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"highness" poems
I know you love it, I can feel your vibe. you don't just see me, you see my other side. I saw you looking; how you stared for a while, noticing you smiling, when I caught you, for the second time. must of been those stunning eyes or that curious smile, you caught my eye Wanted you closer as the seconds went by instead of just flirting, I wanted to be by your side. eyes feeling on each - locked out the world left each other stuck inside. I saw you notice me, and I noticed for a while. As I looked on, I noticed your style. And now I'm feeling you, lovin your vibe. noticed your eyes feeling, watching me move like a movie --- we should roll, and chill then take a ride Close your eyes, and let me climbs inside. Touch your soul, while I ease your mind, rock your body, sooth it with mine. giving you the real me, until you are addicted to that natural high. Don't rush a think, lets just take our time. Relax, baby just enjoy the ride. Coming into my world, while I dip inside. give me the best of you like its already mine. Introduce your Highness to her new shrine.
0
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Trance
upon the elephant rode a boy prince, his royal command, he was there to evince. dark with grace and dripping with youth. bringing his men, his crown and his couth. town after town he strode fierce through the gates. and any detractors were left to cruel fates. and on one windy day, as they strode into town. the faces where tenfold and a hush passed around the grey of the creature with knowing black eyes swayed left towards the crowd as if to capsize. and the mass gasped in horror; bairns seized by their mam. men flung at young ladies, babes pulled from the pram. the bewildered and flustered tired elephant sat. in the center of all on the bald pastors hat. the old pastor looked stunned to see such a disgrace. until he remembered, and composed his face. 'your highness' he bowed. his manners restored. but the poor prince was toppled his mighty seat floored. they gasped for the prince, just really a child dressed in fine silks on this elephant wild. pastor said, 'here now' extending an arm hand wrinkled and gnarled from the land that he farmed. then the guards sprung to life as if sudden awake guns point to the man of whose life they would take. and just as they squinted their eye for the aim a boy sang out sweetly, 'sire he's not to blame!' and the prince from street where he lay in pool held up his hand and recovered his rule. he looked at the crowd and he said 'boy now speak' the boy said, 'prince it is the prayers that you seek. the prayers that you'd visit. the prayers that you'd stay. lord must of heard them and granted this way.' his eyes wide with truth and the love of his church the prince laughed a beautiful belly filled lurch. the carriage was called as the prince shared a feast. and even some water was splashed on the beast. such a good time as he danced and he spun till the horses arrived in the dust of a run. to thank the town and the lovely haired boy the young prince gave up his own precious toy. the beast stays quite put in the center of town... but prayers said no more...so the prince won't fall down. sahn 04/10/2014
0
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
The Elephant Gift.
upon the elephant rode a boy prince, his royal command, he was there to evince. dark with grace and dripping with youth. bringing his men, his crown and his couth. town after town he strode fierce through the gates. and any detractors were left to cruel fates. and on one windy day, as they strode into town. the faces where tenfold and a hush passed around the grey of the creature with knowing black eyes swayed left towards the crowd as if to capsize. and the mass gasped in horror; bairns seized by their mam. men flung at young ladies, babes pulled from the pram. the bewildered and flustered tired elephant sat. in the center of all on the bald pastors hat. the old pastor looked stunned to see such a disgrace. until he remembered, and composed his face. 'your highness' he bowed. his manners restored. but the poor prince was toppled his mighty seat floored. they gasped for the prince, just really a child dressed in fine silks on this elephant wild. pastor said, 'here now' extending an arm hand wrinkled and gnarled from the land that he farmed. then the guards sprung to life as if sudden awake guns point to the man of whose life they would take. and just as they squinted their eye for the aim a boy sang out sweetly, 'sire he's not to blame!' and the prince from street where he lay in pool held up his hand and recovered his rule. he looked at the crowd and he said 'boy now speak' the boy said, 'prince it is the prayers that you seek. the prayers that you'd visit. the prayers that you'd stay. lord must of heard them and granted this way.' his eyes wide with truth and the love of his church the prince laughed a beautiful belly filled lurch. the carriage was called as the prince shared a feast. and even some water was splashed on the beast. such a good time as he danced and he spun till the horses arrived in the dust of a run. to thank the town and the lovely haired boy the young prince gave up his own precious toy. the beast stays quite put in the center of town... but prayers said no more...so the prince won't fall down. sahn 04/10/2014
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45
I've been dreaming about a girl With silver hair and icy eyes, With pink lips and good vibes, With the softest smile and skinny thighs... She was the sun ray that kissed your face After the cruel winter haze. She was the gracious lioness, Almost like a royal Highness. But she was just a con Because, c'mon , She told me she loved me, That she'll never leave me And then I woke up and she was gone And I was left alone from dusk 'till dawn.
0
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
Her name was Happiness
I love it when i high... all my problems get fry.. ...like Ice melt in the dry.......
0
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
Highness............. Marijuana
We call her name like she's the queen. Lips quiver with understated pleas. So this is what "your highness" means. The analog clock wails 4:18. Our voices muffled in this cool sea. We call her name like she's the queen. You, my own porcelain figurine, Each tiny chip of you impales me. So this is what "your highness" means. No room for time here in between, All else I've known has been set free. We call her name like she's the queen. Quake my pulse like a tambourine, Let me teach your mouth to see. So this is what "your highness" means. Powerless when she intervenes; Royalty lives between the knees. We call her name like she's the queen. So this is what "your highness" means.
0
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 7:57 AM UTC
Queen
May I be a royal highness even if my community is made up of three Gallivanting around as the crowds bowing To sleep where I please Holding the fridge open while wearing nothing but a crown I will play out my fantasy while drinking liquid royalty
0
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 4:02 PM UTC
Sweet taste of victory
consume us, oh, pools of darkness around. your bottomless ponds look back at us, don't they? let us climb up your nest, and sew your threads. your golden crown will never waver, your highness. use us, destroy us, make us your puppets, materials, playthings, anything. we are yours.
0
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
hunger
Intimidating intimacy I’ll wait for you to put a ring on my finger, Not a ****** on your ***** Intimate intimidation Assertiveness, not aggressiveness, is a quality fit for a Prince. Your highness, Dost thou want thy queen? Seems even marriage has fallen under the blanket of Fashion over Function. Wedding rings mean more than wedding vows. Gone are the days in which marriages fueled society, and Function before Fashion. Cheers to the weeping ages of an ill generation. If only love lasted as long as 14 karat gold.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC
Hold My Hand
I send my voice into your mouth You return the compliment I am the Count of Cannizzaro You are Her Royal Highness the Princess Augusta I am the thaumaturgic chain You hold the opera glass and cards You become extemporaneous song I am your tutor You are my invisible seed I am Timour the Tartar You are my curious trick I your enchanted caddy I am your confounding doll You my confounded dummy.
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4.3k
The Ventriloquists
I smelt it from afar and thought about the The imaginations The cool breeze The sound sleep The trips The laughter The hot *** Lovely night it would be. #Highness #Trips #Love
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
Mary Jane
when i told you i was a queen you knelt before me sword out and pledged your allegiance to the ruler of your  heart you called me your highness and dared ask for a crown i'll now burn your bridges send knights chase you down chain you in my dungeons and dissect you one slice at a time i'll feed you to my dragons treason is a deadly crime
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 6:56 AM UTC
queen's justice
mr moonlight mr nowhere maxwell edison mr jones dr robert sgt pepper mr kite, bb king edgar allen poe walter raleigh mat busby the hendersons and maggie mae mr mustard captain marvel rita lucy jojo vera chuck and dave mother nature polethene pam mr heath doris day and buffalo bill loretta martin **** sadie hey jude eggman my michelle rigby and pilchard or elenor and semolina took father mckenzie too see a dancing horse henry his name was rocky raccoon was there prudence rode elephant to the i me mine waltz --- There gonna crucify me the way things go christ it aint easy the next day dont know you know the walrus was paul man johns bird can sing george was a genie ringo wore a ring but paul is dead now george stole his soul john is alive though ringos in a hole her royal highness the tax man commit the perfect crime she asked for more with a belly full of wine
0
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Beetles
Inside the Rainbow Forest Where unicorns are born, And fairy dust floats on the air From sundown until dawn, There dwells in royal splendour Yet very rarely seen, The king of all the pixies With his pretty pixie queen. His palace is a mushroom As tall as any tree, With bright red spots upon it That will make you squeal with glee. A winding golden staircase Stretches to the very top, In a mesmerizing spiral That you think will never stop. All those brave enough to climb it Would soon chance upon a door, With the most enormous knocker That you really ever saw. One hard tap summons the butler, A polite and friendly gnome, Serving tea and fondant fancies That will make you feel at home. Through a maze of vaulted chambers Each more lavish than the last, Passing walls lined with the portraits Of kings from the distant past, That dear gnome shall gently guide you, With much merriment and song, To the Great Hall of his master Who resides there all day long. From beneath a silver archway Set with precious gems galore, You will enter to the fanfare Of ten trumpets, maybe more. Dainty apple blossom petals Shall be scattered at your feet, As you bow your head in homage To the king you are to meet. With a heart bursting with wonder You will hastily be brought, To the throne of his most highness Far across the royal court, Threading through the marble towers Of an ornate colonnade, And a troupe of prancing dragons With their riders on parade. Seated high upon a pumpkin In a matching orange gown, Curly shoes of bright green velvet And an elderflower crown, The king shall bid you welcome With a beaming toothy grin, As he beckons to the minstrel For the music to begin. With his beard like cotton candy Waving wildly in the air, As he slides down to embrace you From atop his lofty chair, Both your arms shall link together To the fiddler's merry tune, Clicking heels and laughing loudly As you skip around the room. In the magic of the moment You will give yourself to fun, As the mischief making monarch Tweaks your ears and cracks a pun, All those cares your heart now carries Shall dissolve and simply be Lost in wondrous celebration Of a pixie jamboree!
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
The Pixie King
Inside the Rainbow Forest Where unicorns are born, And fairy dust floats on the air From sundown until dawn, There dwells in royal splendour Yet very rarely seen, The king of all the pixies With his pretty pixie queen. His palace is a mushroom As tall as any tree, With bright red spots upon it That will make you squeal with glee. A winding golden staircase Stretches to the very top, In a mesmerizing spiral That you think will never stop. All those brave enough to climb it Would soon chance upon a door, With the most enormous knocker That you really ever saw. One hard tap summons the butler, A polite and friendly gnome, Serving tea and fondant fancies That will make you feel at home. Through a maze of vaulted chambers Each more lavish than the last, Passing walls lined with the portraits Of kings from the distant past, That dear gnome shall gently guide you, With much merriment and song, To the Great Hall of his master Who resides there all day long. From beneath a silver archway Set with precious gems galore, You will enter to the fanfare Of ten trumpets, maybe more. Dainty apple blossom petals Shall be scattered at your feet, As you bow your head in homage To the king you are to meet. With a heart bursting with wonder You will hastily be brought, To the throne of his most highness Far across the royal court, Threading through the marble towers Of an ornate colonnade, And a troupe of prancing dragons With their riders on parade. Seated high upon a pumpkin In a matching orange gown, Curly shoes of bright green velvet And an elderflower crown, The king shall bid you welcome With a beaming toothy grin, As he beckons to the minstrel For the music to begin. With his beard like cotton candy Waving wildly in the air, As he slides down to embrace you From atop his lofty chair, Both your arms shall link together To the fiddler's merry tune, Clicking heels and laughing loudly As you skip around the room. In the magic of the moment You will give yourself to fun, As the mischief making monarch Tweaks your ears and cracks a pun, All those cares your heart now carries Shall dissolve and simply be Lost in wondrous celebration Of a pixie jamboree!
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72
touch you on your lips feel it between your hips ******* on your neck making you wet what do you expect giving me what you get feeling what you feeling moaning back to screaming we ****** as hard as feening feels so good it's revealing emotions we concealing can't get enough of this wettin up your mattress ****** as we climb this gettin high of your highness blowing my mind leaving me mindless as long as its you, I dont mind this
0
Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 11:38 PM UTC
Highness
Far away in the castle, Your revered echelon, Your pure majestic skin, And your untainted generous heart, Have become the most appealing living things I've ever seen, Royal blood and Highness' sweetheart, But I'm just a wretched citizen, Routinely as a blacksmith, Single bread and rocking chair, Destitution and poverty-stricken, I have never been complaining the way the God treats me, To me it is just enough to get to see your beauty and hearty at the same time, The folks were saying that you are the descending angel, Spreading your wings over the entire people's heart, Sending the warmth with a hug, Delivering the happiness with a deed, They feel safe, I feel safe too, But feel sad a little, For just because I'm a blacksmith.
0
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
Blacksmith
She’s highness, deaf but not muted. Still dignified, past perfect, but still pushing. Withering tea addict, laughs at her own sophisticated and immature jokes. Farts. How the highness gracefully descend. Relaxed, reclined, hands placed still on abdomen, yet they’re itching. Noisy breaths lift her sinking body, till she’s plastered to the bed, not quite motionless. Can’t decline. Sits up. Peering, active, but stunted.
0
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:34 PM UTC
Old Gold
And more than echoes talk along the walls. 'Tis education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd. I am his Highness' dog at Kew; pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you? Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.
0
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
Epigrams by Alexander Pope
The state of being with no suffering is Shakti The state of awakening beyond sleep is Shakti When love matures and sweetens that is Shakti The fullness and fulfillment of masculine is Shakti When the sweetness matures that is Shakti The divine which resides in the thoughts is Shakti Whatever work comes before us is Shakti The state of mukti, the end, is Shakti The braveness which destroys laziness is Shakti The flame which is instilled in these words is Shakti When the best of fruits are eaten that taste is Shakti When thoughts of divine arise that is Shakti Shankara who lives on top of the huge mountains, his lovely flame is Shakti The lap where life flourishes is Shakti The strength which guards the earth is Shakti The flame which stops one from falling is Shakti (denotes inner strength that averts fall/defeat) The tapas that eliminates confusion is Shakti The finger which stops downfall is Shakti The one who spans the whole expanse of sky is Shakti Her highness who eliminates karma is Shakti The inner flame which shines from within the heart is Shakti
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
Divine power
Looking like highness from a distance, All dressed in diamonds, mouth shut in silence, Sitting still but judged in an instant, To most people often seems distant, Be mistaken of showing defiance, "Quiet is creepy", a false reliance, Nothing to offer even violence, What's the problem with staying silent?
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
A Quiet Bystander
My Lucifer, unwitting Muse, dog-eared Vonnegut, afrobeatnik third eye, howls escaping from your headphones, wailing about secrets, about infidelity, about analyzing life until there ain’t nothin’ left. Then you shuffle by in your black and white Adidas, hair in twists, wearing the striped sweater of nihilistic intent, quoting the rants of Holden Caulfield in your blog like you never didn’t know him. I never asked to know you, to want who I can’t have when I can’t even love myself. And every fiber Of my being yearns for reciprocation. What is there to return? What is there to feel, you meditate on truth, fallen angel in the parlor of rebellion, blasphemous goodbye, bright and morning star simpering like crickets in the palms of daybreak. Your musicality radiates from subway chatter and overheard profanity down El Camino Real. I take in your ballad at my post office mailbox, in the abandoned echoes of daydream monologues. You’re a philosopher, exploring theory of mind, a cartographer, mapping the labyrinth of your deepest desires. Tell me again about desires, demonstrations of divine sadism. Tell me about human empathy, the animated faces of wordless expression, the metaphysics of free will, my beginning and my end, alpha and omega, my fortress in the land of chic. Blasphemous hustler, let your idealism simmer, your wit, your mojo, I come to you an amateur, a neophyte, a lowly scab in the strike against ignorance. Give me my melody, my song, my one-hit-wonder of all that is cliché and unknown. But I can’t be the other woman, your girlfriend, your aspiring Playboy bunny only 10-bucks-a-throw. Your highness-who-yells- his-ideas-into-the-ears-of-echoes, your every quirk spellbinds me. Each day I wake to your entourage vibrato. I am held captive by your brooding stare, empress of liberal doves. You visit in my dreams when the sky is a force of darkness viewing light through peepholes, your flaws an aphrodisiac, a love drug, a fast hit in the basement from the ecstasy of words.
0
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 5:37 AM UTC
Fixation
My Lucifer, unwitting Muse, dog-eared Vonnegut, afrobeatnik third eye, howls escaping from your headphones, wailing about secrets, about infidelity, about analyzing life until there ain’t nothin’ left. Then you shuffle by in your black and white Adidas, hair in twists, wearing the striped sweater of nihilistic intent, quoting the rants of Holden Caulfield in your blog like you never didn’t know him. I never asked to know you, to want who I can’t have when I can’t even love myself. And every fiber Of my being yearns for reciprocation. What is there to return? What is there to feel, you meditate on truth, fallen angel in the parlor of rebellion, blasphemous goodbye, bright and morning star simpering like crickets in the palms of daybreak. Your musicality radiates from subway chatter and overheard profanity down El Camino Real. I take in your ballad at my post office mailbox, in the abandoned echoes of daydream monologues. You’re a philosopher, exploring theory of mind, a cartographer, mapping the labyrinth of your deepest desires. Tell me again about desires, demonstrations of divine sadism. Tell me about human empathy, the animated faces of wordless expression, the metaphysics of free will, my beginning and my end, alpha and omega, my fortress in the land of chic. Blasphemous hustler, let your idealism simmer, your wit, your mojo, I come to you an amateur, a neophyte, a lowly scab in the strike against ignorance. Give me my melody, my song, my one-hit-wonder of all that is cliché and unknown. But I can’t be the other woman, your girlfriend, your aspiring Playboy bunny only 10-bucks-a-throw. Your highness-who-yells- his-ideas-into-the-ears-of-echoes, your every quirk spellbinds me. Each day I wake to your entourage vibrato. I am held captive by your brooding stare, empress of liberal doves. You visit in my dreams when the sky is a force of darkness viewing light through peepholes, your flaws an aphrodisiac, a love drug, a fast hit in the basement from the ecstasy of words.
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36
And again my heart pounced over skin cold; that pleaded singleness, with hypocritical beats I bowed to, to her highness; to her petite shrill, a debut in partial denial; unpleasant, as i withdrew with foul felony, thoughts raced through judging ethics, while simplicity ****** away the soul, into a contagious six holed drain... And I locked myself behind blue bars, losing the wall I built with sweated palms, danced did I over viscous black waters, embracing the world's false desires, smashed them pretty birds withing their cage, lost all sense of peace, I go hidden, in awe of that ever pleasant voice; I bow again; in silence I ask me to plant me in her backyard, water me with her sour scents, sing me her sweet lilting lullaby, and embrace me into our little concord!! Where did the wisdom lay that moment? that moment when I tasted drops of sweat... Why would I **** that clown in me? that played tunes from a gleeful cassette... When will I lose my two shadows? that followed me even while I'd regret... (a puff o' smoke and some silence) And again my heart, it pounced!!
0
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 5:20 AM UTC
Hypocrisy
*Most of the time He's the lord of the jungle Everyone grins while he gripes Usually he's found just Lounging around in his stripes His tiger lady's A superfine feline Just what his highness deserves A sweet purring pussycat Proud of her pussycat curves He's a tiger in the rain It's the thunder and lightnin' He can't explain A tiger in the rain Who's frightened Caught in the storm he came Searching for shelter Right up to me and my spouse We both stroked his chin and Invited him into the house He's a tiger in the rain It's the thunder and lightnin' He can't explain A tiger in the rain Who's frightened He's a tiger in the rain It's the thunder and lightnin' He can't explain A tiger in the rain Who's frightened* *****************************************************
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
"Tiger in the Rain" by Michael Franks (lyrics)
She knows it is something to eat Smells like what she’d fancy as yummy … but not quite so She smoothly zigzags along Forbidden Chords Smells - Tosses - Hops - delicately Licks and Jumps at once back to Shadows wherein she always hides paints Numerous Cooler Tones with her Yawns Lest her Glittery Eyes a Pair that never shuts despite Days Seasons Nights I approach silently beside her Not to bother As if Wiser because I look taller -I guess- Stupid! Stupid! I just realize now... An elegance of furry highness lying aside For her ‘of me’ means Playmateness just none about silly bossiness among us With me She does her pats Gingerly Not to hurt As if as if I could not handle some Innocuous Spice But I mind not if she finds this way alright because I trust her nature with all of my broken Hearts And let go the all of me Fully to the fury of the Furry come on babe Hit me Come! Come Now! arghhh! Bites She! swiftly and tenderly brushes afterwards happens this All the -outta my sight- Time but she also Lets me win sometimes win ...I guess. ?. Purposefully Anyway Yeah Maybe it’s Love dunno why or how I wonder and smile then Cry aiaiaiaiai until a PATZ Paw shoots my Pathos outta Sight Come on Babe Hit me! Come now! Come! Argghh! :)))) Bites She!
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
I'NOXIOUS SPICE
Over this temple he reigns as King I drop to my knees and kiss his crown ******* obediently with every call of my name Worthy of worship so profound
0
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
my highness