"gyrate" poems
Mythical Bird, show me your secret
Hatch forth from your shell
Plumage of orange and scarlet
Emerge glorious from whence you dwell
Fiery Bird, you must reveal
Your astounding, magical ways
Where from these lives you steal
Forever reincarnating well into your days
Aflamed Bird, you must teach
How you reinvent yourself anew
With no help within reach
Without aid, effortlessly you flew
Majestic Bird, take me in
Blanket me with your wing
Listen and acknowledge my sins
With all your wisdom and heart could bring
Magical Bird, will you impart?
What knowledge you keep
Only then, I may start
To make my way out from the deep
Enchanted Bird, you have to help
I'm desperate to rise like you
**** your head and hear my yelps
Of all the things I'm trying to undo
Celestial Bird, if only you could know
Intricate workings of this unfounded fixation
Why I seem to always wallow
An eternal target of sorrow's attention
Imaginary Bird, will you demonstrate
Your amazing fantastical flight
Dipping, gliding, in the air you gyrate
Aggressive dance with gravity you fight
Mystical Bird, won't you display
For unworthy eyes, would you give?
Seemingly easy, aloft you stay
Even when you know you'd die before you'd live
Wondrous Bird, oh how perfect you are
I am in awe, I am swooning
How you become one with the stars
Making the best of the short time you're living
Secretive Bird, is it time?
Reducing yourself down to ashes
Ready to absolve your stint of crimes
Reborn perfect, free from previous gashes
Ensorcelled Bird, please don't retreat
Back into your familiar cocoon
I'm uncertain if again we'd meet
Just afraid I might be gone too soon
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
midnight skin blanketing
******* toned hips
a warm tongue points;
this
the taste of ecstasy on my
fingertips
taunts the rehab in my touch
yearning to risk it
pills litter stone-wood floors
as we **** through flaws
**** feelings carpet the inner raw**
moaning and creaking
of hard wood
boards
wild moods
bodies wet
clinging sensual monsoon
fiending for a fixing
we cut through
bleeding lust
******
sheets whispering drops of
crimson truth
as familiar sensations pulsate
we gyrate
losing focus of whose waist
hanging onto
****
don’t wait
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
the grass quiver tantalized
well tuned strings
plucked by those hands
of the churning wind
passing by…. passing by.
the leaves gyrate in tune
dancing on the chords
echoing in the stillness
whispering then and then
to go on…. to go on.
the sound of monkeys
adding leafy rhythms
with their jumps and turns
a mad crescendo
high and low…. high and low.
floating with the song
joy an ocean in each pore
my mind still and yet
on a magic carpet that swirls
here and there…. here and there.
© Malintha Perera 2014
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
2018 05 21
That day my birthday
May 21st 2018 22nd anniversary
Me remember all as if it was yesterday's tale
How someone , very important stranger then,
sent me a b'day wish I still cherish to date.
Thats how it was born a unity of reason,
Between me and my love Diana Dee,
The beauty paragon I much adore.
Bae ur voice in particular,
Makes my ears gyrate,
Both in sure unison,
I will love u ***
without any
Conditi
tion
.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
Come one come all
*** inside everybody
Please do
Fill yourselves and spill yourselves
Wet your dry spots with your wet spots
Don’t sweat the petty things
But please pet the sweaty things
Dance like a warped record stacked on a broken record
So you can gyrate over a Led Zeppelin ****** of
OOOHHHHYYYEEAAAH and it makes me wonder
Soak my curiosity in your nearly naked
Let’s walk away from this mutually *****
You cantankerous carnivorous man-eating jellyfish
Stumbling to engulf me in your morphine
Lying like amazing lovers do
“No
I won’t leave you in the morning
But it doesn’t mean I will ever love you
I just want you to feel me
You feel me?”
And you left at 4 am just after I passed out
Leaving me stuck with
The wings made of chain-link handcuffs and sheets
Going from my wrists to my feet
Because you said you always wanted to make love to a butterfly
I thought I could be an angel
Or at least a stingray
So my venom might stay with you longer
But you left like I knew you would
Took the keys and I had to pretend I was wearing a white kimono
And because of the handcuff chain
I just started telling people I was the ghost
Of ***** lovers past
But you go ahead and go on back to your main attraction
I don’t mind workin’ side show
Standing like a man made *******
Pulsing at the thought of you potential
Waiting patiently like a secret
Verbal donkey show
Hollerin on the tail end of dawn
With a secret song on a broken record
When played backwards
“Don’t go”
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Kiss you low..Here I go
Communicate soul to soul
Touch is magic watch me grow
Lick for lick blow for blow
Open up to this kiss
Introduction to poetic bliss
I'm a G...I won't miss
Mark it off your bucket list
M.A.N not a boy
Ignorance I will destroy
Mastermind what's the ploy?
Sauce you up just like soy
Eat you up munch you down
Parade you pretty around town
Wicked doesn't need a crown
Whimper when I eat you bound
Rub you wet...Rub you wet..like a wish I'm gonna get
Oh so wet..Oh so wet..love it when you ready set
Enter thighs feel my rise
Stroke..Choke..steady and wise
Get that prize..Get that prize..No words needed can read your eyes
Hold it...ugh..hold it some more...on the bed then to the floor
Against the wall..through backdoor..on a sacred tantric tour
Feel me guide..as you ride..inside feel me slip and slide
Hit it wide..technique applied..what is needed I shall provide
Feel the quake..legs will shake..more than love we will make
What awakes? From pounding stake..squirting till no more can take
Still we go..beyond the soul..where no one ever goes
Yoni flower blooms like rose..Gyrate till your nectar flows
Taste is sweet..flavor unique..savor moment we reach our peak
What is complete? No need to speak..find what you sought to seek
Next level we begin to glow..Shine like stars put on a show
*** ****** this Scorpio...with poetry I Kiss You Low...
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week! , which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
But presently up spoke little dog Mustard,
I'd been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered.
And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink,
We'd have been three times as brave, we think,
And Custard said, I quite agree
That everybody is braver than me.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
Beloved wanderer,
What are you running after?
your external commitment to reach crassness is taller than a benevolent Tikbalang
you are quicker than its long legs to lead a soul astray
But my beloved,
where is your soul?
your Passion is non-existent
like an ondine, all you seek is an immortal soul to waste
on your blinded fate
on the woes you continue to create
and your petty blown up mates
a thick, bold flesh they’ll never extricate
surrounding the empty stems from which they originate
My beloved,
your eyeballs were so viciously extracted and replaced
with poisonous bile
your hellhound eyes are so vile
if one stares at them twice
they’ll be seized, and they’ll be sacrificed
and their souls disintegrate
their roots begin to decay
they merge with your spirits
and they aimlessly gyrate
around in circles,
my beloved, you **** the souls
dumping their bodies in holes
indulgent in mutilating the skin around your heart
vandalising your worth and claiming it's art
but my beloved wanderer
where is your drive?
where is your start?
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
Warmed sand from the hot day slides between her slider toes,
Her soft delicate ankles flex so tenderly with each step,
Smooth calves pull taut with petite strength, yet so frailly,
The falling sun dances on her hip and thigh seductively,
(A woman of complete ****** power, yet seemingly helpless,
Only as fragile as the tip of the golden dagger she bares,
Her greatest power is in your pleasures pleasingly fulfilled,
For once she has you clasped then her bidding can begin,)
Widening hips well versed in shifting her gently pooched belly,
A belly, so sensual, adored with melted elemental perfections,
Colorful beads to draws eyes to skin like petals of a newly bloomed rose,
A belly that when shaking releases all your heart's troubles and woes,
(When she loves, her warmth is ten times the sun on a cold night,
But if you were to oppose her, you are the prey to the panther's delight,
She will give you everything your heart could ever desire,
A kindness that burns inside her for her lover like a bellowed fire,)
Fluid, water like hands tell a story of enchantment as they slice through air,
Caressing a ***** so supple in form, a tear drop design of sexiness shown,
Gentle and smooth as her beasts gyrate with motion as her body moves like waves,
Her hands the constant agonist starting a seductive chain reaction through her body,
(A passionate heart awaiting a love so true, searching for her warrior poet,
She controls her world with her feminine wile but craves a life that is true,
A man that values and respects her intellect, equally as much as the view,
And look into her eyes to see the beautiful goddess that await him,)
Long flowing black hair loved by the wind, teasing her curls as she spins,
The beauty of her face only second to Nefertiti, but her eyes that of a goddess,
Eyes reminiscent of a feline capturing the attention of the strongest man,
Emerald green, deep with passion like the ocean, and rival its beauty infinitely,
A dream that I see her in and long for her intimately......
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
Your perfectly shaved deliciousness dripped its juices,
I was pulsating with pleasure,
guiding your eager hips
gyrate back and forth,
twisting and turning
in sync with the force
of my thrusts.
slowed down,
opening your legs
talented fingers
spread your
warm folds
wide apart
for me to
enter
you
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 8:29 PM UTC
In dazzled astonishment
She looked up from her reverie
As she heard the flap of wings overhead
And saw the flash of laser beams in her dim lit room
Before her, stood a winged seraph
A radiant silhouette with such gentleness and grace
As never beholden on any human face
With its hands raised in benediction,
It saluted Mary and said
“Blessed art thou amongst women…
……………………………………
The rest she heard in a trance.
Unable to comprehend what was said,
The girl looked up nonplussed.
Again it said, “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee
And a son shall be born of thee
Whom you shall call Jesus”
In that nanosecond of a new revelation
Did Mary’s world shatter like glassware
Or did her ****** womb thrill with new life
Did she swim in the waters of joyful tidings?
Or gyrate in the sweeping swirl of tidal waves
For the girl already espoused to a man
In whose dreams his comely form had begun
Flitting in and out
Was it a moment of silent ravishment?
Or of stupefied bewilderment
Did a dagger cut through her heart?
Or did her soul take wing in flight???
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
Banality reins supreme
In our children’s dreams.
What do you expect
When principles defect
And brand names
Mark the scene,
When rock stars sell their souls
To executives in suits,
Make perfumes
From their dance room sweat
And wear expensive boots,
Then slap their name
On random ****
And sell how nice and cute
Their clothes look on baby girls
They know we can’t refute.
As if they write their music,
Or pen their awful hits,
******* souls for millions;
Tear integrity to bits.
When art is lost for money,
And the formula is the norm,
When thousands gyrate madly
To aural chloroform,
When children posture wildly
In photos with no shame
And send them to their idols
Who don’t care to carry blame,
When all we know is taken,
Corrupted and perverse,
And all our keen philanthropy
Is squeezed into a hearse,
When there’s nothing left
But adverts on our doors,
And mindless dancing robots
Falling to the floor,
Then we might just notice
How much we had to lose
When we turned our children loose
To tie up their own noose.
No matter how steep the cost,
There’s always room to climb
As soul-less music moguls
Wrangle for a dime.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Your eyes devour me...
Her sheets of scented sin
Tasted lips
Quickening the
Whispering heat;
His breath upon her neck...
Peridot eyes, cast silent wishes
Suckling whispered thoughts;
A stream of tangled hunger
Shivered quiet...
Fire tongue skimmed
Autumn's flame,
Rapture
Breathless,
Shades of gold, caressed
Succulent *******
Amber whispered;
Intoxication sweet, a shiver-pour
Thrusting
The drown of midnight silk
Exotic dancing her sensual need...
Tongue jets softly
Hard,
Upon hips gyrate,
Flesh weakened
By the strain of ravage
Welcoming
Libation's drench...
Night's kiss sears
Heated flesh
Bathed in effervescence,
Creamy nectar delight,
A cascade
Between lips of adoration...
And HE...
Wrote his name
Frenzied
Inside her;
Snake hips, pulsing
To repletion,
Raising the satin sheen
Fire crimson with hardened-need........
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
Your perfectly shaved deliciousness spread,
Juices dripping all over the bed.
Pulsating with pleasure, my heart raced,
Watching your hips gyrate with grace.
Twisting and turning in rhythmic delight,
In sync with each ****** a passionate night.
You slowed down, legs open wide,
Fingers parting folds, wet and warm inside.
Talented hands exploring with skill,
Every touch sent shivers, a lingering thrill.
Our bodies danced in a heated embrace,
Lost in the moment, heartbeats kept pace.
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 8:28 PM UTC
I am dream, made flesh!
Cut
from your design
Burning,
Inflamed,
Caressed by your
Love.....
Purrrrrring softly...
Naked heart-print's press upon the tissue
Of trembling thunder;
I bend
Beneath his breath
While he permeates
A rake of glittered stars
Across my skin;
The barrier
Between his tongue and my scent...
Scarlet
He holds me ... liquid,
Framed to his eyes,
Teased
******* hard;
The melt of ice, fed on
The heat of his tongue;
Shedding night's skin
In shades of twilight...
Dark, eyes gaze through mine
Caressing
Silken pleasures;
The moistness of a stolen kiss,
Willing, wet,
Tasting the tender;
Of palpitating curves,
Of Soft thighs, quivering
Moving
Slow enough to
Swallow...
A tigress, unleashed, beneath
Her tamer's trance
I vary my pose,
The audacity of my savage
Innocence
Meets his gaze,
River-wild and dark,
The moment.... opaque
Darkened silk;
The slide,
Palms down,
My skin alive at the burn
As hips gyrate
On the rub
Burning where shadows curve,
Creating the fire of
Hunger...
A writhe of craze
A pause to breathe
To shut hard
The breath of me
As he inhales
Slim ecstasies, skin
Seizures
Immersed in milky secrets
Weak, with love.....
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 3:15 PM UTC
Sands of the beach,warms
to the glory of sunrise,the
red rays play gleefully on
their dunes giving them life,
A new dawn awakes to the
soft roar of the waves,rebellious
yet content.
Along the horizon the morning
fog removes her mystic veil to
reveal a ship,ghostlike,it slowly
approaches the shore,while seagulls
gyrate above in unclear patterns,
and the calm ocean in harmony with
the sky merge into the Oneness of Creation.
Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 8:37 AM UTC
epitomize
and optimize
imitate
and recalibrate
streamline
and recombine
the evolutionary "line"
fireflies
and theorize
circulate
and gyrate
guideline
and divine
the galaxy and the stars
moonrise
and clockwise
death rate
and procreate
sunshine
and lifeline
laws of nature are defined
maximize
and re-size
penetrate
and migrate
bloodline
and decline
the story of our world
allies
and despise
prostate
and dictate
enshrine
and benign
generations throughout time
endings
and beginnings
losing
and winnings
and everything
in between
is what we find
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 4:44 PM UTC
There is a wave of basslines rotating and vibrating in the landscape, smoking vowels splashing and cracking in diamond depictions.
Heartbeats thrum in dizzy formations, lost in the beat bopping
and flow rocking.
Heads spin in faraway galaxies, further than eternal Earth,
seamless Saturn, flaming Mars.
Secret stars burst with electrifying energy and trigger blazing consonants.
Hips divide into multiple equations in a series of grinding rhythms.
Over the top sensations spiral high in the sky across the jazzy
frame.
Muscles popping, feet hopping, arms dropping in breaking beats,
as sweet sistas and groovy fellas gyrate in timeless dimensions.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
This moment is hushed by ecstasy.
The moment's breathe is held~
and you can see the dusty particles
floating through the pillars of light.
This is the exhale,
and is also the silence.
The observation tower of consciousness..
It all just orbits-
Minute molecules gyrate
in vast space.
The waves oscillate
in numberless meditation.
This is where thought
originates from.
It is the nature
of the mountain air.
It is the emptiness
in between speech.
It is the moment of possibility
when a loved one is leaving.
It is the moment experienced
when holding a baby first breathing.
It is the stem of
importance and meaning.
I am starting to remember
where we have been
and where we are going.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
legs stick-straight
my hips don't gyrate
my hair's not well-trained
and my ******* aren't the same
size
my eyes
aren't bambi-watching-his-mother-get-strapped-to-the-back-of-a-van-BIG
they're not blue like the atlantic, but grey like
cigarette ashes.
my eye-lashes aren't a foot in length,
they don't billow when I blink
and I've lost so many, a ton,
ones that I didn't even
get to
wish
on.
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 11:54 PM UTC
Like this morning for instance
Hot February and dry cracked
skin of my shadow
which sometimes seems
to look at me
and move w/out me
and I, w/out it.
Sometimes I see the flicker
of a dark soul jeer; a savage dance,
right in front of me,
or in the corner of my eye
when my head is tilted.
The other day at my friend’s
I felt like I was, briefly,
in the sunflower courtyard
of this ol’ dark
underwater museum
full of mirrors
that float adrift.
Angles that perpetually
gyrate and shift…..
I hear the sound of a whale
submerged in a highway
crying with striving despair
at night
and I'm sad
because his lovers reply
sounds so distant
and it sounds as if it comes
from a cavern w/in an ocean
below a sun
I hope he finds her
and dies happy
in the warmth of her flippers....
I miss the panther-warm wine & cream
Was it worth it
Is this worth it
Cold violet city
vacant warm lobbies at night
desolate allies and dogs in such deep slumber
they cant even wake to bark at impending footsteps
The musty brown cars
whose aura of mothballs and pipe smoke
reminds you of a childhood irretrievable
I smiled back at the rocks that snickered
Beside the fence
which stood firm
In caring vigilance
Cold verdure within
Misery mixed with
Getting bored w/ absorbing it
There’s a strange saloon w/ hotel attached
at the center of Melancholy
where flames are lit music is played
bodies are slowly denuded
and silver knives are thrown
I can show you…
(Long ago it seems
I bit and kissed and became
aquatinted w/ the bark of
the root of delirium
Recently even I’ve spoken
to the heart of delirium itself
from within
w/ no reply
but I can remember
all my memories were hallucinations)
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
Senlin, walking before us in the sunlight,
Bending his small legs in a peculiar way,
Goes to his work with thoughts of the universe.
His hands are in his pockets, he smokes his pipe,
He is happily conscious of roofs and skies;
And, without turning his head, he turns his eyes
To regard white horses drawing a small white hearse.
The sky is brilliant between the roofs,
The windows flash in the yellow sun,
On the hard pavement ring the hoofs,
The light wheels softly run.
Bright particles of sunlight fall,
Quiver and flash, gyrate and burn,
Honey-like heat flows down the wall,
The white spokes dazzle and turn.
Senlin, walking before us in the sunlight,
Regards the hearse with an introspective eye.
'Is it my childhood there,' he asks,
'Sealed in a hearse and hurrying by?'
He taps his trowel against a stone;
The trowel sings with a silver tone.
'Nevertheless I know this well.
Bury it deep and toll a bell,
Bury it under land or sea,
You cannot bury it save in me.'
It is as if his soul had become a city,
With noisily peopled streets, and through these streets
Senlin himself comes driving a small white hearse . . .
'Senlin!' we cry. He does not turn his head.
But is that Senlin?--Or is this city Senlin,--
Quietly watching the burial of the dead?
Dumbly observing the cortege of its dead?
Yet we would say that all this is but madness:
Around a distant corner trots the hearse.
And Senlin walks before us in the sunlight
Happily conscious of his universe.
1.3k
Everyday I pass by the twin arcade
Everyday I pass by the twin store
But I never perceived the old man
with his blue turban ,
with his credential,
with his assign attire,
checking the folio of every passerby
But instantaneously,
my eyes seize the eyes of the old man
but he gyrate around
He was white as the winter snowfall,
He was cute as my Grandpa,
He smiled with torment,
He looked with keen eyes,
But I wondered why?
In this hazy cloudy cover
where the old man is waged
I evoke the days of my mother barking to wake me up,
but her utter ampthy of beholding me dormancy,
let me took off from my phronthistery
did someone showed the same affection to the old man
I awe why he was working at this senility?
I awe where was his progeny?
I awe did they left him?
I awe was he alone?
I desire to blather with him and ask him to be my Grandpa
But the old man was overshadowed
with my beau tight embrace
and I left the arcade
but in a hankering to meet you again Grandpa
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
I Whispered Into the sweet essence of her night and she breathed a sound that had no words
but needed non. You see, we were in full flight now. Could there be anything more exquisite.
More sensual, more urgent more animal,more human. No.
Wait. Savor this, close your eyes my love and help me make this last.
My lord. My sweet, I feel every fiber of you now wrapped around me but slow.
Ecstasy is an empty word now I must find another. No slow. I feel your need but slow.
Your body.Your warm. Your slick. your smell. Your taste but slow.
Your every sweet utterance takes me further.
I taste the sweat that shimmers in moon lit night below your upturned chin as you grin the
grimace with teeth bared and eyes shut tightly. Now they shine brightly as you bore into
my very soul about to lose control. Hips roll in rhythmic urgency.
The pulsing tempo in the hollow of your neck. It glistens. I must know more. But slow.
The crescendo will wait all the more reckless as it crashes and roars for now we swoop and soar
Then skim across the vast. We levitate. We gyrate. Hold me close now let me go and turn your love
around now slow. This feeling that envelops me my love. It holds me gently formed and warm it burns
as the tempo rises . The rhythm unbroken like sweet music. Sweet music is the maestro.
I pray to stay in fusions grasp till wretched breath and pounding heart leads us fall away in
the after. The reclamation of senses . The glow. I want you more. again. again. again.
I feel you shudder, you skin flutters in anticipation but senses are bare and heart still seeking balance.
I hear the gentle beating as I lay spent my ear pressed against your gentleness.
Please if I must die at some future date why not now for
I will never know a moment past this so pure and joyful
It is impossible that living further will afford me more.
My darling .
Again my sweet.
On satin sheets.
Again.
Again. Here I go
Again.
.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
i.
Thither soon
The harvest Moon;
September, mine month of birth
Me and mine Reyna shalt swoon.
ii.
Asunder the leaves
Through the fall lit tree's;
Me and mine dame
Shalt gyrate the amour that we bleed.
iii.
The moon to be red
Ourn eye's to giveth vision's;
Of me and mine sweet Jane
Making love in celestial kitchen's.
iv.
On the grass
In the sea of thought;
Ourn affection unearhtly
Not to be store bought.
v.
Ourn headdress
Made from peacock quill;
A medicine woman and man
shaman of autochthonous skill.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC