"infusing" poems
Be my novel tonight
Allow me to navigate the depths of your thoughts
and journey through the pathways of your mind while
merging in my imagination and infusing in my wildest
poetic fantasies. Inscribing in our bedpost an
unforgettable bestseller.
Be my music tonight
Let me groove to the beat of your heart picking up pace
as I explore new ways to invoke melodious outbursts. I
want to sing a duet with you of synchronized moans and
pleasurable sighs. Culminating with you belting out my
name in one final perfect note.
Be my masterpiece tonight
Permit me to trace my fingertips across every inch of
your frame as I find your sensually stimulating spots.
Armed with new knowledge and intent, sit back as I
stroke you with my brushes of desire and take you on a
creative adventure of twists and turns as I bring to life my finest
work of art and watch with all anticipation your love erupt.
© Tina Thompson
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
the tectonic plates
in me
are shifting
as our continents
approach collide
my ocean is
getting closer
to the mountains
on your landscape
tallest grasses blowing
in wild demon dance,
shaking their
heads as heated
storm approaches
oven-baked air crackling
with its own
electric currents
Nothing can stop it
it's a magnetic force
one to be
reckoned with
surrendered to
as dust foams
like ocean froth
around our heads
clinging to us in tiny
starlit fragments
and soon will come
the slick dive into
wordless waters,
just skin on skin
slippery mouth muscles
like entwined snakes
flick-flicking, shiny
in eye-lit cherry moons
Take my hand.
Just pull me in.
Enfold me,
without talking
watch as my aura
rushes into you,
first a delicate whisk
of cool light
to slake the thirst
of coal-licked caverns
then sparks
and bubbling oxidation
turning into liquid brushfire
Hold your palm
to my chest,
as if to keep
my heart steady,
my glowing flare of halo
pressed into your
clavicle, taking in
the embryonic beats
soothing my torrid ache,
infusing minerals
in vitamin-laced libation
It is time to simply bask
in the new
crispness of radical
shake off
the silt and salt
and rise up
into the spheres
of memory
of soulspeak
of collapsed time zones
budded breath
spiraling up
in curls,
diaphanous
dark mist
ascending
into
light
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
Young love,
Bitten by the Rose’s thorn
Giving the lovers’ their first blush
Powerful imagery stirring memories
Of first love, of true love
There was a time when
He would have suffered
Her pain as his own
So connected were they
That even in dreams they were one
Sadly, Rose’s thorn
Left its poison behind
And betrayal cut
Deep and true
Its ravaged scars
Leaving an indelible stain
Upon their souls
Bonds torn asunder
Young love’s blush
Turned scarlet red
How I yearn to warn the lovers
Of the Rose’s devious ways
Slyly infusing their love
With betrayal’s bitter pain
For in that moment
When they thought
Love was won…
Well, I guess that’s why
First love’s wound
Colors forever one’s love
Kelly Rose
© January 27, 2017
This poem was inspired by an image - The Thorn by Charles West. Here is a link to the portrait is you wish to view it.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Charles_West_Cope_-_The_Thorn.jpg
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
For you have betrayed
The Dark Angel.
I was bound to have loved you.
Your words invite me,
Unite me,
And still betray me.
Is this how you repay me!
Say you will stay with
Me until death,
Just one life time.
Your voice calls to me,
Unites us within my dreams,
But you have drawn back
Within fear.
In all my fantasies
I have always knew,
The angel above was you.
Your power grows very strong
Over me infusing me with desire.
The desire to love,
To love the angel.
With this fallacy instilled
Within my dreams you
Still betrayed me, my angel.
Why my angel,
Why is it that
You have betrayed me.
I the dark angel had needed you,
You the angel of the night.
You shall curse the day you
Betrayed the dark angel.
To many years fighting
Back the tears,
And now my blood,
Nears to an end.
You my angel shall
Turn to meet your fate.
The time is too late,
There is no debate,
No way to change your fate.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
I apoligize for not reading your posts. I have been battling my depression and have not been online . I have written a poem about it (of course lol). I hope you enjoy and I hope to be online tomorrow.
My Dark Tale (A Sestina)
It is a lovely time of day for tea
As I sit curled up to the song of rain
Memories arise of a deep dark pain
Storm clouds gather within my heart, darkly
Dimly, I am aware of rainbow’s hope
Wanting dreams infused with Rosemary and Thyme
Out of work, I suffer from too much time
Overeating and drinking too much tea
Depression worsens, stealing all my hope
And all my dreams shatter in the cold rain
Leaving me empty in the bitter dark
As I stare out of the broken windowpane
How I long to conquer my bitter pain
If only I would organize my time
I know then, I would rise above the dark
Instead, I get caught in cookies and tea
And sink deeper; chaos supremely reigns
I flounder once again, losing my hope
I am tired of losing precious hope
Letting despair and worthless bitter pain
To take control and determinedly reign
Structure! Will that allow me to use time
Positively? Cutting back on black tea
Getting needed sleep to fight back the dark
Rested, I can push back the hated dark
Strive to capture peace and beautiful hope
Learning once again to enjoy my tea
And not as a crutch that causes me pain
While I mourn the loss of wasted sweet time
Instead, I would see rainbows in the rain
I yearn to topple depression’s long reign,
To walk in the sun’s light, not the cold dark
Eager to greet the day and enjoy time
Pursue my dreams, infusing life with hope
Do away with doldrums and bitter pain
Relaxing and enjoying Earl Gray Tea
Envoi
To sum up, I yearn to enjoy my tea
Overcome my darkness and pain; to feel hope
While I take time to enjoy the sweet rain
Kelly Rose
© January 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
Locked in your fiery eyes i submit
naked, **** exposed to be exploited
by Your will i lay before you awaiting....
to begin Our intimacy
wanton to please
Breathing in the anticipation
i am frozen by Your hesitation
for i crave
Your touch,
Your lips,
Your embrace
in every rise of my *******
breathing deep
my thoughts creep
and time slows
In Your soul, i wish to peek...
Behind the lurking darkness in Your eyes
Is it love or lust hidden in disguise
i acquiesce
my forbidden fruit i wish to bare
the entrance to my sacred chambers
ripe with carnal desire
may it be Your pleasure
To imprint Your sting
forever seared
upon my redden flesh
so that it lingers in tenderness
long after Our journey
Your caress against my flesh
in piercing pleasure resonates
up the curvature of my spine
releasing infinite electric butterflies
i cannot hide
You plunge deep below the surface
infusing Our bodies as One
rhythmically in motion
edging each crest before plunging
deeper into the next
into the depths of brazen hunger
i want to surrender
though my growl cannot be hidden
‘neath the rumble of my heighten instinct
to soar in expletive exclamation
my animal within
my pounded thighs spread wider
below pulsating muscles
beating louder, harder, deeper
my cavity contracts
howling in blazed heat
i scream
through my glare
into Your eyes
of consent again, release me
in the allowance of your’s
entwined
Allow me to feel you
as you fill me
emotions untethered
in Your mind
Your body and spirit
The rapture of Your release
i capture
in my mind
my body and soul
anchored to my memory
Our journey
In gaping breath
We fall ...
Entangled in blissful euphoria
Your shivering body envelopes mine
a sweet embrace
a tender kiss
long has it been since I’ve felt such passion
i admit...
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
Shade giving Sentinels
Custodians of the environment
Infusing oxygenated life
Extending canopies of bliss!
A fine interplay of synthesising solar photons
Food factories to the plant
Self sustainable gifts from the Almighty God!
Bemoan Human apathy
Fragile relations with humankind
Exponential signs of human induced Ecocide!
Oh Humankind!
Oh Humankind!
Wake up to a Nature’s clarion call
Embrace Mother Earths Sentinels
Tree Huggers of the World
Unite in Unison and Eco harmony
Save Trees!
Save Trees!
Cherish God’s Nature
Permeate Environmental Euphony
Demolish reckless Infrastructural Cacophony !!!
Biospherically Yours Forever 🙏🏻
@Nitin Raikar
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 2:31 PM UTC
they tell me I'm made of dust
as though a slight gust
could blow me apart
As if the beating wasn't just my heart
but a maze of particles
infusing every article
dead and blown away
they tell me ill return to ashes
like i was made of ashes in the first place
like instead of thoughts it was just space
that your hand on my heart wasn't what kept it apace
but just science in the ashes
in the dust
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
~
*When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,
and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),
of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,
the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,
and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,
mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul*
~
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 2:45 PM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Up went the roar of the crowd,
Ascending, volumes above, beyond
The everyday murmur of pestering silence.
A futile struggle to withstand its force,
Like a vast wave, rogue and raging,
Slamming nature, a slap in the face of feebleness,
This crowd roars…
Not anger, not anguish, or grief,
But a prideful scream of declaration;
The masses make it known, and known again,
Fists raised, pulverizing the air to a beat
Of human design, of togetherness, of solidarity
In the fight for those like us, a howl,
This crowd roars…
Stampeding feet berate the beaten earth,
Invigorated legs supporting pounding hearts,
To a beat, rolling with the flow,
Energy infusing the soul, encased in flesh, bone, and blood;
Marching onward, forward, processional strides
Declaring and making it known with battle cries,
This crowd roars…
Shouts of proclamation echo the strident resistance
With thunder, earth-quaking, walls crumbling, chains shattering
With thunder, dancing against the discordant system;
Proud warriors raising flags of protest
Amidst the roar, roister, and riots, rising reactionaries
Refusing submission, declining resignation,
This crowd roars…
Bounded together, by blood, by common cause,
Mingling masses of forgotten arise with a vocal
Outcry, intense, pulsing from the core (of us)
Like an infestation, infuriated, a torrent swarm (of us)
Flowing upwards, eroding all obstructions.
Declare, proclaim, announce, request, demand,
This crowd roars…
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Creating illusions from reality
Infusing dreams with serenity
Casting away from this catastrophe
Remembering your mortality
Seeking love seem inevitably
Losing you would be such tragedy
Would you follow me in this fantasy
Which I created for you, eternity.
©2013 Maman Screams
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
in a tea house
a jasmine girl
plays a piano
shimmering a
song of soft keys
to a lotus blush
of fine infusing leaves.
morning, the jewels
of dawn’s filigree nets
a summer storm
in a wintry sky
coaxed out of
a melody of
incense, trembling
to the infinite
blossom of
tranquil, arching
skies.
your poetry, the
cadences of the sun
unwrapped,
the light of the
ocean
breathed
in,
beautiful moons
that weep for
life’s joys,
wild summer
in our hearts.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
*Nature wakes up with a smile
Beginning of morning twilight
Red sun peeking from the horizon
There is a blush in the sky
Excited, to wake up the admirers
To settle down to a temperate day
A buoyant heart, smiling within
A faint smile takes over my stupor
Infusing faith in me to face the day*
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
The sakura whispers
with the softness of first light,
but it burgeons,
as all brave hearts do,
it drapes its limbs
in the tender cradle of the breeze,
sending roots deep
to clutch the heart of the earth.
And when it blooms,
oh, how it blooms,
with the ferocity
of a love that refuses silence,
as if it alone
were chosen to guard
the fragile blush
of dawn,
its petals holding
the light,
infusing its essence
as it reaches for the sky,
yearning for the sun's warmth
and the rain's solace.
Sakura hesitates
in the moment before unfolding,
for it knows
that beauty unfolds in its own sacred time -
Life is a tender whisper
in the vastness,
and to blossom at all
is an act of divine grace.
Feb 28, 2024
Feb 28, 2024 at 10:10 PM UTC
what is this
the sound of a voice
a faint crackle
over the line
burning icicle dipped
into ink of my dark
zipped in a fracture
through space
woven in time
the sound of it
penetrates
a heated
arctic zing
of light
into the soul
and your words
caress places that
would not be reached
in life's daily hold
I would look into your eyes
my blues to yours
two vast oceans
never ending
This might express
the divinity
of the word "love"
This might express
a fraction of the feeling
and this alone
could be all consuming
but the real expression
would be my mouth
devouring yours
my tongue
exploring your lips
and all that's inside
my starlight
infusing your being
as we press into
the silken matter
as the levity of skin
that brushes like silk
as your actual saliva
and ***
are my nourishment,
like heaven's milk
and our cells
ignite in slow movement
as we gasp and sigh
the air around us
invisible velvet
I want beyond
internet
I want beyond
a small, mirrored screen
I need to drink your luster
as we inhale the soft, molten folds
as we break open
and drink deep
inner liquids
as we crack
and the flow of the
electric river
slides
through
and within,
intermingling
auras tingling
Just take me,
already
let me feel the imprint
of your fingers
upon my wrists
let your kisses mark
my secret spaces
Rush into me
as a river
before we
simultaneously
combust
for if I have to hear your
vocal chords
one more time
I will
explode
into
fragments
of
crystallized
dust
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
茶
Cruciform character; flowering daughter of orient Wisdom’s delight
A hymn to thee, beloved bush and Tree of Life, I raise.
May thy plucked leaves forevermore renew their gracious budding
Even as thy captured progeny produce, in death, thy praise
Like captive Hebrew exiles driven far from Zion’s hill
Loving still their Judge and punisher, recalling golden days…
In this cup of glorious elixir, infusing life with cheer
Asia’s attributes unveil, while I upon her marvels gaze.
Serenity enfolding, I forget all those before
In a rapturous caress I swiftly yield to her embraces
Nevermore to recall the ****** bean of Abyssinian lore
Ethiopian witch and desert hag, dark seed of nomadic races!
Now I hail the truth, whose leaf I love: L’chaim to the brew I adore
So sit with me and sip some cha. Let us kiss her myriad faces.
I scribe these lines in gratitude to that plant who soothes and inspires
Sweet Camellia, my love… I read in the leaves
your ascending triumphant traces.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
all black is the calmest gesture
alluring - inviting, kindly asking to stay away
the streets were filled with chest's that explode with art
a woman walks by with her ex-lover
she looks at him when he does not pay attention
she wishes he would rest in peace
upon leaves that fell from the tree they grew together
I stare at my fingers stained with red wine
I stare at lips stained with red wine
I do not want to kiss them
we walked into one gallery, filled with color
lingering too explosive for me at the moment
I wanted something slow
that creeps through the blood like injecting a needle
something subtle, infused with a hiding passion
penetrating and brutal
instilling hope
regaining fear
grieved by reality
stolen by the ethereal
I wanted to experience something that stirred in my chest
moving around my arms and back hungrily
looking for something that was lost, or perhaps never there
wild emotion in the shape of a snake infusing me
with a poison that is too sweet to ******
and too bitter to live through
I walked these streets, passed by these galleries
in a desperate attempt to seek this inspiration
this rage
this entity
this sadness
this satisfaction
this sensitivity
this coldness
this shame
this pride
I left with the feeling of being hallow
and realized perhaps that which I seek
perhaps cannot be found in a painting
or a photograph
cannot be mastered in physical form
that foreign sensation that starves
that foreign sensation that fills you like a glass of wine
is sleeping in the eyes of another person
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 1:03 AM UTC
*Darling, your face is my favourite
The afterglow of eventide
Flashing golden brown
On your cheek
Pulsating vibrancy
Infusing placidity,
Lucidity
Into my anarchy suffused heart
My very being awash in tenderness
That which you exhale
Darling, you are my most indulgent narcotic*
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
The Broken Leg !!..
This morning I saw my replica in the mirror
Talking to me, he said-
Watching you today feels like a Bird without wings,
He is trying to find me
Recalling the good old days
When I never skipped a moment
To reach a new milestone daily
Longing to see me with the same old pace
Just like the fresh foamed waterfall marching towards the sea
With a constant flow seeking its way to join the infinite bundle of adventure.
Stun was I with the words that I just heard from the facing
Look at the fate of uncertainty
Here I sit with my broken leg.
As I recall the memories of my childhood
Flashing fast-food like an indelible movie
The
Rising Water,
Those dazzling Eyes,
And the sudden catastrophe
The broken sobbing Voice pleads for help
Yet nobody comes forward lend me a helping hand
I Pause my life
To witness my shattered dreams every moment
Reminding me of the tripped numbness
Yet I am still alive with my broken leg!
Infusing myself to muster the lost courage
Thirsting to set myself free from the artificial shackles
Marching towards the purpose of my existence.
-Chirayu.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
*ink of sky inhabits her eyes
essence of serenity almondine
so spanish in silvern adornment
though her soul is hafnium pierced
a haven for both life and death
embodiment of artistic expression
openly hooded in earlobe spirituality
nominally patrician by disposition
my source stirs in futile disarray
kindred energy infusing the moment
a tree appears on a barren landscape
devoid of foliage, vivaciously rooting*
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
I sit beneath the tree
As the breeze blows stale
Infusing sweat in every breath
Stealing the air and turning it wet
Almost too thick to breathe
No birds fly and nothing crawls
Ice melts at the thought of entering my glass
Yet, there you are
Doing things men do
Tending and fixing and mowing
Skin too sticky to touch
The outdoors melts to your flesh
Slow roasted and juices flowing
There you remain
Doing what needs doing
As I, too melted to move
Sit beneath the tree
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
To see the abnormal in the usual
To spy a quaint sliver of seperation
A stutter of fluidity; fluidity primary
The unknown subjection personified
These idealistic constructions forever permeating
Where currents join in twitching pools, swaying
to let their particles cloister and vibrate with
infusing spasms that dispel and attract-
Creating the magnetism of substance
Blank resound bliss
Drunk on a thousand drops
Vindicated from a thousand poisons
Reborn
at grid dot
Flowing invoice implode
All afterward foreshadowing
Being this precursor
Not an equation to be witnessed with
the surgical pangs of intellect
Arbitrary
Problematic
Instigative
None of this
Something ness
Of the womb sea
Blank resound bliss
without tributaries
though sensing its leaks
After Big Bang of suitor system silt
Wanton to multiply
Rabid and violent
In conquest
of joy and earth
What I bring to light
My depths are dark
Empty is the surface
Empty is my sleep
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC