"excitation" poems
That time being nation's condition worse
For all to exist in yoke motherland seemed
to be curse
Having country's onus on youths to freed
So swear to intent freedom theirs' mind
vivid
With full enthusiasm, excitation and zeal
Everyone gone for country's wound to heal
Having all that time the same intent
Anyone who felt country's screaming of
******* present!
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
#
*This coup
A new nation
Loyal dedication
Its classification*
‘Species procreation’
Prevents us from facing
A human cessation
selective mutation
Gestation
Creation
It may help explaining
The reasons
Behaving
*But not the foundation
Or actions
We’re basing*
A simplification
is “continuation”
A checkbox
left vacant
*Fulfillment
We’re chasing*
We sweat
Eyes are gazing
A slight
palpitation
In need of hydration
Complete excitation
Without
hesitation
Intense stimulation
**Deep urges
Heart racing**
*Driven
By sensations*
**Unbounded fixation
Pelvic
Undulations
Clothing
Perforations
Time no longer wasting**
***This capitulation
a Sanctification
****** gyrations
Hint of ***********
The bedroom
Safe haven
For what
we are craving
*Once out
and displaying*
It all had been taken
Before
Feeling vacant
Freed imagination
A resuscitation
Indulged depravation
A rhythm
we’re setting
The giving and getting
**Destroying
the bedding**
All else I’m forgetting
Entwined
with each other
Like entangled netting
*Both
on the same trip
In a unified heading*
Now comes
the summation
A true
Revelation
Final
culmination
Smash all expectations
***Volcanic
eruption***
That lasts the duration
**Loud gasp
We unlock**
Filled with gratification
#
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:19 AM UTC
The Sight of Black Stockings on Pale white Legs
Framing and showing off the Thigh, That Begs
Softly to be touched, in gentle Admiration
Women in Silk, Lace, and Satin for Excitation
Camisoles of Lace, Garters and Penoirs
Corsets Laced up, and Short Babydolls
*Lace Demi Cup Bras, with ******* Adorned*
Without the Pleasure of this, life is Forlorn
*There is a Certain ****** Passion*
For these Fine Lingerie Fashions
Lust and Loved for Centuries
*It Brings forth ***** Sensuality*
Curve and Crevices tease the Eyes
Releasing ever Passionete Sighs
Until Entwined they Finally Find
The unyeildings of Motions Devine
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
The rosy-fingered dawn
bleeds excitation
and atmospheric trails
for seeking out tomorrow
Are these stars like rain?
Emitting imagination,
refracting suggestion?
Perhaps a new art form swimming
about as cloudbursts?
In undulating waves
war and peace
are colliding out from
the center of the sun
Could they be
messengers from heaven?
A signal from God?
Perhaps at magnetic midnight,
four horsemen shall ride?
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 10:54 AM UTC
Constipation, ************
excitation, evaluation
Hold on a minute
HIS Creation
The mind went blank
the body convulsed
no-one knows why
but theories abound
Expectation, demolition,
misinterpretation, damnation,
Wait a second
MY Creation
I did so much
in my chaotic youth
probably nothing to blame
only me and my likes
Infuriation, retaliation,
malediction, apprehension,
stop-look-listen
THEIR Creation
It seems unfair
but why despair
put it in perspective
certainly things could be worse
Demoralization
Intimidation
Expectation
Presumption
Assumption
Palpitation
Aggravation
Ball of confusion
Trepidation
Holy ****
A VIOLENT Creation
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
Les être, le cosmos, la terre et le vin
(Dédié à l’incomparable génie Charles Baudelaire)
Les ceps murissent longuement sous l’énigmatique lueur des cieux,
irisés par les ondes astrales du Cosmos et ses grands vents de feu.
Des gelées de janvier aux averses d’avril, le vigneron soigne ses vignes.
qui souffrent des fournaises de l’été jusqu’à la bouilloire dorée de l’automne.
Le vin est d’abord fruit des astres et des cieux, mais aussi de la patience et de l’art du vigneron.
Il y a une magie du vin qui vient sceller les noces mystiques de l’azur, de la terre, du cosmos et des graves.
Il existe dans le vin comme une consécration des noces d’or de la terre, des pierres et de l’azur,
Qui lui donne son caractère âpre ou velouté, son goût inimitable, sa vraie signature, son héraldique.
Un palais exercé saura toujours en déceler l’empreinte pour y trouver sa genèse et gouter ses merveilles.
Mais c’est le vigneron qui consacre ces noces avec son savoir, son doigté, sa manière d’opérer le grand œuvre des vendanges.
Le choix de la date des vendanges dépend de l’intuition humaine et correspond au sacre de l’automne.
Au moment où les grappes pèsent et ou les raisins sont gonflés comme de lourds pendentifs,
alors que les raisins mûrs sont prêts à sortir de leur enveloppe dorée pour se transformer en élixir.
Le vigneron prend la décision sacrale de celle dont dépend la qualité du vin à naître.
Et les vendanges vont se mener dans une atmosphère d’excitation et de sentiment de franchissement du danger.
Désormais le vin sorti du pressoir va murir dans des barriques de chêne
Le bois peut apporter sa chauffe méthodique afin que se mêlent au jus des arômes de bois et de forêts,
C’est sûr, cette année, les forces de la nature et de l’Homme nous préparent un grand vin.
Aussi quel honneur et quel rite magique que d’en boire les premières gorgées dans des coupes d’argent ou des verres de cristal,
avant même que le vin ne soit fait et tiré pour en détecter les grands traits et les failles.
Enfin, vient le moment de boire, comme une élévation des cœurs et des esprits.
L’on ne boit bien qu’en groupe, qu’avec de vrais amis, sa chérie ou des belles.
Boire c’est d’abord humer et découvrir par le nez les secrets d’un terroir et des pampres,
puis humecter ses lèvres afin de s’imprégner des sucs et des saveurs,
et puis boire surtout, c’est œuvre de finesse, d’expression de l’Esprit et de bonne humeur; qu’il y ait de l’ivresse, fort bien, mais jamais d’ivrognerie
Paul Arrighi ; Toulouse(France), le 3 novembre 2013
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:36 AM UTC
I Spent an Evening
With a Couple of Friends.
That for a simple night out
Had a passionate End.
He, Lean with a Beard And,
She lithe and Long Haired.
As they Blindfolded me and,
Gently Lay Me on the Bed.
I soon felt two lips to please,
Two tongues to tease.
Four Hands to Caress,
My Fevered Flesh.
Then she moans softly,
To my Tongue's Manipulation.
I feel the heat of
His deep Penetertion
As we seek out the Rythnm
Of our Excitation.
And Explode in a Torrent
Of Sweat and Flesh
from the collection "POETIC STALKINGS'
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Have you ever been
pulled over by the culture
police?
I know this culture cop
who loves pulling people
over for self-expression.
He'll wait till you break
into color, and cut you
off at your most emphatic.
He'll **** burp, scoff--
master craft a discombobulating
smack to your mouth.
He thinks most expression pins
you down to obviousness.
So by definition a lack of expression,
or stifled expression, means
you're not being obvious.
Therefore tolerable, but being obvious, or not being obvious is still
being, trying--expressly.
Watchdog of his own passive-agression, his cagey brooding activated by voices in excitation
of uniqueness.
He's living hard between the lines,
unable to read so to speak, as sing!
My mouthy mute carbon copy
of repression, I'm so sorry--truly.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC
To my Saturn
After years of waiting
Aimless orbiting
Kaleidoscopic space-time bending
Our paths finally converge
Admiration and excitation surge
In this great conjunction
it showed me this one great revelation –
this is the closest we would ever be,
this is the closest we could ever be
Only in this lifetime, hopefully…
Even if it is just a brief encounter
I would not trade it for another…
Until then, my dearest Saturn...
-Your Jupiter
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 11:39 AM UTC
From the dark black clouds
lightning strikes
rusty old iron pike
pointing the sky
atop a haunted mansion
Charge flows into the earth
getting dispersed, neutralized
sky and clouds rumble
in joy, their claps thunder
across the valley
window panes resonate
with laughter
I stand in the haunted house
like an apparition a Ghost
at the window
Clouds appear to me as parade
of tiny dust people, Mexican wave of charges
travelling down vibrating hot plasma
to my blind eyes
enhancing the beauty of
a streak of white on
dark black canvas
In turn enhancing charging
electrochemical excitation at synapse
releasing a wave of calcium ions
as billions of cells and charges
work in harmony to create
a single conscious me
A vision of future
not so bleak dawns
before my blind eyes
as billions of living conscious
living organisms blend
in harmony as all the charges
resonate upholding inherent
diversity we empathize
into a single entity earth
Clearing the puzzle of evolution
from interacting particles and charges
to a cell with auxiliary units to
multicellular organisms to a single
Conscious beings to a single Conscious
PLANET
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
<p><p>Les environs magnifiques de Squaw Valley .les détails classiques avec une touche rustique par Summit Soiree.jeunes mariés tiré à quatre épingles et Virgile Bunao faire ce qu'il fait le mieux ;prendre un beau cliché après l'autre .Ce mariage va tirer droit vers le haut de votre liste de favoris .je vous le garantis .Voir beaucoup plus ici .\u003cp\u003ePartager cette superbe galerie ColorsSeasonsSummerSettingsOudoorStylesAl Fresque <p>C'était un régal pour capturer Sarah et la session d'engagement de Daniel pendant Thanksgiving 2012 à Charleston .Le temps était maintenant en train de refroidir et de s'installer de l'apogée de la chaleur fou nous avons tendance à obtenir ici .mais qui ne les empêche pas de regarder si frais et si dans l'amour .Je comptais les jours avant leur mariage <a href="http://www.modedomicile.com/robe-demoiselle-dhonneur-c-60"><b>robe de demoiselle d'honneur</b></a> .à photographiez des scènes qui ont eu lieu .Je ne savais pas comment époustouflé je serais au milieu de ces montagnes .Lake Tahoe est un endroit magnifique et la joie de leurs familles et l'excitation Sarah et Daniel présentait à chaque fois mon appareil photo et j'ai regardé les faits Squaw Valley incroyablement picturesque.Being si élevé .chaque centimètre de cet endroit avait une lueur intense .Tout brillait .Sarah brillait .Daniel brillait .La verdure brillait .Lors de la cérémonie .la petite niche dans les bois .nous étions à eu un peu de lumière magnifique .À ce moment .il était clair que je devais laisser à Sarah .Daniel .leurs invités .et le soleil de faire toute cette journée mémorable .Ils ont fait Photographie <p>: Virgil Bunao | planification de l'événement: . Sommet Soiree | Robe <b>robe de demoiselle d honneur pas cher</b> de mariage: Monique Lhuillier | Cérémonie Lieu: Plump Jack Inn | Réception Lieu: Plump Jack Inn | Restauration : Plump Jack InnMonique Lhuillier est un membre de notre Look Book .Pour plus d'informations sur la façon dont les membres sont choisis .cliquez ici .Virgile Bunao photographie est <a href="http://www.modedomicile.com/robe-demoiselle-dhonneur-pas-cher-c-20"><b>robe de demoiselle d honneur pas cher</b></a> un membre de notre Little Black Book .Découvrez comment les membres sont choisis <p><a href="http://modedomicile.com/goods.php?id=2423" target="_blank"><img width="240" height="320" src="http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/4187435353535_396606.jpg"></a></p> en visitant notre page de FAQ .Virgile Bunao Photographie voir le</p>
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Snow, Soft White and Lovely......
The thing of Childhood imagination
Wind Curling it to Drifts and Excitation
Snow Dancing in a Twirling Ballet
Items covered where ever they lay
It covers the grime and Looks so clean
Yet as deadly as a bullet and twice as Mean...
The Halloween blizzard, we got 3 Feet of snow
A Man in his truck that ended up stuck
He chose to walk it to find Some Gas
You soon find when your snow blind
There is no direction or destination to find
Where they found his truck They Searched
Snow Mobiles on the fields Searched Avast
Not till Easter Snow melt he was found at Last
10 feet from his truck, well they didn't Know
He was Buried under Snow Plow Furrow.....JMF 2/3/15
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
They say the best stimulation,
Lies in one's imagination.
True, this may work some of the time
Just like candy, roses and wine,
But nothing achieves excitation
Better than infatuation.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 12:15 PM UTC
From dream awakening
To perfect storm
With silver lightening
The sky adorned
Molecules in excitation
Trees bow in supplication
A perfect dissertation
Exclamation
Illustration
Orchestration
Revelation
Stimulation
Transformation
Veneration
From my 0300 weather station
r ~ 22Feb14
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
a few seconds left
a few minutes
a few hours
a few days
i'm spinning in circles,
twirling the sky,
and the dizziness decreases.
every second hand's tick echoes infinitely
echo echo
a glance, a hand-wring
I pick my nails.
Time
the departure and arrival of the present
Evolution of the future into the past.
The grass is growing
The surroundings groan
while i try to open my eyes
tense with
anticipation
excitation
gas tank almost empty
big capital e's have never looked so attractive
Now, the doors will be unlocked,
And ripped off
And crunched, crushed,
And incinerated, obliterated.
Oh,
what a refreshing breeze
smells like sunflowers,
pomegranates,
and honey.
Let's neglect new barriers.
I can see
the pores of time.
I'm the future
a crane, an eagle
an equal
The doorknob's key is in my hand,
An axe in the other.
All those years
of inescapable limitation to
the view from a windowsill,
they will soon be the senile, wrinkled remains
of tears, of fears, of jeers.
Soon, I will soar
Escape this world of sore
Existence at the core
Of the personalities who tore
At the pained cultivation of my soul,
Who decided it was best to close my doors,
I know, I swear, these shackles, held in the hands of unmuffled cackles,
Will disintegrate in nothing
but dust and flies to blind their eyes,
Keeping them, from once again,
Binding me into void oblivion,
I am blinded by triumphant tears,
They'll evaporate eventually,
Leaving behind puffed and swollen emotional Glory.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 8:43 PM UTC
*** Julia sways in the same Winter, losing an up hill battle of deep seated Calvinistic virtues and the excitation of **********
@@@ Julia goes on weekend holiday with her parents in hopes of losing her virginity in some square of Savannah.
@@@ Julia packs a bible, hoping to burn it in a symbolic rite of passage.
@@@ Julia packs a doll, hoping to drop it from a rocky bluff, post de flowerization, a highly political and artistic statement.
@@@ Julia packs the lucky strike cigarettes she took from the family gardener years ago, saved for her first post coitus cigarette.
@@@ Julia fiddles with a razor in her parents washroom. Breaking a piece and tucking it in her fingernail, as she read once that prostitutes do.
&&& Julia plans to draw blood in her ****** the man or men severing herself from the responsibility of a ***** & she severing her skin as tribute to a new brokenness.
@@@ Julia fantasizes her flower's loss to be on a rich man's bed with one or two plainly handsome sons of a rich man.
@@@ Julia desires the experience to be ****** seething with heat and violence.
@@@ Julia prays for this chaos, to shed her modest and humble skin, to become a quiet ***** in this painful flash of light.
@@@
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
§
So many beautiful
Wasted words,
that die unconsumed
or else we eat our own meals
In shame,
or throw them out in disgust,
Why keep a log of failures
when the redundancy of its content
only illustrates our foolishness.
Worshipping *** and violence as dark gods
because we are all excitation driven animals.
We fail to comprehend the divinity of these acts.
A merging of twin energies, such as these
creates wild vortexs of contrary paradoxes,
overwhelming conundrums of need and desire.
We beg for destruction,
for we know that the longing can only be dulled,
the aching throb creeps along our day,
seeping in to enslave us in this cage.
In the horrific spiraling mania,
hands reach out, but loving arms are torn apart,
with declarations of desire and dedication
being shredded and scattered to whirlwind.
Long ago, I said this, with a foul mouth,
and you deserved so much better,
So I will say it again, so that perhaps this time
it will adhere to your mind, and fuse with your spine...
You are beautiful in the mirrors of my eyes,
and I carry your image stapled to my brain,
with the words
I love you,
carved into my frontal lobe
with a ceramic knife,
forged out of the powdered bones
of our failures.
Our victory lies
in knowing that our restless lips
await each other with all the patience they can muster
until I am able to touch you
and draw you to me,
so that I can pull forth
the divinity inside of you,
and merge it with mine
in a maelstrom of *** and violence.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 2:51 PM UTC
Excitation
Moving
From one phase
Moving higher
Transforming
Your heart
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 3:31 AM UTC