"diphthong" poems
aɪ love the slipping vaʊwels
That seɪ yʊər neɪme
In gliding təʊnes that form my lips to a kiss.
The səʊnd of it brings comforting warmth.
The world disappɪəring
In the seɪfe enfolding of yʊər arms,
Naʊ peɪn and tɪərs of sadness
Are companions to the memory of yʊər passing
Once peəred and jɔɪned
United as one,
aɪ thought,
Forever.
This child’s nəʊtion was innocent of aweəreness
That love’s lexicon is full of such partings
Naʊ aləʊne aɪ strive to grasp an ember of a truth profaʊnd
That while a part of me will alweɪs
Call for you in whispers
And long for yʊər embreɪce
aɪ’ll preveɪl , surviving separation’s sting.
A tribute
Still standing,
Praʊd
And saʊnd.
Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 11:02 PM UTC
palace of lights caved
blooms through the body
like reality pitted against a comic book
not knowing where life came from
not knowing how it will end
food tubes or road ****
is creation substance-less?
24 carat nonsense,
or pure wisdom?
perhaps bad therapy
for lab animals
and store front dummies
monkeys shudder at needles
unless candied with a heroine syringe
chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria
pleasure before despair
and than a sea of pain
and a ****
impaling her
the lushly contoured female
a frictionless exchange of power
for ******* ecstatic death
as her eyes bob and flutter
like cascading echo's
my birth tarot card
**** of swords
her favorite when I push through her
like blood bubble gum
b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m
a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit
guttural diphthong
like a vipers castanets
uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb
her **** a zoo
c u n t z o o
i am peanuts worms and hay
her face a mask to hide behind
breath play
sibilant ****
specter or nightmares
shadows and villains aphrodiac
gagged and drugged
hot ***** bound
a big eyed ****
s l u t l o v e
*** cannibals turn me on
her ****** a goddess
a Russian roulette
for shtttty kisses
sploosh
she shot me
cuckoo spit
k o cuck k o k o o
twizzles willie milk
in a drowning
moss draped moon orifice
under a shattered zodiac
wrapped in tentacles of night
she turns me on
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
too often you **** me with your
monosyllabic question: your lips
form it, so gradually, and hence,
inquisitively, that i, i would not
miss that diphthong you emphasised,
that question of why - yet too often
i find myself unable to proceed
beyond because...
Mar 18, 2012
Mar 18, 2012 at 4:24 AM UTC
We met over 40 years ago. Floating buttocky halves
spooned into pastel fruit bowls, even drowned in
Del Monte syrup, love at first taste. Your flesh
a luminous hue, hovering on the border of cream
and August skies; your flavor pure as dreamed pleasure
grazing my waking tongue, a melting sweetness
streaming down my throat; your name, a single syllable
promising delight: pear, barely sound, mere parting of lips,
and hint of breath, apple-green p, the sweetest
diphthong ea, all the air in the world, closed in rounded rr‘d
finality. A perfect word, reducing your rumpled, pinnacled
self, to one gorgeous, Old English syllable: per.
Right now, six of you sit ripening on my windowsill.
A sky-blue towel shields bottoms against further bruising
from the wood even at birth you instinctively flee, hanging
off trees in swelling green-gold tears, yearning for earth,
or growing to maturity in bottled, olive-green light, your dying
breath suffusing aging liqueurs like the oldest I ever drank,
the summer I was 19, a century-old brandy served in snifters
the likes of which this working-class boy had never seen.
I tilted the giant crystal bowl; the fragrant liquid elongated
in mimicry of its remembered self and seeped into my mouth: a pear’s
ghost enveloped in flame lay down to rest on my tongue. We both
were saved, at least for that night. Pear. Look of women I love
but don’t lust after, I want to conjugate you: I pear, you pear,
we pear. Like raspberries, Mozart and love, for me, sufficient proof
of God’s existence. I trust you. Lead me by the tongue to heaven.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
You cut a dashing figure
between em and en and
oh, by the way
Your abbreviated smile
has me wondering what
it stands for
as I place my finger on
your ellipsis … you lead me on,
there is no doubt
I feel left out
But as we track and kern
our forms, ascending,
make ligatures to avoid
an overlap of strokes
a diphthong doth emerge
o’er our line o’ type
and what was once
paragraphed into separateness,
our thoughts juxtaposed
begins to merge
(bind in parentheses)
you’n’me make syncope
and, once the story forms,
the digraphs make shapes
with our mouths.
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 4:53 PM UTC
this dawn has no sun... it has an eye.
it is nothing but dreams and a risen Christ.
the long beyond behind me, is the avalanche... the tremors
in a golden misery. a blunder on glass stilts.
this dawn has to step outside -
to have a mirror. it has to bake the clay
that made a man.... into
an iron wisp.
it has to occur to God
to have your entropy be a deep kiss.
to obliterate the schedule of planned events
and substitute the void for the real fear.
is has to occur to Us
to have no reality other than this.
to celebrate the anvil of cartoon antics
and most refuse the void
with the mind clear.
' bout a train don't come.... been always here....
sinking into the ravines of your cabbages
and sulking in the mulch
of some soiling ambrosia.
a cure for Krackens in your refractory-
stammering the diphthong
of an adjacent
howl.
but not quite an amethyst
at rush hour
but a diamond in
the hush.
a black diamond
within us.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
*I've waited a long time for this
craved you with all of my five senses
conjured you up in a dream,
in my minds eye
I see how this will play out,
yet holding on to hope
that you'll sooth my achy heart
&
fill my body,
All I can do is
hold in my anticipation as
You're ********** me,
I love foreplay
but not right now
&
I love that you've left the lights on......
I'm watching you as you're gazing at me
with that boyish devilish look
BABY
it's going to be magical
Oh my
you've just entered me
so slow,
deeply penetrating
the very essence
of my tight honey ***
Love how you've just
put your hand on
my delicate throbbing bud
stroking it
as you ****** in & out
of my velveteen flower
my legs spread wider on their own
as each
****** produces a diphthong sound
I can hear it
and
it's like a rising acoustic sound
as our bodies collide together-
reverberating off these walls.
Your lustful assault
has me
gripping the sheets.
I have to cry out!
Oh my God................
I can't take it!!!
Oooo
You're so deep,
swelling and as you do so
my sugar walls tighten up
I can feel myself getting wetter
can fee it,
the look on ya face say you do....
You're massive member is
driving in me
like a drill
thrilling all five of my sense,
Baby the smell of us,
is in the air
The feel of us meshed together
tantalizing every part of my skin
Your my sinful addiction Mr. D...
Moaning out your name over
and over my voice is almost hoarse
can you feel it like I do,
is it good to you like its good to me
my unyielding tormentor?
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh
You feel so good
&
I believe I'm about to erupt*......
WAIT,
Why'd you stop
&
PULL OUT!?
By:
~KnowOneKnowsMe~
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
How can I tell you
that what I had is gone?
if all these consonants and vowels
put flesh on the bones of my thought
then how do I express less
in the substance of syllables?
Surely there can be no way but silence
to say what you are now
No noise nor rhyme
no vowel nor diphthong,
no metre at last
no making of sense
no prose, no poem,
not the heresy of song
not an imperfect past
no future, tense
I cannot rephrase you
to what you are not
I can only reckon,
only wonder,
that what I had is gone.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC