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"godess" poems
Denim clad godess, smoke machine chariot. Your livelihood is my breath, Take me to your place of solace where I can feel the suns rays emanate from my chest.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
Motorcycle Gypsy
She let my hand lay in hers as she tapped it firm and rhythmal. I knew I needed this moment with her, but could not look her in the eyes. She started. You think you don't deserve true love. I smiled. I'm such a walk-around cliché. *You put on this act of *** godess because you feel that's the only way to get male attention.* Now I just sound like a ***** I'm not that weak. You think every man will leave. Boo-hoo, ******* bridget jones's diary Because he left you. That hit me. Suddenly I was crying. Not just tears, it was crying at its fiercest form. I was howling, every gram of pain dripped out of me. She held me. I felt clean. I repeated after her. Even though I'm afraid of being left alone again She kept tapping. I accept myself I looked at her and I love myself
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Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
The godmother
To be compared to a godess, a golden creature in a shining bodice. (Is this what girls want?) to be as fair as aphrodite, grace and beauty and lovers mighty. (and to be an adulterous back stabber!) to have athena's dilligence wisdom and intelligence. (and to be a moody cow who cow who cant take critiscm) or put hestia to shame, purity kindness a maiden without blame (a symbol of female submission) then may your wish come true and have all the blessings of a godess (most of you already have there curses)
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Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 8:14 AM UTC
Pantheon
On high and in whole looms a glimmering globe On a mountain of cloud, on her wintery throne Diana every man has known From there she casts her ashen glory Upon my buildings highest storey From there and paired with stars in tow She maps the routes and lights the roads Beyond black trees all sharp and blown Through feral fields for miles untold How she bridges their breadth without effort or labor How I envy pallid plains set all alight beneath her favor
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Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 9:20 PM UTC
Godess Envy
Skin so soft and creamy smooth I think it's time i make my move I caress her arm with my finger tips Leaving fuzzy goosebumps and giggles I gently kiss the angels neck I gently kiss her ear She grabs me and kisses my mouth with her heavenly lips Sweet strawberry flavoured lip gloss The clear kind The kind that makes her lips look like i want to **** it right off of them So i do Her top one first All the way around her supple pink with my tongue And then her bottom one Taking my time til her moist strawberry is transfered from her lips to mine She shows her appreciation through sighs with her tongue Wet strawberry softness My glossy Godess
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
Strawberry Kisses
A very Happy DIWALI To All of you And Your family. May godess laxmi And Lord ganesha Bless You with Good health And Good fortune.
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Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 6:52 AM UTC
🕯🕯🕯
"My love, My Sun God, The beat of my fragile heart, The crown of my head, What is inflation?" asked the wife to her husband. "My sweetie  pie, My Moon Godess Artemis, My exotic perfume, It's  simple. First, when we got married, You were 36-24-36, Today you are 48-52-50, You have everything more than what you had before, But, your value has become less, That's INFLATION.
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Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
INFLATION
My Mistress' Eyes Are Everything Beneath The Moon; The crimsom of her lip is as the shade of blood; If coal is black, why then her thighs are cream; If skin be burlap, white silk is her body. You have never seen masked daisys, black and blue But she creates blooming poppies on my cheeks, And no perfume upon the earth compares to her scent The exhalation of my mistress is as jasmine and honeysuckle. I hate when she is silent, yet well she thinks, All other sound is dissonant compared to her voice. A godess I first saw, as she passed me; My mistress levitates and glides across the air.     All the horrors of hell, are fine, if her memory remains in my mind. Her magnificence is selfevident, with words beyond compare.
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Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 9:26 AM UTC
My Mistress' Eyes Are Everything Beneath The Moon
It's difficult being a godess, From what she says, Listening closely to the cries of those afflicted, Surrounded by pleas and self-acrimony, And the Ill-nature of things, Her soul abounds with sympathy, Her will strikes down her empathy, Suffering begets compassion, Be it beast or human fashion, In the mind of mortals, It is through these portals, Redemption is often found.
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Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
the godess of malady
It was my first indulgent, Not quite my requirement. I did it anyways, even though my heart parted ways. I got used to it, I got obsessed and addicted. I outgrowed and declined every form of forced agreement. It didn't end there, For I explored, More than godess or god. I didn't have a care in the world, Of how I'll look, If they found out about my world. I'm innocent, Or maybe I'm not. I blame this, I blame that, I blame them, But the fact is I carried on. They were unable to bring me back, For I myself had formed a pack. I finally found my switch, A hard switch; hard to press, But it was there. Now there is no turning back for me, For the thought of written words, Is what unlocks my secret door. The pace was far, The race was sour. And today I say, I guess I have to put up with this aching sensation, Due to my Obsession and Addiction
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Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 1:00 PM UTC
OBSESSION / ADDICTION
all these words you promise you think your such a godess really you'll crash like everyone else when i look at you i see your secret words you preach behind the close doors and the sheets you think your so sneeky but really your clear as bleach and your stuck on my skin like a leach so practice what you preach and listen to what you teach please get to walking down that one way street
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Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 6:32 PM UTC
Dramatic
Colour of a blue eyed newborn's Iris sneaking itself through Marshmellow clouds lined With pink mother-of-pearl And my admiration. I want to touch everything. I work with my hands. I can build whatever you need, And am the best tickler South of the Arctic. I want to put my fingers through Anything beautiful I see. Always looking; Wanting to touch. That which begs to be touched My mind caressing tree limbs Breathing in celestial counterparts To weave through this new configuration Third eye open Stumbled upon fathomless depths Unknown Wide brimmed, wide eyed Don't sleep, don't sleep So much yet to soak up To taste That which begs to be tasted. Skin, warm with wanting, Wet with relief and Passing contentment. Lips that uttered Curses now kiss soft Fingertips tracing More love than Love has ever had. All is new To the reborn. Here are my hands. They see through me, Look into you, and rest Upon the centre of your Innermost centermost. An umbilical between Godess and Man. I smile mouthfulls Of everything. Hopeful, hope filled The silver edge to this cloud Dropping rainbow 3pm's to halo Around my grinning skull I am simple in my sobriety Chrystal cut clear in winter yearning Seeing the forest finally for the trees These wonders reaching down out of the darkness Shedding light on this pale, pale mourning Nerve tips trace along your dips and curves Memorizing Mesmerized And that baby-eye blue Is now a full grown heaven Full of sweet nothings And nobodys, Holding only such ideas as Void and timelessness In its handless hands. I watch it with you; arm Around your doll waist, Shoulder against your Head. It's a new day. A new, beautiful day. A new, beautiful, hopeful Day for us both. Pots of gold on either end Of this unimaginary Rainbow.
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
Embracing the Change
Colour of a blue eyed newborn's Iris sneaking itself through Marshmellow clouds lined With pink mother-of-pearl And my admiration. I want to touch everything. I work with my hands. I can build whatever you need, And am the best tickler South of the Arctic. I want to put my fingers through Anything beautiful I see. Always looking; Wanting to touch. That which begs to be touched My mind caressing tree limbs Breathing in celestial counterparts To weave through this new configuration Third eye open Stumbled upon fathomless depths Unknown Wide brimmed, wide eyed Don't sleep, don't sleep So much yet to soak up To taste That which begs to be tasted. Skin, warm with wanting, Wet with relief and Passing contentment. Lips that uttered Curses now kiss soft Fingertips tracing More love than Love has ever had. All is new To the reborn. Here are my hands. They see through me, Look into you, and rest Upon the centre of your Innermost centermost. An umbilical between Godess and Man. I smile mouthfulls Of everything. Hopeful, hope filled The silver edge to this cloud Dropping rainbow 3pm's to halo Around my grinning skull I am simple in my sobriety Chrystal cut clear in winter yearning Seeing the forest finally for the trees These wonders reaching down out of the darkness Shedding light on this pale, pale mourning Nerve tips trace along your dips and curves Memorizing Mesmerized And that baby-eye blue Is now a full grown heaven Full of sweet nothings And nobodys, Holding only such ideas as Void and timelessness In its handless hands. I watch it with you; arm Around your doll waist, Shoulder against your Head. It's a new day. A new, beautiful day. A new, beautiful, hopeful Day for us both. Pots of gold on either end Of this unimaginary Rainbow.
Continue reading...
77
I could be a godess and you you could be there. you could watch me drink too much and dance under the moon and her children. the grass would be wet and cold my head would be spinning our hearts would be pounding. my foot would slip you could catch me. and drunk as we are off youth and cheap beer we could look at each other and forget the hatred we've buried each other in and the love we swore we left behind and we could just move into each other. but that would only last a second or a minute or the night. when the sun came up heads would be pounding and you would be full of regret and I would be full of sadness and we'd both go back to pretending we don't love each other. so maybe I'll stay away and you you will keep forgetting me.
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Oct 1, 2011
Oct 1, 2011 at 11:09 PM UTC
Drunk Nights
the god boy, grows a pace no longer small, squalling child now showing a fierce independent streak that causes pride and fear in equal amounts it is hard to balance the need to learn and the need to teach...to protect we fail the balance regularly yet are fortunate to have suffered no great ..... or lasting consequence his greatest attribute, our greatest joy his sunny side up, the ability to always, see the best in everything..... eventually as we slow and grey, he seems brighter, more intense... gathering colur into him only to give it out... in a argent radience that is contagious... in it's beauty of course, he has his flaws my child, is far from perfect like his father, his floor is his wardrobe and like his mother he is prone to losing himself in bookworlds, while mundane chores await.. but he is both the worst and the best of us and more importantly he is himself....forging and identity and entity bourne of love and compassion and honestly as a mother godess and as a father god there is naught more we could wont or ask for...
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Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 12:44 AM UTC
satisfied...so satisfied
You Oh no you sit Really I insist Infact my whole trajectory supposedly pivots on you taking that seat And not getting up I don't know who you are You have a different chromosomal make up So were obviously a match The frequency of my laugh Moving from my lips is intriguing to you Your thoughts have created a godess from a human I wish you wouldn't Yes the weather is right for a ride And coconut surprise But this whole sharade is rather sterile Boy seeks out girl cause of her chest and the way she sits just so in the nest... It's all so calculated and conducted like chopan How bout raw unruly foot in mouth utterances Jackson ******* type splatter How bout we show our worst cards and see if one is worthy of the good a test to extend the boundaries of our so called yard How bout we throw up on the first date and skip the second How bout we  call it check mate and  shake hands with the aching spirit inside, save a seat for a much looser rhyme
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 1:45 AM UTC
loose rhyme
Here comes the black; Wrapped in softer afternoons and distorted visions of God (Or was it Godess who kissed my tender lips?) While I waited on Earth to strike my shattered remains. I was never one to believe in fairy tales, But the truth is harder to hide Than the hair from my razor. What is it I am left with? Hollowed desires? Poisoned cognitions? Absent thoughts? Always. There was never any other way to express my love For the powers that be. Am I to believe that Nothing really equates To my existence? No. Refusal is my only option. I love the way I can **** my own reality. I love the way I can **** yours in my perception. And mostly, I want to love you.
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Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 4:50 AM UTC
Drunken Exercises
we can be like alice but not like the one in chains we will be free, freer, freest. swallow the magic potion, shrink from the drink that dripped onto our palms. your palms will be sweaty and cold pressed to my face- your eyes are ice, your love is lice it makes me scratch my head. we'll be small but we'll feel twenty thousand feet tall. we are a leaf of grass. maybe it's just the change in the weather, but i want to shrug on your sweater, and ride your miniature horse until sunrise. hushed voices are almost screaming and careful footsteps seem to be running i'm thinking of the way i used to feel. *beautiful?? lovely?? a godess?? stunning??* worth it. riding those miniature horses until sunrise seems to be a waste of time again because when morning comes they are always men again, and i don't want to be small anymore.
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
miniature horses
You lay there in her arms, Under the blankets, Both of you comfy and warm. She whispers softly in your ear... "Bedtime Baby." She softly runs her fingers through your hair, And quietly sings to you, With the voice of a Godess. You close your eyes, Enjoying the comfort. You are asleep in her arms before you know it, A sweet little smile on your face... There's no other way you would rather fall asleep.
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Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
The Perfect Bedtime
i a walk about towns lily be crowned great godess to bed airwares on..parenthesis perchance to dream in splendour and innocence.. shared the family of man when more is less.. when we live free of fear and intimidation when violence against women be uncommon.. we safe in our home where human rights exist.. for everyone where we own ourselves body and soul.. ii a little bird sings outside her window through the pale dawn´ s light.. she says in oblivion where she does not know where there´ s a way.. iii where we on a wing where love the day where night bring hope so.. where the moment the pauses truth our meditations and free lost cause where equalities where dreams like sheep count she smiles.. iv where concord is obvious and profound like the blue bus lily laughs..exclamation like a little bird.. tucks her head turns and goes on in search of the right word the juste mot where we like ourselves o she says the music stopped..
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 6:37 AM UTC
a walk about towns
Mothlet-like owl midges fizzling in and out of the waves    that shuffle the moon's shed reflection, hovering and imitating like a wettened rorschach-- with disembodied tiny teeth for feet suckling from the scurvyed gums where shadows are allowed to be kings. Kings that observe a godess body that spans the whole sky with ******* made of crinkled ash dripping latex that falls then cuts into the grass to                                         spread life--perfection spares no time for the impatient. Glistening stream,mucky dewlap of the mountain carving a caricature of someone  praying for rain and dreaming of a metamorphoses into ice. With the night comes tide. Comes time. Comes death. Comes life. If you were to sit down in one spot anywhere in the world and not move for another second of your life from there on in-- you would see so much beauty and pain You'd wonder what you ever did to be as lucky as you had been.
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Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 2:17 PM UTC
One with the plane
The Sky iS Frozen Money iS Falling, Green iN The Air. Theres A Scream, A Screen Can iT Be Crystal Clear Flashing its self to me How Could iT Be Yes, its The Substance iT Has Control Over Me, iT Owns Me iAlready Gave iT My Soul it Bought Me iM iTs Slave, iTs Puppet its Two Thousand Thirteen 2013 **** Hasnt Changed, iTake Rehab As A Game iGained More Knowledge iPledge To My Godess Which iS The Evil The Crooked The Devil. iM A fallen Angel iNlove with Crystal
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Fozen
For my long lost friend.. I long as fire's burnin' For the one who gazes stars My eyes were couloured as they are For one beloved who's found in flames Of poetry dividing names Ill grant as Godess gracefully Thy poesis among young Gods To ripe as contemplative pen Links likes and links To your immortal hand..
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
long lost friend
Fast was my pace. My pace called life. Speed balling with a shown Mixture of hevan, From a self made hell. A Godess wave, that kept me well. Numbed true feelings of pain by trading my worth. Such thoughts created only in a tarnished youth. Vibrations of glass after her warm wave swept head to toe. Aspirations cut out with a ***** swoe. Was Spun like a Clock on a cooks trailer door. Days to nights where just black and white blurs. Lost reality I never quite grasped. Sobriety, only known in short blinks of my eyes. A fairy tale. Another hole riddled my cheese cloth vains. A Godess hand, caressed my face tuning it blue. Another Over Dose to end a neopolitine junkies tale that should have been through. But a Gardian NarCaned me back. when I must have let go. Punctured blow to the chest to release her grip. Awake to mumble im fine. Just to get slapped back down with truth. The Time had come to bring change. To the fast pace, The fast pace I called life.
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
Godess vs. Gardian
When a poet is in love with you You'll have an experience of which you had no clue They'll notice how your hair fall on your tiny shoulder Nd how your eyes get lost into nothingness when you wonder how the big diamond fit itself into the hollow of your collar bones Nd how your eyes gleem on hearing their name like gemstones They will notice how you bite you lip everytime you are shy Nd how your lips swells nd nose turn red when you cry They will see you through their own as well as the world's eyes Nd they will kiss your tears away telling you some unbeliveable lies They'll speak of you as a godess they pray to Nd write down all they see nd feel just for you.
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Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Poets in love
there is no god or godess no hope no light at the end of the tunnel only darkness only the midnight sky only the burned out sun only the cold nothingness of being alone so very alone only nothing is there only nobody cares you want somebody or something but no faces are showing but no hands reach out no voices pierce the silence no body diving to reach you no body to embrace, so you shout WHY ME? ! WHY AM I ALONE? ! WITH NO HANDS IN MY REACH? ! AND NO ONE TO SEE! ANSWER ME! PLEASE! I CAN'T SEE! EVERYONE IS GONE! am i all alone? ....
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Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 10:17 PM UTC
Lost....