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"coltish" poems
In my small, soft belly Excitement builds. Exquisite little judders pull As if you possess a magnet for pleasure And have buried deep inside me What you want to attract. I place my hand a little lower And sigh, wondering why The mere thought of you sets me a-trembling Like a first-time racehorse, eager for the course. I am coltish, nerves thrumming, Imaginary music humming Through my heart, my head. Take me to your bed. Take me where you will, To all the places within you, Make my home your body and soul. Eat me, I am gourmet flesh For this epicurean adventure I am longing personified Oh, you - ah - you - are perfect Let me taste your heart.
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Pleasure is the greatest good
The kaleidoscope patterns of our footprints in the sand And those of the seagulls that litter the beach Like black and white winged pebbles Are slowly being washed away by the rising water line, Time and the encroaching tide welcoming us Into the sea, with the Dolphins and the mermaids Swimming and lounging on little mountains of rock Close to the shore, beckoning us into their world. Our world lies further back, behind the tide line, The umbrellas and sunscreen and such To shield us from the blazing sun That sustains all life in their realm and ours, And is, perhaps, the first and strongest connection we share In this blinding world of sand and sunshine, Where we and them become us. We wade into the sea, all tentative, coltish legs And shivers as the waves crash over us. Everything turns magical as we dive in, The underwater world blinding us with It's salty, sandy currents and steams, But through the rose tint borne Of our foreignness in this place, All I can see are dreams coming true. A lady of the sea paddles up to us, Offering us her treasures if we'll come Live in her coral home and breathe the same salt water, And I, lost in her world, found in her beauty, Reach out to take her pale hand in mine, And become as she says, "I am yours, forever now, as you are forever mine."
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:11 AM UTC
Song of the Sea
Stay away from the blue-eyed boy down the road because God knows blue-eyed boys are trouble. He's poured ice in his chest and painted his thin lips red to convince you they still have life. Instead, find the boy with dark eyes and coltish legs and feed him flowers blooming from cacti and honey warmed over the stove and watch his features soften under your touch. And let yours soften too.
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
Remember // A Warning
Rose redoubt Rose few, in the hate we fed Rose acts, when charisma is a pout Rose timid, with a live for all ahead Round eyes of decorum, vice in a wandering hope Let to take, a tryst of potential... Long if tooth, a wholesome day to arrive with our own Here is my naivete, and a steads sulking breeze so beautiful... When the world is rounder for a secret asking, to fulfil... Promise me, a livid course, a golden truth To the wanted more, when we are a soul of will The tone of our voice, becomes the drama and decency of accepting youth? Sophistication in a moment alone, with the weight of the world Seemingly not, before the needs of others, worth is a means to amends...? And the coltish example of the future, a repose of justness so early That a miracle in the form of a wish, is a simplicity we lend? Tales of the reach, the romance of curious senses And the heart of essence, we know even will... When boding hours are to be, the callous works of a world come to ends With a handful of what miracles were, a common where to the liberty of silence, so real
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Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 2:37 PM UTC
Given A Simple Gift, Of Poignant Wishes
Here I am, I'm breathless And you, you're just the same. My recollections failed to serve you Justice once again. The sight of you has chased away The numbness of my limbs. My beacon cheeks are fire bright; My widened eyes; a-swim. And everything is rushing back And hanging on my lips, Unspoken words that surge and rush Like blood to fingertips. I wish my eyes were ocean tides That rose over and crashed, So I could saturate your core And make my presence last. Oh, that those waves could draw you out And pluck your from the shore I'd carry you away with me To where we were before. *Original, Unrhymed Notes Here I am, and I'm breathless And you're just as I remember you The sight of you has chased away the cold And I'm a beacon, all flushed cheeks And wide eyes My coltish knees locking And suddenly I cannot make the words That will carry be across this Invisible ocean Break across you like an all-consuming wave.*
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
Once More (Breathless)
Hopeful maiden, Mistress of cotillions, Depthless, devoid of culture, Unquestioning, incurious, Seeks her warrior-beast-of-burden, A man's man, a sportsman of sorts, Yet sensitive and without ego, A staunch provider, Seeking beauty for its own sake, A coy, coltish fawn, un-artful, Un-fawning, who cannot keep a house, Hold her tongue nor navigate Social gatherings, one whose passion Is only on offer, never proffered, She seeks an old fashioned man Who appreciates her Mannish manner and business Acumen— artists, musicians, And above all penurious poets Need not apply, I wish To learn to cook one fashionable Day, I am working on Being famous, it is such A burden being lovely, Beautiful. Are all the good Men Married? Gay? Professional athletes, A-list actors, incarcerated Felons wanted, perfect Listeners needed, Kryptonians preferred.
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Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Maiden Waits (personals ad)
Hopeful maiden, Mistress of cotillions, Depthless, devoid of culture, Unquestioning, incurious, Seeks her warrior-beast-of-burden, A man's man, a sportsman of sorts, Yet sensitive and without ego, A staunch provider, Seeking beauty for its own sake, A coy, coltish fawn, un-artful, Un-fawning, who cannot keep a house, Hold her tongue nor navigate Social gatherings, one whose passion Is only on offer, never proffered, She seeks an old fashioned man Who appreciates her Mannish manner and business Acumen— artists, musicians, And above all penurious poets Need not apply, I wish To learn to cook one fashionable Day, I am working on Being famous, it is such A burden being lovely, Beautiful. Are all the good Men Married?  Gay? Professional athletes, A-list actors, incarcerated Felons wanted, perfect Listeners needed, Kryptonians preferred.
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Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
Maiden Waits (personals ad)
Hopeful maiden, Mistress of cotillions, Depthless, devoid of culture, Unquestioning, incurious, Seeks her warrior-beast-of-burden, A man's man, a sportsman of sorts, Yet sensitive and without ego, A staunch provider, Seeking beauty for its own sake, A coy, coltish fawn, un-artful, Un-fawning, who cannot keep a house, Hold her tongue nor navigate Social gatherings, one whose passion Is only on offer, never proffered, She seeks an old fashioned man Who appreciates her Mannish manner and business Acumen— artists, musicians, And above all penurious poets Need not apply, I wish To learn to cook one fashionable Day, I am working on Being famous, it is such A burden being lovely, Beautiful. Are all the good Men Married?  Gay? Professional athletes, A-list actors, incarcerated Felons wanted, perfect Listeners needed, Kryptonians preferred.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Maiden Waits ( personals ad )
The churl in spirit, up or down Along the scale of ranks, thro' all, To him who grasps a golden ball, By blood a king, at heart a clown; The churl in spirit, howe'er he veil His want in forms for fashion's sake, Will let his coltish nature break At seasons thro' the gilded pale: For who can always act? but he, To whom a thousand memories call, Not being less but more than all The gentleness he seem'd to be, Best seem'd the thing he was, and join'd Each office of the social hour To noble manners, as the flower And native growth of noble mind; Nor ever narrowness or spite, Or villain fancy fleeting by, Drew in the expression of an eye, Where God and Nature met in light; And thus he bore without abuse The grand old name of gentleman, Defamed by every charlatan, And soil'd with all ignoble use.
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1.1k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 111
Hopeful maiden, Mistress of cotillions, Depthless, devoid of culture, Unquestioning, incurious, Seeks her warrior-beast-of-burden,                                                             A man's man, a sportsman of sorts, Yet sensitive and without ego, A staunch provider, Seeking beauty for its own sake, A coy, coltish fawn, un-artful, Un-fawning, who cannot keep a house,   Hold her tongue nor navigate Social gatherings, one whose passion Is only on offer, never proffered, She seeks an old fashioned man Who appreciates her Mannish manner and business Acumen— artists, musicians, And above all penurious poets Need not apply, I wish To learn to cook one fashionable Day, I am working on Being famous, it is such A burden being lovely, Beautiful. Are all the good Men Married?  Gay? Professional athletes, A-list actors, incarcerated Felons wanted, perfect Listeners needed, Kryptonians preferred.
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Maiden Waits ( personals ad )
Watching the April northerly Blow the Spring away to sea from Galloway Towards Ireland The lee of the **** for shelter Low sun warming your face Massive frequent clouds, megalithic Dull below to towering snow-white heaven Their wind-driven gunmetal shadows rush out to sea The bay, at distance, a breastplate of pewter Beaten across with countless, tiny hammerings With animal purpose a shape moves slowly, Breaking the horizon heading for Man The breeze, coltish, struggling to be gone Headstrong with promise and challenge A fine day for such a crossing!
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Mar 18, 2011
Mar 18, 2011 at 2:21 PM UTC
Kirkdale
if i jot down the first syllable of your name, think nothing of it. if i convince myself with a startingly, dizzying clarity and call it a victory even if it means losing any semblance of my self-control around you, think nothing of it. if i conjure an image of you & i in my head and pretend we are some depressed intellectuals, self-hating provocateurs dressed up like some coltish, out-of-place ivy leaguers waiting on death row, think nothing of it. if i'm not careful around you, and slip on the snow that is the surface of your heart, think nothing of it. but if i tell you i love you, know that it means more than everything that means nothing.
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Jan 9, 2023
Jan 9, 2023 at 4:09 AM UTC
harvey
Old men have thigh gaps; wide expanses between those wizened poles, Skin hanging loosely from faltering limbs. Despite the thick broth gently forced down their weary throats, their creases are not smoothed out; the thigh gap remains. Memories of firm flesh haunt their dreams, Caress their night terrors. And all the while, Strutting models court Fluorescent catwalks; their coltish limbs permeated by crippling expectations. On all sides they fall, the weak and starving. Yet absence is not the sickness. Careful lies envelop full plates of food. Retching echoes accompany the slam of the bin. And as the pregnant waste spirals downwards, to the sound of sobbing, The old men smile And collapse.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
Untitled
West with the sailor Witness the pride, I make: We are the succinct, as a day were Worlds away from love, we notice our justice's sake Wish, for a dilemma in the seen... Taken with soul of service to an ideal Are we heard, are we here to collect, is he correct? Having the time of our lives, has the sun come to heal? A mercy in the western sky... With the whistles and salacious stares of a nobility Speed in your way? a stronger why? Saving guidance from a mutual lip, I know you for a liberty... Moons with a tear, smell like cheese Green as a coltish survivor, of a meant spoil, we share a tea Like liberty is a watching mouse, with a raging tomorrow to *** Look hard or surmise a bready nose, the day has come for the sea?! Night in the harbinger's arms, joins one Won with a stoic resolve, a decency has the moment to glow We are the people to beat, when avarice has no money How, is with me until a name is sweet as a flower, never sour... Names with a realm to their touch, honey Waiting on the soul of promises to become our own Can a sailor with a fishy breath, save you from a tongue of firey Draught; not draft, not drastic, not dramatic, not drones...?! Smile one less time, one more age? I have learned to marry... A question of pomposity's advice, that has curiosity for kind Comment and see this land, have a sigh we made, a heart to carry...
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Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 6:56 PM UTC
Won't Intuition Outrun A Harmony, Heed?
"Oh! That's so random." said the girl in pink. Her beautiful eyes an enamouring ice blue. She spoke with a vivacious smile as perky as a wink. "Oh? That's so random?" questioned the boy too. So as he stared into her eyes, A strong attraction like cloud to skies, He knew they weren't telling lies, And to his strange surprise. It was random, beating in tandem, His heart rate fluctuated, He finally said "my heart for you is random" With a coltish smile she said "i guess we must be fated"
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Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
Random