"elations" poems
**Here I lie wide awake,
thoughts pouring through my mind.
How sweet the touch your body,
when craving after mine.**
*Playful eyes and dancing toes,
wrestling to shed our clothes.
You bite my neck and I taste yours,
we slowly kiss, our tongues explore.*
**I toss and turn, try to ignore,
these visions now vibrate my core,
the chance I'd take if you were near,
to breathe you in as though you're here.**
*Lips running down your heartfelt chest,
caressing them along your breast,
excitfull moans begin to flow,
the further down I go below.*
*With grace I trace, my love expands,
this sanctioned sin, no reprimands.
You feel me now, passions run deep,
quietly your sounds they speak,
and as they do,
I follow through,
through the depths of reaching you.*
*As inner thighs,
quiver and quake,
salty sweet your taste I take,
your fingers running through my hair,
you pace my face,
and steady,
there!
You groan in ecstasy,
your love receives the best of me.
I slowly give my all to you,
with rhythm we begin to move,
clasping our hands, you sway your hips,
you raise them up, as we eclipse.*
**It echos through these deep elations,
driving in intense sensations.**
*Entangled we begin to dance,
form beads of tropical romance.
You rain on me, and I on you,
our bodies moist like sultry dew.*
**Tell me now, where have I gone,
this feels like some celestial bond.
I'm but alone, in my own bed,
yet here you are inside my head.**
*Joining rapid beating hearts,
pulsating through our tender parts.
Increasingly your warm breath's felt,
together we begin to melt...*
**I must expel this lustrous notion,
to sinfully vow my devotion.
How can it be, to have not met,
yet yarn for you, without regret.**
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
*Electric Dreams Of My Radioactive Ex,
Bio-Digital Jazz Tap Dancing Us Into ***
Lucid Infatuations Infused In Whiskey,
Cupid Fairytales Conceiving Frisky,
A Perpetual Beauty Smoldered In Ecstatic Bliss,
Sublime Sins Between Her Rosy Lips With Velvet Kiss,
Romantic Burns Galvanized In Her ****** Desires,
Seductive Stardust Enchanting My Feisty Fires,
Encoded Serenity In Her Decoded Virginity,
Recoding Obscenities Of Her Fragrant Sexuality,
Hazel Echoes Raining Intimate Bouquets,
Rekindling, Her Drug That Fondles In Her Moaning Glaze,
Enraptured Catalysts Animating In Her Cuddles,
Euphoric Elations Climaxing Into Her Satin Snuggles.
- 02:17AM -*
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Never forget
there is poetry in dirt
in greens, in beets,
especially in rutabagas.
Three-dollar-a-bag spinach,
you are a symphony of compost
with which an old man’s teeth are smitten;
Rosemary sprig, beneath all your flavor
you are the staff-lines of a madrigal written
in loving anticipation of the mason jars, weighed down with water
where you will grow and swell and bud and spread out strong purple flowers which elate
that you are part of a song
which sings every year
a little louder.
My beautiful, daredevil vegetables,
This coming September, I will miss you dearly.
I will be days of travel away from your world of roots, of mist,
of six-in-the-morning-before-classes tonic of rain
which saturates my skin so good I’m surprised when I shake the dirt from the leeks
all over my bare feet, that you don’t crop up green & white from between my toes,
that my arms don’t grow heavy with peppers
after they cake with jalapeno & bell seeds from all the half-rotten miracles
to whom I have given baptism in shallow plastic tubs of water
floating like elations of fire
in the grayness of the morning.
Know how to tell if a pepper’s rotten? Wash it & shake it
& if you can hear the water swishing inside,
if you can make a maraca of its innards,
then give it back to the dirt.
This is the wisdom of peppers:
when you grow soft
when you have been chosen
& plucked,
& washed
& thoroughly loved
& shaken,
when you have called out like fire
beside your brothers in a basin,
lay down in the compost
the kindly compost,
& listen, just listen,
(there will be nothing left to do
but listen)
to the poetry of dirt.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
There was a time
when music meant
more than the
heartbeat in my chest
Through its veins
flowed notes of great inspiration
The heart raced to the rhythms , escalating elations
The spirit soared in explosions of glory and verbal fireworks awed
The vibrations tingled the
chill of skin
Who would have believed it could feel so great within
That was this , that was then
Oct 28, 2022
Oct 28, 2022 at 3:07 PM UTC
Hallucinations in life"s desert accompanied with my unquenchable thirst
Lacerations fade to scars to prove luck"s point that it wasn"t near the worst
Temptations conspire with times inevitable push as we all learn we"re cursed
Plantations wear us down as we are all slaves until our souls have traversed
Fascinations are shared before we hitch a ride on the grim reaper"s dark hurst
Elations are defiled like a child"s smile transformed after the last bubble"s burst
Cremations are compiled as ashes drift away off cliffs and are forever dispersed
Vibrations guide us through the universe so please join me as we dive head first
Take my hand my friend and lets go be free
No need to worry about having any eyes to see
trust me as our souls dance in the wandering sea
And accompany me through this glorious eternity
We are Universally linked paralleled to every degree
Soul searching for the destination that they call journey
Brave souls are blessed with this human shell as a test
A life materially possessed leads to a lonely empty nest
So don't waste time depressed on this short epic quest
You"ll forget all the rest when our souls have coalesced
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 6:16 PM UTC
I spent today reeling you in.
threads of your silk love
fluttered through the air
like broken, escaped spider webs
how can you be at once everywhere and nowhere?
on an old voyage moment
you rebuked me:
“You’re looking with the wrong eyes,
my dear”
But my eyes don’t dart differently.
I sit with the innumerable knots of your
miscellaneous elations.
I sift for the ends to start
unraveling, adapting
but maybe you are just one continuous
Idea
as lo
ng as we’
re
tan
gled,
Bind
the fibers of my physical being
catch
the flapping petals
falling from my
composed mannerisms
stitch
your whimsy
into each atom
of my salient figure-
fuse your feathered fabric
into my most raw elements.
My life is a matted disarray
of your truest notions-
A yarn Mount choreographed from
the diminutive strands
of your blinking captured freedom
I spent today reeling you in-
So- entwine me, Love,
net me forever, Sweet,
my dearest jumble to disentangle
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
Your determination puts me in anticipation as I'm patiently waiting for you to surpass my expectations.
Your aspiration gives me elations that keep me covered in perspiration from the constant titillation of good vibrations from you mental exhalations.
I swear my admiration can't fit in an equation to find the summation of my adoration plus your negation to be an imitation, hot **** your dedication is amazing.
I'm contemplating if you can be to me what the mighty sphinx was to the king Ramses.
If I'm out of line, please don't push back in, I'm going out of my mind like hair that needs relaxing.
Keep me on my toes and I hope that this feeling grows cause only God knows the ropes to keep us ever close.
Just don't say no when I go slow in my one woman show, to have your heart glow, go to and fro like my prose on the ocean flow.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
You are the clouds
That come crossing the
Cool reflected solar rays
Just to kiss cold cratered moon
I watch
Your vaporous outlines
Loose their edges
I soften just like them
With the heart of hope
A Carousel of cloud stallions
Race away faster
Than the impressions of
Love's drug induced elations
I reach out into the darkness
But your ghostly white night light
Slips away like cirrus thoughts
Tonight you are solid in someone else’s arms
But to me you are my
Cloud covered twilight daydream
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
He stands on the stage with muscles tensed and mind relaxed. His ability to perceive anything at once is employed. And there are twins in the hall, a frog in the toilet, and nowhere (out of sight) is the aphrodisiac named Lenny. A common misconception is the conception of any order at all, and everything you want to exist now, or ever existed, a priori: this is the meat-muscle, the excreting weener, of Cain.
"Nowhere, man," states the deaf mute with essence, "must have a musk, a muse." An Algonquin replied, "Stay away from that horrifying ontology."
The man on the stage is at the same time becoming less inquisitive, more unconcerned and fallow, and now he watches their amusement from off-stage!
Now, those poor, poor people on the balcony--watching him, recording every minute--they do not cow him, for he watches them as an aside only, for the figure on the stage rises, mimicking an immense marble statue. His spine stretches, as the calls of his own voice call out, in his own voice emit, for the figure on the stage, especially when he calls, little or no recognition. The only voice, obviously, is this unrecognizable, willful voice that once belonged to him. Although it cannot be, it can. Although it is not possible (that it is not), it is. His personal translation beckons concern.
With all his initial reactions lost, no longer won, no longer controlled, he is, by those very two filters, totally unmediated. But steadfast guile and limitless misery become his (one-two) weapons. The elations, employed at last year's performance, are absent. Crying, he becomes, just as defeated as a whim. But his legs move around, and he jives and jives and jives, like a crazy set of legs, as if almost no technique is being spared. Tonight. Tonight he is earning his pay. Pray. Prey. Tonight! But only a willful moneymaker, a master of his control, in this reality, earns him his pay.
"Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! For I'm praying you!" screams an old man in the orchestra pit, "For I'm paying you with my best! Tonight! In all ways, I am yours!"
The dancing marble man looks up. He looks at the world. And from the smoke, a seed believes its lofty purpose lost, in a mournful message, in a reluctant admission to that unforeseen realm, of communiqué.
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
**Shroud me in charcoal clouds
and let the frigid autumn wind caress my skin
suspend me in a womb of hidden truths
and bury me sweetly in a hallowed and nihilistic tomb**
So why are you astonished
in this world of rot and *****
when our child-like elations become extinguished by adult realizations
and innocence is *****
**So Shroud me in charcoal clouds
and let the frigid autumn wind caress my skin
suspend me in a womb of hidden truths
and bury me sweetly in a hallowed and nihilistic tomb**
when fear consumes you from the inside out
and all the walls are closing in
I will be your friend
Who can you trust and where do you go,
When you feel so ******* hollow.
When you've bitten off much more than you can swallow
and you watch your dreams slither down the drain
What will keep you sane?
**So Shroud me in charcoal clouds
and let the frigid autumn wind caress my skin
suspend me in a womb of hidden truths
and bury me sweetly in a hallowed and nihilistic tomb**
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
This poem was mused by:
"Shakespeare won't look at me" by Thomas_W._Case
----------------------------------- --------------------------------
We fill our lives with work and stress
in the lust for new possessions
we're taught that this is called success
and it makes for good impressions
But pleasures we’re taught to suppress
so our souls will fly up to the heavens
but this flesh that god has gifted us
are our only true possessions
If we find ourselves casually undressed
which is frankly, our natural condition
and if ****** needs should be addressed
there’s no need for ****** confessions
for pleasure is something to be expressed
if we’re alone or in a marvelous coalition
So I wish you satisfaction in elations quest
as you work the knobs, slants and levers
because this isn’t some kind of competition
P.S. Will Shakespeare was familiar with masturbation's guilty thrills.
"The expense of spirit, in a waste of shame is lust in action"
.
.
A song for this:
Flowers by Miley Cyrus
Jan 30, 2025
Jan 30, 2025 at 9:47 PM UTC
Dearest Abstract,
tell me-
what color you drip when you laugh?
how many languages do you tempest?
when you cry, who spills deeper
you, or the rain?
You abridge me into a litany of mysterious elations.
I asphyxiate inside your rapid joy
and you drive me past my fondest entropy.
I fawn at your luscious humor.
Dearest Abstract,
take me-
outside the realm of plastic men
into the hive of the eloquent-
will o’ the wisp denizens
who flaunts shafts of pickled delight
like isolated pilgrim adventure.
Dearest Abstract
Allow me to dive into the furrows of your didactic faith
and there consume me raw.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
Perish the thought!
Do not leave me in the void
bitter as a wormwood,
lonely as precipitated leaf,
neutral as silent stone,
cold as a sea of winter,
wide as a valley of fiery hell
grief-stricken as dead, young life.
Without you oranges lost sweet taste.
Without you my apartment forfeited soul.
Without you colours are false.
Without you my heart is pinched.
Without you eternal dreams left me.
Without you world has stopped for thousand years.
Without you life is cruel and predictable ride.
Without you I forgot what comfort means.
Without you I despise all world.
Perish the thought!
We shoud still continue to be together.
Remain with me in moments of infinity
before the last spark of hope lights up your repents.
Do not annihilate our love in vexation.
It is unutterable pain.
I don't wish to inflict us upon degradation and misery.
I wish God lives between two of us.
It is not too late
to listen patiently whisper of forgiveness,
to reveal frustrated feelings,
to extinguish embers of confusion,
to find in yourself shadow of lover from the past,
to sink in the depths of my arms,
to forget the human weaknesses,
to look white at each other,
to set the clocks of our bodies at the same time,
to unearth hidden in the rubble of routine chest of elations.
Perish the thought!
You cannot leave without word.
I know you are hot-tempered.
Do not leave me in these moments alone,
moments darker than night.
I will die in slaveries without you.
I put my soul in grave without you.
You are my first and last breath.
I kiss the ground you treaded softly with your feet.
I cuddle the space where you are.
I move my eyes in the hope they will see your form.
Perish the thought
before it is after dusk of our dreams.
I feel like I am completely stranger for you.
I breath half-savage hell in the air.
I am hardy of perfection of our souls.
We are made of the same colours of existence.
I will have to break your heart if you break mine.
But I don't feel strong enough to do this.
I still have power to love you.
Do I want to live without you?
Perish the thought!
Fling your arms around me!
Don't betray your heart!
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
Craving more than tangible.
Tendrils of smoke curl around smouldering hearts.
Pleasurable shudders reverberate throughout.
Bodies move with fluid grace.
Coming together like they already know the steps of the dance, like they've danced together before.
Perhaps another life.
Excitement lust and passion shine in their eyes
Souls recognize eachother
Two broken beings coming together for comfort only to realize they are not in fact broken but strong and powerful
Eascences come tovether and meld into one another neither knows where each respectively ends or begins. Nor do they care for its no longer important.
Elations rings out exploding the body mind and soul as they ley fused for a few breathtaking moments.
As the disentangle they come back to themselves but still connected in a way.
Leaving one another with a piece of themselves in te proccess. Craving more than tangible
Delusion illusion. Or unfeigned authentic.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
poem for kids of the 21st century
whose parents and grandparents ****** the earth
in their log cabins worse than those of perth
with their gov bonds
and their atomic bombs
and their ******** math equations
and their earth killing elations.
now we are left with an earth fuck'd
and we are truly out of luck
only the poets understand
what the politicans cannot know or understand....
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
over the years
life leaves its traces
on our bodies, our souls,
in our memories
the moment when a broken twig
just barely missed the eye
of a cavorting child
the first time promises
turned into cheats, betrayal, strife
adding injustice to the loss of trust
the day when suddenly
you could not read
the writing on the blackboard any more
and needed glasses
the time when playing the piano
got so painful that you had to stop dreaming of a pianist’s career
love’s first elations
followed by despair and disappointment
some lucky instances as well
have kept you kicking & alive until this day
crashing through the old glass door
mostly unharmed
with your first scooter
during a summer job at the steel mill
seeing just your leather working glove
and not your hand
disappear into the hydraulic power press
getting away with just a crick in your neck
when your idiot friend caused a car crash
that left only small pieces of your glasses
in the wreck
out of them all
the scars of loss
or threat of loss
are such that never die
your little son saved
by last-minute surgery
sitting at your daughter’s bed
for several days
until high fever finally abated
your mother’s unexpected death
on the first day of spring
the slow and dreary suffering
your father bore with desperate pride
a few more years
all these engravings
and many more
written by the flow of time and space
are waiting just around the corner
from your daily living room
mixed in with fonder memories
of joyous time and wonderful events
together they have shaped
the person that you are
your life, your world
which you still try
to understand
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
“To love is to tenderly dig into someone’s mind:
His or her heart and soul to forever find!
Care and carry compassionately in storms and in winds
To love is to find an eternal peace in the one that you lovingly abides
Love is to find a familiar ground that two forever binds!
Love is the joy shared by two that in this journey, true rides!
In love are routes rough, in love are ways tough, in love are rails-grids that grinds
Though, in love are determined souls that never part but remains set in strong stands”
A kiss is a stamp of love
To feel your breath warmth in mine
An emboss, an assurance of love
Our staring gaze, the stupors for each other’s sight
Is a language stronger than words-written or verbal
Understood only by two fools honestly hungry for each other
The beauty and peace of your voice
Candidly meaning your saying that you love me alone forever
Is an indelible engrave of our love
Music, a sweet sacred hymn to my soul
Like a piper’s pious pipe, it is a song to my ears
A solemn instrumental, sentimental to my heart
To hear the heart beat of your heart
In the strong embraces of your arms
It’s a stigmata to our love, there to be binding forever!
An umbilical cord strapping us together end-ever
To listen to the whispers of your soul in our feelings and flows
To feel the silences of your heart in our emotions and elations
Is to be entangled in eternal love, to be chained in forever love
You are mine, there is no way I will let you go!
I will fight for you, I will care for you!
I will love you forever and ever for our love is forever
I will love you beyond any Heaven's heights or Earth's extents
Now in its extant and ever even when we are lost extinct
We will watch the earth form and deform together
Nature, magnificently make and despondently delete together forever
Together we will quietly listen to the melodic music of the universe forever
When the sun sad burns, I will be your shade
When storms rage havoc, I will be your shelter
And when the rains pound, I will still be your umbrella
When lightening rudely strikes and thunders raucously scares
I will still be there besides to care, your scares to cure
When snows severely fall, I will be your oven, kiln warmth
When summer and springs sweet sings, I will be your mild melody
And when autumns dull comes, I will be the joy to raise your moistened moods
To who do you owe your heart to? To you I owe my heart
In my heart is my all-my soul, it that outlives me-dust!
Keep compassionate care of my spirit, until I returns-compost!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC
Ripe feelings fill the balmy air
And ride the summer breeze
They twist and dip and whisper
Throughout the wizened Trees
They paint a vivid picture
Full of memory
Of a once caged heart
Now soaring full and free
They tell their tale with gusto
A sense of hushed pride
They speak softly to the flowers
Of a love that’s undenied.
The flowers tell their flower friends
Then those, they do the same;
Every blooming rose bush
Knew the couples names
They gossiped and they whispered
All chattering with ease
Till the story shuffled off
With a couple bumbling bees
These bees they traveled far away
Telling the tale along their ride
Of loves triumphs and elations-
And soon they heard she’d be his bride
And buzzed “congratulations!”
The couple looked into each other’s eyes that day
And said their loving I dos
While Mother Nature smiled on
Delighted by the news
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
Artistry, the mirror of my inner soul,
Revealing my true self, once untold.
Unending an enchantment to impart,
Heavy breath entwined around my heart.
Majestic beauty, a powerful harmony,
Do I love thee or only the idea of thee?
Patience in love, take your time,
Reveals the real and true sublime.
Rising gentle dawns and morning dripping dew,
Uninhibited intentions, conveys love renewed.
Building upon ice castles, whispering it's secrets,
Deep long sleep, crisp breezes among seagrass.
Painter on sandy shores with imaginations,
Essence of sea air and oil hues elations.
Journey among colors, fairweather and storm,
Oh, how lovely you and me, together and warm.
Truth in every canvas, guiding my journey,
Teaching me wonder, exploring more to see.
A moonlight flight among winking stars,
Bringing me back from wandering too far.
Even the burdens of life's play made beautiful,
Stand in awe, let joy unspeakable be unmovable.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 1:15 PM UTC
"i sit in the back
Its comforatble here
Its private here
There are no judging eyes behind me
No distracting whispers
There is only me
And I notice things
I notice the words
I notice the soumds
The smells
The movements
I notice the snarling whispers
Of a parent to a disobedient child
I notice the sweet caress of a lovers hand
Across the others shoulders
I notice the elations of an infant
Of fatigue
Of hunger
Just because they can
I notice the traffic patterns of parents
Dragging and pulling their children
I notice things
I sit in the back
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
KINGS
KIND
INSPIRATIONS
NOTABLY
GRATEFUL
SPECTACULARLY FAITHFUL
QUEENS
QUAINTLY
UNIQUE
EVERYDAY
ELATIONS
NUMEROUS
SIGNIFIED STATUES
Deborrah Ann Stenberg
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC