music like puddles splashing in the frequencies. cobalt bass rumbles the earth hungry, pumps the air with springing spirals pushing and pulling the senses, reverberating through cells. heavy mud humming, stomping echoes through our atoms dizzy; balancing tuned body to innate electricity the fizz of circulating lemonade energy. we jump the music like puddles splashing in the frequencies. strawberry melodies spilling ribbons, dolphin leaps of the spaces inbetween beats, lines of colours overlapping, colliding, mixing, merging, blending in with the forest. washing over souls the life fire sparkles like a clear water cleansing harmonies, sound waves crashing against inertia. phosphorescent glow of re-charged love for the world, for being, animation flowing through burnt smoky ashes of sapphire charcoal skies; dimmed radiation of chlorophyll emerald days. the smell of salt, dry bark, fluffy carbon mists, trembling lights softening the eyes' grip on outlines, loosening lies. watching the cycles of patterns tumbling colours through a mill rotating, and the silence of listening when the music comes to an end.
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Synesthesia
Heat beats down upon the street Birds too hot to fly, Blistered sand you cannot stand Drenched with sweat am I. Cows collect in shadow deep Panting sheep hang head, Goshawk flies in cobalt skies Hills of grass stand dead. Whisp of smoke, a puff of breeze Sirens scream in air, Running men in squads of ten Emerge from everywhere. Now the rising wind takes charge Runs with leaping flame Into crown of eucalypts To rage across the plain. Too late the tenders hoses pour, Too late the fireman’s shout Inferno hot has run amok And all control a rout. Generating mighty winds The fire charges forth Spiralling in furnace air To incinerate for sport. Vanquished men exhausted stand Watch with useless eyes, As raging flames consume their truck, Inside a good mate dies. A live thing in the burnished night It writhes and spirals high Across the flaring treetops Hot, red smoke fills the sky. As sudden as it starts, it stops A wind change in the air. Ravaged forest stark and black Hot ashes everywhere. Hills of cinders smoking now Stock in death’s repair, Homesteads rendered charcoal like Farmers in despair. A silence in the ravaged hills Birdless in the sky, Bushfire horror, death and smoke Enough to make you cry. Marshalg In support of my Australian brethren and their torched nation. 30 January 2013
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
Bushfire
Starting with coverage from BBC2. Brushing calm shadows into pastel hills. A rhythm paints terrain a sugary brown. Flicks of green create fauliage serene. The clean tasteless air is cotton soft. A effortless stream runs cobalt clear. Where salmon gymnastics begin each year. Squirrels practice dance routines a glamorous red. The doormice dressed and ready for bed. Continuing coverage on Ch4. The perch, the tench sat together on an underwater bench. Discussing bait and hooks whilst flicking through some fishing books. What's he eating? Mr Mole, it looks like cheese and ham on a soft brown roll. There's a chicken and a fox that live round here. Seriously, they've been dating each other for about a year. Now, if you take the next left, then over the stye. There's a duck lives there, call in and say, hi! Poetry by Kaydee.
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
The Meadow
where solar lips are parted and crescent ******* hardened cobalt fire licks your name off its oldest breath this ****** hollow bends its neck through thermal skies and sand scarlet waves of heat off your (sweet ancestral) hand come inside, the door is open. the answer's always yes Medusa’s gaze would turn to sand if she knew the stony glories spanned within rock candy walls ablaze flood plains carry hydrogen freight from your abyss' collapsing weight the broken ***** flowers rusting in the haze long stem bows in the cut orchestral steal blood from the times ancestral the ink has spilled and left a stain under folded layers of skin that the mirror reflects from views within your eyes are naked lights, innumerable and plain.
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
flamingo / vampire
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
IN A TAUT BLACK DRESS
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
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They weren’t all cut from the same cloth *vilified tenders of the iron ***** some were lovers (or lucid dreamers) stage romantics hidden behind jackboots and skull caps and switchblade seams Caste members of a forlorn pack counting their patchwork and deeds conjuring up demons around the console filling their dreams with radio reds and dusted quarries and faded sepia prints Brass knuckles and marches of the few lightening bolt cracks from a chilling blood moon death’s dark specter cold and ominous looms the cobalt sea swells near the nestled, and lost Clubhouse at Kiusta
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Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
The Clubhouse at Kiusta
*Just when the sun illuminates, Upon the sapphire skies, And the clouds appear, To slowly dance, side by side. Shimmery, cobalt blue waters, Perform a low sequence, on the seaside, Leaving a bubbling blanket, On the surface of smooth sands, Washing away, pretentiously. Bringing a gentle tropical zephyr, With rhythmic sounds, Echoing, through evergreen pinnate leaves, Swinging gently, into the calming air. Inspiring a magical after glow, With dreams fulfilled, In ecstasy, Leaving a warm and peaceful impression.*
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
When The Sun Illuminates, Upon The Sapphire Skies II
1. Fallow brown, like he's poured his whole soul out through the gold sieve and lies in wait to be replenished. 2. The color of the ocean. Blue, I guess, but that’s not even the half of it. All the ruggedness of the waves—forming up, breaking, and forming again like life is only the motions. Her eyes are blue, but you could hardly tell. 3. A hand-painted bowl of fresh chocolate frosting from which the most immature hands soonest get a mouthful. 4. Beautiful. Like, drop dead gorgeous. I’d dig my own grave and stick to rolling in it if she ever looked at me some type of way. Their color? I don’t know. But most of all, I dare to wonder about the bludgeoned scar between them. 5. Sturdy cobalt. Far more indicative of her steady heart than gold could ever hope to be. Still susceptible to tear, but not so easily warped by heat or stress. 6. Simply brown. No, red? It’s always been hard to tell through the fog. Truthful like the rawest earth, I’ll call her mahogany. 7. Faded blue spray paint over a slate gray wall. Forcibly muted after her years of blasting music, but there’s still that rogue twinkle to them that I pray slips through the cracks. 8. Coffee, with all the vim and vigor to make you click your heels and fall in love. 9. Unripe lime seen lazing in the shade. Not fit for a margarita just yet, but straining at the bit nonetheless. 10. Hazel, although I still don’t know what the **** that actually is. Whatever. It looks nice on her resume. 11. Green. Or were they blue? The memories of her were too wonderful, too important, that I had to let the littlest details fade away first. 12. The crystallized seafoam that made me realize I deserved to feel alive, too.
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC
A dozen pairs of eyes
1. Fallow brown, like he's poured his whole soul out through the gold sieve and lies in wait to be replenished. 2. The color of the ocean. Blue, I guess, but that’s not even the half of it. All the ruggedness of the waves—forming up, breaking, and forming again like life is only the motions. Her eyes are blue, but you could hardly tell. 3. A hand-painted bowl of fresh chocolate frosting from which the most immature hands soonest get a mouthful. 4. Beautiful. Like, drop dead gorgeous. I’d dig my own grave and stick to rolling in it if she ever looked at me some type of way. Their color? I don’t know. But most of all, I dare to wonder about the bludgeoned scar between them. 5. Sturdy cobalt. Far more indicative of her steady heart than gold could ever hope to be. Still susceptible to tear, but not so easily warped by heat or stress. 6. Simply brown. No, red? It’s always been hard to tell through the fog. Truthful like the rawest earth, I’ll call her mahogany. 7. Faded blue spray paint over a slate gray wall. Forcibly muted after her years of blasting music, but there’s still that rogue twinkle to them that I pray slips through the cracks. 8. Coffee, with all the vim and vigor to make you click your heels and fall in love. 9. Unripe lime seen lazing in the shade. Not fit for a margarita just yet, but straining at the bit nonetheless. 10. Hazel, although I still don’t know what the **** that actually is. Whatever. It looks nice on her resume. 11. Green. Or were they blue? The memories of her were too wonderful, too important, that I had to let the littlest details fade away first. 12. The crystallized seafoam that made me realize I deserved to feel alive, too.
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Her silver wings dipped in gold soared through our hearts couragion bold Purified election supple selection I am the piece you nuzzle to complete the puzzle Lost and lonely the sun's warning Pluto's cobalt seas Uranus storming Beyond the horizon Beyond 4g of Verizon Astral forming She's the morning
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Her Silver Wings
Cobalt. Gunmetal. Pastel. Powder. Forget-me-not. Out of all the blues, She has the eye color with no name The eye color that is slowly driving me insane. Who gave her the right? To have something so beautiful I see blue everywhere; In paintings, photographs—even the air There are no crayons that can capture it Not even color codes on computers can match her eyes Her eyes are the space between the rippling depths of the ocean and the shards of reflected sky They are the eyes that squint a bit as she smirks because she thinks she's sly No matter how much I glance to the left during lunch The color escapes my mind and simply becomes a concept In my thoughts frustration likes to roam If it weren't for the non-existent green, her eyes would look like sea foam But here is no green— Only hundred year old glaciers, rivers, and stormy skies I don't even know what blue is anymore As angering as they are, her eyes are still something I adore I'm tempted to just ask her what color they are, But that would mean that I don't pay attention To do so would be like mistaking a stranger for your dad Everyone will become apprehensive and think that I have gone mad Her placid gaze tends to bore through my shell I feel vulnerable— like she can see my dilapidated soul But I know that she means no harm; She is amiable and full of charm Who knew blue could mean so much And still be convoluted? Blue washes the shore with the push and pull of the tides Blue has managed to stain my thoughts and dye my insides
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Blue
Cobalt. Gunmetal. Pastel. Powder. Forget-me-not. Out of all the blues, She has the eye color with no name The eye color that is slowly driving me insane. Who gave her the right? To have something so beautiful I see blue everywhere; In paintings, photographs—even the air There are no crayons that can capture it Not even color codes on computers can match her eyes Her eyes are the space between the rippling depths of the ocean and the shards of reflected sky They are the eyes that squint a bit as she smirks because she thinks she's sly No matter how much I glance to the left during lunch The color escapes my mind and simply becomes a concept In my thoughts frustration likes to roam If it weren't for the non-existent green, her eyes would look like sea foam But here is no green— Only hundred year old glaciers, rivers, and stormy skies I don't even know what blue is anymore As angering as they are, her eyes are still something I adore I'm tempted to just ask her what color they are, But that would mean that I don't pay attention To do so would be like mistaking a stranger for your dad Everyone will become apprehensive and think that I have gone mad Her placid gaze tends to bore through my shell I feel vulnerable— like she can see my dilapidated soul But I know that she means no harm; She is amiable and full of charm Who knew blue could mean so much And still be convoluted? Blue washes the shore with the push and pull of the tides Blue has managed to stain my thoughts and dye my insides
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Where's the ventriloquist throwing voices around like whistling stray dogs the voice and the vision a crystal ***** whispering with mud in the mouth the ***** doesn't lie a yammering vantwilaquist who's voice springs from a blood cream corridor with electric lips and rainbow flesh a lost beast dazzled in endless wander lust in search of a scarlet women surrounded only by aspiring virgins sworn to be true by desolations caress in black ash weddings with white frilly dresses weeping for delicate cruelties they will never know his father a falling star his soul an undulating cobalt shrine to her who he can not find a catalog of discrepancies a noxious experiment with a wandering eye lust ****** embattled between reason and passion is that look your giving me shorthand psychic humiliation for my vile indiscretions I'm trembling to visit upon you I'm wearing my face like window dressing hiding the obscenity of my true will behind a curled lip eyes down cast hoping to use you like a vacant room to smear the walls and floors with your flesh like ************ glitter too bad i'm outnumbered by good people there are sky-fulls of them agitated with moral concerns ruining my life with logic those scoundrels got pedigree ideologies religion folded ears and moving lips all monkeys see and monkeys do who are they and were is their ventriloquist
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
THE VANTRWILAQUIST
Upon the shores of Malachite Next to the cobalt seas Under molten silver slivers of moonbeams That shatter on the crystal icing Covering the diamonded waterfall By the golden sand . . . Gather the Unicorns Of Neptune , Uranus , and Pluto and beyond Playfully cavorting between Steel seas and emeralded mountains On the frozen sands of time unchanged For a thousand Earth's comings But it's just a dream A lunacy , a nothingness in the night All my Unicorns have taken to flight And were never there Or were they ? All the frozen seas . . . Are now warm Florida Keys Under a full August moon And all the mountains . . . Are impossible fears That have faded into prairies Swelling like seas And there are no proof prints In the sands of time Of a far away race Frozen in time
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
By The Shores Of Malachite
He has brutalised your beauty And made you fragile. Tears tremble on cobalt lashes Bruised, bewildered Goddess fallen, Breaking as you fell. You sought and brought happiness, warmth and abundance, But lived, it seemed, a life of anything but. Now facing a vindictive rage You must remain stoic. Your mythical namesake Found no comfort or pleasure in retaliation, or revenge. He is incapable of love And will never back down. You will need to find the strength to match His angry bile with wile and guile His iciness with fire, Remorseful honesty shows him A cold, and bitter liar.
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
The Plight of Hera
Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil. Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe. Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking. Incinerating flames that lick the grate. Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same. Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice, My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind. Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you. Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff. Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality. Let me get to know you and all your originality. Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions. Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time. Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ********* your sense of self-esteem. Dear, let me dream your dreams. Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain. Don’t let the pressure get to you. Passion may play a key part in the sway! Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives. Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes. Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions. Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods. Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom. Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst! Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent. Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy! Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses. Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words. Dear, let me dance with your intelligence until we sink into oblivious mind-sex bliss…….
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Brain ****
Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil. Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe. Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking. Incinerating flames that lick the grate. Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same. Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice, My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind. Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you. Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff. Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality. Let me get to know you and all your originality. Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions. Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time. Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ********* your sense of self-esteem. Dear, let me dream your dreams. Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain. Don’t let the pressure get to you. Passion may play a key part in the sway! Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives. Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes. Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions. Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods. Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom. Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst! Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent. Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy! Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses. Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words. Dear, let me dance with your intelligence until we sink into oblivious mind-sex bliss…….
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The water paints with sound redamancy upon the shore and our hearts. And the cascade reminds me Time can be beautiful, Love is first shallow, And then deep, Oh, so deep, my love, The color of shale and cobalt We sit on the rocky shore And stack stones into a cairn Making the moment, the place. Finally, he says, *we’ve seen the ocean Together.* As if seeing the vastness of Resurrection Bay Perfects our Pacific love Deepening. We skip a few rocks To test the shallows To find the deep To discover what we believe awaits us In the future: Love like waves Pulled by the moon-- My hand pulled by yours To go home.
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Redamancy:
Perhaps I am simple I love simple things Glass, blown or slubbed Crystal or colored Cobalt Emerald Cranberry Rose Sparkling in sunlight Catching the flame These simple pleasures Bring me joy As much as any gem Exception, the Opal Begins life as water Seeps into stone Becomes over time Fire within water Shadow of aeons Life within stone Water gone solid As solid as glass, and as fragile 4Apr2002
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
Colored Glass
I had walked miles that day. Finding myself in these old Los Angeles side streets, was to travel back in time. Bougainvillea, overflowing with color, festooned the weathered cedar cottages. Heavy trumpet flowers, sleepy in the filtered light, stirred beside huge green leaves, in the easy marine air. I walked on.   Evening had come, and with it, a few stars shone over the ocean. After a perfect dinner, I still craved a bit of sweetness on my tongue. Walking back from the end of the pier under deep cobalt, the night sky held me. Just ahead, tiny birthday candles,   and warm, kind faces, welcomed me into their midst. Softly, they sang 'Las Mañanitas' in one voice, and I sang with them. Someone's hand reached out to me; a thin paper cake plate, heavy with treasure, was silently offered. Tres Leches, soaked with tender love and milky sweetness. Heaven could only be more of this.
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
Dulce de Vida
A black veil cloaked My cobalt heart My soul was scarlet Before being torn apart An iris clutched to my chest Petals fell by my toes When you chose the hyacinth Over the golden rose With shattered mirror shards You severed the chain Precious as a cat's eye Melted by flames
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
A Severed Friendship (Symbolism Poem)
Sociopathic spiritualist Confused by this? Ya gettin' the jist Years in a green mist Gorilla ****** at the sight of poachers hi-viz Blatant thievery Gettin' me irate & militant Conductin' information like a cobalt filament Hippocracies imminent If you don't know the deal look at Africa's innocents The future for a fee Monitory Cold as the Chukchi seas If your wonderin' where they be? Let go of Albert Square & check your geography Menace to sobriety Rudarellis playin' tennis with the moods it's supplyin' me Preachin' no class As Hittin' the mirror like the mans buyin' me
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Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 7:27 AM UTC
Con-fusion.
Golden shawls envelope flushing, blending fabrics which billow  under the waxen blackbird's silky braided feathers. Heaven's vault, a celestial sphere of blue yonder, a swirling palette of oils suffusing and dancing, wrapping their ringlets into one thousand spirals which signet shadows onto the  slender impressions in the sog. Illuminous, voluminous salmon bleaches blushing black tissue to pale primrose promising the cobalt then marrying to aquamarine. Stained glass fingers barely protruding from aurelian pews.
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
A mood for sunsets