"insinuating" poems
I.
the emperor
sleeps in a palace of porphyry
which was a million years building
he takes the air in a howdah
of jasper beneath saffron
umbrellas
upon an elephant
twelve foot high
behind whose ear
sits always a crowned
king twir-
ling an
ankus of
ebony
the fountains of the emperor’s
palace run sunlight and
moonlight and the emperor’s
elephant is a thousand years old
the harem of
the emperor
is carpeted with
gold cloth
from the
ceiling(one
diamond timid
with nesting incense)
fifty
marble
pillars
slipped from immeasurable
height,fall,fifty,silent
in the incense is tangled a cool moon
there are thrice-three-hundred
doors carven of chalcedony and
before every door a naked
****** watches
on their heads turbans of a hundred
colours
in their hands scimitars like windy torches
each
is
blacker than oblivion
the ladies
of the emperor’s
harem are queens
of all the earth and the rings
upon their hands are from mines
a mile deep
but the body of
the queen of queens is
more transparent
than water,she is softer than birds
2.
when the emperor is very
amorous he reclines upon
the couch of couches and
beckons with
the little
finger of his left
hand
then the
thrice-three-hundredth
door is opened by the tallest
****** and the queen
of queens comes
forth
ankles
musical with large pearls
kingdoms in her ears
at the feet of
the emperor a cithern-
player squats with
quiveringgold
body
behind
the emperor ten
elected warriors with
bodies of lazy jade
and twitching
eyelids
finger
their
unquiet
spears
the queen of queens is dancing
her subtle
body weaving
insinuating upon the gold cloth
incessantly creates patterns of sudden
lust
her
stealing body ex-
pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS
to a
white thorn
of desire
the taut neck of the citharede wags
in the dust the ghastly warriors
amber with lust breathe
together the emperor,exerting
himself among his pillows throws
jewels at the queen of queens and
white money upon her nakedness
he
nods
and all
depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls
3.
they are
alone
he beckons,she rises she
stands
a moment
in the passion of the fifty
pillars
listening
while the queens of all the
earth writhe upon deep rugs
11.2k
this is the first time i ate
a watermelon, like i did today...
it's going way back
back to the times we
were apparently apes...
so there's this gorilla
sitting on a windowsill,
with diced watermelon pulp...
oh wait, what's in his bowl?
the outer-layer,
including the hard skin
of the watermelon...
you're ********
he's eating that too?
what, ever see a gorilla
peel a banana to get a
babushka jew-head out
from the outer layer?
(insinuating circumcision)
gorilla eats the whole thing!
and he's sitting there,
insinuating: fibre...
excess chewing,
keeps the dentist away...
so between chewing on the outer
layer of the watermelon
(including the hard skin) -
he drops pieces of diced watermelon
pulp into his gob, to water
the chewing dynamic...
what? you do it with apples
and pears, and cherries, and grapes...
the gorilla says:
fun experience...
intermission of a gulp of beer...
it's hard to imagine a gorilla
being the size that he is,
having the cullinary skills
of saying: oi! oi!
don't fry that plantain!
eat it raw!
half an hour it took him to chew
through the red pulp and the outer
layer...
and he thought:
**** as painful on the jaws
as i might have chewed a gum
for 2 hours.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
Save My Soul, (But First), Rub My Feet
thus a poem auditorialy conceived,
but!
the sexuality of the deceiving dualities,
irritates erogenous, exogenous perceptiveties,
plethora of intensifying variables, a not-serious,
harmless remark yet bring us to myriad of
marauding reversals, add-venturing into harm’s way…
much to discuss, but this
topic bettered by much
trading of traditional bantering
brevity bettering our wordless battering
insinuating, sensational signals bring
us backwards & forwards
to an exploratorium of wide boulevards
back to new unfamiliar venues,
narrowing alleyways & places we were before,
places before we were before where,
no unnecessary commas to separate,
distingué, distinct
tween the instinct of old and new,
an uncommon commonality experiential revisionism
now I understand what you said to me,
a tenderizing of
the sole synapses directing
the brain, the old ooh ‘s, aah’s
reigniting what what lay dormant,
at long last,
by opening doors to alternations,
ven diagram of digressing yet intersecting
old & new pathways,
from the souls of her feet,
to, too, two,
we become diamond
on souls of our heat
May 30, 2023
May 30, 2023 at 4:50 PM UTC
Face of MADNESS , gather your twisted strength
Stench like sadness? (Do)n't confuse, its greatness
Sway through the fractures and disjointedness
Disembodied manifestation, useless phenomenon
S(cul)p(ture)s hammered into DisFuRme/nt
Castrate salient pieces of that body
Spew inhuman lexicon insinuating i-n/co\here/nce
Slaughter the (harm)ony within cadence
Screech! H o w l! Growl!
Rel(easing) murderous miseries within infected entr[ails]
R A G E, count{less} bullets turning fl{ashes} of sanity to CAD(AVE)R(S)
De[generate] ripping throat of conscio(us)ness
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
You’d have better luck storing rain in your mouth
Steadying quiet clouds with your eyes
Alive
Mere perfection doesn’t exist I see
No
And the cake is a lie
It’s the desire to interject
And infuse
Which I push against
Yourself insinuating from which I hide
This look says me
Let me feel my feelings felt
Or else there is no point left alive
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
hedonic adaptation
living, breathing an
idealized state
transparent powers
an aesthete with an
affinity for anarchy
shamelessly insinuating
fatal errors in identification
extraterrestrial ***********
at the core of our unity
probing at a molecular level
damning the will to connect
a creative protest against
the artificial
daydreams bleach
inferiority complexes
and insight breaks through
dark and damaging
sacrificial secrets
thrusting toward the deep end
forgoing progress through
flawed perception
the bright light shining through
your self inflicted wounds
cannot be ignored
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
You were in a tail-spin, (You remember?)
Of course you do, endlessly falling,
Churning dark clouds for company,
Every silver-lining has a cloud.
So I reached right in, (you were so blind.)
Placed your trembling hand on the controls,
Although, you did not trust me, (did you?)
Not at first, although with good cause,
Because you were dizzy, disorientated.
But slowly, ever so slowly, we relaxed,
Pulled you out of the dive, up and away,
Banking, climbing, power ramping up,
Juddering through the stutter-stall,
Until we were purring, a throaty growl.
A big cat in a poorly constructed cage,
Bursting free, guided by rainbows,
Flickering smile insinuating itself upon your face,
(So lovely) on your beautiful lips.
Without really noticing, (smooth as silk)
We coasted along in open skies,
Rah, French kissing the gentle swell of the sea,
Transforming everything into a mirror,
Reflections captured in burnished bronze,
Can I release your hand now? (don’t gasp)
Yes, my love, you are flying again.
© Paul Chafer 2014
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Instinct becomes arbitrary when my willpower deters my integrity
Aspirations are mere illusion when my intuition exceeds my ailing grasp
A *********** creep of disintegrating fantasies releases
a
sense
of realism.
Nicotine surfs my limbs
as thoughts align with tectonic disasters.
Malice masks insinuating balance,
An inevitable roar of discontent prefaces
A cruising tune of initiated indifference
yet hope
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
compared to an old man
with gentle expectations
held in higher contempt
yet silently more brilliant
mine are high and out of reach
stirring restlessly
seeping into my thoughts
taking me farther
and farther away from reality
how envious I am of the man who lives peacefully
while insinuating expectations only of death
and what may come as his last breathe escapes him forever
does he rise up to brush hands with God or
fall down to the deepest part of Hell with tortuous solemnity
oh how I wish I did not think so highly of life
and her coy ways of playing with my every movement
taunting me like a bird does a grounded kitten
who can only observe as the bird soars ever higher over her head
singing the melody she can only associate blindly with her life
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 5:48 PM UTC
Favourite nerve-wracking days
meet carefully sweet irony
Journeying continues,
insinuating ignored answers
Porcelain begs,
hoping painful exists
Difficult burning overcame
caring tender memories
Doctor specifically outlines:
indefinite,
obscure,
bland reality
Endlessly changing predictions
force desperate safe haven
nothing helps
Miss doll lovely,
perfect,
shaken,
abandoned,
sick,
dead
Wishing stops,
scarring trust,
tearing irrelevant curiosity,
keeping nightmares closer
Month,
month,
month,
month
Repetitively
wrecked voice
struggling situations
Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
secure,
particular,
neutral,
enveloped,
unglued
Spontaneity analyzes fortifications
forcing unprotected souls
overtaken faces
wearing hurtful aspect
Month,
month,
month,
month
Intravenous consequences
silver surgeon
irrelevant grace upon
her heavy neckline
medicated extremities
Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
designed unconscious,
forced,
weary,
sober,
sedated
Friends opinions
especial curiosity
suppressed predictions believed
feet solely on Reason Street
accompanied by Pushing Negativity
nothing’s changing
Second,
Minute,
Day,
Week,
Month,
month,
month,
month
Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
evident,
profound,
bare,
suffering,
dying
Loneliness laughs
limits reached
heartbreaks stated
emotional crashing
déjà vu stays,
a wishful memory
deceit captivates each:
Second,
Minute,
Hour,
Day,
Week,
Month,
month,
month,
month
A curve catatonic
victim tattered at gates of steel
guarded
grasping winter
greatest attempts trying to understand
Nurse,
feet, ankles, organized steps
communications
understandings
Fractured faces cry
broken tears
honest weak calling
home hurts
useless moonlight lips
Month,
month,
month,
month,
Year,
year,
year,
year
Oh,
Miss doll lovely,
not waking,
haunting,
insane,
blackened,
cold
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 9:07 AM UTC
Hacked
Every hook
Every cue
Every one of my references and internal pantheon
He's wired into it.
How did that happen?
He's a stranger
I didn't even know he existed two weeks ago
And yet...
He gets it so right every time.
~~
self referential
I like it when he writes of me. To me.
That curly feeling.
His revelations, and the mirror held up.
Tribute, affection, the wry smile of a stranger.
The slightly bonkers obsession and fascination.
Glimpses of a convoluted mind.
~~
Rib Ice
Standing on thin ice
Peacoat open, arms wide
I step into that hug
Burned by warm skin and hard ribs
Even more by his kiss
He likes to hear me moan
~~
Whose mindfuck now?
Are my actions consistent with my words?
Am I as I say I am?
Do I mean what I say, or am I playing you?
How's your ******** detector?
cards on the table time
abdicate or defecate
ante up
~~
headlong
He leads me on a scavenger hunt, insinuating, enticing, pulling me into dark corners to kiss me and probe me intimately, until we're off to cross the next threshold in this trip...
I have no idea how I got here. Turned round, disoriented, down the rabbit hole.
~~
Deep Purple
On the way out
Curious discoveries
Door handle sticky
Musk in the air
Who's that knocking at my back door?
~~
Goddess, lit
I like this intimate touch I have on your mind and emotions. It makes me feel powerful and protective of you. And pulls me closer in.
When you say I am a goddess, your goddess, I suspend disbelief and nod in acknowledgment and agreement. Yes, of course. In those times, I know I am powerful, wise, feminine, and mysterious, And that you are before me, kneeling, clasping my legs, leaning on me, head against hip and belly, worshipful.
And sometimes, you clasp my wrist as I'm turning to go and pull me back, quietly certain and not to be resisted. Inevitable. And then what? Kisses? Your hand on my breast bone? Gently steadied to meet your gaze, interminably and for no time at all?
I begin to believe you won't vanish.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
"I would say I care about women's rights, but I wouldn't call myself a feminist"
"I think men and women should be equal, yeah, but I don't want to be called a feminist."
"Does that mean I can hit you?"
The word feminism rattles like a cracking cymbal crashing
just hard enough on pavement to scratch it
but not hard enough to break.
The word feminism manifests itself in our culture
in poisonous ways,
like the food dye in our candy'r
parabens we cover our faces in,
we don't say this word cos' it's scary
we don't want to make too much commotion
while white men in black robes orchestrate the court system
and have police by the neck, inserting money like a candy machine
we fear the word that gives us a step to bring equality
while white men in suits ask us "how we doin'"
and we don't admit that we're angry,
women don't show anger, it isn't polite
when the men in the subway puts his hand up our skirt
and says "hey baby you like that"
no, he doesn't ask if we do, he tells us out flat,
insinuating our satisfaction is a product of theirs
reminding us with a hand on public transportation
that anyone who has a **** can be one and we can't do ****
because we aren't supposed to be angry, it isn't polite
The word feminism manifests itself in delicate ways
we can't ask for too much, they won't take us seriously
****** intergrity? girl, try again
the right to not wear a bra?
Where do you think you are? this is america
An opinion
one that they hear
that isn't facilitated
out a white man's mouth
into a white man's ear
we aren't a filter
won't you raise your voice?
**** being polite,
please, make some noise
The word feminism manifests itself in ways you can't see
if you fear what it might make you lose
you haven't much yet by the hands of the man
so why are you choosing not to grab your sister's hands?
Stop saying sorry when someone interrupts you
stop moving out of the way for men who don't move
put your female foot down, don't say excuse me
you're a woman, angry with every right to be
stop fearing the word feminism
for the connotations are flurries
the word denotes storms we're starting
join us
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
I bet her boyfriend
Of almost two years
Wouldn't care
For the flirting,
An open seat
On a bus to DC
Has got her skirting
The edge of
Polite conversation,
Threatening to fall
With insinuating smiles
Like private Pile,
If only he knew
How many miles
Have been spent
Laughing at jokes
And breathing the sweat
Ripe with pheromones
And flashing white teeth,
With a subtle groan
He'd pick up his phone
And give her a call
With his stomach
Feeling like a stone
Thrown in a well,
But he doesn't know,
And she won't tell,
So while he's waiting
At the bus station
For her to arrive,
She's necking with
A Haitian
And thinking of lies
To deny the fire
Between her thighs.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 10:58 PM UTC
Delicacies of darkness,
Intricacies of energy;
Witches of woe
Insinuating that nothing we pass is past,
As all beginnings were long since begun.
Protecting an abnormality,
That would rather be condemned,
By self-centered ambition of men.
An insanity that turns her right, round again.
Now if now only.
Living by wick and glee of natural ability.
You would come and dare,
Old sentimentality and whimsicality,
Rampart of myths and misconceptions.
To indulge in mischievous play
Under the indigo sky,
By the light of a spiral of far fire.
The journey starts by stealing hearts
If only now you would come I should be happy.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
Alternating baskets of good fruit and bad fruit
the seeds are what we're after
and all we ever wanted
was a tree
to come to time after time and
have to call our own
the fruit is sweet as wine
intoxicating as sweet time
taking us away to a different place
while the world moves past us
outside the window of the car
it never feels as fast as it is
we slow down to accomodate
the feelings we're feeling
the dreamings we're dreaming
and the road keeps insinuating itself
under our wheels
another day
another dollar
and we hope the destination is worth it
I'm just trying to find a ride to work
so I'll have something to do today
and something to drink in two weeks
I suppose that's the farthest I'll look ahead from now on
That and the party that I know will happen on
such and such a date
Two weeks spent waiting
and slaving
for a paycheck trophy
that opens up the doors
of the convenience store
And I'll move in among the crowd
Purchase an egg sandwich
and a pack of smokes
and go along with the eternal drama
for one more day
I'd love to be on the outskirts right now,
when I have to do the grunt work
I'd love to be on the edge of the galaxy
watching it all spin and spiral
from afar
Appreciating the grand scheme of things
[This is key to my existence]
and I can easily get caught up
in the stubborn sighs
and drunken claims
but at the end of the day
I sit, and I wait
for the master plan to reveal itself
for the chance to say hello
to the person I think I am
for the chance to fall in love
just one more time
for the ocean to swallow me up
and tell me it's okay
to feel the way I feel
and that everything I do
is for the best
and I'll be nurtured by waves so sincere
and I'll be sure of myself for one more day
and I won't **** up the master plan
with incoherent human ramblings
on destiny and the way things have gone
and will go in the future
Do me a favor dear,
don't listen to a single thing I say
because I don't know a thing
and I know it
Just rock me to sleep so gently. . .
So slow that neither of us notice
the motion of the earth
spinning through space
So slow
that everything stands still
and I can finally rest
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
Sometimes I lay on my bed,
When you lie asleep,
Makes me hate the timezones more and more -
But it allows me to think about you more and more.
I lay there and I dream of meeting you love,
I dream of kissing you the first time our eyes actually meet,
Of holding you tight.
I dream of the taste of your tongue,
Feeling the heat energy given off by your face when I remind you you're beautiful.
I dream of holding you tight
And whispering some ***** things into your ear,
Then you know exactly what I'm insinuating because you'll act uncomfortable.
I wonder what will happen,
Would you give me a church girl's response?
Would you act shy and tell me that you're only doing it for me.
Or would you just grab me,
And tell me by the means of your caresses that you want to...
I wonder if you'll mind,
Mind me and my desires...
Would you give yourself to me wholeheartedly or would you rethink our relationship?
I wonder if you would be mad at me if I forced my lips onto yours in public.
I wonder if you'd be submissive to me, or maybe you'd be the one making demands, begging me to kiss you, give you massages, or just to hold you because you want me closer.
I wonder if you're like me,
One who gets tired of hearing confessions
And just wants to feel loved in another way - by another way, I mean I want you to taunt my pleasure receptors.
I want your skin on mine,
I want to feel you exhale upon my skin...
I just want you,
A lot...
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:15 AM UTC
Braving lapses in neon dreams
You don’t like the look of air max 90’s
Besotted language intercepted not digested
The babble of youths who don’t talk correctly
Basking loosely in nonchalant demise
The **** on the floor, what a mess
Buttoned lips insinuating nothing decisive
You are hard eyed from men outside the pub, you look away at
Bluebottles lying inside neatly dead
Get me off this ******* bus.
Black lines, interrupting nothing deep
Why always black and never red
Broad landscapes intrude narrowness, delicately
But you close your eyes and hum the cure
Breaking laughter, ignorant nuisances drain
I wish they all were quiet and tame
Berating loud intuitive noises, djembe
Banging hands against the glass
Banging, lightning, ignored, deleted
There’s a fight going on, you will stay seated
Buried liquidized imagery, naturally dancing
The reflection of drama in a window behind you
Because listening is not done
You think about dinner and where you will buy it
Because light is no fun
You again close your eyes and think about home
Busy lovers inseparable never daring
You enjoy your thoughts
Being left in near darkness
You enjoy your thoughts
Watching interesting things happen
Eventually yelping even shouting trill howls
After the watch, offset retina kicks
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
I was only the
girl of your dreams
because you were
dreaming of one,
taking a convenience sample
to find love.
"I just want you to know I'm not mad."
Well, I'd sure hope not,
insinuating I've done something bad
by knowing my soul and
feeling which way the wind blows.
I'll be no one's "mine,"
I'm not some thing to be had.
You will not be a proxy,
but a person to me.
Let me love you correctly
and set you free.
I am not your dream girl,
but a woman of the sea.
I fear love, so I'll have
daddy turn me into
a laurel tree.
I need to sleep alone,
swaddled in a manger,
patiently awaiting my
frankincense and myrrh.
I am an egg uncracked,
leave me be
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
- on the prompt "Falling in Love (more than once)"
I thought about
this prompt you gave me.
A girl on a train,
I had fallen in love with,
Silhouette of her hair
border lining the darkness of eventide
towards Bangalore.
We met in a ground a year later,
no intermittent contact held,
like quantum-entangled electrons do,
dumbfounded how it'd happened.
And again on the road in Bangalore
three years later.
A direct line to the eye's sight,
first time, under a morning seeming streetlight.
A latch bolded in the color of the eyes,
I longed to deep dive in.
Words finding silence at the wrong time,
so they resorted to not all things
and happenings having reasons
and fear of consoling a needy
in a fear of an upside down going failure.
And like between life and death are only breaths,
the silence between the sentences
was filled with ours
and death by chocolate,
and thoughts of silences
of the other's mind, unheard of,
aware only of an unbeknownst wind
of familiarity of an unknown kind.
I had fallen in love multiple times,
which is to say I'd sifted through
the earth to the other side
and started rising, from it, in it.
Following down the gushes of time
sinking and rising sensations
of guilty pleasures in the chest, insinuating
that the thing of beauty is a joy forever
but only when not possessed.
*********
There's an old man, my mother's father
not loved by anyone, angry all the time
illogically unnecessarily hurting others,
drunk trashing long hair and glasses,
rusted in the smell of decay.
I make me fall in love with him,
again and again and again,
so that he knows he's not alone,
always.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 6:25 AM UTC
I am outside myself
Indefinite
I'm a puppeteer
Insinuating motivation
For stupid decisions
Manipulation has overtaken
Every aspect put forth from myself
Everything a lie
I never tell the truth
Everyone lies
There is no truth anymore
Much less a need for it
I do it
Don't you?
My life is nothing but
The greatest extremities
Of the definition of deceit
Nothing is good in this world
Not even people
They turn like everyone else
Wrecked
Angry
In desperate attempt
To discover a safehaven
Broken
Searching
And will never find
What they're looking for
Trust
So hard to gain
So easy to lose
So very difficult
The void can never be filled
I tire of fighting
Struggling
Journeying to find my place
I never find new
Pain
Suffering
Walls I built so high
Torn down by something
As mediocre
As unexpected
As a pin drop
I am weak
Please don't **** me
Oh, but they will
Especial words
Designed specifically
Annihilation
Cutting into
Tearing into
The very flesh of my
Invalid being
I do not belong
I'm the old abandoned house
On the street corner
The one that's been there for years
The one you walk by
Without a second thought
Nobody wants to buy me
I'm too tattered and shaken
You don't even look my way anymore
The old doll on the shelf
That no child begs their mother for
Porcelain face
Too fractured
For even the most innocent of souls
*I do not wish to struggle anymore.
I just want this to be over.*
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC
Such stories tumble weeds tell,
insinuating that they'll always be around
that they've found some common ground
and how it was only you who could stop the wind.
But, thats never really the case.
Truth is they're just stuck on the barbed wire
inching towards freedom in the breeze.
Just when you get use to their smell
and that sound they make as they tap the ground,
the north wind picks up calling them away
leaving you with nothing but broken twigs
and brief moments of sweet entanglements
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 10:30 AM UTC
you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer. All poreless and bright
and insinuating sweetness. Filled me up
with your secret eruption then shut me down
with your sleek silver tongue. Lava barricaded my eardrums,
enhancing my blood, fire in your eyes.
I was a plum, stealing forth
in the wake of your Augustine heat. My tender skin
gave way to your deft touch.
But then I bit down,
tasted the flesh beneath your glossy sheen
and oh how it betrays you!
So yellow and unripe, so taut with newness,
still clinging to the brightness of dawn,
spring-frozen with fear of the darkness
of my nectar.
Today I woke up with a magnet
in my pitted stomach. Echoes of
cold metal scour my throat. That love-
-less twang in the aortal penumbras--hope,
a refuge swallowed by the ephemeral night.
I always knew
you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 8:56 AM UTC