"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***
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
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.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
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.
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 7:06 AM UTC
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
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 10:58 AM UTC
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?
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
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.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
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...
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 8:41 AM UTC
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
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
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.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
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 ******
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC
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 –
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
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.
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
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
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
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
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
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.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
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)
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
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
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
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.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
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.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
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
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
**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.**
... ... ...
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 12:09 AM UTC
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.
Jun 16, 2022
Jun 16, 2022 at 8:11 AM UTC
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)
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 4:59 AM UTC