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The words
The words in my head
Forever stuck in my head
I've tried
Oh! How I've tried
Again and again
To have those words spill from my pen
To light the world and inspire a smile
To bring out the dark, torturous and vile
To share all the pieces of myself
With the words that rise and fall
They beckon
They call
They taunt me
And haunt me
Begging to be layed on a page
And I have no choice
No choice but to obey.
Angel Ann Fulford 2/2016 ©
Caitlin Jan 18
To family, friends and strangers-
I’ve bottle everything up inside.
Suppressed my true thoughts and feelings.
Quashed any emotion.

I couldn’t speak the words,
but I sure as **** can write them.
Maybe this will heal me.
Instead of hiding, let me rip myself open for all to see.
Eva Aloezos Aug 2018
I laugh with disgust when a man tries to tell me what ****** things I should enjoy

the masochists of this world,
lying and creating ******* fabrications as to convince me of doing something I vehemently hate

today the dam broke
because he spoke
and the words he uttered were so full of ignorance I contemplated why I associate with such trash

he had the gall to ask me, why I keep dwelling on ****

so I spurned him with a grin, knowing that there are selfless men in this world

and he simply is not one of them
L B Jun 2018
Later at the same address
A storm of words reaches flood stage
A couch is bobbing in the currents
towards its mangled ruin-nexus
of matchsticks in cyclonic flow
among the renegade
trash
hanging
from the limbs like tinsel

Meanwhile
chair heaved through her door
Like the river
I am not above my rage
at this stage
of more than enough....
Cleaver daughter's got my goat
Turns my words on dimes
Lays into me
her score of blame
Each blow to drop me further

presses all my buttons at one time
despite the flashing
Warning! Warning!

“Fine! Fine!”

She blows-out through the afternoon
right past me
in a torrent of curses
A stubborn perfect storm
of words
has taken out parental dam
and blown out toward the Bay of Freedom
to the sorrows of her day

The river may ***** its whip
But its got nothing on her

nothing is left standing
in her way
Stanley Nov 2018
I saw you today,
I tried to say "hello",
but my lips were a dam,
And the words wouldn't flow,
My heart wanted to speak,
But my brain wanted to go,
And so I left,
on its command,
based on a line from a different poem of mine hope you enjoy
The sky fills up with ash as if its an over flowing dam
patiently waiting...
Ready to rupture at any given point
We repaved the cracks and set out the fires
“its to late.”
Walls that were once unbreakable now stand thin
fires burn at our feet as the flood crumbles us from above
The unbreakable walls that held back all the bad are now in shambles
Hg Aug 2018
i’m friends with a chemist
she always got a flask

now she got a heartache
and a faded henna tat

lately i’ve been lonely
and she’s been really sad

so we took to the roof
took the ***** threw it back

her finger has a tan line
but we don’t mention it

i can’t hold down my liquor
or my laughter so i spit

she chugs it like it’s vody
she’s got those russian genes

the only thing i got in blood
are zits and heart disease

the sips leak out her lips
like cracks within a dam

some drip onto her wrists
rubbing the henna off her hand

i made a drunk comment
on her spiral designs

she says they’re meant to bring
good luck and blessings to the bride

and then she paused the night
by tightening her lips

our feet dangled in silence
off the slanted tile’s edge

then suddenly she cracked
her bottled up emotions

poured out what she feels
with swollen tears and words unspoken

**** love dude, she whispered
**** weddings and white dresses

**** me for ever thinking
he was ever something different

she looked down at the ground
as a ***** of thunder rolled

she looked up at the clouds and said
love’s just a chemical

she lifted up the flask
and took a final swig

as rain dropped on the clay
a bolt of lightning hit my head

love’s just a chemical
and that’s all it’s ever been

our bodies are just flasks
and love’s just a reaction
©Hg
Terry O'Leary Nov 2013
PROLOGUE
The Flame, aflicker, licks and flays,
illuming evening’s negligees
With braided curls she swirls and sways,
and flits and floats in light ballets

           APOLOGUE
A Flame, to conquer creeping fog,
flew dancing towards a random log
Her flight perplexed a leery frog
beside a silent somber bog

The Flame, a ripple, all alone
alit on leaves where birds had flown
The aching twigs began to moan
A rising breeze began to groan

The Flame arrayed an ancient oak
with torrid tongues and veils of smoke
A ****** bailed, the dam had broke
The leery frog soon ceased to croak

The Flame uncoiled and lashed midair,
consuming crowns with utmost care
A crazed coyote fled her lair,
left in the lurch bewildered bear

The Flame, unfurled, went wild and grew,
enkindled cats and caribou
Remaining... not a residue,
as reeking vapors bade adieu

The Flame revealed her strength unshackled
Flora, fauna crisped and crackled
Fire Witches clucked and cackled
One more forest stripped, then hackled

           EPILOGUE
The arsonists were well aware
the Flame would travel everywhere
The weirs are gone, the land is bare,
and soon you’ll find a city there
Alex McQuate May 2018
Great tragedy suffered,
Impossible circumstances conquered,
The warrior walks upon the field flanked path.

The wanderer's armor tells a tale,
Battle scarred and partially rent asunder,
A face of stoicism that hides the haggardness underneath,
Peeking out beneath the mask of a hardened soldier.

The clouds clap ahead, preceded by flashes of light brightly illuminating the world,
Accompanied shortly after by the rainfall.

A trickle becomes a downpour,
The battered individual trudging along as the road becomes a bog of mud and slop,
The message firmly planted within their mind.

Coming upon the dark outline of the castle ahead the warrior picks up pace,
Reflecting upon what would happen to those that the Warrior helped.

The pace is now fueled by a different kind of urgency.

The rain is cold upon the faces of those that it falls on,
The torn edges of metal digging in at places,
Some already wounded and tender,
As the final hilltop between them is crested.

The gates are closed,
And this loyal soldier is for the moment shut out,
A fist is raised,
The declaration of allegience given,
An angry detailing of the warriors achievements and adventures shouted,
And a challenge of one's path,
Building in anger and fury as the dam finally breaks and gushes forth,
Threatening to shatter the gate and doors to splinters and twisted metal.

A long ago promised gift to be rewarded,
For all the things endured,
Things that could be considered so cruel,
The storm picks up in force until it's akin to that of a hurricane,
As if brought forth by the warrior's grief and pain finally being released,
For the first and only time.

These things ringing out dispite the storms roaring wind,
Gathering force,
Perhaps in affirmation of the warriors words.

After a pause the gate begins to lift,
It's metal screeching,
The doors groaning as they begin to swing outward, and the embattered soldier is bathed in light,
Taking the weight from the warrior's shoulders,
As the threshold is finally crossed.
Lyn Senz 2 Nov 2013
you punch too much
with hate and lies
my battered soul
I can't disguise

cut off my breath
til I turn blue
I wait for death
to escape you

I look in space
just a shell a can
a dam a hand
unopened

and the mirror
tells me I'm okay
but I barely notice
anyway
there's nothing
left to say

dear mystery
where did you go
and leave me here
so all alone
letting them punch me

oh I know
just let love show
but their punches grow


©2003 Lyn
Napolis Aug 2018
In this
one moment
I see

The old
man with
the cardboard
sign sitting
on the dirt
corner in
front of me,

looks like
a fat black
pool turtle
waiting for
something  
good to
fly by.

perched in
a pose of
power
but nobody
else sees him
that way
I am sure.

he stares
out into open
space like
an predator
looking
for prey.

and it
is not
money he
wants or
respect,

they died
long ago
in his
smile.

he just wants
this dam heat
wave to
calm down,

and his
belley to be
half full
after supper.

and his
kids where ever
they are
to grow up
to be anything
better than
him.

and he
just wants
death to
come and
not wake
him up
when it
does.


it's 4:30 in LA
on a Tuesday
afternoon.

"welcome to
paradise "
There is no more painful love
than unrequited love
A heart that is open
pouring out to another
but an empty space
like a vacuum
with nothing in return

Like giving a gift
‘Tis better to give than receive
And the heart offers freely
all of its wonderful presents

Free of expectations
when truly filled with love
It blindly releases itself to another
With a simple creed
‘I am for you’

Like the wall of a dam
suddenly letting go
A deluge of emotions
Thoughtful, interest, caring, warmth, love
A flowing waterfall
of Niagara proportions

However, without intention

which goes without saying
since the truer the love
the blinder it be

The vacated space
creates a sudden vacuum
A sharp, deep pit left
where once all of itself was housed

For a brief time
the heart is unaware
still glowing in the warmth
from the happiness and joy
of the love it gives

But slowly the glow fades
And the presence of the empty space
becomes more obvious
and apparent

A coldness sets in
An addict looking for a fix
The heart desperately seeks
in return what it has given

Never intending to give with strings
but so it finds itself
now tied to another
with the strongest of bonds

The intense fulfilling feeling
once experienced
Replaced with anguish,
longing, loneliness and pain

The mind and heart begin
an epic civil war
Feeling the torment
and seeing the destruction
the mind invokes all its resources
to break the bonds
the heart has created

But with hope that is
almost sad and pitiful
the heart refuses to let go
So sure of the ties it made
And fighting back with all
of its might to defeat
any attempt
the mind has
to remove the bonds of love

A man at war with himself
will find himself at war with others
And so, the inner conflict
resonates outwardly
displayed aptly with defiance
and destruction

Like a pebble in a pond
each action creates ripples
Slowly at first
but then with exponential speed
a life is destroyed
leaving only a broken
and beaten shell

And after all the destruction
and loss
All of the pain and suffering
The tears and sorrow
At this moment
standing on a pile
of nothing but debris
The mind,
with a sense of arrogance
and certainty,
confronts the heart
and pointedly asks,
“Do you see now?!
Do you see the
error of your ways??
Look what it has cost us!
Do you see the
mistake you’ve made?!”

Without hesitation or waiver
the heart responds
with a steady certainty
that is calm and cool in nature,
“No. Love is a risky venture.
One always, ‘takes a chance at love’.
But I will not admit
fault for trying.
When I love
I love freely and openly
I offer all of myself
without expectations
It’s only when you get involved
and create conflict within
that we have problems
To love is to love
It brings joy and happiness within itself
If it is not returned
then it is not returned
but an open and loving heart
can not feel emptiness and pain for it is filled with love
And there is no greater reward
than finding that love in another
and having another
find that love
in you
Written: March 4, 2018

All rights reserved
Leigh Marie Jan 29
Maybe we both were trying to find the heart of someone else in between the arms of each other
Maybe I was just a place holder for what you were missing
Maybe I was a bandaid on a leaking dam
Maybe it’s all much more simple but
I’ll probably never know
Never know what it was you were looking for
What changed your mind
What you were waiting to have happen
Is my smile too big my heart too open?
Did my confidence scare you away
What was I missing
Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly **** things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched **** things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist ***** chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Berknau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
Thank the maker
there is a cork
in my wine bottle
I have more to drink

Don't spill it
Alcohol abuse
Dinnk every god dam drop!
Down the hatch!

Why does she do this?
I am just being myself
She said she loves me
For being myself

I finally find an outlet
To express my hidden soul
Then she hides hers
The truth exposed
Poetic T Aug 2016
My ink isn't dry,
it just heeds the needing of release,  
   and in this moment it is reserved
                  behind a dam of wowful thinking.

Will I unleash the gates, or stem the tide of
                                                           discontent.
Letting it linger in pools of what I feel deeper
                                       than what others think.

A puddle is an illusion,
for it can linger in minimal space,
                 but beneath it
is a lagoon of sadness
                   that swallowed all I now think.
jcl Dec 2018
like a fool
i go to the well
hoping for water
knowing there is none

once, it was a spring
gushing from the ground
water sweet and pure

like a fool
i built a dam
to hold the water
and it spilled over

like a fool
i dug a hole
built a well
the water slowed
clouded and salted

the water ceased
the well dried
the spring died

like a fool
every morning
i go to the well
wishing, wishing there was water
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
Alone,
Mapless, clueless,

Now a year.5 later,
I am, not yet, more than I imagine.
What I do Is all that must be done,

no less, but only
my part, my talent which I have not,
if the parable is taken literal,
those talents in the tale,
those were money,

not charisma.

Deify, make a god
de-ify, make a truth. Yep. That, de-ifing,
I do that,
think of the oil in an engine,
slippery, slick, smooth fluid
resisting nothing,
rolling with the explosive ****** of life.

I breathe, being metaphorically,
Solomonically wise,
I feared God and kept his commandments,

and thought sure I saw a wink, but
that coulda been a gleam, a reflection taken
by my eye
to my hindbrain, a single quanta
of leavenish light from what the seer saw,

a gleam glistens, I think I see what Mercury,
the message, the medium, flowing twixt yen and yank,
reflects,
flexing,
shaking,
Vibrant un abrading wave bearing grains
of matter smattering to the shore,
immaterial to the wave,
where the power's
drawn, pulled,
not pushed,
listing not *******,

air-ish heirily, heir of the wind, I go...

winds list whither they will, always
the path of least resistance,
no lie.
Any thing that refuses to fall,
whether it bends or not,
it stands,
under the push of the pull,
the dam
destructive
imbalance of heat, twixt air and sea and land,
the circuits of the wind, ventilator of life,
****** into hated vacuums
over physics forced channels,
down canyons
dammed by mountain titans eruptioned,
fractures in the firmament, formed
back in Peleg's day,
as the turmoil settled,
aftershocks, still, winding
currents formed chaotic energy cells,
swirls to hold
lower pressure pushed by high,
the life force of a planet, broken and frozen
and fried crisp,
if it weren't for air.
And water.

It works,
the biosphere,
but surely, as my friend Ben said,
"we live on the wreck of a world."

Life adapts to living, medium message.

Desert dry silicon
dust rides winds pushing its owned way
into places where...

There's the rub.
That's my part, at the moment,
Here, right here,
is how I know.

This moment is real. You dear reader
make it so.

Imagining there is no ****,
that's personal,
but on earth, as in heaven,
as a man thinks...
you know, I think that part never broke.

Don't lie, don't fret. Wait and see.
or watch and see, if you are the proactive type,
either way, don't lie about the seen and done.
And don't believe lies, about things you've seen and done.
Listening to Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, and comparing my tracks. And I voted, that was hard to believe it could make a difference, but it did. We the people do have power, to each his own.
Jenay Jarvis Aug 2018
It is quiet, finally.
The spiders they tell me,
That dreams are funny things-
Heavy like stones. Disappearing.

At night, it rains.
Water is on the inside,
It fills me.

It permeates the skin,
Past leveed lungs,
My mouth-a ****** dam.

The tips are bursting.
It all overpours.
Like stars thick with oil,
Like visions in a well.

Immersed- you can float here.
It's like a nameless place.
It's like falling into rivers.
Her thoughts and I,
we stay awake
waiting for someone,
hoping for somethings
for the heart in pain
needs no tending
just a pinch of the divine
and that silver lining.

I think of the moments
we gently stole
from the curious eyes
of tired souls
our driving the distance
to escape our own
and finding the universe
in our palms, unfold.

There in the coffee shop
she stares at me
from the helpless tea bag
in scalding water.
In the bottle she would get
to quench her thirst
I find her asking if
my need's greater than hers.

The empty seat of car,
in front
is taken in her absence
by her memories warm
The gear shaft
without our fingers twined
is stripped bare
of our ***** thoughts

The rains when they come,
they flood my heart
for a stormy noon
is still parked within
when the highway was lost
behind a sheet of rain
and in lights all turned on,
our tongues were mating.

Her breath is all over
this gluttony of a glass
half filled with wine,
half consumed by need
Now, the dam opens,
blood rising to the lips
flooding me with her thoughts
she can never read...
Where do you find love?
In the absence of your love...
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
The fire knows nothing but burning,
we know breathing that way, naturally done for
our own sake.
We old still know sake and grant mean true immaterial things.
Sake and granted we take to mean

my good, your good, good sake grant me take me con

mentis sans carne

by golly.

Dada-esque wire spoke far writing ease
e everything e-literate e-mail

---
the boinin' in d'boozum, dat be da ting, da ting con sum in all ya'lifes.
be knowin' dat, be knowin' a-dam lie.
Jah know y'know, don' be sayin' no y'don'

Be happy. Jah know haps be hap'nin' allatime. *** sum, take wha's granted,
take all fo' free.

You got nothin' t'boin, nothin' to oin, be a bird brain seein' stars fo'

no. birds be sleepin' when stars be seen so birds consider nothin', sidereally.

Hmmm. Quit?
Walk away, say, I got nought to say I ought t' say.
No way.

Temporary tempt-test-u-us sitchee-ations,
suffer it so. It don' hurt t'say no f'now so

How'd that that shiny critter know my game? How'd it know,

I think
thisaway and it is gone, forever. (which has begun, btw)

-----

The biosphere is regaining consciousness, Capitan.
Shall we continue burning?


What's the bullocks count?
How did those Dada ideas survive this long? Or are they gone, such non-sane suggestions, fountains of living waters flushed to oblivion?
James M Vines Sep 2018
I stomp my bare feet upon the  shards of a mirror that was broken a few moments ago. I run the burning cold pieces through my skin as they mix with the warm blood oozing from my wounds. I dance as pain resonates through each nerve. I seek a truth that I cannot find in sanity. I looked at that dam mirror a thousand times and not once did I like what I saw. So I shattered it with my fist and released my power. I now stand in a Crimson and Silver pool as light shimmers beneath my feet like flecks of Diamonds. I realize that I am hurting but my soul does not care. While my body screams for reason, my spirit is elated to feel freedom, even if pain is the only way that it can obtain it.
Andrew Sep 2017
I was a flailing phoenix
Trapped underneath a waterfall
Unable to rise from the ashes
While being continuously extinguished
Until you constructed a dam
With the flotsam from my heart
I opened my wings and emitted light
Fearing waterfalls I took my fire flight
I was elated to have migrated
Where the weather was tropical
And the conditions seemed optimal
But your aggravating absence
Endeared an enigmatic essence
A vengeful apparition
That conjured rain
I desperately craved your protection from the elements
Until I noticed the precipitation was my infatuation
For you and the things you do
The things you build
Make rivers stay still
And the things you say
Make me regret being ***
Because you're a ******
You live in your exclusive dam
Your teeth are like cleavers
Gnawing on sacrificial lamb
FinnleyGabby Nov 2018
These words, like blood, flow through my veins. Burning through my skin as they try to escape my body. They need to be heard. Need to be seen. I can't keep them inside much longer. I need to get them out. They keep me awake at night, taunting me. Ideas flow through my head like a rushing river, my lips the dam. As the seasons go cold, the skin on my lips *****, giving space for these words to flow. They flow through the air with the harsh winter wind, bringing tears to my eyes as they whip around me. Tangling my hair into knots. Despite this, a sense of warmth envelopes me.
Knowing these words are free now. No longer haunting my dreams. Pounding in my head. Screaming to be set free.
zebra Mar 2018
my step mom comes over to my office intermittently
turns on the computer and opens the emails
in the dark of night
making all cheery bright and lighted for my mourning arrival

so kind of her
making sure things are ready to go
she always the epitome of efficiency

did i mention
she's been dead now for over 20 years

did i mention we are lovers
sadly never in the flesh
always an unspoken ache during the living years
when we where near
a relentless unrequited love still burning
like fire licks and burning lips
trussed thighs spread wide
twisting swarms of wet tongues lapping
to live in each others bellies
and lungs
her feet in my mouth
  
so now free from others
because  
the dead do what they dam well please
and on the slippery side of life
so do i

its about time!

did i mention her soft kisses
her gorgeous *******
and soft round belly

didn't mean to get carried away again
or
the scent of her **** that veiled wet jewel
as she walked passed me
demon smiling innocence
sending me into a swoon
her beautiful pink angular toes

am i repeating myself

how sad i am that i never got on my knees
to brush my lips against her
to see her widen her haunches
inviting me with glaring madness
out the sides of her eyes
  to work my way up
to her lurid dark fruit
a drooling buttery split

your dead mom
but your here now
turning on the computer
and watching **** with me
dressed up for a hot blood
star spangled glitter ****
staring into me like only the dead can
taking positions the living could never imagine
oh my pretzel girl

we kiss reckless raw *****
all furious *** toys smushing raw mouths
and eat each other like hot apple bend over

yes mom so dark the things we do
that the living dare not ever think

yes my beloved
even die for each other sweetly
over and over again
always smiling to the end
dead and dead
in love in bed

that's how the breathless ****
all tender kisses
till **** breaks lose
till bloods pulse eschews
till all is lucid comatose ****
we enter heaven
stooping to **** for pleasures sake
letting go to
******'s purge
the sacred sin of the flesh
no taboos

and you once again turn hollow empty
a transparency
falling through my embrace like dust

will you come back tomorrow
turn on the computer
or better yet
maybe visit in a night dream of tangled caresses
or
a day haunt
of licking glistening haunches
a dancing leg show
in a smooth white pearl bath tub
with wild ***** mouth
brooding *******
and feral tongued kisses
red as blood?

sometimes love
never dies.
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