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"fervent" poems
# *paint me with the wet tickle of your tongue lingering with affection savoring my fervent flavor in bold strokes of your obsession color my essence in heated hues sending shivers down my spine in anticipation of your warm breath against my flesh with every blissful caress to ensue painted petals of animation with your supple lips gently blur the lines of my curved hips softly stroking the subtle shadows of warm depth, blushing quivering thighs as I gasp of breath plunge in a primer coated palette dipping your stiff paintbrush deep within the folds of my blanket manipulating a trembling image of your voracious lust. craze me again and again in breathless ****** glow, your sensual brushstrokes gently murmuring layer on layer in alla prima flow delve deep into my eyes paint splattering the passion of my soul drizzling silken strands of love in their entirety, polishing me whole and then in blissful backwash admire the tangled limbs interposed of your completed masterpiece in smiling sated repose* #
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC
Paint Me
*Brittle dry earth beaming with longing, For wet kisses from heavy heavens' door, In soothing rain, finds the heart’s belonging, Releasing the sweetest aroma...petrichor.* ***The mist of warm moist wafting playfully, Kissing and engulfing in a subtle unworldly spin... A feeling ensnared by the clutches of fond remembrance. Like the cadence of your breaths upon my parched skin...*** *A taste of your last dance on my fervent lips, Awoken with each drop, still makes me thirst, I lift my head, entranced by memory’s grips, Craving you, again to make my heart burst.* ***Here again...two drenched hearts encased in glass, Latent spectres melded together as they did before, Promises wrapped and bound to the gaits of the other, In eternal dance, laced with everlasting redolent petrichor...*** Dajena M rhymesmith
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Petrichor (Collaboration with Dajena M...again!)
I am Christian. I believe in the Trinity of the Holy God, The Son, and The Spirit, I believe that Jesus is the Son of God and the savior of mankind I own more than three Bibles I teach Sunday School every week and I pray every night. I am Christian, And as such I Hate queer.... Phobia. I can not stand intolerance And I cry at hatred, Blood running in the streets, Fear running in veins, Running away from the truth. I am Christian, yet There are bloodstains in my Bible And the prayers on my lips Are for forgiveness for who I am. The entire story of ***** is Crossed out, blacked out angrily In the dead of night In all 4 versions, Leviticus is blurred, Wrinkled with my tears, Soaked with my pain. I am Christian And I am not homophobic. I know my church won't recognize Non cis-het marriages, Leaving entire worlds of rainbows in the dark The higher-ups insist Weddings are white, shiny, husband-and-wife, happily-ever-after affairs That shove me and my friends, my family, my lovers, Into closets of heavenly wrath and Fire and brimstone sermons, Locked into personal hells of shame And confusion. I am Christian And I am not straight. My God doesn't hate me for who I love, He loves me because I try not to hate. So to the homophobic Christians, I ask: Who is your God? Who is your God that supposedly condemns people He has created in his own image? Your rainbow picket signs are nothing but a cruel mockery of a covenant Not truly shared by you. Your tongues are no better than the viper's who called Adam and Eve to sin, You are the vipers of my world. Do you think you avoid judgement When trans teens are killed By the bullets you spit with your words? Who is your God, That tells you to picket the funerals Of those you hate? Who is your God, That refuses to let you open your heart to differentness? I am Christian, And I don't need your permission to Love my God. Take my scars and tear-stained Bibles, Listen to my fervent prayers, Watch my lips tremble when I listen to my pastor. I don't need your permission To love who I want, In fact I don't want it. Take my midnight screaming and fear of coming out, Listen to my frantic pleading for a hand to hold, Watch my eyes linger on her chest. I am Christian. My God doesn't hate me for who I love, He hates you who refuse to love While you carry His name, if Not his blessing. So I ask again Who is your God? Because mine loves all of me, All 5'6" of queer pride. Who is your God?
0
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
Not A Stereotype
I am Christian. I believe in the Trinity of the Holy God, The Son, and The Spirit, I believe that Jesus is the Son of God and the savior of mankind I own more than three Bibles I teach Sunday School every week and I pray every night. I am Christian, And as such I Hate queer.... Phobia. I can not stand intolerance And I cry at hatred, Blood running in the streets, Fear running in veins, Running away from the truth. I am Christian, yet There are bloodstains in my Bible And the prayers on my lips Are for forgiveness for who I am. The entire story of ***** is Crossed out, blacked out angrily In the dead of night In all 4 versions, Leviticus is blurred, Wrinkled with my tears, Soaked with my pain. I am Christian And I am not homophobic. I know my church won't recognize Non cis-het marriages, Leaving entire worlds of rainbows in the dark The higher-ups insist Weddings are white, shiny, husband-and-wife, happily-ever-after affairs That shove me and my friends, my family, my lovers, Into closets of heavenly wrath and Fire and brimstone sermons, Locked into personal hells of shame And confusion. I am Christian And I am not straight. My God doesn't hate me for who I love, He loves me because I try not to hate. So to the homophobic Christians, I ask: Who is your God? Who is your God that supposedly condemns people He has created in his own image? Your rainbow picket signs are nothing but a cruel mockery of a covenant Not truly shared by you. Your tongues are no better than the viper's who called Adam and Eve to sin, You are the vipers of my world. Do you think you avoid judgement When trans teens are killed By the bullets you spit with your words? Who is your God, That tells you to picket the funerals Of those you hate? Who is your God, That refuses to let you open your heart to differentness? I am Christian, And I don't need your permission to Love my God. Take my scars and tear-stained Bibles, Listen to my fervent prayers, Watch my lips tremble when I listen to my pastor. I don't need your permission To love who I want, In fact I don't want it. Take my midnight screaming and fear of coming out, Listen to my frantic pleading for a hand to hold, Watch my eyes linger on her chest. I am Christian. My God doesn't hate me for who I love, He hates you who refuse to love While you carry His name, if Not his blessing. So I ask again Who is your God? Because mine loves all of me, All 5'6" of queer pride. Who is your God?
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79
The diverse assortment of enrapturing conviction Is but cacophony to most other than me, Discord to the passionate, Defending concepts they find true Clamor to the indifferent, Those value peace and human happiness Above factual correctness For years they’ve all, with incessant attempts Given their utmost to indoctrinate me, The most easily swayed of all— But I’ve found in the rupturing of the fervent, All ideology, ethic, doctrine, And in the serenity of the agreeably pacific I’ve found faith, hope—I’m sure that’s my own, Art is by no means meaningless, I find, Especially so when inherent by human ability And ascribed to this lyrical poem I’ve crafted Consisting of what I, by my means, find true Diverse conviction is beautiful.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
Diverse Conviction
Touch as the fervent feeling seek to know the ambiguity of it, Feel as the ****** of a sparrow wing crept upon my dreams, Fathom as the grief of rocks shrieked on deserted mountains, And the Sky was blue Touched by a Crescent Moon Unraveling the hidden truth How life was promised to me and you Awe as landscapes vanished from distant perplexing shores, Sigh as Long ships sailed on white ashes coasting inherently, Fright as the voluptuous sights, faking wonders in my night, And the Sky was blue mellifluously My Heart as to see a magnificent feeling to be free the beauty relentless, endlessly weave Pray as the growing wind whisper, a phrase to forever keep, Kneel as crowds offered Him, a gratitude of rejoicing praise, Trust as dandelions glides, the strength of His binding faith, And the Sky was blue for God is forever faithful & true to broken lives, he one's renew Keeping his promise to come again soon Awake as the daybreak reveal, memories of our love revisit, Sing as angels on white veil’s, bring you to heaven's place, Gone is the world I once knew, eyes closing as my soul flew, Amen...
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Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 8:07 PM UTC
◦ And the Sky was Blue
During my manic episodes, you found me fun, fervent, even amazing. You told me that you wouldn’t trade my love for anything. You told me that I made the butterflies dance in your stomach, and made the demons disappear in your head. With every “I love you,” there was a smirk and a kiss. You told me that I was one of a kind and you’d be there for me no matter what because you couldn’t imagine living without me. After my first bad episode, you started telling me that my love was overbearing and you needed space. You told me that you felt suffocated and I was like a child craving attention from their mother. You told me I was too repetitive and you just wanted to go get high. Every time I said “I love you” you looked at me, shrugged, and said “me too.” I asked you what happened to “forever” and you said only sane girls keep their prince. You acted as if I got to pick and choose what disorder I wanted. As if being bipolar was a luxury I wasn’t taking advantage of. When you got sent to a mental institution for attempting suicide, I searched for you for six hours until your mom told me where you were. After you returned, I helped you find yourself again and lost myself in the process. I sacrificed everything for your well-being, and you had no interest in mine. You made me believe that being bipolar made you a terrible person, but then I looked at you with tearful eyes, and got a peek at what terrible really is. Thanks to you, I know who I am.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Bipolar Disorder and "Princes" Don't Mix
During my manic episodes, you found me fun, fervent, even amazing. You told me that you wouldn’t trade my love for anything. You told me that I made the butterflies dance in your stomach, and made the demons disappear in your head. With every “I love you,” there was a smirk and a kiss. You told me that I was one of a kind and you’d be there for me no matter what because you couldn’t imagine living without me. After my first bad episode, you started telling me that my love was overbearing and you needed space. You told me that you felt suffocated and I was like a child craving attention from their mother. You told me I was too repetitive and you just wanted to go get high. Every time I said “I love you” you looked at me, shrugged, and said “me too.” I asked you what happened to “forever” and you said only sane girls keep their prince. You acted as if I got to pick and choose what disorder I wanted. As if being bipolar was a luxury I wasn’t taking advantage of. When you got sent to a mental institution for attempting suicide, I searched for you for six hours until your mom told me where you were. After you returned, I helped you find yourself again and lost myself in the process. I sacrificed everything for your well-being, and you had no interest in mine. You made me believe that being bipolar made you a terrible person, but then I looked at you with tearful eyes, and got a peek at what terrible really is. Thanks to you, I know who I am.
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19
*forever watching the cliché love movies boy loves girl loves boy wondering when is it my turn to be lifted into a kiss so passionate so consuming it engulfs the soul in a burning flame of passion emotions erupting into libidinous realities a desire so fervent a kiss so intimate the entire universe seems to be at your command one kiss that can determine a lifetime the one true kiss*
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
One True Kiss
Through the wandering spectrum Of cerulean dragonfly eyes You fly without hesitation Observing the vast and marvelous world As if it were your own As if it were your cut-out template, With an admirable sense of wonder And the fervent desire Not only to know But to contemplate The luminescence of a fluttering firefly How the brittle mechanisms of life Apply Through crystal-clear dragonfly wings You carry your mind
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
dragonfly
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Decadence of a Muse
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
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47
these shallow glimpses we share as days grow long the scattered thoughts swirl and bury themselves in crevices of this old house to be re-awakened perhaps when we are many years gone what can we salvage of this eternal bond while the Sun buries itself behind the Oak that we've watched grow from the kitchen window since the days when our hair was thick and dark and the smell of fresh cut wood was present what words can I say to bring tears to your eyes tears that would come from but a glimpse that shouted my fervent love we are captives of our timeless, undying, unwavering hearts yet all that remains of this diminishing soul would disperse like the final slivers of light should I lose you
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Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
undying
My dearest love, If I were to explain the music in my ears, It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor, Fervent beats and emotional rhythms, Pursue a possibly tangible idea, Shining lights and keyboards, Coffee colored electric energy, Pulsing in amber jelly motion, A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus, Stimulating the tear sacs, Which then open and shed a bassline, Which repeats in nonexistent space, Maybe… Just maybe… It stretches into eternity.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Isaac
Your apodyopsis Is enticing And Every single part of me Is entangling In this gaol Of carnal insecurities And fervent longings. S.N
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
Longings
Chills run down your spine Caress with a caress, tender Breaking a physical valve, meander Touch to touch, unkeeping of the line Unplanned, a mystery thick as pine Feeling, shaking like thunder Nothing short of splendor Heart breaking without time Pulling away from rush Far from appeasement No longer engrossed, no longer heated lush Cold like the words he meant Stinging like fireside brush Kisses from fervent 14 April
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Kisses (Actuality)
To Selene: Rare a night, her gentle grace is not seen; Live long torches, shamed, by her beauty’s gleam! The Queen of night, my heart, she reigns supreme. Floating high in deep, black lakes of my dreams, Softly she gazes down past thick and thin; Distant is her love as we skin to skin; Fooled, my fervent stretch is never within, Her affection for me, I’ll never win. My heart, her misfortune can only reap This last choice—wound us both more than my weep! For her sympathy, my eternal sleep! Now like me, may her woe forever keep. By day miss her and dream of her by noon Forever, rest in heart, my dear honey, moon
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Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 7:29 PM UTC
Endymion's Letter
As the Thunderbolt God Jupiter Saturn’s brother Pursued his loves in disguise The Goddess Hera sat upon her throne Irritated and plotting Gazing with angry jealous eyes Oh, courageous intelligent Athena ****** Goddess of the hunt Dare the foolish to cast eyes upon her unclothed Under the sentence of a tortuous death Its said by many she was not birthed But sprang surprisingly from her father’s head The lovely Aphrodite Would melt the hearts of many a man Who would offer up their life For but a faint touch of her hand The Light God Apollo admirer of the word, reciting poetry Pluck the gold lyres delicate strings While the sea god Poseidon’s twelve daughters Mermaids Dressed in dripping seaweed began to sing Ares of the bold god of war Feared conqueror and great warrior Planted flowers As was his custom in the spring Artemis in fervent haste strung her magical bow For it was pursuit that stirred her blood It flowed through her veins Aged Roman wine Running stags through shadowy woods The gods of the Kings The Gods of the people To whom many sacrifices were made Lived thousands of years beyond the lifespan of man So, say the storytellers of olden times and past days All right Reserved. Tammy M. Darby. Jan. 31, 2019 All Material Stored in Author Base
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 9:08 PM UTC
The Gods
The solitude of when two hands meet garners thoughts of warmth and want for needs unspoken I miss the days when simplicity was as common as the delicate exhale shared when two lips release from one a other To gaze through sultry windows of the soul, soft yet weary with fervent witness, beckons notions of wanderlust to a place that shines brighter than any I've ever seen I watch, bound by valor for not seeking more through presumptuous ineptitude; bewildered by the plight you've been mired by, I wince at the thought of harm coming to you Your trust exudes a powerful purpose; wrought from the ashes of all that have claimed to impose before, I succumb to the surfeit of such a staggering meaning in that gift I hold myself in bated breath for the day you would ever need my heart for your own, but stay guided to be here in spirit, ever more Although my basic wishes be forlorn, in somber muse I find great purpose to be a part of this grand fate bestowed upon me You are all I've ever sought; and through disbelief, I am remiss of all that's mired me before If only, one day, perhaps we could be more..
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Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
Sought
I fall to my knees, Kneeling before you, My Master, Groveling at your glorious feet, To reveal the chains of submission, Weighing down my delicate form. You gaze upon me, Beholding soft skin shimmering, As my body is folded over; Viewing my tantalizing beauty, As I bestow myself, To fulfill your deepest desires, Conjuring the darkest yearnings, Manifesting within. “Rise, Baby Girl’’, Your deep voice commands, Reverberating within this crimson colored chamber, As your figure towers over me, Beckoning my legs to stand, Obliging to please you, As my hazel eyes encounter, The blazing intensity of your own, Sending flames to burn, Down to the small of my back. Fear is the armor I allow to fall, Tumbling to the ground, Cloaking myself in trust, As I allow my body to be, Touched by dominant hands, Trussed up by ropes and chains, To restrain to me. Willingly becoming prey, To the sweet, antagonizing caress, Before your hand aggressively strikes, My behind, Sending me into a realm, Of pleasure and pain, Morphing into one sensation. Free is the response I experience, As you bounds my wrists, With your tie, Pinning me down, Straddling my body. Placed between your thighs, With your heated lips, Conquering every inch of my body. The Sting of the flogger, Is a bite against the skin I crave, As silence is the language, I choose to speak, Feeling your fingertips claim me, As your territory to reign over, As you please. I yearn to satisfy the hunger, Starving to be your nourishment; For Sadism to feed, Upon masochism, As a balance of power is established, As we lose ourselves in fiery passion. Dominance and Submission, Forces meant to bond to the other, In a marriage of infliction and reception, Of blissful agony, Accepting the temptations you direct, Towards me as guide, To obtain our darkest of fantasies. Submission speaks out within, The silence as I give you, A proffered hand, Succumbing to the sensual dreams, You promise to me, Allowing you to possess me in any way, You wish in accordance to our terms. May you indulge upon my form, Like decadent candy you crave, To devour, Savoring every taste, Sound, smell, and touch, In this licentious dance between you, My Master, And me, your fervent lady, Of submission.
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Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
"Submission"
I fall to my knees, Kneeling before you, My Master, Groveling at your glorious feet, To reveal the chains of submission, Weighing down my delicate form. You gaze upon me, Beholding soft skin shimmering, As my body is folded over; Viewing my tantalizing beauty, As I bestow myself, To fulfill your deepest desires, Conjuring the darkest yearnings, Manifesting within. “Rise, Baby Girl’’, Your deep voice commands, Reverberating within this crimson colored chamber, As your figure towers over me, Beckoning my legs to stand, Obliging to please you, As my hazel eyes encounter, The blazing intensity of your own, Sending flames to burn, Down to the small of my back. Fear is the armor I allow to fall, Tumbling to the ground, Cloaking myself in trust, As I allow my body to be, Touched by dominant hands, Trussed up by ropes and chains, To restrain to me. Willingly becoming prey, To the sweet, antagonizing caress, Before your hand aggressively strikes, My behind, Sending me into a realm, Of pleasure and pain, Morphing into one sensation. Free is the response I experience, As you bounds my wrists, With your tie, Pinning me down, Straddling my body. Placed between your thighs, With your heated lips, Conquering every inch of my body. The Sting of the flogger, Is a bite against the skin I crave, As silence is the language, I choose to speak, Feeling your fingertips claim me, As your territory to reign over, As you please. I yearn to satisfy the hunger, Starving to be your nourishment; For Sadism to feed, Upon masochism, As a balance of power is established, As we lose ourselves in fiery passion. Dominance and Submission, Forces meant to bond to the other, In a marriage of infliction and reception, Of blissful agony, Accepting the temptations you direct, Towards me as guide, To obtain our darkest of fantasies. Submission speaks out within, The silence as I give you, A proffered hand, Succumbing to the sensual dreams, You promise to me, Allowing you to possess me in any way, You wish in accordance to our terms. May you indulge upon my form, Like decadent candy you crave, To devour, Savoring every taste, Sound, smell, and touch, In this licentious dance between you, My Master, And me, your fervent lady, Of submission.
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82
Seventeen men standing on a shaft Of grey sunlight Seventeen men waiting for a draft Of black and white Seventeen men all proud and blind For the victory Seventeen men all loony in their mind Oh contradictory Seventeen men fervent on a march To their slow doom Seventeen men die, drop, and parch Not enough room Seventeen men are abandoned prostrate On the battlefield Seventeen men become slaves to their state All their hearts are sealed Seventeen men praised above the ground Lie breathlessly beneath Seventeen men glorified by the pound Their graves, their souls bequeath Seventeen men were in love with an idea and went to war Seventeen men died for a border and fought for a *****
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
Once Upon Seventeen Men
together paradise, nearby connection; distance vanishes, real-time embrace; coincidental timing, inarguable intersection; fated misfortune, mutual blessing; soothing aura, blissful homecoming; affectionate cradle, passionate possession; fervent assertion, warmly pursued; together forever, resurrected relation
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
finally reunited
So it is eighteen years, Helena, since we met! A season so endears, Nor you nor I forget The fresh young faces that once clove In that most fiery dawn of love. We wandered to and fro, Who knew not how to woo, Those eighteen years ago, Sweetheart, when I and you Exchanged high vows in heaven's sight That scarce survived a summer's night. What scourge smote from the stars What madness from the moon? That night we broke the bars Was quintessential June, When you and I beneath the trees Bartered our bold virginities. Eighteen -years, months, or hours? Time is a tyrant's toy! Eternal are the flowers! We are but girl and boy Yet -since love leapt as swift to-night As it had never left the light! For fiercer from the South Still flames your cruel hair, And Trojan Helen's mouth Still not so ripe and rare As Helena's -nor love nor youth So leaps with lust or thrills with truth. Helena, still we hold Flesh firmer, still we mix Black hair with hair as gold. Life has but served to fix Our hearts; love lingers on the tongue, And who loves once is always young. The stars are still the same; The changeful moon endures; Come without fear or shame, And draw my mouth to yours! Youth fails, however flesh be fain; Manhood and womanhood attain. Life is a string of pearls, And you the first I strung. You left -first flower of girls! - Life lyric on my tongue, An indefatigable dance, An inexhaustible romance! Blush of love's dawn, bright bud That bloomed for my delight, First blossom of my blood, Burn in that blood to-night! Helena, Helena, fiercely fresh, Your flesh flies fervent to my flesh. What sage can dare impugn Man's immortality? Our godhead swims, immune From death and destiny. Ignored the bubble in the flow Of love eighteen short years ago! Time -I embrace all time As my arm rings your waist. Space -you surpass, sublime, As, taking me, we taste Omnipotence, sense slaying sense, Soul slaying soul, omniscience.
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4.4k
Boo to Buddha
So it is eighteen years, Helena, since we met! A season so endears, Nor you nor I forget The fresh young faces that once clove In that most fiery dawn of love. We wandered to and fro, Who knew not how to woo, Those eighteen years ago, Sweetheart, when I and you Exchanged high vows in heaven's sight That scarce survived a summer's night. What scourge smote from the stars What madness from the moon? That night we broke the bars Was quintessential June, When you and I beneath the trees Bartered our bold virginities. Eighteen -years, months, or hours? Time is a tyrant's toy! Eternal are the flowers! We are but girl and boy Yet -since love leapt as swift to-night As it had never left the light! For fiercer from the South Still flames your cruel hair, And Trojan Helen's mouth Still not so ripe and rare As Helena's -nor love nor youth So leaps with lust or thrills with truth. Helena, still we hold Flesh firmer, still we mix Black hair with hair as gold. Life has but served to fix Our hearts; love lingers on the tongue, And who loves once is always young. The stars are still the same; The changeful moon endures; Come without fear or shame, And draw my mouth to yours! Youth fails, however flesh be fain; Manhood and womanhood attain. Life is a string of pearls, And you the first I strung. You left -first flower of girls! - Life lyric on my tongue, An indefatigable dance, An inexhaustible romance! Blush of love's dawn, bright bud That bloomed for my delight, First blossom of my blood, Burn in that blood to-night! Helena, Helena, fiercely fresh, Your flesh flies fervent to my flesh. What sage can dare impugn Man's immortality? Our godhead swims, immune From death and destiny. Ignored the bubble in the flow Of love eighteen short years ago! Time -I embrace all time As my arm rings your waist. Space -you surpass, sublime, As, taking me, we taste Omnipotence, sense slaying sense, Soul slaying soul, omniscience.
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66
If you're gonna be lonely, maybe learn how to cook. Parade the smoke to the rafters after doubting the book. Alert the parents in vowing the earnest salt in the brook. A fervent effort relays to bacon kisses you took. Brine is cheap, and on days like this find a Mrs. or friend, apply the bread crumb crisp. Buy the egg to allure. confide that "this might miss." If not to them to yourself. Try the odd light whip. Find a guide or a dozen. Fire doesn't necessarily deny the pleasant after math. Passable dishes levy comfort on cold nights, dying for treasure dancing in the lights, and forming function digging diamond from plastic wrap. "I could serve a candied berry pair it fairly cold below a lighter cream." See the finer things elaborate below the theme. Mise en place allowing, yolk to heat, folk wreaths are crowning. Found a leek to brown, found out what friends to feed can mean Be the barer taste your food silk confections social fruit Buck the system Find connection tuck the mood in ginger root get your list out pay it forward take the order grab a whisk make an impact Pleat the border break the silence wrap a gift
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Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 6:56 PM UTC
Kiss the Chef
gimme a hug, the only antidote to my lonely heart gimme a hug the true and effervescent manner of cometh see gimme a hug the way to everlasting love gimme a hug the fervent route to unblemish happiness gimme a hug and i'll forever engrave you on my mind
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Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
GIMME A HUG
you came to me in the first dewdrops of spring with the scent of newleaf lingering on your lips and the taste of fresh rosebuds and honeysuckle a mere whisper on my tongue your kiss the heat of summer sunlight blistering against my skin and ripping my throat open in a blaze of inferno heaven knows how you quell the flames with the same brush of lips against mine you dance forever in my mind’s eye on dappled autumn leaves with the swirl of the breeze tousling in your hair a symphony of red yellow brown and glittering eyes footsteps going crunch crunch crunch over the carpet of my heart your goodbye is the wind that whips through my eternal winter as the snow settles in the silent solstice i crave crave crave crave the fervent heat once more just once more REPEAT. cyclic cyclic cyclic as i fall in love with you all over again. (like the mist that rolls in with the first snow that tumbles like waves from the sky/like the budding of the flowers in the garden and the fallen petals beneath your soles/like the gradual melt of ice cream onto sticky fingers and stained flip-flops/like the green fading into a myriad of blossoming colour the facade of beauty disguising slow death) baby, you break my heart slow
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
season
Vibing; large hands, guiding her hips She's mounted, Straddled there, She's riding poised above— Her movements eager, fervent, Grinding; Against him, she presses with need, Finding pleasure in the rhythm they feed. With his fullness embraced between her thighs, They both seek their peak in each other's eyes. Colliding; Pleasuring herself, pleasuring him, In the depths of desire, together they swim. The satisfaction mirrored in her gaze Captures the essence of their shared blaze.
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Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 11:58 PM UTC
Feeding
Your beauty touches of a stars heavenly radiance For in your face is captured their celestial glow In blissful pools of endless starlight splashing And I alone my love will always deeply know The value of your beautifully enchanting eyes Which securely hold in bond my heart each day In a powerless confinement of cupids sweet adore Where my love easily grows in an abounding way For deep in my dreams I have always sought Your heart's love which daily endears my mind For it has always been my heart's fervent desire To of your sweet love belong an infinite time For to serve the daily needs of your lovely heart Each day leaves my face with an enthralling glow Knowing I will never have a single desire to depart Those beautifully enchanting eyes who love me so.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
Enchanting Eyes