"flirtations" poems
sunkissed skin and vibrant skies,
warm season has always been the same
but when i met those summer dazed eyes,
i knew that trouble just came
he had lips that kissed wetter than the ocean
he had arms like waves that swallowed me
he filled my summer with sweet temptations
a garden of flowers blooming within me
but just like how summer came to an end,
he left and autumn arrived with tears to shed
like how flowers no one comes to see
they slowly wilted in quiet misery
that summer was more than fifty shades of love
turned into an endless waves of bitter memories
just wishing upon the tangerine sky above
that tides will bring him back to me
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
Is there an order?
In there an approximation of pi
circling our first awkward flirtations?
Does a dragon curve lurk hidden as I
caress the curvature of your spine?
Where does Euclidean geometry fit in to the
first time our lips met?
Does the Pythagorean theorem detail our most intimate
love making?
A quadratic formula for the shameful
discarding of punched in picture frames?
Is there a golden ratio that best expresses
hurried apologies and frantic entanglements
between our sheets?
I know for certain there was
a simple subtraction
on the day your tears added up everything
and finally said goodbye.
Some would say there is order in this
chaos disguised as order disguised as
chaos
Continually debating pattern recognition
or butterfly effects
But I’d like to think
We were more subtle than that
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
I am a controlling boyfriend.
No, I am not a male, nor do I have a girlfriend to abuse. But I am the crazy stalker controlling boyfriend.
I have realized something in myself:
I am free with my boy and his casual flirtations, but am extremely jealous and possessive of my girls, when I have one.
Or even in my present case of not having one, I want to possess her as she has possessed me. I want all your time, all your thoughts, as you inhabit mine.
“How do you handle the jealousy??" It's funny, I don't get jealous when I have both partners in my bed, or in my arms. That is when I’m most content.
I get jealous when outsiders are flirtatious or show interest. It's also funny, I'm more annoyed when people flirt with him thinking he’s unattached.
I don't get it either; just a quirk of mine.
Perhaps my nonchalance with my boy is merely grown out of our time together. In nearly seven years, not one has managed to create a rift. Those who have tried have failed, and he and I have come out the better.
Patience is a virtue I do not possess, and the longer I go on incomplete... mayhap my own fears make me dig my claws into a new potential. Fear that someone else will charm such a rare unicorn away from me/us, and we’ll be left again, searching.
Nor is this a new feeling, for this young woman. A year ago, I felt the same overwhelming possessiveness. Then again, it would not do to compare the two; they are two different people, who hold different qualities.
The bitter jealousy I now project I have tasted before. The shock that I’ve become my own controlling high school boyfriend fills me with disgust.
Unbeknownst to her, I imagine her not only in my bed, in my arms, in my life… but also on my knee. I’ve never before considered someone as both lover and submissive.
Unbeknownst to me, would that make my jealousy grow or fade, were I to possess her in every way I’ve imagined?
Obviously I have some things to work on.
Firstly, finding our unicorn.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
Jade sauna
just over body temperature
to increase metabolism
smooth blood flow
and sweat out toxins
my hair is up
there are no lines on my pale smooth face
I'm happy and peaceful
I look so serene
and so skinny
"'scuse me you speak Russian?"
it's one of the cute foreigners
I've had my eye on
flirtations ensued
and it was nice
to be looked at
with fascination
with cute wonder
getting complimented
through broken english
as he ran his hands through his hair
smiling abashedly
trying to make sense of my words
as I did the same for his--
we were up all night talking
"no halloween in Russia,
but if had, you be Queen"
he knew nothing of me
just this peaceful calm side
that smiled and giggled
and carried a conversation
like a feather on the wind
he saw a girl he could smile at
and say
"you are very beautiful"
"you have lovely smile"
I'll never see him again in my life
but what a wonderful memory to have of someone
nothing but kind words
and laughter
and peace
serenity
a few of the things
I treasure most,
yes,
what a lovely memory
of Annex the smiling Russian boy
who drank tea with me
at the Jeju Spa
until the sun rose
and the lights came back on.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
Quite a picture of a happy woman ... in love ... or falling in love perhaps - two rows across me. Her earphones are plugged to her ears, but she is listening to no song. She is busy; typing messages - perhaps whatsapp!. Someone is teasing her ... must be quite adept at it. It has to be a boy ... not yet her boyfriend. Her smile ... her blushes ... are giving away the truths hidden in their secret flirtations.
She has to wrack her wits ... she must win this war of words. She purses her lips and her cheeks cave into a lovely dimple .... that flattered glitter in her eyes has enough for a novel to begin. She is determined to reply to this message and is scanning the lounge through the corner of her eyes as if we have a cue to offer. Her head tilts and a strand of hair falls across her temple curling in a single curve from her thick eye brows to her lips, presently secured between a thoughtful bite of her teeth.
The dimples are back again ... and her smile tells me that she finally has won this conversation ... and my mind tells me that while the war of words is her to win ... she has pleasurably lost the battle of hearts.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
Soft flirtations,
And obvious innuendos,
Gentle murmurs of empty sweet-nothings.
The rising excitement,
Perhaps a bit of nausea,
To see you.
I know quite well,
What will happen when,
My plane touches down in your state.
An odd anticipation.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Removing the little lace dress with its white hem I place it back on its chair.
The white hem radiates slightly enticing my naked boyhood once more
With its lusciousness, a savannah of continuous beautiful evocation
I sit naked and watch the little lace dress with its white hem
See it become languorous and dreamlike
I smell the exotic flora of its continued subtle seduction
It ripples softly in a slight waft of air
Like a breath blowing on a still pond
I cannot resist it, I am the trance of its hypnosis
Nothing intervenes, nor tries to prevent me
As my fingers fall for its flirtations
Once more I acquiesce to the most wanted desire
Of the little lace dress with the white hem
To caress the body of a fifteen year old boy
To become a second skin
I allow it to slide over me seducing my senses
Realizing the counters of my thin syrup coloured form
The words whisper again about my girls’ complexion
About my long black hair, about the body I inhabit, the likeness of a girl
I look once more in the mirror, they could be correct
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
Only now, with more power
I can own this
I can punish with flirtations that go nowhere
I can needle with demands that he can't meet
I can make him feel like he can do nothing right
Like he is forever a dissapointment and impotent in my eyes
Not always the victim now
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
New hire
Mentor acquired
Office chatter
Wine glasses clatter
Invigorating conversation
New contemplation
Uninhibited imaginations
Aggressive flirtations
Adamant objection
Withdrawn rejection
Impassioned surrender
Ecstatic splendor
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 2:20 PM UTC
*Firelight Affairs & Atmospheric Starlight,
Rainbow Instincts Enlightening Her Satellite Twilight,
Quivering Symphonies & Colorful Voices,
Lyrical Abstracts Of Her Monochrome Noises,
Prismatic Rage In Her Eternal Sage,
Resonances Whispering Her Voices Onstage,
Vertical Ensembles Of Her Ecstatic Fashions,
Witty Odes Enlightening Her Arrested Passions,
Prancing Temptations & Provoked Mysteries,
Entrancing Her Artistic Waves & Surging Tapestries,
Storyteller Flares On A Perpetual Lease,
Intoxicated Mirrors Of Her Spiritual Release,
Lucid Memoirs & Condensed Revelations,
Inquisitive Glances Of Her Cupid Flirtations,
Crimson Armors & Her Reflective Scents,
Illustrious Serenity Embossed In Her Scenic Ascents,
Fluoresce Echoes & Her Scenic Prelude,
Coalesce Spotlights Guiding Her Summer Nudes.
- 01:24AM -*
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
As I sit and feel the warm sun,
as I bend and breathe,
as I hear the avion flirtations
throught the daffodil lament,
I absorb,
like a smiling sponge of incredible size,
like a leaf adrift on the ocean's breath.
I write,
like the searching ponder,
like the probing wonder.
I think,
like the white lotus sighs,
like the rolling hill-fog sunrise.
To explore, I dive, I climb, I lay.
To learn, I rest, I trip, I fumble.
To love, I touch, I kiss, I see.
To live, I do, I am, I be.
To write again,
Finally,
Brings
A flood.
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 10:57 PM UTC
✿⊰✲⊱✿
"No, My Lady," Ainhana chuckles.
Esshi flushes at Paul's smile.
"Okay, you need to stay away from my
handmaids from now on!" I point at Paul
who looks at me innocently.
"Why? I've done nothing wrong!" He says
dramatically. "You are just jealous."
My eye twitches slightly. "I'll let you keep that
delusion."
✿⊰✲⊱✿
I stick my tongue out at him and huff,
much to their amusement.
Paul chuckles. "Love you too!"
He walks up some of the steps, turns
and claps, gaining everyone's attention.
"Come everyone! Before the feast, we must
make our wishes before the Angel's Fountain."
He says as he leads the way to the inner
courtyard.
✿⊰✲⊱✿
"Keeping us company, Brandon?"
"Of course," he chuckles. "After all,
we need to shield Esshi from Paul's
flirtations before she literally dies
of embarassment."
"M-my Lord!" Esshi exclaims as
me and Ainhana giggle.
*'Time for Donna's great and
final surprise!'* I beam!
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
If it shames you,
If it shocks you,
If no one ever cared enough
To brave it through for you,
If that's not how it was done-
Then run.
Shirk responsibilities,
Hold on to old hostilities,
Ensure a future
For your daughter
Full of mistakes you've already made.
Do not grace her with faith,
Do not bestow your care upon her-
Let her think it was never there.
Cigarettes, alcohol,
Heartache, adolescence
Just ************ and
Regular flirtations and relationships-
Don't tell her to say no.
Just make sure she knows
They're unforgivable, all of them;
(Make sure she knows both shades that life can offer,
Raise her awareness of the wonderful choice
Between white and black.)
Fabricate the pretense that in this 21st century
She'll never come across them, not once.
Tell her that safe *** is not
Something she should know about
Because she will just not do it
Ever, period
And experimentation with substances and heck,
Even with people, are crimes
That only criminals commit.
And she will learn despite you.
And she will do things to spite you,
And one day, she'll grow old enough to hate you
And she won't care or feel the need
To explain her side of things
Because she will find happiness in her way
And she will have survived long enough
To have learned how to cut you from her heart.
And she won't even have to see you,
And the day will come
When you've become
Just a subject of her art.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
Endless whispers make way, layered beneath star-lit skies,
The sounds formed in blissful flirtations, as tiny secrets composed of love…
Like the apex of an overture, encompassed by a standing applause –
An ode to the dedication of a honed craft, melded in artistic perfection,
We are but fireflies dancing in the darkened fields of life…
Illuminating sparks of matter, stretching our wings t’wards the heavens,
Each flutter of our ascension striking a beautiful chord,
A precise note of enchanted color, displayed ‘cross grass covered earth –
It is in this place we understand our magnificence,
Molded by those colors and sounds of feelings…
It is in those moments we found our immortality,
Created by the hearts of hopeless romantics and starving artists –
Defined by the words found beyond omission…
As if casted in series, structured in sentences of diaries and journals,
We are now infinite, our sculpted myth and legend etched in timelessness,
Our love forever told of its immaculate beauty –
We are…
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
lips open like a
v s
e u
n
fly trap
with fox-face eyes
&
a smiles that
could paralyze
the toughest of men like flies
in a spider's w e b
Multi-armed and covered in
muscle
this goddess hides
her blood red
tongue behind flirtations and butterfly wing
eyelashes
her mating dance and hunting style are on in the
same
"you will fall in love with me, and i will destroy you"
she breathes out like the iron smoke from a dragon's throat as smooth as a lady in** silk**
the souls of a hundred boys form stars and constellations
in the night-sky blanket she wraps herself in
when
nights get too
c
o
l
d and lonely
a hundred hearts rest in her throat
but she swallows them -- and laughs--
and holds my hand on swingsets
she is a goddess of a different sort--
belly swollen with the compliments and awe of a thousand potential lovers
they should make room for her in the heavens
somewhere between Cetus and Vulpecula
but there is no place for her there
because she has already eaten zeus
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC
God help us, Imamu—stop playing the fool
as you babble unhinged in your kente hat.
Bebopping Mao is so very uncool;
what up wit dat ?
Flirtations with Castro (Fidel to the faithful)
and free Cuba Libres imbibed with the Beats
inflamed discontent when your verses turned wrathful
in the streets.
Predictable tirades where Whitey’s the foe,
attacking your hosts like an Afro/eccentric
gets old. It’s a stagnant unmusical show:
dull dialectic.
Who knows why the liberals that bankroll you love it?
Who cares what your most recent pseudonym is?
You old and you mad cause’ you can’t rise above it,
mired in the shizz.
Your lines are pure mannitol: dumbed-down *******
(The blow on the head by that riot-cop lingers!)
The syntax is whack in your ghetto refrain.
Snap fingers . . .
Still you wait for your war—or the Black Star-Liner . . .
Your rage was your royalty, paid in white money.
Your verse sought to give the right wing a dark shiner—
it’s not funny.
Insulting, belittling others more noble;
your legacy leaves nothing hopeful or witty
Just putrid black waters, the flow uncontrollable
under the city.
Inside of your Kabaa are yet many idols.
Your New Ark of verse did not save from the flood.
You mau-mau and bludgeon with words all your rivals
but draw no blood.
Lighten up, wise Imamu. Your age is soon closing.
You wrote for the stage and said some of it well.
But your verse has gone rotten and yields, decomposing,
a nasty smell.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
So... I'm the open minded girl who speaks her mind and is hated because she has no filter. So here's what happened: Me, being me, walks up to this random guy i find vary cute and tell him. Now, two weeks later he starts talking to me. We both just sit with one friend by the library; Me with my best friend on the east side of the wall and him and his, i'm assuming, best friend on the west and the two just sit and watch me and my friend talk and laugh and fool around. And I really like him, on the occasions we have talked i have grown to like him but we are a grade apart, he is a sophomore and i'm A freshman (but i was held back) and i have aerobics the same hour he has gym and we pass each other in the hallways and he has this really cute flirtations he only uses when he smiles at me. I am rambling on like an idiot but i don't care, i want to get this off my chest. all im saying is i don't know if he likes me or is trying to be polite, I'm so confused!!! when i found out his name, it was sean
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
If only a little eye of newt,
or mandrake root, or hemlock bark,
could turn these loathsome suitors
into lovers handsome, tall and dark.
They paste their unappealing photos
next to profiles trite and silly,
and send flirtations cut-and-pasted
into the ether willy-nilly.
Don’t you know my time you’ve wasted?
I have no interest in your wooing.
Instead of listing your opinions
there are things you should be doing:
Learn to listen, read more books,
lose 15 lbs and use some manners.
Answer emails, learn to cook,
travel widely, study language.
Say what you mean, do what you say,
you’ll find a date without delay.
I haven’t found the witches’ brew
that will turn boys into men.
'Til then with dating I am through,
and bitter missives I will pen.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
When I found out
about your little game.
I laughed.
First in anger,
then in spite.
It was so very petty after all.
Your big persona
clothed in a bespangled mantle
of hypocrisy and loyalty
came apart
just like you did
when things began to crack.
Your hands
capable of spinning rifles
and commanding cadets
failed to handle me
in all my complexities.
I do not fault you for that
after all it takes a strong man
to be with a strong woman
but i do fault you
for the veiled hypocrisy
you showed at every turn.
You questioned my loyalty
insinuated at flirtations
flaunted your jealousy
Yet behind my back
all the while
showed honeyed intentions
to the girls in your tracks.
You gave me up
like an unhousebroken puppy,
that had bitten
your tremendous ego.
Citing your love for me
and your good intentions
while all you wished for
was to roam free.
When I figured out your little game
I laughed
first in anger,
then in spite.
But now,
when I think of your game,
I do neither
because the games of small men
no longer interest me,
and neither do you.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
.
Changing her disguise,
lover in liquid lapis,
**** wearing turquoise,
blending serene, frozen,
collecting flirtations,
in green emeralds,
feeding on innocence,
emotion camouflaged,
sacrificed phrases melting,
****** hot tears, crimson,
return to the silence,
and decriminalise sentiment.
© Pagan Paul (2016)
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
Facile flirtations
Sighs and sorrows
The depth of brevity
Sonorously sinking
Rising slowly
Washed by the rain
Drifting
The swollen ocean
Rolling, pounding
An avalanche of sound
Cascading, sublimating.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
How peculiar is it
that which tempts me lies in icy blue panther-like orbs
-the clearest deepest purest brightest blue I’ve yet to come across-
and words that dance like 18th-century aristocrats
-balancing baubles and gaud on their faux hair
waltzing and marching in highly practiced steps about an opulently furnished and lit facility with glistening fountains and marble floors echoing flirtations and strings and heels and sneezes into embroidered handkerchiefs-
and how desire has strayed from maintained eye contact and prolonged gentle kisses and subtle smirks of amusement
-bordering on genuine happiness-
and I’m sure
that even if you were to sweep in again
declaring poetry and romance with roses in your hand and one between your teeth
-glittering with all the fantasy an idealistic Me would have swooned for and adored-
or even if you were to creep in again
confessing exploration and emotion with wildflowers pressed in a book filled with soul-searching entries and personal revelations
-glowing subtly with the authenticity all secretly wish to find even a shadow of-
I wouldn’t want any of that now:
I’m drawn to that which dies quickly
but while alive is full of life—
love has been tabled for a much later day.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
My stomach rumbles because I am hungry for your words
It's been over a week since we've spoken,
and I feel as though I haven't eaten in weeks
I drool at the memory of your words,
your sweet imagery of kindess,
the spicy, tangy taste in your flirtations
I can feel the cool, soft texture of your words on my tongue
Memories flood in,
of an empty stomach, a full plate
I would often ***** up words,
unsure of what to say
They didn't know I did the same to my food
Two different pangs of hunger,
but both cause a similar pain
I'll just fight off the starvation
By the time you get back,
I'll have withered away into nothing
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
-*If I were ***** who would I choose?*
The lovely Edmund treated her kind
Indeed, kind he was in her mind
He was protective of her
His words were of comfort
She doted on him so much
That seeing him with another depressed her
The charming Henry grew fond of her
On her gentleness and modesty he dwelled
In her modest and elegant manners, he found charm
There was a sweetness to her which felt warm
And Henry was seduced by such gentleness
He found her timidity so delightful
That for her, he harboured feelings so soon
Yet in Fanny’s innocent eyes
Crawford’s flirtations led to his own demise
Not indifferent to what seemed to be sincere efforts
He forcing his love on her however proved just worse
She was too much convinced of his pretence
In his endeavour, she found not grace but nonsense
His unsteadiness
Her ineffable kindness
They were too much different
On such belief, she wouldn’t be bent
On the other hand
There stood Edmund, oh dear Edmund
He cared about her so deeply
But his attachment was merely brotherly
Knowing such truth saddened her immensely
Yet she’d rather be with him as a sister
Than not be with him at all
He was too virtuous to be deceived
The goodness of her heart dictated to choose none
Poor Edmund was blinded by Mary’s doings
As calculated as they were, they promised sufferings
Edmund could think of no woman but Mary to be his wife
His idea of her was exceedingly flattering; what a plight
A hurt ***** could not change his mind
Her unwavering support never left his side
And the proud Henry Crawford
What to say of his ardent courtship?
At some point, vulnerable ***** could fall for him
But she never did, not even once
He changed for her in manners and words
But to defy one’s true nature would be to lie to oneself
Temptations so strong
In the presence of an interested Mrs Rushworth
Needless to say; his true colours showed, infidelity ensued
In the end, who to choose?
If I were in Fanny’s shoes
It certainly wouldn’t be Henry
Such a **** doesn’t deserve a pure soul like *****
Though I don’t doubt that he truly fell for her
He ruined all chances of being with her
His incessant words of love were received with pain
He tried to win her affection in vain
But to try to gain a girl’s heart with flowery talks
This is an unwise move, it is too much
Thank God, Edmund realised his error in the end
But can he redeem himself when he showed so poor a judgement?
I doubt so; and I dare question his change of heart
His infatuation for Mary faded, and his love for ***** grew so fast
Does it even make sense to have one’s eyes opened that fast?
I dare answer in the negative
This said, none of them deserve *****
If I were ***** I’d choose none...
-15/05/10
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 7:11 AM UTC
Soft Spoken Deals
A Rough Caress
and No Common Sense
Lead me to you
Cheap Whiskey
Inexperience
Flirtations
Made it come true
for one night
Hours pass by
fogged up windows
backseats
reeks of regret
Lost Innocence.
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 3:12 AM UTC