Why are you stretching around?
Like a crazy creature, stretching
And erecting at every bossom’s sight
Don’t you know this to be vile?
Behavior so uncouth and basest
That all men on earth dislike,

Leave me alone master, leave me alone
Show me a happy man without a ****,
I will show you the sorriest point on earth,
Which woman burst not with ecstasy?
On taste of my nature, which woman?

Shut up you sly creature
And manage you mandibles,
You always stretch and stretch
As if you want to lacerate my muscles,
Don’t you know that you put me in risk?
*** is all over and you stretch like crazy,

Leave me alone and let me stretch,
Don’t fear disease and risks,
For *** is now impotent
***** blood is now natured
Above any nonsensical vice
Like *** and his brothers,

Stop stretching or I chop you off
I don’t want any burden of next kid
I am not in any pocket fitness,
For one more mouth and one more ****,

You are a foolish coward
You fear even your success,
Who told you kids are a burden
And parenting a curse?
Beautiful liars taught you these,
Can’t you see china and Islamic State?
Declaring their muscles and mighty,
For no other reason but children
Surest quivers needed in your arch,

For sure don’t stretch, calm down
And stay balmy or I tear you off my torso
Where will I get land in this world?
To contain the useless proceeds
Of your raucous *****?

I am tired of cautioning you
Or I dare you and dare you again
That perhaps I am on the wrong body
Those who are few need land,
But those who are populous need not,
For their victuals come from tertiary means,

I am finally tired of your rudeness,
If you stretch again I will be irate,
As it will be uncouth act of mannerlessness,
For you surely know that my wife is aged
She shares not in your school anymore
If you stretch again know then that you’re vile,

Look again at your thoughtlessness
Who told you that I am condemned forever?
To be feeding on old women, harridans and *****?
I no longer want them on my ****** menu
Feed me on the young wenches in a polygamous fit,
For the elders like you and many others on earth,
will only renew their  old sinews
By merely feeding on the French chicken,

Then you persist in one line like the possessed
Are you possessed by the ****** devil?
I don’t have any ****** energy for your business,
You only put me into a desire for what I cannot eat,
Leave me alone by quitting your vicious *******,

Fear not at all for how you will eat,
You fail to enjoy because of your ego,
You focus on the finish line alone,
Remember  the process in coition,
Tighten you **** to delay *******
And here you will cogitate with gusto,

Negroes! Negros! All over the world,
Again you want me to make more Negros,
Be aware that your melanin is an eyesore
The world looks at you but in pain,
Suppliers of blinkers cannot quench,
The thirst for these wares,
With which the world can put on,
To ward off the pains in the look
At the skin of the *****,

Fear not Negros don’t create themselves,
They come from the supremo of deities
All creation is beautiful in wisdom’s eyes
Whoever that hates creation hates the self
No other act can then match the wickedness.

The everlasting wisdom perpetually transforms. It narrates unknown,
Uttering the verses of its love in winds and snows.

It rains and calms from day to day,
It ceases only in the summertime;
For a halt
Is also gay in its own way.

It will urge precipitations,
Warn us,
Coax us to beat in flocks.
While it never leaves a mark
On the azure dome,
For the ceiling is the face,
It has traces on the boiling rock,
Ancient earth,
And on my holey socks.

The holy "wisdom" is
Merely the way perceived
By me.
Solely an imaginary bliss.

Though the mind elevates,
Sublimes it. After, states
That the chemical occasional coition,
Which is way up high,
Bears all the answers,
To my weird childish whys.

A person with intentions to love forever only deflowers.
I was wrong, I remember
Those nights, it was nothing but plum kisses from left to right
And your nose tickling my stomach.
Zestful.

All the blood would flow to my head.
Making me pink with ecstasy.
The nectarous smell of excretion fulfilled an image
And our fingers--- they would intertwine as if you felt I would slip away.
Sensational… amorous!

You would look me in the eyes, I would
look you in the eyes, a message would travel
this is more than just coition. Well in my
noggin I believed that. You wear a good look, callous.
I’ve been dumbfounded.

I look in the mirror. I am a stranger
To what I see. I now feel stripped
From my myself, your pupils have seen it all. You did this.
I feel disgusted, letting you dine
As if I was a restaurant. Twiddling and fumbling
As if you were blind and I was braille.

I now bathe in regret. Scrubbing
Till I can no longer feel your touch.

Gnawing thoughts;
Biting beats on brain'
Yawning dots'
Sizing them both insane.

                 Or perhaps plain:

His head hurts'
At their single home;
She wears only long skirts.

                      Darling;

Do we surpass our shys;
Being too afraid'
To show our insides?

Shy as a tall mountain'
Hiding behind clouds:
Seems for this first,
We both have a lot to climb.

Beneath the water lived a nymph, beautiful as
A flower, if you like woman with petals
Growing from out of their face
And lips adorned with myriad metals
Moving silently with infinite grace.

Fishermen who caught her, in alarm
Tossed her back with dismayed cries
Fearful that she would do them harm
When she exposed her fangs, darting from her eyes,
Forked tongues from each palm.

But apart from all that, she was a delightful creature
As proud as a catwalk model
Sexuality impressed into each feature
Death in each cuddle,
Poison injected from each freshly opening suture.

At the sea’s dark bottom lived the nymph
Devouring fish raw, terrifying sharks and barracuda,
Dining on shellfish and prawns for lunch;
Darting amongst Angel Fish and eels, a hungry aficionada,
Tearing into shreds what she could not crunch.

Gentle with her own kind until coition
Was complete, when if hungry she devoured
Her temporary mate without undue consideration,
No please or thank you. Feeling duly empowered
By her actions, as confirmed by her explosive, acrid indigestion.

No longer young, her children dead,
She glides through the water from China to France
A preposterous seaweed hat upon her head
And in several places, impaling her scaly flesh a serrated coral branch.
Her sartorial taste filling even the sharks with fin-quaking dread.

The last of the kind. The others are (literally) toast.
Protected by animal charities here and abroad
She gladly subsists on ambitious swimmers who venture far from the coast
All she can now catch or afford.
A capricious tyrant until the last, when, victim of a fisherman’s boast

She was hoist up like iniquitous cod
Out of the sea, paraded on the deck while she struggled for breath.
Shot at. Abused. Poked and speared with a steel tipped rod,
Dragged into the harbour, pummelled close to death.
Screaming out, as she in unexpected agony died: “I thought, I truly thought, I was god!”

She noticed the basking shark was wounded,
weeping vaginal blood.
The tall man in a fedora whispered as he passed.
Whipped by exploratory waves, she blushed.
The horizon was a hazy green line dipped in red.
She had been there since morning
searching for love,
and found it
from a six-pack merman offering solace
as he rode on the silvery
back of a ray.
As he approached, the sun at his back,
she moaned and threw out her arms
like a supplicant.

Complete at last, the sand grasping at
her shoeless feet, she sank
towards the earth’s distant core
using her arms as uncertain ballast.

She awoke with a shiver
brushed away the sand
and headed back home.
The shark had turned belly-up,
scavenged by seagulls.

Another day-dream enjoyed in the
empty hours between lunch and dinner
between her third cup of tea
and fourth cigarette,
her children snoozing in
the back bedroom. Half-slumbering
in a town barked at by bothersome seagulls
where an unencumbered sun
set on a postcard shoreline.
Planning the rows of petunias to be
planted by the hedge,
making shopping lists,
writing novels, never to be published,
staring out of her windows at the sea
she waited for her husband’s return,
tedious evenings of T.V.
and coition under the brightly coloured duvet.
The waves that overwhelmed her, flooding her senses,
were her own. The man
in the fedora had made her smile.

Before sunset
pure Lysergic acid diethylamide
Beach
Slight coolness to the air
Places tab Upon tongues

Lips brush
One hour into journey
consciousness expanding
kaleidoscopic gaze
Peculiar colors

The waves dance in a jazz like pattern
softly he runs his fingers delicately through my scalp and constricts my hair like a snake wrapping its long smooth body around the mouse, its prey or lover

I lean closer
our lips brush, our cheeks blush
so do our surroundings they turn a ravishing tickled pink hue

gently we sink
and melt into grains of sand
gentle coition, his charming motion

idiosyncratic complexion casted on our bare frames
rich reflections of golden yellow and deep lilac

Dazed Graze

dusk to dawn
drawn to musk

Where is my mind?
was this just a mundane muse once again?
Where is my otherworldly lover?

Unknown.

Can the skin of my lips touch again the soft suppleness of yours?
I like the euphoria that races down my spine and spreads through me like fever;
Weak and lightheaded, I am painfully vulnerable to its effect.
Giddy like a child to know you feel it too as we linger pressed together.

Can we meld again our faces and make our tongues dance?
I crave the taste of the mint that still haunts your house;
With eyes closed, I greet the endorphins with playful giggles.
Your hands clasped in mine, we brace for the onslaught of our zeal.

Can we again have our souls collide within the envelope of our breaths?
I long for the dizzy heights aloft of my infinite love of you;
Your arms around my neck forcing my head to meet yours with haste.
My hands cradling your backside, drawing our bodies yet closer together.

Can we repeat again the wordless speech, the slow mind coition?
I fancy my heart a metronome escalating a beat in syncope with your own.
A little nibble, a teasing bite, a nosh if you will, as if your silk lined set were food stuffs with gravy.
I suckle the lower lip as if it were an areolar protuberance feeding my infantile psyche.

Can I again passionately conjoin your mouth with mine, and hold you there in my thoughts?
Can I dare evoke the feelings I so wholeheartedly embrace, and return them to you with fervor?
Can we share each other in spontaneity as a hello or goodbye, again my love forever?

Please...!

Can I kiss you again?

-----ChawzzyScript

Adolf ****** was a German I'm sure you all well know:
He was born in Austria but lived in Germany a long time ago.
He was a man who was fuelled by patriotic ambition,
(he had other things on his mind apart from ******* and coition).

The German people were the victims of economic recession,
Caused by the French government's revanchist aggression,
And der schoene Adolf promised he would sort out the place,
And would restore them to their rightful position as ze Master Race.

With stirring speeches and a fantastic propaganda machine,
His political opponents and ze Jews he loudly demeaned,
And thus, plus a teensy-weensy bit of naughty oppression,
He was able to fulfil his great and glorious mission.

Although some Germans re ****** were a little bit unhappy,
Most of them thought he was a really top rate chappie;
The rest of the world remained relatively silent on the matter too,
Not realising just what old Adolf really intended to do.

In the USA they gave him place of honour on the front page of 'Time'
Which surely sent out to Adolf quite a hopeful sign;
And secretly millions cheered him on when they got the news
Of what he and his cronies were doing to those Jews.

When a man like ****** you choose to blithely ignore
Then you should work out that what comes next is war;
Which is what happened with a Bang! Crash! Boom! and Thump!
But ******'s not nearly half as ugly as that awful Donald Trump.

THE NYMPH

Beneath the water lived a nymph, beautiful as
A flower- if you like women with petals
Growing from out of their face
And lips adorned with myriad metals
Moving silently with infinite grace.

Fishermen who caught her, in alarm
Tossed her back with dismayed cries
Fearful that she would do them harm
When she exposed her fangs, darting from her eyes,
Forked tongues from each palm.

But apart from all that, she was a delightful creature
As proud as a catwalk model
Sexuality impressed into each feature
Death in each cuddle,
Poison injected from each freshly opened suture.

At the sea’s dark bottom lived the nymph
Devouring fish raw, terrifying sharks and barracuda,
Dining on shellfish and prawns for lunch;
Darting amongst Angel Fish and eels, a hungry aficionada,
Tearing into shreds what she could not crunch.

Gentle with her own kind until coition
Was complete, when if hungry she devoured
Her temporary mate without undue consideration-
No please or thank you. Feeling duly empowered
By her actions, as confirmed by her thunderously satisfied indigestion.

No longer young, her children dead,
She glides through the water from China to France
A preposterous seaweed hat upon her head
And criss-crossing her piebald nose a serrated coral branch.
Her sartorial taste filling even the sharks with fin-quaking dread.

The last of her kind. The others are (literally) toast.
Protected by animal charities here and abroad
She gladly subsists on ambitious swimmers who venture far from the coast-
All she can now catch or afford.
A capricious tyrant until the last, when, victim of a fisherman’s boast

She was hoist up like iniquitous cod
Out of the sea, paraded on the deck while she struggled for breath.
Shot at. Abused. Poked and speared with a steel tipped rod,
Dragged into the harbour, pummelled close to death.
Screaming out, as in unexpected agony she died: “I thought, I thought, I was god!”

tangled passion
fluids intermingle
animalistic combination
insatiable power

lips mashed
bodies pressed
lust ignited
there is no enough

****** combustion
full blast collision
gas pedal floored
libido explosion

wrecked
sheets tangled
arms and legs akimbo
gratification and satisfaction

The star-gate crystals are clear
calm in energetic planetary power
they balance and pattern life
the eclipse of galactic alignment

Inside the code is a vision sung
a visitation of the gods of the pyramid
with ears and mind, secreted in a vault
a tidal change of global distribution

The land where gods are humans
scribed on the walls and columns
a father consummates with daughter
whilst she parades her bosoms to others

Time travelled spas of radiant beams
waters bubbles with innate channels
coition to exchange ****** energy
a life force extension of the star-gate

UNANSWERED



How strange it was to see her there
After so much suffering. Her dying marriage
A bleeding and untreated smear,
Disguising a love neither would salvage.
The music played, the guests danced
With savage partners whose love retreated and advanced.  

His awkward lover lingers quietly in the room
By turn shade, shadow, and silhouette,
She sways slowly to each repeated tune
Too triumphantly passionate to experience regret.
Mistress and wife exchange no glance, assuming ignorance
Of each other’s uncomfortable presence.


The loss of another’s love can wound
More brutally than the lover’s death
The secession of an intimate bond
Becomes a winding, coagulating mess.
When lovers connect they forget
What broke when they met.


A slow guitar riff makes her weep.
She takes my hand. She calls me friend.
I smile, with thoughts of my own to keep,
My own unanswered love to tend.
I kindly wipe away her tears,
But not my own. Those I’ve kept for years.


Beautiful songs, erratically played,
He glances towards her, smiles and leaves,
She turns away, both destroyed and dismayed,
Stands silently in the septic light and grieves.
I take her hand, but she pulls quickly away
I offer her a drink. She declines and will not stay.


I buy another whisky at the bar, tossing it down.
In a cruelly dissipating cloud, her fresh perfume lingers
Mimicking her constant image.  My phone rings and I frown.
My forgiving wife is calling. With guilt and regret, my fingers
Tighten around the glass. I say: “Honey, I’ll be home soon.”
And, like others, leave the signifying gloom.


Touched by the sharp morning light
Half-empty glasses, abandoned halls,
Breaking out from the hasty coition of the night
Love radiates, caresses, falls.
When ubiquitous lovers combine it highlights briefly
How lonely it leaves those who grasp at love weakly.

she ..... he

she, as sweet as honey. doe-eyed tender splendor. the sun braids her hair, the moon wipes her tears. day & night, she can only carry herself. teacup girl, you can hold her eggshell ego in your palm
calm.
she's a woeman or a wooman.
she, rue and blue. nocturnal ocular. inamorato inane. crazy stupid love, crazy stupid ladylove. predator of pure perpetual bliss, his kiss ~
she's laughter, guffaw and raw. she's cute, twee and sweet. she's every ability capable of catastrophe jealousy jalousie jade, unafraid.
a tectonic plate girl, a train wreck looking for equanimity tranquility.
a cat scratch female.
a female severe thunderstorm, warning.
auburn hair, dribbling like transferred decant hazelnut coffee
brewed shampoo sheen, his palms pouring with bountiful bliss
a cup of her.
wearing a pearl choker around her neck, she's his oyster
ready to be eaten, raw
his dear delicacy
ostentatious ritz
risqué getup glitz
lush.
he feeds her frenzied, hot, hunger for her concupiscent daydream
in actuality he has a haughty personality, between her hips arousal drips.
he's her peach, beseech with fervent fever for innocuous intimacy; enmesh and evoke in ease, please the plead we need.
he's her contour, the silhouette that invokes her earnestly and summons her evoked despondent deity, bring vigor and satisfactory vengeance.
on her mother-naked body, be the fabric that nukes her raw reprehensible physique,
be sinful, spiteful, senseless
in the way they drape.
breathe in her arousal
breathe in her lust,
touch her yearned wants and needs
touch her hankering hands,
kiss her passion
kiss her pain,
coition.
(k.m.m.)

My thoughts aren't always pretty, really, they can be cruel and relentless. They can be droll and demonic. My mind is making me turn myself into all the things I never wanted to be. I like to say, "what an actress" to myself, as I fill desolate rooms with life and character, laughter, a euphoria of jubilation - when I'm "an actress" around a horde of people, friends, Loved Ones, The Ones Nearest and Dearest to My Heart. They gaggle, like a flock of geese, and when your mind is pounding, with a swollen brain, you try to forget; the things that can never love you back, the things that haunt me in varying intervals, etc --- only one person can make me feel my version of Normal, where my humanity of normalcy comes to play --- where I'm up to par with my getting myself together, and, you, being the 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 2 cups of warm water, and 1 cup of apple cider vinegar that heals my dry cracked hands. That's YOU. You're my peach, I beseech you with fervent fever for your innocuous intimacy; we enmesh and evoke in ease, we please the plead we need. There's fickleness whim, in the way our soul cases analog; we allow stymie in the progression of our relationship and we allocate adornment. I'm the sin of sacrilegious sacrilege, the sin of my lips sipping your pureness out of a chalice; but, yet, I wear white. I want you to breathe in my arousal, breathe in my lust, touch my yearned wants and needs, touch my hankering hands, kiss my passion, kiss my pain, coition - on my mother-naked body, be the fabric that nukes my raw reprehensible physique, let's (both) be sinful, spiteful, senseless in the way we drape. Be my contour, be the silhouette that invokes my earnestly and summons my evoked despondent deity, bring vigor and satisfactory vengeance.
(k.m.m.)

How long?
Must I search this unplentiful Terra cotta,
Where wherin there's no ardor!!!

I seek a dame of barter,
A like minded poetress
Where she can unvape mine vest and release all the days tensions and mine affliction!!!!

A king and queens invention!!!!

How long?
Must I partion vows not seen?
Trade all mine hopes for cracked walk dreams,
And be a guest to mine own dillema!!!!

How long?
Shall I try to give thine all to one who's not there,
Nor doesn't call,
For ignorance to me is quite noticeable!!!

What's wrong the boys thou chooses excite you by nice ride?
With him you get high for a moments click to stardom!!
Folly indeed!!!!

I seeketh a special breed,
The kind that chamelionizes,
The one where no chastisement is known nor mentioned!!!

Her hand to be mine extension I giveth this anima,
Wherein conglomeration is ourn own villa,
And coition brings us to sanguine beautitude!!!!

What an inclination of proposes!!!

Are you ?
a monotony of the calling bell to dissolve like any other sound?
No --- never--
you came
like the blossom of lily and brought in the silent serene scent,
like the ever desired guest to add purity to each corner of my abode

Are you ?
the round mark of the bottom of the cup on marble top to wipe out?
No --- never--
you embossed
the sweet chirping of birds along with the shades of seasons,
nodding in vase, to tickle the dreams of my drawing room.

Are you ?
the bed that soaked with the longing of our curves
ever it be dried not to trace the spirit of glimpses?
No --- never--
you taught
the tranquility of coition of souls
pollination of mind and heart in the flower of body ----

Are you ?
the fare-well marks of feet on the dew to vanish in time?
No --- never--
you are
the navigator, rowing upon the tide towards the east ---

you are
not a simple land-mine to blast in the quietness of grave --
you are
the red signature of every encounter on the tender green forest--
you are
the red-sun on my fore-head of future
the native tribal song on my lips
you are my companion.. my guide..
you are the call of the dawn..

I am the anxiety searching for your news every second.
I am the fear not willing to hear about any martyrdom !!!
And I love you as I love myself, awaiting the serene scent ...

Crushed leaves in an old book

Squandered memories;

In the dark, an old woman speaks

Softly

Through cracking teeth

Of an ancient fast disappearing love

Looking for the light.


‘As my future is invisible

I live in the past,

Scrounging memories

From fading dreams.’


Her words gently rustle.

Reconstructing the past

A straddling child

Mimics her toothless sounds.


‘I remember ***

I remember caresses

I remember coition’.


The rambling hours end in a sigh

The quiet voice in a whisper.

Time is a walk away.

Is it true
people after coition
inherit a type of feeling
close to 'blue'?