"finesse" poems
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.
Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.
The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.
They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.
They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.
When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
#
Each body part
sizzled in pure pleasure
in the blissed wake
of your oral efforts
brought forth the waves
of rapturous delight...
Spurs poetic inspiration
in equal liberation
of desires to please.
Bodies transpose
in fluid motion
as brazen eyes meet.
Savor the voluptuous image before you.
Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo
before they roll to the back of your head.
On all fours
knees between your thighs
tips of swollen breast
caress your chest
tasting fresh honey
upon lips in a kiss.
Ripples of ardor
hover
by wet trails
of sensual kisses
suckling towards
the apex.
Breathe in
the slow motion pace
that pulsates eagerness
to the fore tumescing bulge
leaking with anticipation
of viscous lava.
Tickles of silken hair
against flesh edges closer.
Emerging subtle grumbles
in deep resonance
betray your impatience .
Hands tightly twine
in tangled hair
to maneuver
the treasure hunt.
Licked lips pause
at the sight of fire
burning in
glazed gazes
before engulfing
the throbbing member.
Plump ruby lips
greet velvety texture
in a slow deep dive.
Tongue curls around
the flavor
in a dulcet embrace.
Moans release
as grip tightens
in my hair
settles the
rhythmic pace
to taste in an
oscillating dance.
The masculine aroma of heady musk
lingering there, arouses my appetite.
With my enthusiasm
attuned to
your preferred rhythm
suckling, slurping
surface and dive
in measured unison.
Break of breath
allows tongue
freedom to roam below,
licking, soft kissing
the tender hammock
of testicles.
Tongue and lips escalate higher
to mount another assaulting dive
deeper in the depths
of the cusp in cavity.
Wetted fingers
probe even lower
circling superficially
as gasp escapes
your heavy breath;
flaming eyes lock.
Finger dips in
with expert finesse
gorging hardened growth
within a wrapped hand.
Thighs tighten
with rocking grip.
Head thrusts onward,
drilling forward
in each dive.
Salvia slips
fingers grip
lips dip
Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity
of volcanic eruption ...
HALTS
assault
Pace retracts.
Loosened lips kiss tip.
*“Soon sweetheart, your time will ***
inside me as we surrender to synergy."*
#
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
I peel back your skin
then I press my tongue
against the folds of your flesh
juices flow endlessly into my mouth
your flavors my soul savors as I skillfully finesse
my tongue, fingers and teeth in the depths of your crevasse
immersed in your sweet nectar, the scent stains my breathe
with a scent that is so unique, I can't wait to taste the rest.
Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 12:34 PM UTC
We assignment felonies, who got no melody
It be a blessing to breathe but mans can't find the remedy.
School work got us incubated, well tubed in
Hospitalize for ages.
Penned in these cages
A constant grind on the daily.
Once a man emancipate
8 to 5 is gonna hit him with a straight.
From a frying pan to the fire
He's been stuck in a sticky state.
******* in a system that's meant for retire
That's what he gonna inspire.
Beware to those who tryna finesse the system
Life is gonna hit them with an intricate plot.
If you can't Euro-step them in quick time
It gonna be raps, just watch.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
i will have it all some day,
as my "it all" has nothing
to do with gilded halls &
shiny floors & iron doors
(anymore)
i am now concerned with
Better Things -- like
Love. and Order.
but oh, when i say i will have it,
& that i will have it all, i believe
myself!
more than i've believed
anything or anyone, ever at all.
when i say that; when i say
i will have it, & that i will have it
all, he looks at me strange...
his eyes light up in bright green flames
like a pretty man would
look at a silly, deranged
little doll. skeptical.
annoyed.
as if the world has already graced
my porcelain skin with enough lace for it to be a sin
he has no idea what it's like
to be a doll, at all; our pockets
are much too small and we are expected
to sit on shelves all day long .
he thinks that my all,
the "it all" of a doll,
is the "it all" of all....
a life of beauty and
wallpaper art,
of letting people dress you up
just to tear you apart.
he is.... jaded
by interrupted dreams,
and faded
by Jäger.
i have posed in his hands, to see his smile
i let him know
i want to know how he could move me
finesse me, brush my hair, confess to me.
not to then to lay me down, and forget me.
i am very familiar with the shelves of his soul.
he buttons his sleeves,
and goes on to his lunch affair;
his heart falls out when he jests/deflects.
he lets it lay there.
we are different kinds of hollow
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
Accuracy of your acrostic arrows,
Ride the wind with utmost ease.
Claiming each bulleye with poetic precision,
Hands steady, unswayed by the errant breeze.
Endowed with talent, unsurpassed finesse,
Regarded by peers as the wise-worded wiz.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
It's a dance
It really is
Skip and prance
Lifelong practice
Loop of songs
Never ending
Of various genres
Life is playing
There's the spotlight
World is awaiting
Pressure of eyes
Silently watching
Take your place
Assume your position
Execute with finesse
And flawless precision
Spin your pirouettes
Don't get dizzy
Maintain your poise
In this revelry
Along comes a partner
Present as a duo
The game now altered
From when you were solo
Two bodies now
Move in unison
Reciprocate and reply
Through steps made in heaven
Flighty feet
Intertwined bodies limbre
Sweet little performance
Elapsing into forever
With grace of ballet
Each other you'd catch
Intimate display
Think you've found your match
There'll come such time
Both will not be in sync
Episodes of missteps
Push you to the brink
Alone again
Or switch of partners
Find solace in groups
Still dancing for answers
Dancing with others
Much you can learn
From hip hop to the waltz
Together or in turn
Try to adapt
To different styles
Soak up all you can
May take a while
I've danced all my life
Can't say that I've mastered
Fair share of jeers
And accolades I've garnered
Always clumsy
Exceedingly awkward
Tripping and falling
Barely proceeding forward
It's just this dance
One with syncopated beats
It's just this prance
That my gait can't meet
It's just this stance
I often use as retreat
I realised in a glance
That I have...but
two left feet
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
So it came to pass at last and sad to know a Timber has fallen
It stood in strength tall and strong for over seven decades
Resplendently toned it spread an uncompromising foliage
Masterly in domain magical in reach attaining untold grades
Humble in origins yet grew with endeavour and knowledge
Distinguishably it cut sway in tundra and in lush green glades
Son of sons of the Land held roots countenancing no crawling
It reached for the stars and danced reasons with every shades
Ran with the sun and sat with owls and vipers for tutelage
Sweeping the very highs and the lows in communal trades
In the jungle of sharks and vipers it be known who's in Charge
A Timber has fallen while the rains falls and blue clouds fades
There's now a mighty hole in the earth and rivers are swollen
Leaves scatter and branches beckon hundreds of onward bridges
Leaving best Princess, flowers and saplings for love and largesse
A notable trunk laid supine free to roam without worldly cages
Odes will enter dancing in guises and tears flow without finesse
A Timber has fallen and dirges will ring out for a man of all ages
Yemessia bows and says Adieu My Senior, we will meet again.....
[email protected].
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
each seconds surrenders me speechless
praying for the process of progress
kissing, caressing, conspire in concision
affection and adoration an admirable ambition
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
beautiful belles becoming begrime
rendered ready by my written rhyme
won with wonderfully whispered wit
foment flattery in a fanatic fit
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
Sep 11, 2010
Sep 11, 2010 at 5:39 PM UTC
If I am kindling,
you must be the spark...
Much alive in the darkest dark,
lifting all shadows with
finesse and flair.
If I am flame,
you must be the air and wind...
Unfettered and free...
Cradling my infancy.
Only to nurture and inspire,
to groom flame to fire.
If I am faltering...
And almost extinguished,
you must be the hand...
Bearing the confidence and belief...
Awaiting the moment most opportune,
to align yourself in rhythm and tune.
So we could...
Continue to
burst forth into light.
So we could...
Resume our journey forth with might.
Let us be our own deterrent
from the darkness
that comes with morrow's set.
Hand in hand, we must...
Because together...
And only together,
we're...
incandescent.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
a bottle of scotch had bad dreams.
bullets twitch, junk sick
in 3 inch thick
mustard ****
toe nails clipped from yeti
lay strewn about the **** stained corpse
of a motel six dixie cup -
root canal trophy,
next to
a black fez
with scab tassel
upended.
down in it. belching apnea
propaganda
and belladonna
waiting for curious george
to find a shotgun
and a yellow
hat
and a brick banana.
blowflies inhale the rank damp
of a fresh ****
the odd dog whines
like a clown in -
a blender.
[ the ]
house wins
with a marked card; jabbing fat fingers
into acned rosacea
bloated with sleep lack
and mortgage
back stab
chasing twenty ******
with a hollow point
pull from an acid
flask
while hailing a black cab.
tinsel sutures
stitch eyelids as a mercy
shattered bone knit
hand-grenade
cozies
old glory, at half mast
half wasted
fifty stars, no light
dragging on
the grounds of immunity
to do a line
of coke stock
with a basset hounds'
finesse.
your taxes at work
in columbia,
hiding from a lost farm
in Idaho
your american dream
turning tricks in shanghai
for a counterfeit
egga roll
your meme, devoid
like an ice cube
tombstone
your freedom, parking cars
for italian escorts
smoking skin flutes
for ferraris
and white teeth.
your integrity, sold to a hedge fund
for astroglide and a pez dispenser
packed with prozac
pressed by ' Jose the butcher' s abuela
in a narco slum
that ain't seen radio
since cinder blocks
had wings.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
Life Coalesced
Envision the rest
Depressed or distressed
Worried less, I invest
May regress or finesse
Life's congruent mess
Mold your self, immaculate
Clear hate and evoke fate
Inspire, create and congratulate
Persevere when near,
Whilst you conquer fear
Happiness untamed
Dreams unattained
Mature and grow wise
In front of your eyes
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
O My Lord, greatly blessed are You!
I’m thankful and trying to express
the growing gratitude within my soul;
however, mere words lack the finesse
to exalt Your full grandeur… properly!
You are my sun and protective shield!
Let your righteousness flood my soul;
unto You alone, will my spirit yield.
Don’t let my ignorance and sad sighing
imply a lack of personal satisfaction;
I’m joyful and pleased from accepting-
Your Son’s, eternal gift of Salvation!
I’m humbled by Your grace and power;
Your wisdom defeats the inner violence
that seeks to isolate me from You;
quiet my thoughts with divine silence,
as I focus on our ongoing relationship.
Permit The Holy Spirit to blow over me
with a portion of Your sacred essence;
reveal the blessings that You foresee,
regarding my humbled heart and life;
make me sensitive to Your touch and will;
teach me to be productive with my time;
allow Your purpose for me- be fulfilled.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Phil 4:6; Psa 34, 84:10-12; 1 Thes 5:18
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
With all of your mind, can you imagine…
living a sacred and a victorious Life,
whereby you become more like The Christ?
With all of your heart, can you believe…
that you’re covered by His righteousness
and an embodiment of God’s poetic finesse?
With all of your might, can you achieve…
the desires that He has purposed for you?
Can you envision His promises coming true
when daring to imagine, believe and trust Him?
Only your lack of Faith- can hold you back;
pray continually to fend off ungodly attacks
of evil, that originate within the darkness
of this world; know that you still possess
Salvation and have been… permanently blessed!
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
1 John 5:4-5; 2 Cor 5:21; Rom 3:22, 6:23, 8:31-39;
Eph 2:8-10, 6:12; Isa 40:31; John 1:12; Prov 19:21
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
A precious hummingbird, left rhythmic sounds, in sweet soft notes
Playing music, light and heavenly, as I waved adios
Soaring freely, upon Springs gentle breeze
With finesse and ease
With iridescent feathers
Flamboyantly taking flight, in this lovely weather
Graciously gazing through
Surely, dazzling too
Quickly resting on tree branches, in attune
Fearlessly humming, in romantic tunes
Dancing smoothly
And elegantly
Modeling beautifully, in its fine long beak
Very entertaining and chic
And casually stopping in the center of a flower
Obtaining nectar, in the morning hour
Placing a grin on my face
While engaging in an impressive, cozy space
Instilling a fulfilling and pleasant day
And quite excited, it came my way
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
I have been reading genetics,
Even as a part of my course,
Apart from my dear hobby.
I have got this scientific temper,
Of course I got it all genetically,
From both mommy 'nd daddy.
Genetics define my autosomes,
Even my other chromosomes,
Which gave me my gender.
I am an Aryan-Dravidian born,
With a fantastic genetic base,
Variation is a genetic boon.
My father tells me to marry farther,
Continuing the ancient tradition,
A tradition that imparts finesse.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 1:45 AM UTC
I don't believe in fate nor in any kind of grand design,
Because if we got what we deserved then theres no way that you'd be mine.
So I won't call you a godsend nor compare you to an angel,
And though your absence burns I won't say that I'm in hell.
But when I close my eyes I see your face
and girl now my heart it starts to race
at rather an impressive pace
as I think of you in all your grace
I think this is another a case
where my heart is ever giving chase
as it beats out with infinite bass
at the thought of you all clad in lace.
But I'll admit that in your dress,
You display infinite finesse
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 5:49 AM UTC
Hypotonic collusions
Rising in osmotic lesions
An eruptive soul reversion
Emissions of embered logs
Each lightening with a glow
A youthful straw of clemency
Pollinated sandals, handled
Gripping the flesh in vessels
Houses of lost and unreal dreams
Vicarage gardens of suppression
Masticated in delegated abstractions
A surmise of death and redistributions
Each a beat rise, slide on frosty ice
Un-enveloped in seasons of erosion
Delusional commotions sprawled
In the dance of the ecstatic programming
The body waved and led in hypnosis
********** with the intangible essence
To make sense a revised tense,I fence
Straying in lenient lunacy to fields afar
A merry to ferry the phoenix dance
Rattles shaking in transit translations
Drums pause settling in finesse pond
A coitus of dimensional valour and vice
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
It wasn't tackled with a surgeon's finesse
But the battered brute of conviction.
I can still see the two man cross cut saw
Jammed deep in the bark - but a tickle.
A mail of thick branches disguised as
Dense fodder stood strong against waves.
Throwing everything at it - raining sawdust -
As the giggles were heard for miles around.
Now standing crippled, taunting as it sways -
The battle's won but the war will have its day.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
The finest of Spirits, that touched My Lips.
Was never that intoxicating.
Neither did their sweetness Eclipse,
the Magic your Kisses kept Creating.
No Melody I heard, was played that Fine.
To be Music to both My Ears.
Nor have Notes had those sadful Words.
The Way your Voice, bring out My Tears.
The finest Silk that touched My Skin,
was never that Tender, Smooth or Light.
They never wrapped Me with Finesse.
As your Arms do for Me every Night.
The World offered Me Diamonds and Gold
and Gifts as Pure as the Morning Dew.
But none of them caught My Eyes,
as My Eyes were set on U.
Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 9:52 AM UTC
Puro tiis.. nakakainis!
Mukha nyong manipis!
Pengeng hapinis.
Isinulat ko ng lapis,
problemadong labis.
aking ninanais,
sarap na walang kaparis!
utak ay napapanis,
sa katulad nilang balawis,
kinukulang ka't nagpapawis,
ngunit sa iba'y labis labis!
gagambang may katis,
de lata **** lumolojis!
utak ay nabobopis,
nah! pambihirang patis!!
mabuti nalang as is,
nandiyan ka lagi mis,
sa tingin **** nakaka-pris,
nakakawala ng inis :)
pakiramdam ay namimis,
kahit man lang isang daplis.
labi **** ninanais-nais,
parang gusto kitang ikis!
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 5:55 AM UTC
Is it just I who gets that anxious, squirming
Sensational feeling? Like creativity suppressed—
But by what? My faults? The fates? My own self
For I cannot convey how positively debilitating,
Paralyzing, transfixing—
I don’t want to live in subdued twilight,
Sedated by my own ideas of inabilities,
But who or what, or what in me
Can prevent even the faintest of hindrances
From annihilating the depth of my inspirational understanding…
I’m yet to discern any of the undetectable barriers
Or is it that—metaphysics?
So engrossed, preoccupied, wearied by what
The idea that there’s something
Anything at all, preventing the finesse
As here I cogitate
Dimensions past me...
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
When the sun first shows its beaming face,
at the break of a blissful new dawn.
Your birds that exult with elegant grace,
bid farewell to the night that's gone.
Your flowers ornate your vast lands,
of your priceless treasures they boast.
The besotting Kilimanjaro that stands,
dominating your east coast.
You are home to the best precious stones,
the land of gleaming clear waters.
Garnished with skills and strong bones,
you are served by your dutiful daughters.
The soil that expands on your gracious vest,
the equator that cuts your enormous chest,
birds that bear your golden crest,
are a few ideals of your daring zest.
The treasured soil that fills your vast expanse,
the gracious finesse in your every dance.
From Egypt, to South Africa, Nigeria to Kenya,
From the stupefying Sahara to the beatific Victoria.
I love you dear Africa, The land of the wild,
This poem is for you from your little child.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
You measure in
vast spaces that my memory fills
Revolving.
I take you where
you thought before you might
get left behind.
Instead
Our Love is
sly references
to Private Jokes and
how your eyes light up
as you twirl around inside
your favorite Polka Dot Dress.
Knowing
“That’s when I think you look your best.”
With Egyptian eyeliner
to illuminate the understatement.
Kudos.
Deserved,
after all you do accept
(Not without forgiving humour...)
A latent tendency in myself
to elongate an awkward silence
after committing whichever topical
and firmly established social faux pas
given the setting.
Not forgetting,
my oft lauded lack of a certain finesse
Establishes
around my name a peculiar sentiment
Windswept spiky hair and caught-out schoolboy face
Notwithstanding.
Perhaps,
“it’s clever not to deny the girl”
her entertainment.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
I didn't know you were a piano player.
This fact only came up while my palms burned
with anticipation as I reached out into the stillness,
searching for your hands. I found them beneath sheets
and cold promises, where the fingers were dancing
and the nails were scratching and you were looking to have a good time.
You're good at playing the blues.
A man by the name of Skye told me you knew all about snatching secrets
from the moon, and as I felt the scars and scratches along your callous, quick fingers, I knew this was true.
Your eyes never looked down at what you played, which is probably how they ended up this way: scarred and burned and stained a dark red. I
never found out why you liked to play music so dark that it did
nothing but leave bruises, ones you tried to wash away with
old wash cloths and chardonnay. Or why your nickname was *****
even though your mother named you Vivian. Or why you sold me those
tickets to that band you dreamed of seeing. Or why your hands started
shaking whenever you were near me. Or why I'm in love with your fingers,
and all the notes they've played and touched and stole.
I don't mind the fact that their skin is burdened with slices of depressed,
quiet peace, or the way your eyes turn blue even though they're supposed
to be green.
I can only hope in the wake of all these sad revelations, that your fingers will remain on those black and white keys, and tomorrow you'll still be playing.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC