Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"implicitly" poems
***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Rules of Engagement
***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***
Continue reading...
69
I do remember vividly The four a.m. conversations, Feelings explained implicitly, Plans made without obligations. Toes dig into the rocks and sand As we gaze up at the bright stars. Nothing about that night was planned Though it left us with unseen scars. I remember the excitement Of my phone lighting up the night With your sweet words of enticement. The fire in me would ignite. And our flame was a bonfire That lit up the world for miles At once our warmth and our pyre. We quickly burned with our smiles.
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Bonfire
when i get lost i find myself in the most various of places as the echo of my paces reach outer spaces i delve inward like the whirlpool at the center of a ripple touching the banks of the pond and defining itself by them i am utterly interdependent externally anchored and implicitly bound to the web of meaning spun around me and when you found me lost in the most various of places as the echo of my paces reached outer spaces i delved inward and i found me, my lost self, all around me in everyone and everything else (it astounds me how the pronoun 'he' implies that which surrounds the not-so-isolated subject.) so when i found 'me' lost in the most various of places as the echo of my paces reached outer spaces i delved inward. i delved inward and saw outward myself a shard of glass reflecting and refracting the light bouncing between so many shards of glass and i shattered and i dissolved and i splattered so many dots of paint in an impressionistic painting that got smudged and delved inward. so when you found me lost in the most various of places the echo of my paces reached outer spaces. and when i delved inward i found myself outside myself. like the whirlpool at the center of a ripple.
0
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 7:06 AM UTC
i finds me
and for the first time in my life I felt loved it was like the exhilaration of free falling at terminal velocity without a parachute trusting you implicitly that with your pure heart your kindness and your words of forever you had then fashioned me wings taking your delight as you watched me soar
0
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 10:58 AM UTC
free fall
I've been meaning to write you, but my words are all too stuck in their ways. They wish to be spoken and long to be felt, but to be honest they all lack virtue. All they can do now is hurt you. Drenched in dopamine These words swim within Gasping for air   They plead for solace In the jungle of thought   They inhale agony And exhale apathy   They are jaded implicitly These words I secretly imprisoned Still inconvenience me They ******* my heart Despite their innocence I can not trust them Hence my silence Hence the look in my eyes My stomach was weak I saw novelty in every lie But to be honest   I been meaning to ask Is it too late for us?
0
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
TBH
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
0
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
For Consideration
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
Continue reading...
33
they shout. A collection of my closest friends and confidants implore, plead & demand my index finger move only inches to squeeze the trigger of the pistol. Pull the trigger! My arms are quivering-- the chain smoking hasn't helped steady the nerves. I'm having trouble looking at my victim. Pull the trigger! He's my best friend but also destroyed whatever life I had as he continues spiraling out of control. I can't focus at work, I'm afraid to go back to my own apartment-- letting him crash for a while was a bad idea. My nerves are shot, I'm emotionally drained... I'd do anything to make it stop. Pull the trigger! They keep shouting in unison-- all people I trust implicitly. They've never steered me wrong before, they sympathize, can't stand to see him erode away what's left of my life. Pull the trigger! They're right. There's nothing I can do-- what choice is left? My head vibrates from their chanting my eyes are watering a little-- thought I'd be sobbing. A deep exhale... quickly raising the gun to his head-- Pull the trigger! He's sobbing, whimpering like a wounded ***** When he looks at me, I can tell he understands and sympathizes with me. I whisper, "If you don't get the help you need-- I'm going to do what they want." After I holster the gun to stunned silence, I walk away...
0
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 8:41 AM UTC
Pull the Trigger!
pull back the thin veneer of pretense that obfuscates this holiday season profuse excuses of joy and peace are hollow and brittle and leave bitter proof of our lackluster compassion expose the specter of greed dormant in capitalism vestiges of a dying culture the refuse of an apathetic American people numb to the trauma inflicted by megalomaniacal leaders consent given implicitly in the complacency of obedient conformity will we refuse to acknowledge the stains on our hands this Christmas red liquid misting our faces bloodlust and endless war there’s no rhyme or reason to these sycophantic intonations deafening these words of treason in vain attempts to assuage guilt with endless iterations of false hopes and puny gods in brainless trying to defy reality we belie our true intentions our self-serving obsessions and inane consumption hazes of the mundane   in suburban graves if the greatest gift is giving itself we won’t find solace in the holy temples of strip malls shopping centers and corporate retail palaces a Friday as black as our fractured hearts witness the death of humanity choking out all we were grateful for the day before
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
choke
And you remind me of every person I know and love. If you can live long enough, Life will teach you how to live, And in the moment we'll grow. And all I can give Is nothing more than the truth As we reap what we sow. I guess it's true what they say, You live and learn, Misguided youth now we wait and burn, I guess it's true that it's easier to fake than it is to actually do. The devil disguised in the roots, I watched him grow inside of you. Inspite of you, I was inspired by you, But I was just passing through, Transparent apparently on a path led with tangled leaves, Tread into the ground. I guess it's true that were bounded by love. As the seasons changed so did the reasons to fall. And I fell for you implicitly, like rain drops from clouds.
0
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
Opia
I am ****** and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of. No I am more the twisted mess of forced misconception enlightened by time innocence forgot forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told Yeah, it's the end of life as I know it that's the kind of ****** I am I knew joy it was based on trust in what was true I knew love it was built on that same foundation So yes, I am ****** this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance is anything but blissful and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying not that dying is beautiful, though it can be but of the death of beautiful things of things I found implicitly lovely the painful dying of all I believed was good I am so ****** sideways protected by others I can no longer say for certain who I am or who I believe myself to be ****** hard and unrecognizable ***** into truth by the kindness of others No more questions because I am ****** that way too no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry I knew love once now all I love, I question reliving my choices in reasons why trying to piece together my life had I always known trying to define how I love by my own definitions and not by what I knew love to be because that love never existed only in my ****** shattered memory So, hey guess what I used to love you now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks I'm still me But boy am I ******
0
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC
I AM ****** (adult, explicit)
I am ****** and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of. No I am more the twisted mess of forced misconception enlightened by time innocence forgot forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told Yeah, it's the end of life as I know it that's the kind of ****** I am I knew joy it was based on trust in what was true I knew love it was built on that same foundation So yes, I am ****** this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance is anything but blissful and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying not that dying is beautiful, though it can be but of the death of beautiful things of things I found implicitly lovely the painful dying of all I believed was good I am so ****** sideways protected by others I can no longer say for certain who I am or who I believe myself to be ****** hard and unrecognizable ***** into truth by the kindness of others No more questions because I am ****** that way too no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry I knew love once now all I love, I question reliving my choices in reasons why trying to piece together my life had I always known trying to define how I love by my own definitions and not by what I knew love to be because that love never existed only in my ****** shattered memory So, hey guess what I used to love you now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks I'm still me But boy am I ******
Continue reading...
49
mostly undiagnosed ghosts host coast roasts and no one shows haunted wind blows going slow dethroning grown men being sown unknown gnomes debone stones throwing plumbs at scrub jays whilst listless fitness ****** insist on resisting mystic visions implicitly – ragtag gag gifts for bags smoking **** with saggy pants chancing protagonists and prancing fisters wrist rocket **** pocket time, clock it rock it sock it don’t mock interlocking bicarbonates wait for the ingrate to ********** and regulate the regurgitation – ****** ancestrally protestors digest their disgust discussing muskrats as lab cats basking in the glow of white coats –
0
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
trash in stacks
If I start to write a poem, will I finish it this time Or will I give up midway through, because there aren't enough rhymes In this old dreadful, awful language born of brutal feudal swine Wearing wigs and pantaloons, and saying words like 'thee' and 'thine'? If I have a hazy thought, will I succeed in making clear, That murky bit of intuition felt, or will it disappear, The minute I put ink to paper and begin to toy around With all the scattered bits of insight that implicitly abound? If I find myself inspired all the sudden by a muse, Will she hastily retire before I can spread the news Of all her wondrous gifts to me, that I so luckily did capture In a transcendental state of exaltation, joy, and rapture? If I have a vivid vision, flowing freer than the stream Of a river, clear as crystal, and as dazzling as a dream Will my will be of such power that I'll succeed to convey It, or just fall flat in defeat and then retreat into dismay? If I see sumptuous fruits that hang atop the mighty tree That's down the road of human intellect and creativity Will my reach extend sufficiently to gather them and bring Them back into...into... oh, **** it! I can't think of anything.                                                 (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
0
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
Try Not To Fail...
Valentines, yeah, I've had a few Secret admirers? dozens Broken hearts? A couple of those too. Crazy adventures? Oh, Plenty! Blessings, too many to count, Miracles certainly! But, nothing, nothing compares to you My love, the best part of my best days The highest of my highs In my darkest days And longest nights You make me come alive! I know implicitly, You are the one the title is yours
0
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
All I need is your love to survive
Culminating capacity Daunting density Varying velocity Variable veracity Surging sagacity Divulging diversity Tenable tenacity Laudable audacity Nurturing nicety Progressive propensity Unified university Simple implicitly Ample simplicity Undulating atrocity Unassailable animosity Scaring scarcity Pausing paucity Causing curiosity Generating generosity Magnificent mega-city Multitude of multiplicity Pervading perplexity Wow! City of complexity
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
City of complexity
a quart of tequila, still no feelings, spinning ceilings beneath me, in my venomous state, we went to comedy night at the viper room. torn to shreds in the front row, of a gung ** americanised show. i came because the river still flows, with depp and the stageshows from the whiskey a go go, directly opposite the pavement. the boulevard was full of cars, and homeless superstars, that made it far, but not past the stars on the walk of fame, Holly would never be the same again. ******* ******* we walked past the cast of a bottomless flask, cast in the shadows of the sorrows of rodeo drive, staying alive is easy, follow, the yellow brick road and wish for a dollar. tomorrow is another day. i seen a man of my same age, he was a traveller, vocabular immaculate, hair cut ****** dindn’t shave much, one of the same touch. grubby hands and unfinished plans. his sign said, were ****** i teared up, he looked up and stood up and we hugged. i could see me in his weird look. just another rhyme in my page book. i gave him a bag of survival necessities, i hunted him down after 24 hours. i was worried to go back, and finish what i started. i consider the concept as an artist, but the truth is this, the humanist within, could never miss that appointment. he sat there in the same spot, and if i didn’t come, he could of lost faith in the promise of a circumstance. i took a certain stance, he said he was a traveller, a poet with grubby hands, i held him with open arms. i don’t worry about him, i worry about you, a ***** and the truth, trumps and mansion and no use. i’ve read between the lines, and wrote this motion on tightropes and suspended emotion. they want a showman, but when we show them the ocean, the don’t want to know the deepest minds inclined. absolutley, mutiny in the ranks, my heart sank when you decided to revamp, your opinion of me implicitly. minor to me, skeleton key to multiple routes. i never gave a **** about your opinions then, and I certainly don't give a **** now, nor have i ever, stared the gift horse in the mouth.
0
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Never Stare A Gift Horse In The Mouth
a quart of tequila, still no feelings, spinning ceilings beneath me, in my venomous state, we went to comedy night at the viper room. torn to shreds in the front row, of a gung ** americanised show. i came because the river still flows, with depp and the stageshows from the whiskey a go go, directly opposite the pavement. the boulevard was full of cars, and homeless superstars, that made it far, but not past the stars on the walk of fame, Holly would never be the same again. ******* ******* we walked past the cast of a bottomless flask, cast in the shadows of the sorrows of rodeo drive, staying alive is easy, follow, the yellow brick road and wish for a dollar. tomorrow is another day. i seen a man of my same age, he was a traveller, vocabular immaculate, hair cut ****** dindn’t shave much, one of the same touch. grubby hands and unfinished plans. his sign said, were ****** i teared up, he looked up and stood up and we hugged. i could see me in his weird look. just another rhyme in my page book. i gave him a bag of survival necessities, i hunted him down after 24 hours. i was worried to go back, and finish what i started. i consider the concept as an artist, but the truth is this, the humanist within, could never miss that appointment. he sat there in the same spot, and if i didn’t come, he could of lost faith in the promise of a circumstance. i took a certain stance, he said he was a traveller, a poet with grubby hands, i held him with open arms. i don’t worry about him, i worry about you, a ***** and the truth, trumps and mansion and no use. i’ve read between the lines, and wrote this motion on tightropes and suspended emotion. they want a showman, but when we show them the ocean, the don’t want to know the deepest minds inclined. absolutley, mutiny in the ranks, my heart sank when you decided to revamp, your opinion of me implicitly. minor to me, skeleton key to multiple routes. i never gave a **** about your opinions then, and I certainly don't give a **** now, nor have i ever, stared the gift horse in the mouth.
Continue reading...
67
1 dearest readers online be forewarned when you read a poem there may be irony ahead and if you don't look out yes, it can be like you've run against an iron pole smack bang against the forehead (which may not matter if you're Ironhead) but if you're anything like me flesh and blood and heart - Ouch! It can more than hurt!) 2 be forewarned also when you read a poem it can be like driving in a school zone when the kids are going home - so watch out: *irony may be walking with persona and the literal with metaphor and maybe a figurative pig round the corner and sarcasm hand in hand with opposite-of-what's-being-said* 3 so do drive alert eyes open, mind open when in Poetry Land O most intelligent reader for you never know in the thoroughfare of poetry who you might just bump into: *Mr Alternative; Mr So-in-your-face; Ms I-Want-to-Talk-About-God-Yet-Again; Vicar There's-No-Bloody-God; Mr and Mrs Moralist; Mr and Mrs Hey-Let's-Have-Sex-While-at-Poetry like-they-do-in-the-back-seats-at-the-movies* - and so on, you know: It can be like being Alice in Wonderland with the Mad Hatter but you got to keep your sanity for company yep, stay alert or you might just crash your Reading 4 An Afterthought and I know wise reader all the above might make me sound like Mr-know-all but hey! - modesty's never been the poet's professional trait (you must think about that - cos even the poet devoted entirely to Subjects Divine and Holy and of Such Lofty Things and exuding sweet humility is ****** arrogant - cos they do implicitly or explicitly claim they know what really matters, while you or I don't)
0
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
warning: irony and others ahead
1 dearest readers online be forewarned when you read a poem there may be irony ahead and if you don't look out yes, it can be like you've run against an iron pole smack bang against the forehead (which may not matter if you're Ironhead) but if you're anything like me flesh and blood and heart - Ouch! It can more than hurt!) 2 be forewarned also when you read a poem it can be like driving in a school zone when the kids are going home - so watch out: *irony may be walking with persona and the literal with metaphor and maybe a figurative pig round the corner and sarcasm hand in hand with opposite-of-what's-being-said* 3 so do drive alert eyes open, mind open when in Poetry Land O most intelligent reader for you never know in the thoroughfare of poetry who you might just bump into: *Mr Alternative; Mr So-in-your-face; Ms I-Want-to-Talk-About-God-Yet-Again; Vicar There's-No-Bloody-God; Mr and Mrs Moralist; Mr and Mrs Hey-Let's-Have-Sex-While-at-Poetry like-they-do-in-the-back-seats-at-the-movies* - and so on, you know: It can be like being Alice in Wonderland with the Mad Hatter but you got to keep your sanity for company yep, stay alert or you might just crash your Reading 4 An Afterthought and I know wise reader all the above might make me sound like Mr-know-all but hey! - modesty's never been the poet's professional trait (you must think about that - cos even the poet devoted entirely to Subjects Divine and Holy and of Such Lofty Things and exuding sweet humility is ****** arrogant - cos they do implicitly or explicitly claim they know what really matters, while you or I don't)
Continue reading...
65
Culminating capacity Daunting density Varying velocity Variable veracity Surging sagacity Divulging diversity Tenable tenacity Laudable audacity Nurturing nicety Progressive propensity Unified university Simple implicitly Ample simplicity Undulating atrocity Unassailable animosity Scaring scarcity Pausing paucity Causing curiosity Generating generosity Magnificent mega-city Multitude of multiplicity Wow! City of complexity
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
City of Complexity
I want to hold her. Sometimes I wish to curve myself onto every inch of her wild body. We share a skin-ship, and it is because of this that tension arises. We casually breed an exotic essence, a colorful blend of warm, unbidden hues. From an outside perspective it cannot, will not be understood. We have both succeeded in the task of draining each other's sanity; She because I am needy, (Constantly pulling and pushing); And I because she is stubborn -- She is like the iron strings of a freshly bounded Acoustic guitar. To have such a person as my muse, I cannot tell whether I am blessed, or if I am hexed beyond all compare. It is not that I am in love with her, or her golden-flecked vermilion tresses. I simply, implicitly feel the need to explore her. It is I who implores her bold ambiguity, whilst she stands bare to my artistry.
0
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
The sun is far from unattainable:
spoiler alert: #implicitly mature, in some way...# TAKE 1 a bench. a garden. the guy: *yeah, *** to **** my way through, so, i'll be on my way.* the girl: (silence). close-up: the guy, his back. fade. TAKE 2 a car. in the front seats. no sun set. the girl: yeah, but it is not worth it, so. the guy: yeah. panoramic: a street. cars passing by. TAKE 3 total darkness. a voice whispers a scream. the guy: *why can't i **** you?!* the girl: (silence). total darkness. the guy again. TAKE 4 a river. a wooden fence. the girl. leaning. close-up: her hands. the girl: (silence). her hands. a cat comes by. the cat moves away. panoramic: the river, the back of the girl. high noon. no shadows.
0
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
cyclorama: "i, valentine"
You were the first tomb I ever knew. Sweet sixteen, All tangled up in you. You carried me like a chariot, I know now how hard it was, to bring me up on your own, Seventeen, child teething and broken evenings when you could of been day dreaming or on the scene - if it wasn't for your love for me. Implicitly so pretty, Eighteen years old as I crawled and drew on the walls with lipstick red, and painted the toenails of my father - with you, only for you. There was plenty of places we had lived in ice cream castles together and you were only twenty three, when I was seven. So many lessons learnt and fingers burnt as I grew up in a fairytale together on fairywell road. Me and you together, only for you. Then you got married and I was your baggage but you carried me so strong but I developed bad habits, by the time you were my age now. At twenty nine, I was a teenager. How did you do what you did for me, I'll never know. I just know I couldn't do the same and you maintained your allure, class and dignity and nature of the finest kind, Only for you, my queen without a crown. And now you may be forty six and I live miles away, I'm 29 and been awake for days I still miss you each day, And you gave me a new family, A brother and sister and a role model too, It was only for me and it was only for you. Now I hope you're proud and I'm never surprised when you forgive my sins through my puppy dog eyes. Only for you. Only for you X
0
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
For you
**You captured my heart, I admit it caught in your spell, I'm bewitched I reached out my hand and you held it adrift, lost at sea, I was saved. My gaze you enslaved, and I love it filling my eyes with delight in touching my life, you enriched it enchanting my days with your smile.** ...   ...   ...
0
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 12:09 AM UTC
... Implicitly Yours ...
i have taken sight of her in all of her forms every corner and curve and i have never seen anything so implicitly beautiful in my entire existence i have seen her with outstretched arms receive the drizzling tears the rain bleeds out on a sunday morning i have seen her body draped across the horizon basking in the warmth of the unforgiving april sun i have seen her blush at the sight of rosy pink skies cascading on her cheeks i have heard her sing when the zephyrs brush the strings of her eyelids. the first time and all the times after, this encounter, i will tuck it safely in the pockets of my memory until death calls for my last breath.
0
Jun 16, 2022
Jun 16, 2022 at 8:11 AM UTC
the creek
It would be so wonderful to be loved to have someone to hold me close to trust them implicitly to give me hope and liberty Would that be much to ask to find someone that would love me yet I dwell in the back waters of despair where only newts and frogs on lilies care My marshland so cold, with razor blade reeds the squeaking of mice that fall by the waters edge drowning and sinking to the dark depths Do not pity me for I am a creature of the swamp and will forfeit my desires I will always want By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris © 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
0
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 4:59 AM UTC
My Marshland