"explicitness" poems
Examining the accuracy.
Exploring the brightness.
Hunting for certainty.
Inquiring the directness.
Inspecting the lucidity.
Investigating the precision.
Pursuing purity.
On a quest for simplicity.
Researching transparency.
Chasing articulateness.
Frisking comprehensibility.
Going over conspicuousness.
Inquesting a definition.
Rummaging for distinctness.
Scrutinizing the evidence.
Shaking down the exactitude.
On an expedition for explicitness.
Working the legs towards intelligibility.
A perquisition for legibility.
A wild-goose chase for limpidity.
A witch hunt for obviousness.
Interrogating openness.
Probing the palpability.
Prosecuting the penetrability.
Racing perceptibility.
Raiding perspicuity.
Coursing the plainness.
Following the prominence.
Hounding the salience.
Meddling in the tangibility.
Prying into the unambiguity.
Reconnaissance in the cognizability.
Seeking decipherability.
Snooping for explicability.
Sporting limpidness.
On a steeplechase for manifestness.
Studying the overness.
Tracing unmistakability.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
i sigh a little
i fly a little
this is the one! - this is the thing!
"when do you want to pull over?"
"right now"
It's christmas, mail is the contract -
The gig is off,
Highway 40 to highway 1,
I sleep until the roadway becomes an exit because dreams excite me more -
because of the ****** and explicitness.
Commercials sound through out the house, televisions left on like a slow memory
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
I'm a wayward wayfarer
People see my explicitness
My connotations
remain
obscure.
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 3:10 AM UTC
In the end, her own storm went against her
leaving her thrashing
eyes burning white hot
A flickering fire,but faster
moving with desperation
her eyes alight, she thrashed
as the hurricane in her mind
screeched, screamed and blared
a single thought
I must make art.
Her mind, too vast
Her horizons extending to no end
her thoughts, her words
her dreams, her fears
at the slightest stir
became a storm
She dared to attempt
to capture her storm
to the blank canvas
that even at the end
remained blank
the most she could do
was try to capture the colours
in the right shade
but she couldn't let her mind expand into the paper
for her soul had taken over
but her heart kept to itself
saving the best for last
But her burning goal
remained the same
Her mind- a raging Hurricane
Her soul- an everlasting darkness
Her Heart- a flickering flame
But in her glass body
she held it in
till she fell in shards
together they leapt and thrashed
while she perfected the colours of her storm
only to repeat them
as she failed to express
the explicitness of what she contained
In the end, it was her own storm that went against her
in the end, her soul was too vast to be contained
In the end, her her heart was too hot to keep contained
In the end, her soul was too dark to be contained
in the glass body
she ran to the rain
and let out her soul
and let out her heart
and let out her mind
and laughed wickedly
the storm worsened
the trees burned
and the light didn't shine,
for a long time
but she laughed and laughed
till her shards fell
at her
nonexistent feet.
In the end
her art remained
a blank canvas
next to
a perfect palette.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
I will just keep writing
as it opens a door for sharing.
the hearts wanting, the minds
constant watch. protecting the heart song.
she's too loud,
explode forced air, that stare
the contact within.
she bares the scalp,
get some circulation up there.
prepare for the next round.
the pour down,
fulfillment found. the cups abundance
minds found, ground covered
though miles abound.
my hearts call loud, and the times
are being seen through ancient eyes.
the lies all fall apart as One is realized.
sacrificed, white flag flying type. submittal
to my self.
trust my sight, it stretches the net
and captures just outside the entangled mess.
like fishing the sea
trying to capture those pieces of me,
as they flow out
and infect.
and if the best of me wasn't what I give,
if I didn't need to feel this to live,
I would sulk within and wish my self home.
since young these days have been confusing
always right outside the embrace of love.
experience is the basic instant
yet we are not it.
mine have been hell bent on pressing intention.
like theres just no other way to it.
the explicitness of my days, of my pain.
I AM just outperformed it.
so basic, and my pain only prepared me
for it. Oh I give thanks to bear witness.
to the darkness, and the light it births
religious.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Is it sad how I’ve only kissed three people in my life?
And expect to make love on the first time with a lover instead of casually *******
I’m nothing
My *** life is made of white dove
The innocence replaces the explicitness in my seductive walk
I strut
****
I’m shut
I hope to be something
Have something that’s out of touch
But I’m too smart
I’m too cautious
I’m too focused
I just wanna let go for a while
Lose my style maybe even smile when I reach my peaks on mountains and
Resemble fountains
And squeeze hands while on a bike ride
Taste the citrus in a ruby fruit jungle
I’ve always liked limes more than lemons
Dark chocolate more than milk
Wine over syrup
Let’s go out for a snack asometime
Maybe an aphrodisiac
Slack on my work a little
Work my hips a little
Be a little more than just a good girl
I got bright eyes
And I still like big lollipops
I still like sweet things
And show of my chest with spaghetti strap tank tops
And sometimes I get tempted from holding hands and whispers
I shiver
Quiver
Stutter
Like Betty Boop
My eyes flutter
These tiny climaxes cluster until my chocolate cheeks luster
In a shade similar to your car
The red one you can see in the lights from far
but I could never step inside
I need a ride
We should hide
But you can’t even scream my name to my window or play WET DREAMS
To my window from your radio cause you’re too afraid who would look out
Remember I’m a good girl
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC