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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
The Noose Oct 2013
It was just yesterday
She had a dream
Then it flew away
On the floor
Overpowered
Melancholia is always in season

The thunderstorm inside her head refuses to come to a halt
The twisted voices are forever present
She fears they will remain with her until she decays

Swimming in the ocean of hopelessness

Her dreams are bleeding away from her
Giving rise to medicinal desires... Again

To turn off her humanity for a relaxed mind  
If only for a little while
Euphoria... dazzling colours like a rainbow after rain on a hot summer's day appear in front of her very eyes
Disassociation with her surroundings and her body, all that she craves
A ******* out like stepping into a jar of pale pink candy that later becomes a large gaping hole when it all wears off

She has abandoned the habit but she is tipping off the edge of a cliff
Anything can happen
jeffrey conyers Feb 2015
Them lips.
Them eyes.
Various hypnotics parts that guys notice close or far apart.

Them hands.
Them legs.
Parts pf you that makes men notice.

Oh, you're not meat to eat.
Or anything like that.
But you have the  ingredient to make men want a sandwich.

You the one thing that men loves.
One hypnotic beauty filled with instant attraction.

Any beauty contest that you might enter.
Will instantly be won by you.
And in this case, i'm anointed winner.
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
let myself just stop halt, just for a second. let myself be myself, surrounded in music & by people I don't know..and some of them that I Do. stop for a moment & let myself just focus on their hands, their lips on me, working mine in the rhythms, those slutty club hypnotics crafted by sound manipulators. wait, Focus. Their soft, demanding lips on mine. not the ones I want but hey. Focus. Those slender fingers reaching up the nape of my neck- my arms give me away with natural goosebumps, my skin hacking up, reflexively, not aggressively, but with fondness & heated chills. those fingers, nails trailing my scalp...****, I wish he could do this - wait. Focus. her lips still demanding mine, but liquor likes to press the 'play' button when you're not looking, leaving you to stop. look at the mess you've made. children have a funny way of breaking all their favorite toys. stumble to the bathroom you half hoped you'd be tasting danger in about an hour ago. can't even be angry enough to flip off the other girl at the sink, too ashamed to look at yourself. the pressures of hating yourself some days unbearable because you get claustrophobic when the door closes with only you & your Savior inside.
The Noose Dec 2013
Late night dip into the metaphorical dense pool of delusion and subtle mania
Blood raging with residue of hypnotics
Deem me unstable and troubled
I cannot explain nor can I excuse my behaviour anymore
Sarah Gammon May 2013
i always told myself i wouldn't be the same person as my mother,
yet here i am, suffering from yet another ******* hang over.
i was proud to avoid all this **** for such a long time,
but now i can't keep my nose away from any offered line.

always finding boys to love me that have access to narcotics,
i say i want to fix them up, but thats just my hypnotics,
a clever ploy to let myself believe i'm doing something right,
when really i just can't seem to let the drugs leave my life.

many men have come to try and sweep me off my feet,
but when the going gets too good, i push 'em to the street.
not ready to let go of all my self-destructive ways,
even though i beg myself to change this every day.

i know sometime, i'll wake up and be ready to be clean;
some day i will find a way to wash myself of this gene,
because i swear, i was better when i was still a teen,
back when i was obvlious to the feeling of being a fiend.

i know i have the strength to help myself at any point,
but i haven't had a day where i could turn down a joint.
i keep reminiscing of the days where i was doing better,
but i'm still the only one whose saying "don't let her".

i'll carry on in the same way that i have been for years,
try to take it day by day until i defeat my addict fears,
i'll escape the boys that keep me with my wicked ways,
and find myself happy when i can reach those sober days.
Commitment wishy washy, Promises of gray. Nothing is for certain. Nothing is ok.
Reality drowns drowsy with every altar law. Hysteria hypnotics heard sheep from what they saw. Dreamy screaming chaos cause the vulture draw.
Relativity profound vaguely do I know. Extravagance aloof to a flippant hidden show.
Situational eyed compromise. Ethics smudged in stone. Pricey high the maintenance on all those all alone.
Convictions strong and stubborn Flex to bitter ends. Broken weak are fallen Victims to those too rich in friends. Nothing really matters mocks and condescending.
Scars of struggled choices sacrifice no fight. Decisions hasty darken truant to the light. Doing what is wrong is doing what is right.
Commitment wishy washy Promises someday. Nothing is uncertain. Nothings not ok.
Travis Green Aug 2018
I can feel
the upbeat melodies
resurrecting my synchronized feet
slick beats
pulsing spins
wheeling bars
fire sparking eyes filled
with intense bold hues
funky eyelids somersaulting
in timeless centuries
a swinging sensation
harmonizing with various nations
a rolling wave of flaming sounds
electrifying the air
dizzy landscapes lost
in the booming jam
drunken brains
deep chemistry cheeks
smoking hips fading
in mainstream dimensions
underground hypnotics
compound high blazes
complex equations
seeping physics sinking in a
lifetime of intensifying boundaries
assembling sheets flowing
in a sea of glorified grooves
a lyrical volcano erupting
into brilliant scenery
dancing diction
crystal consonants
basked in perfection
marching metaphors
lucid tambourines
drumbeating trombones
swaying saxophones
all gleaming between
the sun and Saturn
the shimmering stars and serene moon
Forgotten
- she falls apart.

She curls up on her side of an empty bed.
His memory burns her eyes as his touch had stained her skin.
She cries,
"Lord, let me hold him, one last time."

She buries her head in her pillow as she would have buried her head in his chest.
Too tired to keep fighting,
her lips barely muster the strength to whisper that she loves him,
as she says goodbye.
In a desperate attempt to alleviate her pain,
she administers herself a lethal potion of sedative-hypnotics and alcohol,
drifting her into a deep sleep
where she is no longer bound
by suffering
and freed
from the possession
of her demons.

He found her
tightly clutching her pillow.
God, if only he had told her how delicately beautiful she was.

In that moment,
he was just as broken as she
and tears tenderly flowed down his cheeks.

He walked over to her
and kissed her on her forehead.
"Lord, let me just tell her that I love her."

He sat next to her on the empty side of the bed
and held her hands in his
- one last time
a home
here with
coals 'bout
tarter there's
aflame that
mustn't rake
this world
again if
hypnotics lest
than ions
seed hygiene
while it's
really artificial
and much
pervasive in
matters of
the stars
A seed of hope
John Prophet Aug 2021
Hypnotic.
Captured
audience.
Hours
each day.
Penetrating.
Pumping
information
deep.
Deep into
the soul.
Hypnotic
manifestation.
Shaping
the populace.
Loyal zombies.
Outraged
zombies.
Garbage in.
Garbage out.
Humanity
tethered.
Tethered
to the
puppet masters
on the
other side.
Reaching
through,
straight into
the mind.
Grabbing
control.
Never before
such power.
On a global
scale.
Down
through the
ages.
History
replete
with tyrants
lusting for
control.
Tyranny
today,
in full
tech
display.
Michael Marchese Aug 2017
I teach them of the muses
And I rhyme them as I chooses
This is how I vindicate my sorrows
With etchings of trees sculpted into the sands
With mountains of elegant peace
Cascading from a boundless ocean
Of prosperity
Phantasmic *******
You know where I be
I bend steel to my will
With a stroke of the sword
I spit ancient tongues
I'm the architect the visionary
Building purpose
Defining meaning
Divining life itself you feel me
I could watch these people exist forever
I'm exotic hypnotics
Invading your mind
Yo soy el tempesto
I walk hand in hand with humanity
Just a Dionysian kid
Travis Green Oct 2018
I remember the first night
we made love on top of the
balcony, cerulean majesties
and scarlet flamed desires
drifting in drumming kingdoms,
scintillating stars shining in
timeless enchantment,
hazel tanned skin sweet and
magical, dancing beats gleefully
moving in delight, azure eyes
bold and profound, a labyrinth
of endless dimensions and soft
mechanics, a slow vibration
of waves whispering enchanting
rhythms, pure addictions sifting
inside the body and soul, as I
breathed in your brilliant hypnotics,
crystal champagne hues seeping
in the depths of various existences,
warm sensations stinging the
tongue across distant spectrums,
thumping drums, high rises vibrant
and vivid after making love.
John Prophet Sep 2023
Hypnosis.
Technological
hypnotics.
Daily.
Screen
to face.
Thumping
the mind.
Turning
the soul.
Trance
state
populace.
Buying,
drinking
the toxic
brew.
Spinning,
corkscrewing
deep.
Inner space
under
siege.
Wires
realigned.
Crossed.
Personal
beliefs
co-­opted.
Unbeknownst
shifting.
Dividing.
Pushed,
squeezing.
Anger
b­ubbling.
Overwhelming.
Confusion
reigns.
Spun into
mush.
Easily
led.
Easily
controlled.
Powers
that be.

— The End —