"gyrations" poems
#
*This coup
A new nation
Loyal dedication
Its classification*
‘Species procreation’
Prevents us from facing
A human cessation
selective mutation
Gestation
Creation
It may help explaining
The reasons
Behaving
*But not the foundation
Or actions
We’re basing*
A simplification
is “continuation”
A checkbox
left vacant
*Fulfillment
We’re chasing*
We sweat
Eyes are gazing
A slight
palpitation
In need of hydration
Complete excitation
Without
hesitation
Intense stimulation
**Deep urges
Heart racing**
*Driven
By sensations*
**Unbounded fixation
Pelvic
Undulations
Clothing
Perforations
Time no longer wasting**
***This capitulation
a Sanctification
****** gyrations
Hint of ***********
The bedroom
Safe haven
For what
we are craving
*Once out
and displaying*
It all had been taken
Before
Feeling vacant
Freed imagination
A resuscitation
Indulged depravation
A rhythm
we’re setting
The giving and getting
**Destroying
the bedding**
All else I’m forgetting
Entwined
with each other
Like entangled netting
*Both
on the same trip
In a unified heading*
Now comes
the summation
A true
Revelation
Final
culmination
Smash all expectations
***Volcanic
eruption***
That lasts the duration
**Loud gasp
We unlock**
Filled with gratification
#
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:19 AM UTC
I still feel the distant gyrations
Of your eyes
When you’re off somewhere collecting
The marble shards
Of the skies.
And like the fall of roman nobility,
You always come again to rest
On illicit ground,
On my soft sultry breast,
Knowing that
Your past might resurface in a quick crimson breath,
Stealing you soon away
And yet,
Love is nearly as binding as death
In the provocative quiet
Of my soft bed.
For though convinced I was that we'd gone astray,
Truly fated, we were,
To this life that we've led:
To trust love no more,
Yet to love one
No less.
You're my exception, sweetheart--
A tasty poison, at best.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
Hey, met any hot chicks lately?
Yeah, that peahen is looking at me,
soon the others will too -
not at you, buddy…Oh yeah. Get real.
Just wait till I display my train of shimmering colors
and you’ll see the peahens making a beeline for me -
and you’ll have to bury your head
in the ground for shame
like those silly ostriches do…
All males have their self-esteem hurt in my presence, sure;
you’re no exception – don’t feel too bad…you’re just bad…
The last time I displayed my train,
hey - I caused mayhem in the ancient Indian forests
as the peahens went wild…
that’s why they’ve placed a ban on me
in the land
and how I ended up in this reserve
but I’m not the one to worry,
yeah, brother
you’d better step aside
and let me show you how
I call it the Kama Sutra of the Peacock Gyrations -
learn a bite or a posture and you might
be able to put your gene-stamp
on future generations…
now if you’ll excuse me,
I’ve got a thing or two to do
with these peahens clamoring
for a peck and a neck leading
vigorously to do
the mating dance with me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
two women
a single
Gemini
of desire
the yin
the yang
betwixt
the known
and unreachable
swinging
on wide
arcs of
extremis
inhabiting
opposite
polar worlds
and all
the spaces
in between
intrepid
sailors
dare hope
to explore
T
the outer
R
the inner
T’s
tiny
name
betrays
a big
robusto
femininity
bombastically
womanly
big *****
jazz *****
perfumed musky
hips and ****
that rock
and those
lips
oh,
those ruby red
Norma Jean lips
I’m puckered
up
begging her
to paste a big
rouge smooch
on my eager lips
press those
bustling bosoms
onto my face
wrap those
arms round me
with a rasperous
hug
shake me
with gyrations
of your gracious
shimmy thang
you wow
the bow
out of this
dog
taking lovers
prisoner
with the
coy blink
of wide
eyes
flashing
lashes
batting
brow
boldly
being
a force
of a
mothers
nature
bearing
and
belting
Bessie’s
*****
blues
to a
howling
crowd
wanting
more
fully
enthralled
bedazzled
enraptured
with quixotic
hypnotics
I'm frozen
solid
hoping to
melt
into the
heat
of your
inviting
fire
R
bespeaks
whispers
from an
inner place
she lines the
lost desires
of a yearning heart
she offers the
softest curves
the delicious touch
the wet presence
of a delicate tongue
limpid fingers
hide shy sly
*******
offering
invitations
to hidden nests
humming the incarnate
dark forest secrets
of bloomed lilacs
and sweet carnations
the voice of poems
dance and flutter
from her mouth
as the lightest
butterfly
wings wayward
onto soft hearts
yearning
seducement
her
kimono
gently parts
at the slightest
suggestion
of a rising
breeze
her songs
invite lovers
to pillowed
chambers
daring
intrepid
men to
risk the
death of
desirous
tempests
I melt
into the
delicate
complexity
of your
fleshy heat
my dear
celestial
twins
the lovely
Gemini
each different
reduce me
in differing ways
to a puddle
of rippling water
reflecting
the glorious
elegance of
wondrous
ambrosial
femininity
Dedicated to
T& R
Music Selection:
Barbra Streisand
Pretty Women
Oakland
4/26/12
jbm
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
Yet I Am Ready
Watching the waves eat away the castles made of sand
Staring at the way wind is churning at infrastructure land
like a big bad wolf who found the fear and lean foundation of a brick house
I am ready for her hand
I am all ready
Traversing fields filled with fruitless wonders
burning tundras rolling thunders
A Man attempting to put out its grand made funeral pyre
with nothing but a Jack and Jill bucket filled with reverse osmosis electrolyte infused hydrogen oxygen expired prayers
I am Ready for no man land
I have a radio already
Listening to Nokia raven chirps and bubble bee gyrations.
Evergreens whispers as wild blooms break concrete and asphalt and building plans
giving smiles to homeless man and woman
dreamers flowering in the night lights that were supposed to replace stars
I am ready
for the woods to takeover the hoods
for bear feets to take over the streets
for napkins to become extinct
to write with my god-given red ink
so that my being will dye into stone and dirt
To leave my DNA on my mothers belly and hear her cry
As she covers my mouth closes her eyes tearful from radioactive winds
let her know that I loved her and hugged her every chance I could
I am ready to give up me for we have not given back enough
We have devoured the essence and forgotten how to seed and harvest
the nothing has become us
which is why Earths flesh is colored rust
like blood mixed with scratching dust
we have bruised the body
and wonder if we can blame something someone else
but US
Every time the finger points the object of our deflection disappears
Rearrange the letters she was trying to help us HEARt
Rearrange the letters EARth is trying to make us Heart
I'm trying to make us Ear
These MTHFCKRS are among US.
We have bred them with our love lust
still unaware that they a fungus
These MTHRFCKRS have become US
they save a life to **** it from us.
they manufacture fakes to stunt us
These MTHRFCKRS have become US
Ideas devoid of what we need to come up
She must go now and rip it from us
We must shed our blood just to fund us
Cause these MTHRFCKRS have out done US
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:58 AM UTC
musical walls of throbbing
meaning
makeshift footsteps
escaping tendons
lashing tongues
notes of splendour
****** in my trombone-chills
whats the wizardry
in those piano fingers
belting blues
rainbow ecstasies
oozing ****** gyrations
three minute *******
splitting night into slivers
for tomorrows takings
lets dance
jam together
touch each others souls
with promise.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
Peculiar
Agreed?
How ******** clad lassies
Get the pass to show their ***
Long as nobody touches
Jiving gyrations
In counter-clockwise rotation
Seldom unescorted by damnation
By God, sense the relation
She's losing her patience
Can't afford to be a patient
So being patient...
That **** is ancient
Swanging ******* before eyes
Eyes that can't see
Eyes blind by the fuckery
***** get hickory
And the tic tickory of the clock
Stops
Drop drop
Shake that body for the coin
Make those men yearn to join
Their meat to your groin
Blind men throw out the presidents
Nixon Jackson Benjamin
Facts is
That these hoes stay cashing in
More than ****** busting traps
And toting gats to make stacks
Peculiar
Agreed?
How a ***** sell and smoke ****
High off they own supply
Baby mamas multiply
Covered all the **** by a lie
Making these young girls cry
And the innocent have to die
For this boy to strive
When you mad at the *** clap
Fat *** on a mans lap
Slow wine then fast
Slow grinding for cash
But no harm is caused
No obstruction of laws
But men be a "Boss"
& a woman... A loss
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
Well Annie now you've done it
through your gyrations, characterizations
imitations
a spot of light of spirit
flipped out into the ether
like some kind of spiritual dandruff
all crystal prisms
twinkling stars shook off of you
and floated
through my eyes and ears
and penetrated and infused
my pumping heart
through my circulatory system
snapping synaptic changes,
touching those places
of
dreams and trances.
Well Annie now you've done it all night long
with images of Olive Oil
and no Popeye
I have become a sailor man
unmoored from the safety of the slip
dragging the anchor
until the tether breaks
and find myself floating
on some Jungian sea
of the unconscious far away from the shore.
Well Annie now you've really done it -
How will this all play out
when walking down the faux marble hallways
as I roll up one wave of imitation
and down another in
clients/secretaries/billing clerks
deranged psychiatrists stories
and all of this reality
grabbing trying ranting riffing
how is this all going to play out
when strange guerilla theatre
erupts on backwards
in administrators offices
and leadership committee meetings
when I spread my legs
as my grand opening
in carrot top hangings
and turn to clients
offer them too
this spirit spark of
courage.
Well you've really done it this time Annie
when my door is locked
and pagers are begging for my attention
but I will be in the room at that desk
throwing rules, regulations
and my professional reputation
to the current winds of unwinding
truths and soulful stories.
When they turn to me
and ask for my forgiveness
in their true confession
or when I shift shapes
to the big onion
when everyone who wanders near weeps
when they ask me for that magic sentence
to make it all okay
or write a treatment plan
or
just a hand on the shoulder;
as they begin to talk
like rooms of old echoes-
I will tell them that will cost them extra.
You've done it now Annie forever
in my minute little world
rocked the boat
that spirit
like the butterfly wings causing the hurricane
of courage.
You've done it now Olive Oil Annie
I have found my spinach
and
freedom cannot be far behind...
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
*the lotus floats on waters
silhouettes dance in spastic-joints
a sombre-figure with a spiky do
cavorts behind invisible-mirrors
which reflect the lost motions of unchaperoned-pedestal
in corrugated-shadows*
don’t forget to lift that hem a little higher, lady
and give over to the pulsing rhythm
undo your leather-strap, it’s enough to whip out some frenzy
do what you want: you’re not awake, anyway
what have gone and done, dear girl?
is true-love to be found in the arms of a bearded Japanese?
yes, open that white blouse of yours with the silky-buttons on
while your eyes pearl-glaze over attending-cliffs
hold that slow-unfolding palm over your breast and
let busy aglet-fingers shake loose some nuciferous-reward
stems hold up sweet-flora and its waiting-petals
the gyrations match the ripped-space in your ceilinged-heart
slow-motion coy-boy on stand-by in heated-debate
where stickety-words carry the burden
of
knock-out honeyed-pleasure
high-pitched comes and you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be
than to fit your explosive jigsaw-piece up my nostrils
so that I can finally breathe
lithe and limber
*later, when you nod off
your dreams’ll take care of lost-thread and thorough-floss your mind
yank off the binding-straps
take it down muddy-banks into pools of upside-down sky
and the only light will be the reflected-glint of moon
as it winks its very firm OK*
S T – 21 nov 13
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
we tracked
her gyrations
on the weather
channel for days
eyeing the graceful
pirouette of her
cyclonic spin
incessant
bulletins of
the exploding
super storm
on a collision
course with
home, piqued
fear, kindled
fascination
drove fatigue
the day before
Sandy arrived
I followed the
flight of clever
birds lofting
away to the
safety of
inland hills
the foolhardy
mistook hubris
for intrepidness
lifting beach front
margaritas to
the roiling sea
unaware their
jolly libation begets
tomorrows sober
realization that folly’s
miscalculations have
calamitous consequences
The Doors
Riders on the Storm
Oakland
10/29/13
jbm
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 1:30 AM UTC
She comes in waves.
In vibration, pulsating;
In a silken grave.
Writhing, in pain and in pleasure;
Gyrations, a grind of leisure.
Bucking in the saddle;
Riding hard, and giving pressure.
On the range, right at home;
One who meets the measure
Jul 27, 2023
Jul 27, 2023 at 12:23 PM UTC
I desire to enfold you in my adoration
My senses are enslaved to jasmine and your skin, covered in symbols
Please, do not ask me to leave
Feel me open the door to your inner warmth
Elicit sympathetic gyrations, by stimulating your flesh
You lost your innocence long ago
Let me antagonize your lust
Imprison you within my embrace,
Increase the pace of your pulse,
Elevate your heart rate,
Coat your whole body in sweat,
And **** screams from your depths.
The sun will wane in the evening
And we will harvest satisfaction on my bed
And we will rise like the moon,
and drink the shine she provides
We will remake each other, a thousand ways
And cast our inhibitions out the window,
And get lost in the maze of each others bodies.
You will die, and be reborn, in the flash of a quasar,
We will cultivate and devour the fruits of our joining.
We will set the controls for the heart of the sun
Come rise with me, into the ionosphere,
Do not fear the suffocating void
I will give my lungs to you,
Each breath belongs to you already.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Entering a world composed of surreal images
My mind must twist itself into difficult yoga poses
Attempting comprehension of the madness
Black aprons meander in rhythmic gyrations
Under harsh soul stealing luminescence
Lubricated with coffee to perform
Menial machinations miserably
I am but a tourist
On their macabre island full
With nightmarish denizens
Of this local purgatory
The poet dreamt of no circle
As dreadfully inhabited as this sinister strata
Easily a septante of sins sordidly succumbed to by soulless citizens
Apathetic arrogance masquerading as hospitality
While decency and morality are assaulted
According to the overlords abusive schedule
I am struck mute with paralytic paranoia
As I hurriedly set my offering upon the altar
And search for exact change
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
To follow her is to
Twist and turn through life
Attempt to squirm free
And once more
her exotic scent
captivates you
At least your suffering
Is keen and intense
Every physical contortion
Only constricts her hold
Most predict despite
Numerous gyrations
The end will be catastrophic
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
sitting alone under the maple, rain falling down on my head
thinking of her in a distant place, feeling her love all around
never a touch never, never a hug, only her words ever been said
how can it be this love that is true, within you that I have found
love struck, lust ensues, need to take you to my land of dreams
our land, we have found in a far away place never to be seen
only then where I know full inner peace, her inner glow beams
if this place is never to be found, then your love I must wean
wean myself off, to keep from being broken, no more hurt for me
I know the truth tho, which is forever this I truly believe is for us
passion, and love is what we have, our love is true I do now see
when I have you at last, I will make you mine I am so **** anxious
anixous to take you to my bed, lay you down and bind your limbs
place my man hood to your lips let you show me love with your mouth
your mouth takes me deep feelings of passion our love never dims
my dream, my fantasy, my love, you are my belle from the south
embrace you deeply, invade my love, with all I am take you hard
in you deep holding you tight, gyrations we feel of the night
fears fully gone, trust all I know, no longer on my guard
no guarding needed cause your love shines deep no more fright
Sometime soon you will be forever within my reach, no more distance
no more miles keeping us apart, wake every morning next to my heart.
one trait I have never had, I am now learning, with you is patience
Soon my love I will take you forever, I promise to you never to depart
listen to my song, the music I hear tonight, the music of our ***
a sweet filling I can envision as I invade you with all of me
deeply filling you ***** at last, your *** I need my muscle I flex
sweet ******** passion, we both do now feel one day my pet wait and see
Sleep engaged with love inside, heart to heart my seed buried deep
holding each other tight, to scared to ever let go of our dreams
holding you closer kiss your lips, close our eyes and drift to sleep
awake again staring at each other, perfect life, our love gleams
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
twisted bodies turning
grotesque gyrations
in the dark places
where shedding your skin
and drinking blood
is common place
as those dark thoughts
creeping out of cracks
in your desolate mind
hear the dead drums beating
in time to your
broken ****** heart
welcome rotting arms
that grab and grasp
welcoming you in
welcome to the skeleton dance
a masquerade of bone and flesh
words like daggers in this vest
a blood red rose in midnight hair
ruby jewels left on these lips
brushed 'gainst mine fore dawns first kiss
bring end to nights horrid affair
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 7:23 PM UTC
Beginning with the frost and snow,
anticipation extended its tedious reach again,
but it was not right to suffer as the season
swept around the sun. A member of the
fall, like a tender leaf felt inured, by thought,
a humble intellect to serve the usual course
in words and weather, the pride of a
recurring sort. Weary blades of grass
were striving, even so, to grow against
the warmth in the few weeks, and, as the
skirts were purchased in the stores,
investment ruled to favor amiable, cold
breezes. The house grew quiet as the fans
were stilled for a suspense until the
furnace roared. The issue was patterns in
layers from the top, and the claim to the
design belonged only to the way the ice
expanded as crystals of moisture, crazy,
having forgotten how to caress the blossoms
of the shrubs; thus, a pleasure had gone to
sleep, its circulation numbed by
inevitable force, and conditions hibernated
beneath the indelible clarity of the air. The
splendid gyrations of the course became
obstacles harder on tightened joints, while
contestants moved from the warm climate
to the chilling, northern forests. It remained
possible to survive, because there were other
members of the team such as split sticks of
wood and cradles for sprained elbows. It
could not be suitable to grow tired of such a
challenge. When the door was secured, the
roots could relax and spread out like the
tentacles of a squid, beside the glowing hearth,
to read a book or watch a show. Above, there
was nothing left alive between the earth and
the birds, scratched into the sky and dashed
along the lines of wire. Birds sagged and were
swaying while the gusts played with their bony
feet clutched around the cylinders made of
copper and coated with insulation. Warm
currents and feathers made a thatch for a roof
that favored the roots and left them insulated
while around them slumbering creatures had
been forgotten. No memory existed to claim
the cycle of the warm days when the humming
in space reflected the ripples in the shaded
pools. The endless days were the realm of
vacant threads of branches in the chilly trees.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
and it all has come to this
poor working girls of the world
lethargic
psuedo sensual
gyrations
to appease
sleepless
pigs
my money is your aim
the way you whisper in my ear
and wherever your hands have
been
your touch is still
feminine
no mind games
no third dates
no humoring of parents
& you get to see it all
but it still has its price
there's no hiding the scar
and now we all know what you've done
and while you try to
tease
and please
i'd ask you up from your knees
and give you all ones you wanted
if you promised to spend it on your son
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 3:20 AM UTC
Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.
Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.
I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
*POEM 106
“Lose Yourself to Dance”
It’s a new year
so ‘lose yourself to dance’;
wild gyrations laughing
at hips swaying the air
in riotous tones
and happy feet.
‘Come on, come on
everybody on the dance floor’,
yes, even you
with those doubts and fears,
let me dance away your tears,
just ‘lose yourself to dance’.
~~~
I know the world’s a mess,
that we live in light and dark,
inner turmoil
of what we are becoming;
self conscious insensitivity
to atrocity after atrocity,
wondering,
have we lost our humanity?
~~~
As the world,
our lives,
teeter in this chaos
let’s STOP!
And lose ourselves to dance.
‘Come on, come on come on,
everybody on the floor’;
bodies afire with rebel music
we won’t live their way any more.
Let’s dance in our gardens,
plant our seeds,
harvest a world
without their criminality.
~~~
‘Lose yourself to dance’.
Yes even you
with all your fears,
all those self-cultivated doubts
pass them through music’s prism,
a mirror of refracted life,
a pathway to hope
and our humanity.
~~~
Come on, come on, come on
it’s a new year - 2016
everybody on the floor
join me in rebellious dance!
Aztec Warrior 12.31.15*
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
A striking increase in absorbance of DNA upon denaturation is known as the hyperchromic effect.
The two strands of DNA are bound together mainly by the stacking interactions, hydrogen bonds and hydrophobic effect between the complementary bases.
In their native state, the bases of DNA absorb light in the 260-nm wavelength region.
When the bases become unstacked, the wavelength of maximum absorbance does not change, but the amount absorbed increases by 37%.
A double stranded DNA strand dissociating to two single strands produces a sharp cooperative transition.
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 7:40 AM UTC
The choir girls on rooftops sing
songs of thanksgiving in
harmonious gleam
while the children dance
in vibrant gyrations
underneath the olive trees.
A fire burns while people cheer and chant,
and folk songs flutter like ash.
The sparks fly as burnt wood collapses
and the king takes his throne.
He addresses his court
with eager voice
that echoes across the fields
and all eyes and ears are keenly fixed
on his majesty.
He speaks:
"My people, my friends,
my enemies, my lovers -
from all lands far and wide -
will you open your eyes
and see your live like this?
There is no bloodshed or death
and I can see your lungs expand with each breath.
Now, please fill your cups
with the strongest of wines
and let music ring
with the loudest of chiming.
Let peace fill your souls
and love cloud your minds.
Lay down your swords,
pax et concordia
for love is the strongest of wards."
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
constricted even in the way we move our bodies
told that awkward
little
movements
are
inexcusable
things to be laughed at, hidden, and learned to avoid
girls must dance by swaying their hips
in broad
round
circles
boys must shift their weight from
foot
to
foot
The motions must be fluid
like water through irrigation channels
no room for random gyrations
for the freeing movement
with no control
We have forgotten
we must lift our feet
to show our souls
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.
Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.
I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.
Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.
I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC