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"consummated" poems
1339 A Bee his burnished Carriage Drove boldly to a Rose— Combinedly alighting— Himself—his Carriage was— The Rose received his visit With frank tranquillity Withholding not a Crescent To his Cupidity— Their Moment consummated— Remained for him—to flee— Remained for her—of rapture But the humility.
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A Bee his burnished Carriage
Favorite word: “nymphet”, but no! Halcyon, a kind of drug, you know. Searching through the pages’ mist And imagined deeds Of poets’ needs… I found my favourite word, As asked, Neither sacred nor profane That describes the Venetian rain In my beloved’s eyes And the Florentine sun upon her hair: “Auburn, russet, mythopoeic”. Oh, it is not fair, To liken an object Of my lust and love To anything as mortal as autumn air! Nor “October’s orchard Haze”; She had her own Inscrutable, premeditated ways! Rather let me say that she was perfect, Though her eyes, pale and myopic, Her shuffling gait and Graceless limbs, to them Grace lends Fey charm, the power to mend My suffering and Delusions of a poet’s end As anything but pathetic, (Her mother’s fondness for vague emetics) And I left softly hanging, On a girl’s new taste, A tang of russet apples on her face, But no, not that, the sum Of my love, My Lo! Then her bleak demise, partly by my hand That none of you brutes could understand; The pure love, So sadly consummated, Between a lover And the one she hated Yet loved once with inexplicable delight, On one stolen, frightened night… In which the two of us agreed To satisfy a simple, yet maniacal need, And then depart… But I could not, You see; She was my life, My love, my heart. Humbert Humbert 1950 Sharon Talbot ca. 2005
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Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
October’s Orchard Haze
It’s been said to cause success, Yet its’ face is boldly grim. Some even say it makes or breaks you, Kills your soul, or fills the brim. It’s been deemed the roughest test, Where preparation meets implausible. Whenever passion makes a breakthrough Sounds of hell’s end become audible. It’s received reviews of stress, Of endless torture tearing through. Leaving good men self-departed, For they had no will to make it through. It’s been seen in years of the past, The trials of Job denote it well. As Satan crushed his joys, Job consummated to prevail. It’s been said, “show no regret!” When you look deep into your mind, For this test is truly an artist Creating a man, from pure divine. So why let discouragement corrupt Your trip through the abyss? For it’s been said to cause success, And that’s one hell of a gift.
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Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 1:03 PM UTC
Adversity
. Step out of your life, take my hand, walk with me. Deep to the heart of the forest, and we'll visit the bonding tree. Step out of your life, hold my hand, lets walk a while. To the magic woodland glade, just a few steps, just another mile. Step out of your life, grip my hand, tie the cord. We will jump the midnight fire, my Lady Leaf, your Green Lord. Step out of your life, kiss my hand, lose your dress. Sky-clad lovers on a mossy bed, natural union consummated, blessed. Step out of your life, holding hands, we'll walk together. I will step out of mine, hold your heart, promise you forever. Step out of your life, take my hand, walk with me. Handfasted lovers, blessed by nature, and witnessed by the bonding tree. © Pagan Paul (28/10/16)
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
The Bonding Tree
I was a child, then. When a stormy sea filled the air with hope, and salt. And there were hills to climb, to sit with you at the very top, in silent darkness. Where we held our breath and lied to ourselves, about what was wrong or right. The years passed us by. On that hill beside the ocean, where we consummated our long-awaited desires, and I felt sparkles on your lips; The same hill under which I found my reflection in a muddy pool of water. The grass beside it was so fine, and so green. A park bench at the top of a sunset hike through the native valley, in full bloom—wildflowers reflected our openness. Sandpapery stubble on your cheeks matched the texture between my thighs, which I kept only for you and nobody else. The day I knew you would never be back, the empty voicemail box, the repetition in rising each morning, without you.
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Mar 25, 2022
Mar 25, 2022 at 5:14 AM UTC
Ascend With Me, To Nowhere
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now— But this one, wears its merriment So patient—like a pain— Fresh gilded—to elude the eyes Unqualified, to scan—
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A happy lip—breaks sudden
I visualize you who I will never know, Constant Stranger I call you, I imagine you when I write and to think, you will never know me like the few who I am close to, those who say: I don't understand what you are talking about, but I know what you mean...you know there is no other poet on earth like me and I know there is no other poem in the uni- verse just like you and every two folks have there own way of loving, the poet and the poem know what they like, like the kind that takes us into different and strange countries until we realize at midnight, we are alone, you and I, Constant Stranger, anonymous mates whose love can never be consummated.
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Constant Stranger
Through the thunderstorms and mountains of an urban jungle. Luna met his lover. By sunrise, he has forgotten her name, and had to go, unknowing she has dissolved into him a long, long time ago. "In wisdom, Elohim created the world. So man may grow in spirit, another human was made from his rib and called woman. What was one was divided into two so they may know themselves better." Only in this separation and stranger distance, their delicate essential song. Consummated into the oceans as if for refuge. As he leaves the building to catch a bus home, he passes by a newsstand. On a business section: A Japanese company seeks to formalize commercial mass Whale killings for consumption.
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC
Moon of the Sun
You told me you loved me, a cursed lie from the cracked dead lips of a dead one. You see your words are rotten and putrid, flys around me like decayed flesh down to my very bones. Consumed I am now the living dead, my eyes are blind, my desire is you, and nothing will stop me til i taste you. You told me you loved me, from eyes that are old and weary. Seen things they shouldn't have, they are blind to the living. Exceptional delusional deceiving wonders of light, in the darkest deepest most terrible night. You tell me you love me, from areas of your body you knew never existed before. I am black and blue from arms that never held me, from the *** we never had. I am consummated by love and death, my virginity laid within your lifeless, blistered hands. You told me you loved me, and there are flames in your words. They lick the very part of me, like paper, i am ash, Falling through my own fingers, I am death known, and to myself i wonder, this is really love? As i watch love destroyed by love.
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
Amare est delere, et amari est deleri.
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died— A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom— The Corn, her furthest kernel filled Before the coming Flail— When These—leaned unto Perfectness— Through Haze of Burial—
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Midsummer, was it, when They died
1130 That odd old man is dead a year— We miss his stated Hat. ’Twas such an evening bright and stiff His faded lamp went out. Who miss his antiquated Wick— Are any **** for him? Waits any indurated mate His wrinkled coming Home? Oh Life, begun in fluent Blood And consummated dull! Achievement contemplating thee— Feels transitive and cool.
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That odd old man is dead a year—
what a value to writing earnst what a value to stay insane what a value awaking the pains what a value attack with offence what a value to stay stiff cold what a value to play bold the kaleidoscope of every state of feel any of which is void to display no to go in depth of deny lets not to scary so amiable guy under all that chain of trials is the same end: in the best case you will be eager consummated but never will face you any aid on revenge since even in underground samurai are dead
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
samurai are dead
wedded that day, on their way to El Paso, for two nights in a grand motel with TV, and AC they would splurge, for profligacy was not a sin at such times and a fat steer was sacrificed for it the radio filled the cab of the pickup with Tammy "Why-not" singing D-I-V-O-R-C-E they sang along, changing the letters to M-A-R-R-I-E-D, creating one cheerful cacophony in their shared space when the next tune started, he hit: a greasy buzzard, wingspan wide as a fence post was tall black as an oil slick the old windshield was no match for the vulture, and it was a vengeful one that crashed through Ronny's side glass, bone, feather and flesh tore into his sweet face like a chainsaw his blood blinding him Ronny turned so hard on that wheel the truck rolled, twice, landing them on the passenger side in an arroyo where he lay on top of her, gasping, his blood dripping generously on her "Ronny, Ronny..." her legs were numb, and she felt a warm liquid crawling down her back, one she knew was from her own head which smacked the roof so hard she was surprised her skull hadn't popped or maybe it had, for she saw double: two steering wheels; two setting suns; two mangled birds and two crimson faced Ronny's   who then had stopped gasping, and only slow breaths came from him, like a warm whisper on her cheeks--but only until the song ended and she knew, he was gone--and old verse came to her, from Psalms, from Matthew, and she knew, she was sure, someone would find them and make her whole, and resurrect Ronny for the good Lord would not do this to them, on this hopeful highway, before they consummated she harbored such a notion until her own eyes closed, and other dark birds came to find them, still, under her God's closed eye (1968, north of Marfa, Texas)
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
and not one sparrow falls...
wedded that day, on their way to El Paso, for two nights in a grand motel with TV, and AC they would splurge, for profligacy was not a sin at such times and a fat steer was sacrificed for it the radio filled the cab of the pickup with Tammy "Why-not" singing D-I-V-O-R-C-E they sang along, changing the letters to M-A-R-R-I-E-D, creating one cheerful cacophony in their shared space when the next tune started, he hit: a greasy buzzard, wingspan wide as a fence post was tall black as an oil slick the old windshield was no match for the vulture, and it was a vengeful one that crashed through Ronny's side glass, bone, feather and flesh tore into his sweet face like a chainsaw his blood blinding him Ronny turned so hard on that wheel the truck rolled, twice, landing them on the passenger side in an arroyo where he lay on top of her, gasping, his blood dripping generously on her "Ronny, Ronny..." her legs were numb, and she felt a warm liquid crawling down her back, one she knew was from her own head which smacked the roof so hard she was surprised her skull hadn't popped or maybe it had, for she saw double: two steering wheels; two setting suns; two mangled birds and two crimson faced Ronny's   who then had stopped gasping, and only slow breaths came from him, like a warm whisper on her cheeks--but only until the song ended and she knew, he was gone--and old verse came to her, from Psalms, from Matthew, and she knew, she was sure, someone would find them and make her whole, and resurrect Ronny for the good Lord would not do this to them, on this hopeful highway, before they consummated she harbored such a notion until her own eyes closed, and other dark birds came to find them, still, under her God's closed eye (1968, north of Marfa, Texas)
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The winter trees stand unclothed, branches reaching for each other with woody empathy craving their lovers touch, naked bodies of passion, their children lie red and amber, setting ablaze the verdigris blades, that hold them kindly, when their mothers can no longer carry them, the embrace breaks them down, allowing their earthy scent to creep to the nostrils of those who come to think a while, enjoying the fleeting sun on their backs for a time, on this frosty winter day, The traffic seems obsolete, if the whispering birds can learn, to ignore the engine rumbles as can I, the obsidian asphalt path carves delicately through this city sanctuary, like an old english dance, where courters would not touch their partner, but embrace the sweet proximity, and cherish the fire in their beloved's eyes, and soul. Water lies abandoned in the path, reflecting the eternal blue of the afternoon sky, an embodiment of tranquility, a connection that can never be consummated, a longing to be together again, the water envies the whisp of cloud that has retained the skies clinch, a ripple destroys the perfect portrayal, but to give way to two Blue **** absorbing its love, and releasing it to one another, as they speak to each other, and elope toward the emerging pearl moon. I brush my feet amongst the wood chip beds, mere remnants of once great trees, still huddling together in solidarity, as though trying to reform what once was, it makes me ponder of soul mates lost, clutching at the memories that once were, and pursuing to reforge a love that refuses to be broken, adoration manifest as young sapplings reach upward, sprouting from the shallow chippings, ready to blossom with memories once more.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
Sanctuary
The winter trees stand unclothed, branches reaching for each other with woody empathy craving their lovers touch, naked bodies of passion, their children lie red and amber, setting ablaze the verdigris blades, that hold them kindly, when their mothers can no longer carry them, the embrace breaks them down, allowing their earthy scent to creep to the nostrils of those who come to think a while, enjoying the fleeting sun on their backs for a time, on this frosty winter day, The traffic seems obsolete, if the whispering birds can learn, to ignore the engine rumbles as can I, the obsidian asphalt path carves delicately through this city sanctuary, like an old english dance, where courters would not touch their partner, but embrace the sweet proximity, and cherish the fire in their beloved's eyes, and soul. Water lies abandoned in the path, reflecting the eternal blue of the afternoon sky, an embodiment of tranquility, a connection that can never be consummated, a longing to be together again, the water envies the whisp of cloud that has retained the skies clinch, a ripple destroys the perfect portrayal, but to give way to two Blue **** absorbing its love, and releasing it to one another, as they speak to each other, and elope toward the emerging pearl moon. I brush my feet amongst the wood chip beds, mere remnants of once great trees, still huddling together in solidarity, as though trying to reform what once was, it makes me ponder of soul mates lost, clutching at the memories that once were, and pursuing to reforge a love that refuses to be broken, adoration manifest as young sapplings reach upward, sprouting from the shallow chippings, ready to blossom with memories once more.
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42
I conflicted you, confused you, I never meant to but you see baby I'm defective from past and present abuse misused, mistreatment, misdeeds, misconceptions recreated into what you see before you, an explosive mindless mess. I should of got help before letting you in... Should of fixed me before we began but you see papi I didn't want to, because it'd mean letting you go for another to ****** up. Ooh no I could never have that, so I hide my pain- until we fought and I blamed you when it was never even your fault, I tried to drown you in my anguish, causing you to become a beast instead of man! took away your self-esteem making you into what I believed I wanted, believed I needed- to become a better me. See papi I thought if you did all I asked and laid in my bed- things from my past would cease to exist. I thought once we became as one you'd pick up the burden of my broke heart mend me and fix what once was lost, help me to become better even thou I never knew what was yet best for me... I let you in, when I was wounded and while war was raging in my head... All I needed was you in my bed- inside of me pumping nothing but deceit as we consummated a lie, a dream, unrealistic fantasies and things that could never be but still I held on turning you into - what others have turned me to too. Letting you think your the only one when I had him them and those three. I could never love you because at the end of the day I barely ******* loved myself! Always Me Ayeshah ® Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977 - Present YEAR(s) All right reserved ®
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Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 1:25 AM UTC
MYSELF!
I conflicted you, confused you, I never meant to but you see baby I'm defective from past and present abuse misused, mistreatment, misdeeds, misconceptions recreated into what you see before you, an explosive mindless mess. I should of got help before letting you in... Should of fixed me before we began but you see papi I didn't want to, because it'd mean letting you go for another to ****** up. Ooh no I could never have that, so I hide my pain- until we fought and I blamed you when it was never even your fault, I tried to drown you in my anguish, causing you to become a beast instead of man! took away your self-esteem making you into what I believed I wanted, believed I needed- to become a better me. See papi I thought if you did all I asked and laid in my bed- things from my past would cease to exist. I thought once we became as one you'd pick up the burden of my broke heart mend me and fix what once was lost, help me to become better even thou I never knew what was yet best for me... I let you in, when I was wounded and while war was raging in my head... All I needed was you in my bed- inside of me pumping nothing but deceit as we consummated a lie, a dream, unrealistic fantasies and things that could never be but still I held on turning you into - what others have turned me to too. Letting you think your the only one when I had him them and those three. I could never love you because at the end of the day I barely ******* loved myself! Always Me Ayeshah ® Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977 - Present YEAR(s) All right reserved ®
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91
Let my wet lips welcome yours into the morning mist with a mingling of our desired breaths. Dig in to me as our tongues explore their roots like how the distant tree digs into the earth as she kisses the flaming sky. Girl the roots of your hair must moan in pleasure as my fingertips soothe them after pulling them in my unmeasured passion. My tongue 's wet with the desire to explore those forlorn parts of your frame, long craving of affection - sides of your **** grape-firm inner lines of your thighs that lead to the garden of eden. Oh the smell of that slippery refuge intoxicates my snake, let me rattle your soft depths in thrusts and leaps of mangled lust. Hold him, this incorrigible brat, in your palm, caress his lovelorn base, soft as only you can, kisses will do too, see how wet he's gone, sobbing for want of that silken touch of your moistened depths. Baby let me in, let me feel your moans sink into my skin as you bite me in embrace, your thighs curled over mine like branches of old trees in consummated love. Feel my heated embrace as you weigh down upon me deeper in your every passionate ****** Baby explode your feminine gush on me as you reach for the summits of mysterious O's.
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
Summits of mysterious O's.
990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night— A Hoary Boy, I’ve known to drop Whole statured—by the side Of Junior of Fourscore—’twas Act Not Period—that died.
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Not all die early, dying young
I awaited naked on the bed Waiting for the fireworks whilst Fragrant jasmine clung to the air My heartbeat hastened Waiting for you to come Chastened by my wanton ness All the while awaiting you Waiting to be cradled. Elated by the night's promise I sparkle in anticipation Overstimulated I fantasise Fireworks bang, clash and crash outside Untranslated lust leave me and The fireworks illustrated. You, are finally here My need to be consummated takes hold You dominate my fire worked state of mind and nakedness I shake and convulse like a sated rocket Assassinated on the bed, we culminate Wasted, elated Blazoned lovers out animate The fireworks.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Naked firework
Death never quells The tin ringing of its wedding bells. Our own flesh, betrothed To dirt, and consummated As a glossy wooden box penetrates Beneath the surface of the Earth. How we tailor time to match, A fitted formula that suits our thoughts. Trails of missed connections, Lead like breadcrumbs to The fraction of a second, when you spoke too soon. Your moment is lost. Words spoken Forever emblazoned on the stone slab Carried around as personality. What you always meant to say, Only ever reads as regret. We never count the steps Between triumph and catastrophe. Life is a burnt-out church house. A one-man quire Singing sorrow, match in hand.
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Jan 30, 2022
Jan 30, 2022 at 5:14 PM UTC
Fractions
Former lover, Indulge me this anguished plea, prefaced by this confession: You are the first and final piece of my soul. My lungs inhale air and exhale a prayer; A request to the divine forces that you remain whole, That no shred of your perfect self is stripped away, That the only thing that changes is how you perceive me. That whatever trespass or gaff on my part is ripped from memory That you hold even half of the opinion I hold of you. Before you carry out that box Of personal effects, Of joyous memories, Of melancholy epiphanies, Of sensuous encounters, Of laughs, Of tears, And all the material and otherwise classified fragments of this broken romance, Realize that I am a man in love with you, A creature on the brink of the chaotic crumble of his being, As the pillars of love gone would destroy the Parthenon. Former lover, Before your foot steps have finished echoing against my walls, Please heed the request of an explanation. Please grace this dead love with the dignity of reason, As opposed to leaving it in a cloud of an enigma, Abandoned like a fish on a dock, left to slowly suffocate. Abide this request as you would a dying man, As you are doing little more than killing me. Former lover, Letting you go will be like releasing a tightened vice, As my love for you is as a part of my being as my heart. Saying our last goodbyes, Sharing that final kiss that did little more than indulge me In wistful fantasies of an inevitable reunion, Consummated with regret, love, and reconciled with intimacy. Your goodbye left strings, Like a strand of saliva still connecting our lips even as you parted them. Former lover, You left the door open when you walked through it. How could you be so cruel?
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Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 2:45 PM UTC
Former Lover
Former lover, Indulge me this anguished plea, prefaced by this confession: You are the first and final piece of my soul. My lungs inhale air and exhale a prayer; A request to the divine forces that you remain whole, That no shred of your perfect self is stripped away, That the only thing that changes is how you perceive me. That whatever trespass or gaff on my part is ripped from memory That you hold even half of the opinion I hold of you. Before you carry out that box Of personal effects, Of joyous memories, Of melancholy epiphanies, Of sensuous encounters, Of laughs, Of tears, And all the material and otherwise classified fragments of this broken romance, Realize that I am a man in love with you, A creature on the brink of the chaotic crumble of his being, As the pillars of love gone would destroy the Parthenon. Former lover, Before your foot steps have finished echoing against my walls, Please heed the request of an explanation. Please grace this dead love with the dignity of reason, As opposed to leaving it in a cloud of an enigma, Abandoned like a fish on a dock, left to slowly suffocate. Abide this request as you would a dying man, As you are doing little more than killing me. Former lover, Letting you go will be like releasing a tightened vice, As my love for you is as a part of my being as my heart. Saying our last goodbyes, Sharing that final kiss that did little more than indulge me In wistful fantasies of an inevitable reunion, Consummated with regret, love, and reconciled with intimacy. Your goodbye left strings, Like a strand of saliva still connecting our lips even as you parted them. Former lover, You left the door open when you walked through it. How could you be so cruel?
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I'm your father I want you to read this very carefully I want you to understand something I love you I will always be proud of you I'm 17 years old now You are just a thought You do not exist yet But I want to tell you this now Just in case I never come home again I love you I want you to know I wish I could be there for your birthday Wrap the presents on Christmas Give you the keys to the car When you're on your first date I want to give you the money So you can buy whatever you want But if circumstances arise and conflict that Know my dear son I love you I will be watching over you You are a Guerrero A warrior So bear through the obstacles Stay in school Get good grades Don't make the mistakes I have made Love ever minute of your life It's fragile and still young I want to watch you get married Become the man I never was Son I love you You have made me proud And you haven't even been born yet Nor have I even consummated with your mother But I want you to know I am a part of you I want you know nothing of me Just know I am your father That I love you That I am proud of you Son you have a bright future Just never let anybody say you are worthless Don't fight with your mother She loves you She had to adjust to taking care of you I wish you never have to read this Because if you do Then that means I am deceased and gone But know I love you I wish I could be there to give you the things I was never blessed with I want you to know I have been through a lot And my biggest mistake I will make Is not being there for you When you come out of your mother I want to cry when I see you I want to hold you I want to tell you I love you Look into your eyes And say "You're a better man than I" Son I love you Never stop moving Go forward and turn the world upside down You made me proud Long before you were born Because you are my son And I know you will go farther than me Because you know I love you Son Ti amo Ask your mom what that means You're not alone I'm in your veins I'm every breath you take I'm you because you are me You're my son So son, go far When it feels like a dream That's when it is real Sincerely, Your Father, Robert L. Guerrero P.S. I love you Good night Sweet dreams Tell your mom I love her Tell her good night for me
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
Dear Son,
I'm your father I want you to read this very carefully I want you to understand something I love you I will always be proud of you I'm 17 years old now You are just a thought You do not exist yet But I want to tell you this now Just in case I never come home again I love you I want you to know I wish I could be there for your birthday Wrap the presents on Christmas Give you the keys to the car When you're on your first date I want to give you the money So you can buy whatever you want But if circumstances arise and conflict that Know my dear son I love you I will be watching over you You are a Guerrero A warrior So bear through the obstacles Stay in school Get good grades Don't make the mistakes I have made Love ever minute of your life It's fragile and still young I want to watch you get married Become the man I never was Son I love you You have made me proud And you haven't even been born yet Nor have I even consummated with your mother But I want you to know I am a part of you I want you know nothing of me Just know I am your father That I love you That I am proud of you Son you have a bright future Just never let anybody say you are worthless Don't fight with your mother She loves you She had to adjust to taking care of you I wish you never have to read this Because if you do Then that means I am deceased and gone But know I love you I wish I could be there to give you the things I was never blessed with I want you to know I have been through a lot And my biggest mistake I will make Is not being there for you When you come out of your mother I want to cry when I see you I want to hold you I want to tell you I love you Look into your eyes And say "You're a better man than I" Son I love you Never stop moving Go forward and turn the world upside down You made me proud Long before you were born Because you are my son And I know you will go farther than me Because you know I love you Son Ti amo Ask your mom what that means You're not alone I'm in your veins I'm every breath you take I'm you because you are me You're my son So son, go far When it feels like a dream That's when it is real Sincerely, Your Father, Robert L. Guerrero P.S. I love you Good night Sweet dreams Tell your mom I love her Tell her good night for me
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in our reflections I've attempted to aggrandize my perception of I, cocooned in the softness of her petals bringing about our dawning as if, giving breath to our birth, unfolding upon a new sunrise and we breathe in the delicacy of nature as I caress newborn pouted lips we gaze upon our reflections together; marvelling of God's beauty, instilled within; as we curl into warmth of limbs, embraced in consummated hunger; adorning ourselves with earth's reflective hues as in completed gestational birth... reflecting new beginnings... cocooned in bliss... as I became hers... and she became mine...
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 4:26 AM UTC
Reflective Birth
Whisper of fragrance invade the senses as you wrapped your hands around my neck pulling me down two bodies chiseled on white sheets shimmer in the evening glow mouths part as tongues mingle and breathe becoming one opens the floodgate to delightful promises heralding the ecstasy to come Firm warm ******* paid homage to by loving hands two sentinels standing at attention are slowly encircled and tantalized into sweet surrender fleshy carvings of alabaster wraps around my torso trapped and imprisoned Eros deep in earnest passion shy blushing pink swells with delight nymphs and satyrs frolic behind the bushes The bed heaves and sway alive and joyful with cries of overwhelming emotions as lovers are transported into delicious rapture and the mystery of love is finally consummated
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Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 6:56 PM UTC
Philosophy of the Bed
§ She wields waves of want that paralyze my flight. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't, wouldn't leave. The quest for her touch consumes my all. So I turn inexorably to meet her once again. Her hand covers my eyes the old lovers game, I feel her rapid breath on my neck as her lips graze my skin, teasing as usual. Guess who she sighs as she kisses my ear, moves to my neck nibbles oh so gently, ***** oh so lightly. My love I say as I crumble with my lust and we fall embracing neither willing to let go for even a moment. Fall to the ground hard hurting my back, but as she prys open my grimace with her tongue the pain disappears. There is only pleasure when she is near delicious inviolable embrace, the world shifts its axis as clothes are shredded, skin reddened flushed with blood, anticipation and rough hands. Before our tryst is consummated just as she arrived she is gone. I cry out into the darkness Come back! Maybe later comes her throaty response... If you earn it.
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Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC
Earn it
this ain't love, you've tortured my feeling played on my ever needing lust, consummated my need as you relished in my soulful screaming desire. Release me tormentor let me become free of your wicked deeds and your wicked ways, how is this possible after so long you've come around and i melt, I melt again & again becoming this unrecognizable person... Longing to be in your embrace to feel the torture start over again to become victim to your skillful ways as you once more maimed me and tame me , NEVER agaain is what i once said But lately I can't think right I got this need This greed Feeding and fueling me.. I don't like where I'm going with these thoughts.... Don't like these unwelcoming desires you've stirred with in me once more... Bleeding loves un-concured lustful lovers never again is a myth Cuz I see where I want to be even if I already know your no good for me! This Ain't LOVE! Always Me Ayeshah
0
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 11:36 AM UTC
AIN'T LOVE!!!!