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"flaming" poems
I still pine        for what I’ve lost                the promise and                                fulfillment. I still search my memory                 for hidden fragments                                  of that treasure.      Time has covered                 some of them in                             shadows of nostalgia.      But the flaming pain                         still brightly burns and                                       tears will not extinguish it.                 ljm
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Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 11:00 AM UTC
SEARCH & RESCUE
Come to a garden of roses with me, Serene it is fuller with roses to see, They are here, For you & me, But just to see. We shall not try to pluck any roses, For the thorns dissuade any poses, They are here, For you & me, But just to see. We can't sit guarding the flowers, Very busy in our mini lives we're, They are here, For you & me, But just to see. *I'll set-up a flaming ring of fire, Seeking fine protection for them, They are here, For you & me, But just to see.* Let's care for the roses as if our, As if our little & young children, They are here, For you & me, But just to see. To help us get them blue & red, Give them all suitable nutrition, They are here, For you & me, But just to see. Their presence is eye-pleasing, We let them be in our garden, They are here, For you & me, But just to see.
0
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
Ring of Fire|Garden of Roses
# 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."* #
0
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
love...................................lust (act II)
# 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."* #
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107
mining till day In bajan we must and bacca we trust never going to brake bedrock enchanting diamond sword crafting table rpmx13 asfjerome flaming arrows traping in cobwebs
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
minecraft
I have been to where the lonely go, and I’ve seen their luring towers, A call to the hopeless, to those who come from far away to see if coming was a mistake. Will we ever know who doesn’t go? and what of those that go but remain unknown? Perhaps they go at night. The horror of it. To not be able to see the end but still it comes and quickly. A silent floating moment in a winter of regret, a springtime of longing, a summer of sunshine, Or a fall to the end of the world in 7 seconds. A super cosmic collider of meticulous destruction. Whether they stay or go its all the same, multi-layered levels of brokenness, no one is immune. No one is immune. Some spend time putting things back together, the spacing between levels allows it. Others break over and over and over again, not enough space for repair while the pull of the towers, the flaming red towers and the fog rolling down from the west promise silence. When I stood at the edge and looked over, the noise was deafening. The ones without space cannot hear.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
San Francisco
Here in the morning gloaming burning my skin flaming as I imagine red kisses from smouldering lips! How easily in anticipation you make me whimper before with pleasure making me simper - each kiss another hot coal placed on my rawness with searing softness.
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Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
Hot Kisses.
She speaks in clouds, her curves drink lost words. Her dress entrances. This marketplace so full of colour, many fragrances merge. I watch her dance with gypsy jazz tones. Olive skin and dark hair. She beckons me forth, to a flaming beauty. With her clouds I merge.
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Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
Bohemian girl
Feelings, the treasure of ones heart, A flame, cast ablaze by the purity of righteousness, warm alike sunlight, yet not as burning or uncomfortably hot if exposed too long, As embracing, as a motherly tugging hug, full of love and dearness, It feels so gentle, like a soft breeze, sweetly touching the blossoming petals, after a soft rain pours water over their delicate, little bodies, So warm, as if enlightment were close to reach beyond the border of consciousness, growing strong and happy, alike a peach tree, Celestial is what it tastes like, sweeping over my transience in awe, It is but an emotion, which would soften a stone hard heart and make it alike cotton and wonderfully sweet as candy from amongst heaven, Inner peace, served on a golden plate behind a courtain of sunlight, describing the greatest pleasure,your drink and thankfulness for what you have, without greed, the desire to have more, despising violence, And even though humans will keep on living, such whilst being in a wretched, poor state, destined to fight on and hope for the better, Living, is what I find very beautiful. ~ Umi
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
Flaming Soul
he once said to me...                  *“I would blow warm                          moist breath through                                           your toes...                            I would do all the                   wonderful things                 to your big toes                   that you do to me.                       And most certainly                          all the tension would                                drain onto me...                                I would draw                                 every last drop                                from your toes                           with little messages                          along the way of my                       charted course                          to come up                       your inner channels.         Resting in the sensitive eddies         behind your knees   we both breathe fire     wafting up and down                          your thighs.”* .... like drips of seduction off his tongue. And he lingered on, saying...                    *“Flaming lips wafting              together with desire,        reaching and pulling           with firey licks.        As I slide    my wet tongue     on up and hover,            breathing                      you in                            deeply...                            through my nostrils                          filling my *** senses.                        Drunk on your fumes,                 I'm consumed.            Circling the tip        of my nose    around your hard,    pearly knot        feeling the heat              from your butterfly wings             my parted lips surounding           and easing the warmth      of my soul onto you with wet hot breath.    And I ease the length           of my tongue to rest       completely over     your fire breathing wings ,                warm capable and ready..                    leaving you in suspense.                       Sliding ever so slightly                            and slowly up your                                     slick silky lips,                      tightening the tip                    of my tongue -                       flick flick                              flick flick...              And I look deeply            into your eyes,                   into depths                     you've never known.                        And then I'll take you                         all in, with a suction                            you'll never escape                              or ever want to.       Never breaking eye contact my tongue slides from bottom         and presses, emphasis          at the top slowly         over and over             settling you in.                 We fall into                    a oneness                         and find                           our groove.”* And I said... ** *“I wish I wasn't still irritated with you so I could fully enjoy your seduction.”* **
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Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
he Once Said
he once said to me...                  *“I would blow warm                          moist breath through                                           your toes...                            I would do all the                   wonderful things                 to your big toes                   that you do to me.                       And most certainly                          all the tension would                                drain onto me...                                I would draw                                 every last drop                                from your toes                           with little messages                          along the way of my                       charted course                          to come up                       your inner channels.         Resting in the sensitive eddies         behind your knees   we both breathe fire     wafting up and down                          your thighs.”* .... like drips of seduction off his tongue. And he lingered on, saying...                    *“Flaming lips wafting              together with desire,        reaching and pulling           with firey licks.        As I slide    my wet tongue     on up and hover,            breathing                      you in                            deeply...                            through my nostrils                          filling my *** senses.                        Drunk on your fumes,                 I'm consumed.            Circling the tip        of my nose    around your hard,    pearly knot        feeling the heat              from your butterfly wings             my parted lips surounding           and easing the warmth      of my soul onto you with wet hot breath.    And I ease the length           of my tongue to rest       completely over     your fire breathing wings ,                warm capable and ready..                    leaving you in suspense.                       Sliding ever so slightly                            and slowly up your                                     slick silky lips,                      tightening the tip                    of my tongue -                       flick flick                              flick flick...              And I look deeply            into your eyes,                   into depths                     you've never known.                        And then I'll take you                         all in, with a suction                            you'll never escape                              or ever want to.       Never breaking eye contact my tongue slides from bottom         and presses, emphasis          at the top slowly         over and over             settling you in.                 We fall into                    a oneness                         and find                           our groove.”* And I said... ** *“I wish I wasn't still irritated with you so I could fully enjoy your seduction.”* **
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When the night wind makes the pine trees creak And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky, Go out my child, go out and seek Your soul: The Eternal I. For all the grasses rustling at your feet And every flaming star that glitters high Above you, close up and meet In you: The Eternal I. Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow And silent, comprehending all, and by and by Your soul, the Universe, will know Itself: the Eternal I.
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
THE OLD WISDOM ( By Jane Goodall)
born in illusory chains gnarled metal encrusted in my broken skin the copper colored dust of rusted steel infectiously envelopes shaving off antiquated layers of fundamentalist religion encrusted for generations unpeeled until raw an unsophisticated method unveiling ancient lodged glass shards colored with deceit brought before their court interrogated unfathomably skewered an eerie salem witch trial in modern times barbarically they shun me banished i wander aimlessly smelling the rotten decay of deceased community as splinters pierce my feet from the crooked wooden plank i walk alone now an unfathomable inner ache kindled a residue within igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows uncontainably erupting i dance savagely naked in the orange moonlight and in every shaded edge lit my soul ablaze i am a nomad sheep ‘tho not one of their color no pasture to contain me no shepherd i can follow theological safety nets no longer there to catch me bohemian-like i plunge free falling plummeting stripped wide open magically fearlessness reverses gravitation floating untethered i soar amongst apricot tinged clouds my skin still wet from rebirth and rise with the flaming coral sun you cannot destroy me i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener and with fresh mettle cut through the chains that bound you can have my ego but you cannot have my soul dismantling domestication transcending limitation wildly untamed i fly ©2016janetaylor
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
fly
You were once the greatest thing that ever happened to me and now you are just thrown in the back of my mind. Now you're just scattered memories. I was always afraid of changing. I was never made to do this because my life revolved around you. But life does keep going. As you decide to jump off this runaway train, leaving me in the dust left to rust. Leaving these grounds to become a beautiful flaming light in the darkness. Every night I would look into the sky and talk to you, telling you that life does keep going on but it's making me sick, love. But in the morning I will awake and rise from the ground not knowing how to walk properly again. But I'll find enough strength to walk to your resting place and find peace in it and slow down in this race. But I gave you all I had and now I have nothing left to hold I took all my love and spread it across your wild footprints and grave, like ashes, to let it sink down into you once again. We all get older. We all lose things. Life doesn't stop and I have never felt more alone, but time continues and the days go on. But not a day goes by that I forget you because I never dreamed of meeting someone like you, but now you're just a memory in the back of my mind. Oh, the tragedy I have seen, leaving my eyes burnt out. "Please don't be dead." I repeat countless times to your stone, to the sky, to the heavenly stars that shine so bright leaving the darkness in the pity shadows. "Do this for me please." "Just one more miracle."
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Life Goes On
You were once the greatest thing that ever happened to me and now you are just thrown in the back of my mind. Now you're just scattered memories. I was always afraid of changing. I was never made to do this because my life revolved around you. But life does keep going. As you decide to jump off this runaway train, leaving me in the dust left to rust. Leaving these grounds to become a beautiful flaming light in the darkness. Every night I would look into the sky and talk to you, telling you that life does keep going on but it's making me sick, love. But in the morning I will awake and rise from the ground not knowing how to walk properly again. But I'll find enough strength to walk to your resting place and find peace in it and slow down in this race. But I gave you all I had and now I have nothing left to hold I took all my love and spread it across your wild footprints and grave, like ashes, to let it sink down into you once again. We all get older. We all lose things. Life doesn't stop and I have never felt more alone, but time continues and the days go on. But not a day goes by that I forget you because I never dreamed of meeting someone like you, but now you're just a memory in the back of my mind. Oh, the tragedy I have seen, leaving my eyes burnt out. "Please don't be dead." I repeat countless times to your stone, to the sky, to the heavenly stars that shine so bright leaving the darkness in the pity shadows. "Do this for me please." "Just one more miracle."
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A graceful water weaving dolphin swirls wakes of gentle waves - a white, silver blue phantom shimmering in the noonday sun. Piercing the surface, she dances an aquatic ballet of corkscrew pirouettes and majestic somersaults. Diving beneath the spray she churns her engine upward - soaring through the flaming hoop to the "oohs" and applause of a throng of short-sleeved hominids bleachered beyond the rails. Plunging into quiet depths, she lingers for a moment perhaps to recall the fresh sea air and the borderless waters in the golden days before the ships came. January, 2007
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Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
Dolphin Ballet
Winter sunrise on my last and longest day, wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud let me rest in heaven fire drown my tired soul in colour drinking the final carnival warmth for my bones, a funeral of skies and wonders
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Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 3:30 AM UTC
Final Poem For An Old Friend
Kiss me, hold me, feel me, feel it... This intense throbbing aching lust of love. Am I too alluring? Can you feel me inside of you? ******* you relentlessly. How hard are you? Is your mind awake? Can you feel a hole being drilled through it? Am I passionate? Am I seducing you to these pleasures that you cannot resist? Irresistible, faint to the touch. To satisfy, you cannot resist the urge. It's pushing through every promise and memory you've ever had. I'm not like the others... You've loved, you've ****** But have you had your earth shaken like a magnitude of an explosive volcano that boils to the top. A flaming ridden peak of desire that never burns out. It's aching.... you're about to explode. Don't, feel it linger instead ...... Are you breathing heavy? Are you shaking, I swear you have never met someone like me before. Call me baby... Papi... Don't love me too hard, I might just leave. Ssssshhh.... It's just a mind ****
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Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 11:01 AM UTC
Seductive Enchantress
Excuse me, sir, your pants are on fire. Yes, i am talking to you, sir. This is quite a mess you have made, you starry-eyed dreamer. Not that it was perfect in the beginning. Nothing is. When my grandfather got old, he made sure to dress well. If he was to die on any given day, he intended to do it in his Sunday best. My grandfather died in a unisex hospital gown. When i was growing up, Mom always made sure i wore clean underwear. It would be shameful to die in ***** ones. Speaking of growing up, i was raised on Reaganomics. It doesn't matter which side of the aisle you stand on these days, because Reagan defeated communism through the clever use of money. When my grandmother was set to pass, she faced the changing seasons with poise and dignity.  She was ready to move on, to reunite with loved ones lost. My grandmother died in a unisex hospital gown. My best friend, Peter, didn't put much stock in appearances. He was funny and sarcastic. We all loved him like a brother.  Peter's mom buried him in brand new Ecko gear.  He died in boxer shorts on the floor of a ramshackle apartment blue in the face from a ****** overdose. Thank god none of these people will ever need healthcare. Mr. President, sir, i am no Republican. i am an American. You do remember us, don't you? How silly of me...of course you don't. You were busy watching your legacy. i would have watched it better, if it had been my name at risk. My name is all i have. When Bill Clinton was president, he lied about getting a ******* But we forgave him. It was just a ******* It's not like it was our privacy or healthcare at stake. Or our economy. Have you dreamed about any of those things, sir? Or just your legacy? Who knows? How well do we ever know anyone? Christmas is right around the corner, and i and others have made you a fine gift, a lovely suit. It's invisible. You probably won't notice. No matter... one day you will have to remove your flaming pants. To try on your new suit. Or, god forbid, to put on a unisex hospital gown. And then you will finally see your legacy.
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Dear Mr. President
Excuse me, sir, your pants are on fire. Yes, i am talking to you, sir. This is quite a mess you have made, you starry-eyed dreamer. Not that it was perfect in the beginning. Nothing is. When my grandfather got old, he made sure to dress well. If he was to die on any given day, he intended to do it in his Sunday best. My grandfather died in a unisex hospital gown. When i was growing up, Mom always made sure i wore clean underwear. It would be shameful to die in ***** ones. Speaking of growing up, i was raised on Reaganomics. It doesn't matter which side of the aisle you stand on these days, because Reagan defeated communism through the clever use of money. When my grandmother was set to pass, she faced the changing seasons with poise and dignity.  She was ready to move on, to reunite with loved ones lost. My grandmother died in a unisex hospital gown. My best friend, Peter, didn't put much stock in appearances. He was funny and sarcastic. We all loved him like a brother.  Peter's mom buried him in brand new Ecko gear.  He died in boxer shorts on the floor of a ramshackle apartment blue in the face from a ****** overdose. Thank god none of these people will ever need healthcare. Mr. President, sir, i am no Republican. i am an American. You do remember us, don't you? How silly of me...of course you don't. You were busy watching your legacy. i would have watched it better, if it had been my name at risk. My name is all i have. When Bill Clinton was president, he lied about getting a ******* But we forgave him. It was just a ******* It's not like it was our privacy or healthcare at stake. Or our economy. Have you dreamed about any of those things, sir? Or just your legacy? Who knows? How well do we ever know anyone? Christmas is right around the corner, and i and others have made you a fine gift, a lovely suit. It's invisible. You probably won't notice. No matter... one day you will have to remove your flaming pants. To try on your new suit. Or, god forbid, to put on a unisex hospital gown. And then you will finally see your legacy.
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Terrorism, **** Car bomb, ********** She feels vulnerable, No love to keep her warm 9/11, kidnap, Human trafficking... She’s been forgotten, Left alone in the dark Serial killers, H1N1, Child molesters, *** She shudders with the cold, And Port Au Prince is flattened Hijack, ****** Drive-by shootings... She feels groggy, Influenza sets in Weapons of mass destruction, Cuban nuclear tests... There starts a tingle in her nose, Her eyes pinch shut Genocide, organs on the black market, Xenophobia, suicide bombers... With a bellow from her bowels, From flaming ice the cumulus anvil that infects the world
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
The day the earth sneezed
Gemini's delightful. Cancer is polite. Leo is romantic. Virgo's quite bright. Libra is creative. Scorpio, tenacious. Sagittarius, festive. Capricorn, vivacious. Aquarius is witty. Pisces, prolific. Aries is charming. Taurus, terrific. ----------*--------- Taurus is quite stubborn. Aries, a frightful ***** Pisces, a flaming cheapskate. Aquarius is mostly crude. Capricorn's nasty and spiteful. Sagittarius, shallow and weak. Scorpio's flagrantly flighty. Libra, annoying and meek. Virgo's simply pompous. Leo, clearly deranged. Cancer, always impossible. Gemini, downright strange. *
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
* Astro.Schizo *
Sara L Russell, 23rd October 2014, 01:01 She was sunlight and cinnamon; all wide eyes, auburn hair, fair complexion freckles and fleeting laughter. She was an enigma to her friends, a golden girl to her parents… Dappled sunlight turned her into fragments of an autumn impressionist panting; all her reds, golds and peach tones wildly blazing, vividly flaming in a sunset's haze. She could make people laugh with a dry turn of phrase. She could silence a room just by walking in through the door. She could silence cruel words with a withering look. She was going to be somebody; the world was going to know her name, the future was forever - until he caught her, used her, left her under autumn leaves in a ditch by the roadside; and he became somebody and she became the face of the girl killed by him. Hollywood made a thriller about him and his crime; and her mother made an album of photos of her; and the local paper published her brief obituary.
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Sunlight and Cinnamon
Flamingo high, flamingo low, when flamingo stretchy-leggy, then flamingo grow. Cheeky beaking, shifty sifting, lifting up a flipper; notty neck and naughty pecks, while dancing with a kipper. Flaming heck and flaming Oh! Flaming flamingularonimo! I tango and flamenco and I imitate a swan, but this winking pink flamingo's blinking going going gone.
0
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 11:28 AM UTC
Flamingoing
She arrived mysteriously when the clock struck midnight on my dark rooftop. I turned and only her eyes glowed, they were inviting. I felt a seductive curiosity that compelled me to move towards her. The moonlight exposed her beautiful curse. She had black long hair like a black cats fur, red lips like they had been soaked in blood, and pale skin like that of a person who had seen a ghost. She said, "My name is Callidora, I will grant you immortality in exchange for your soul.” I shook in fear but her eyes said she could show me the world, what I desired the most. So I let her kiss me and lean toward my neck and bite me. We were flying in the cold dead air, taken from the living into something rare. My flaming soul in her heart now, my body reborn by her ****** saving kiss. She granted me the true gift of eternal life, a second chance that came at a price. I let her **** me for love because I wanted eternity with her.
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Vampira
implosions are for starfish and our mission is clear. we have nowhere to be from and that's half the battle. we are seldom unbridled in the chastity of our carnal bluff... and our cages are breathing. we are finally designing our most daring Inertia. both mum on the details in the devil's flotsam. we jot some of the names of the nameless... on the outside of Dixie cups. like mint julep promise to a tangerine honest. again and again, we ache through the breeze of our soothing traumas. we court the verity of a sham. we blast through the congregation of our adversary, snipping varmints from a stale camp in the southernmost of our due south,; where they fear the bonfire until a vagrant maps the flaming tongues to a long kiss.... and we crash upon the shore of Never Asked. but regret This.
0
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
implosions are for starfish
I give love love love with the one look of my eye eye eye I excite your lament ion charge it high up high uuuuu potentially ready a ***** cation I am your aesthetic flaming electric activate your kinetic stop the resistence now don’t drop voltage difference I create is continually asymptotic I am the variation in your magnetic I am the field of your *** ethic if you not behave I become your inelastic scatter geomagnetic storm high potential chemical desire mechanical fire radioactive disaster through your interior I roar blast break silence the rocks shake the lights reverberate in your head I give love love love with the one look of my eye eye eye I excite your lament ion I am your voltaic lion
0
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
Voltaic Lion
Chekhov and Murakami came to me in short spurts of memory; as if the life of a keyboard was a retro invention sinking the ancient sea bona fidelis. Temper Fidelis and sorry larks wish upon the galoshes you wore to repeated proms instigated in large moral distances between burning barns (it's a dangerous hobby). Starved for trapped frogs with claws and violence was a question answered in blood so two wrongs made a state of nothingness free of wrong or right (***you nihilistic ***** she suggested a better drink to pick at Starbucks: 'a flaming frappucino at 140 degrees.' (what are you, some angry Russian aristocrat contemptuous of an English wife T-minus a decade ? )close-bracket) God is sick of two things: my continued and addicted references to Judaeo-Christianity and the dragged sympathy of humanity for his lost son ("it's been 2013 years for Chrissake") you melt on me like a strange evening spent with a stick of butter self improvement 46% complete
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
seminar (or, Chekhov and Murakami)
I am a monster of my own creation, yet Unnamed. I'm the doctor and the beast he wrought. My face is wan, and eyes sunken; Strong and capable, but fated for destruction. Come, wave your flaming rods and I'll run for the hills. Find me a cave where I can sit in a viscous black tar silence. Ears to knees pulsing from what adorns me These fears like trinkets, leaden filigree spell them out. But fear is an anxious heat and a flirt. I'm drawn into a seductive reunion with the chilled ground. If you're lonely you may visit and behold this undoing. "More weight!" I'll scream, until my bones are white ash and my organs are muddy puddles and I can, at last, declare I've accomplished something.
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
Monster