"dalliances" poems
Touch me my soul make the words roll over my skin
Only if you know how to write to me my angel my kin
I am not waiting for a mask not either a disguise
Open your veins to me
Let me read in the red waters on my lips
Let me read the words, free me of the words
in any possible way
may the rain down my eyelids
may they kiss my legs
Make me laugh like a springtime morning
A soft laughter that tears up the skies
Those who gives shivers and marvels
send a shiver to my spine make my head spin
feed on my sapiophile soul
more never stop or only to make me miss you
only to make me deliciously pine for them ever more
I am tired by the dalliances I want the four season muse
You are so right I am the demure sylph
Inured by the tar black clouds and the tempests
so delicate with those thin dragonfly lyrics
It's all made of your sighs and your caresses
One day perhaps you'll have your own epiphany
You will call me Marie and all of my other names
You'll use your precious eloquence to tell me
How we were meant to be
Resonate like a familiar sound snowing in my mind
Purifying the emotional landscape
NOW is the time even if there's no hurry
Haven't we lost enough time to be without one another
Every of my names no matter my dress
They will all adore you as bitter as sweet
I'll be on your ego like a caress
I will read you like a sassy poem
Like an impatient flame
You'll be the one who dares to be frail
You'll dive in my treasure and get out of the bitter sea
Together like a team united for the beauty of the worse(...)
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Ingénue, Ingénue
mellifluous intonation;
within my ear
intangible embrocation!
Emollient to my inure
lithe and lilt affections-
A panacea, a talisman
fetching provocation.
Ingénue, Ingénue
Why must you fall
into such fugacious
dalliances?
Becoming and comely
are you
The cynosure of men
dissembling by demure
Ingénue, Ingénue
how easily I imbue
sempiternal scintilla
into naive little you
Lo, during my brooding-
arrive in halcyon gambol,
Dulcet or Saccharine
Is it me or you?
Ingénue, oh Ingénue
an epiphany, so true
a furtive labyrinthine
past the offing of you
None so opulent
cast more than penumbra.
T'would simply be Pyrrhic
to go on, continue.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
We were a beleaguered bard born,
a chief in chatoyant charms charged with
the principle petrichor of passionate paramours;
to drive the dainty dalliances
of incipient ingénues immured in
glamourous gossamer gowns;
lilting, lead lissome lads 'long labyrinthine love;
mischeiviously make mellifluous mondegreens;
sing of such serendipity: surreptitiously susurrous sessions
scintillas of Spring's sempiternal sentiments!
But fetching fugues fade fast, felicity's fated to fly. For
penumbral poets, it portends a pyrrhic pay.
We wander woebegone, waiting wistfully.
Lovers leave lyricists to languish in lonely lassitude.
The halcyon heyday has harbingered
inbroglio in the inured inventor of infatuation.
Why? With what wherewithal?
Often our offerings off us, opposite of, obviously, obtaining, or,
lucidly: lyrical lacers of Love likewise lack its livening lagniappe.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
They're such shiny chemicals:
Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Phenylethylamine.
Life shimmers,
and each day is painted with purpose
When dosed with such potency.
I would like to believe that love,
The long-lasting kind,
The one you're supposed to want,
The one that settles you,
Where you grow old and spend Wednesday evenings answering emails and rewatching some old baking show in ***** sweats
Is enough to keep life interesting.
But chemistry doesn't always work that way.
My path might dictate some other measure of wholeness,
And more than one type of love,
And more than a couched lookalike storybook ending.
My path may require
Risk, Adventure, Longing,
Questioning, Exploration, Pain,
Brilliant platonic wildfires,
Intellectual dalliances,
And unrequited amorosity.
In short, my path may require some trailblazing.
But this precious neural spark
In my body
That keeps me in love with love
Is mine to keep
For as long as it continues to shine.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 5:49 AM UTC
*** ( )))
/( )\
/\
( bent outta shape )
••
REAL QUESTION
--
would having *** with a SHEEPLE
make you guilty
of the sin of
********** ?
/: /
If so
Since most of us don't stand up
against
TYRANNICAL , CHILD KILLING AMERIKKKA
We are SHEEPLE !
and if having *** with
SHEEPLE
Is
***********
is it any wonder that our
Dalliances
Aren't blessed by god ?
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Conceit in lines around her face
Which mask an underlying pain
Of envy coined in terms of rage
Behind sweet smiling lips, ordained.
Within those eyes of brittle blue
The contradictions deep portrayed
In portraiture of crowning wealth
Beneath a writhing hate, contained.
Oh how the opulence displayed
The charm dispensed, the pomp, the fuss
Apparent ‘neath the thin veneer
Sincerity’s black ***** mistrust.
Hid beneath the thin veneer
The entrails churn in anger’s spleen
And woe betide the servant found
To whisper subterfuge, unseen.
On the surface calm prevails
Appearances must be preserved
Tea and sandwiches at noon
Shall on the terrace porch be served.
Deep beneath the knives are drawn
Blood must flow before this night
She shall sever dalliances….
Non shall witness sound nor sight.
Marshalg
28 June 2014
Sandringham.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
My mind is a storm.
Constantly swirling;
Moving.
It's loud and I cannot escape it.
Oh! This assemblage of demons that
Plague me!
''Leave me'' I scream. I yell.
They laugh.
Why do I bother?
They will never leave.
In the eye of the storm,
I have my dalliances with happiness;
But its never long enough.
One day, I will be free.
This is temporary, a mere blip in this life.
My life.
t.o.b
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
After an uncertain amount of time
He woke. It was bitter realizing
He had died. He knew he had not
Been a particularly good man nor
Bad. He could not appeal his fate
To a higher power but still was it
His fate to be alive imprisoned in a
Coffin?. For who could tell how
Long? -it just did not seem right
Indeed it was unacceptable to
Him personally -to confront it
Head on was insupportable
His mind began to wander
Hither and wither only to
Return to the gravity of
His situation after many short
Dalliances with relatively
Pleasanter thoughts--bit
By bit like a Pavlovian dog
He returned less and less
At some point in his day
Dreaming he drifted off
To sleep thence to a dream
In it He was alive in a far
Land; a stranger it was not
Without its fascination but
He keenly felt weighty
Sense of being alone and
Wondered at the wisdom
Of venturing further
He then came to upon
A cross roads where the
Paths diverged in a wood
Suddenly He remembered
He had died and if he woke
That is where he had left
It was that or choose to go
On living in the dream.
He chose the less traveled
Path; and that has made
All the difference; and the
Rest is history as they say.
Anyway it was long time
ago but I should say that
John after a long journey
Did find his way back to his old
Home and into the arms
Of his Beloved sweetheart
It was just another instance
Of the strange occurrences
At Owl Creek Bridge But
I do not suppose you remember
It was such a long time ago
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
The shields and the mellow
Borders passing the time
In our tantalizing memories
Of running and falling apart.
In the riots off the pavements
And the times I passed out
Floating atop of perfection
In the decisive turns of token
Relationships and the despair in your exhausted exhales.
I toss and turn in inflicted bliss
As I slowly decipher the exquisite dalliances all around us.
I sit uncomfortably whilst I twitch in the famished dissonance.
In the pauses and the gaps. In the strides and the tirades. In the flights and the clauses.
I sit back in the deja vu of the night.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 12:34 PM UTC
You never have to be a flower again
or play those kettle drums, Sheba
bygone from sleeves, dalliances worn.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
Love the present
This fleeting second
Indulge in the beauty
Of the flavor
The vision
Life's beautiful sounds
The fragrances
And focus on the dalliances of love
For all the sweetness of the moment
Capture the full rapture
Of the awakened senses
Freeze the panorama
That you may remember
In full sound and color
It can not pass this way again
Copyright Louis Brown
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 10:35 AM UTC
If my words to you aren't special
And my love is not enough
My tears they fall like snowflakes
In case you did not know
Then let the snowfall settle
Upon the winters bluff
As winds so cold surround me
like the beats inside my chest
You'll find the one thing missing
The closeness we could possess
As the seasons changes quickly
Your fickle heart moved on swiftly
Your other dalliances kept hidden
In secrets not buried
A snowflakes uniqueness melts away
In the winter valley of love
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
If we go on loving through the night and daylight breaks without a sound
could it be that we may have found
the common ground
the meeting place
Do we face the fact that the future is as yet an unwritten tract waiting for the pen to show
just where and how the words of love must go?
It is
of this I'm sure as sure as any man can be with you along as only you,the woman can be
and if we write exotically,erotically as our pens meet upon the pages of our street
who cares
who dares to interpose and who knows the meetings in the minds of meetings behind the curtains,blinds
or dalliances where we dance out the scribbles of romance that shout out within the ink that spills
and thrills
yes, thrills galore
behind the closing of the bedroom door
and when day begins its daily ritual
we'll turn in time and thrill some more.
If it is so
and tomorrow is but another show or spectacle put on the stage
and the writing on the page we make begins to fade
let us lay the new foundation and
forge the new relationship
let slip those tears of yesterday and they will also fade away
Is today the day
Is it time?
okay
let's begin at the beginning and somewhere in between the losing and the winning
when, we both grinning wipe the sweat away
take a break and you say
'that was nice let's do it twice'
and I shake my head somewhere between alive and dead and hold on to the song that plays,
Today's the day.
I wouldn't have it any other way
would you?
Then we must alight before the day breaks into night and with candles lit will sit
upon the bathroom floor
needing to wash but wanting more
desire
desire
fire away
the day was today and today was the day and the night has nowhere to run.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
Ashes 2 Ashes
such an inane phrase.
combustion is an irreversible process,
and you can't burn ashes for a
second time like you did to me.
you razed me like I was
aught but another Carthage in the
Punic Wars of your myriad
romances and affairs and dalliances and
flings;
why can't I stop wondering
which I was??
dust to dust
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
I dream about the touch of your *******
swollen against my hardened-chest,
your arms gentle around my shoulders,
such pretty-tips on fire, smoldering.
I lift you up for your preciousness,
lowering you to engulf my flame,
you my quench my thirst
with such tenderness,
we move in wavy-motions.
Whispering dalliances in my ear,
you intice me to seed you
and I oblige your requests,
as you shake with me
in mutual adoration,
you against my chest,
me inside your heart,
bleeding love.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
tender was as soft as any fluffy cloud ever
hovered over
any straw strewn field
soft as bunny fluff or
a kitten's purr
green Illuminata on a screen
of Daisies dalliances with efflorescent
shields of sunglows radiance
illuminating the hidden parts
the mind's shadows
a part
in a play one act
a display of life's reality
sunken a bucket far down
into the deepest well ever
returned full
of glittering
clear
stark
pure
beautiful
clearness
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
Memory in motion,
look back on your life as if it's a chain store promotion and the coffin on offer is yours.
Buy done and dusted before you are busted and broke,
there are mirrors and you are the smoke.
So we drift and we lift our eyes only to see that the offer on offer is not the offer for me.
I am worn out which is borne out by the sell before date,
you will have to excuse me
I may be a bit late, but don't start the ball rolling without me.
I am ocean, self promotion, premonition and offer the offer of more motion to come so don't write me out of the script.
Memory,
I can see is but the tripping out of switches and we are our own electrical contractors.
And yet I still have reservations about remembered dalliances and half moon destinations that I never reached.
It'll be sorted one day one way or another
and so why should it bother me so?
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
sees the light i see him
hymnal youth and choir boys
daily dalliances with unknown creatures and masses
deviations from the mainstream. lights a fire in me.
liberation- he is.
a passing *******
BOOM BOOM BOOM ———— PULSE
moments captured in a tenderlustful touch
creeping with and into my ****
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
As the sun comes up,
I realize I’ve been wasting away night after night
And I’ve done it all with a nonchalant air about me and a smirk plastered onto my **** face.
I’ve been wasting the gift that is my life.
I’ve had every opportune moment to put an end to my dilly-dalliances
And yet I have ignored each of these many signs in favor of bringing about my own downfall. Might as well bring out the corks because I’ve practically celebrated–whooped and cheered!–as I’ve run the course of life through each tattered obstacle
Bumping and falling like a drunk performance artist trying to make a buck at the county fair.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC
Choose your first spark;
Never deviate into dalliances;
You may lust for a friend,
But remember, you never need them
You reacted in a paroxysmal frenzy of love;
You thought you knew what it meant;
So you declared your hollow infatuation
Based on nothing,
but being a midnight star of solicitation,
But like all stars
There are more like you.
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 8:06 PM UTC
i dream of bookmarks
on days better forgotten
ink spilling over
numbness of squalor
these pages, revolving doors
truth within fiction
on sturdy armrests
hearts leaping from cliffhangers
fillers overhead
like sipping of teas
action belying motive
laughs the red herring
over second guessing
of heroes turning human
let presumptions fly
questions, swarming in
faster than the credits roll
home in a stupor
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 3:04 AM UTC
With renewed vigor
A slip of the hip
The grip of the finger
I chuckle
I've gotten myself into a pickle, it seems.
For the first time in forever
I'm looking forward to basking in the sun
In the brilliance of something greater than all my dalliances
I'm feeling it now
Actual sunlight.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 12:34 AM UTC