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making love with no love
(kissed her with his freedom)

<•>

a new person in an overnight stay in a strange,
aptly named,
bed and breakfast

and

you do all the same things that just feel good, careless loving
that comes from practiced renewable remembering,
kiss her neck for hours, drink in her crescendoing cooing

rename her Appalachia, bemused, wondering why,
she gasp-asks, when your tongue traces her odyssey body
from her Georgia to her Maine, then no need to explain

it all feels familiarly strange, imbalanced, shaky, loving the thrill
of your first solo bike ride, an invisible hand letting go,
the wow of walking the line of new freedom and
old responsibility that you have walked on both coasts

carry on, love is coming to us all lyric, enacted-recalled,
loving yet another
long cool woman in a black dress with unquestioning

how to explain to her, how to yourself, loving with no loving,
and the best you can stammer is it is like writing a poem
with too many commas or none at all

she laughs you up with one mouth lingering,
then one amazing kiss on your heart
and nose,
grabs a piece of toast and gone girl,
then you are returned to alone, to the dreams that
may or may not have occurred and two hands overflowing with
too many commas
and none to keep
<•>


11-18–17 2:54am, somewhere
“kissed her with his freedom”
Cactus Tree by J. Mitchell
11/18/17 2:54am
cait-cait Apr 2018
i put my hands on your throat ;

veins pumping red
like little boats
inside the storm ,

your hands tangle around me ,
they grasp, tug, hit:
and this is a fight that
i am losing.

outside, it snows ,
and my pink skins flushes red
as you have burned me
from the inside out .

everything becomes white , when
you touch me
for the first time ,

and then i cry when you hit me .
.

we kiss.
he kissed me and it felt like i got hit.
September Roses Jul 2018
Sit back and relax
Feel the waves wash over your back
In the melting sun
Looking at the clouds reflecting all the pinks and blues
Over the blooming hill, echoing white noise of chirps and crickets

Listen to the trickling of the slow water over the smooth rocks
Feel a warm wind brush your face
With your eyes closed
Enjoying the radiating warmth
And the soothing crackling of a log fire

Or sit and admire the shimmering spray
Of a waterfall smoothly crashing into the water of a sky kissed lake
Sunlight dancing through the vapor
Rainbows jumping through every droplet

Listen to the pitter patter of the rain, against a tin roof
Inside a warm cabin
Drifting to sleep
Soon to wake to the song birds chorus
And the blissful sun

Bask in it
And relax
I...I love you.
That is the only way i can dis scribe this,
i love it when you kiss me,
your lips are soft,
and gentle,
no ones kissed my like this before.
you say you love me,
and my heart roars,
its a gushing volcano of hot lava.
you touch,
plants gardens.

your eyes,
big,
beautiful,
Russet ,
orbs,
i cant look away.
the way you look at me,
speaks a language,
without words.
You are Virgo ,
and i a Gemini.

you are kind.
and loving.
i cant let you out of my head.

BOOM
you broke my heart.
the way you kissed me was terrible
the volcano is inactive
the garden is a decay of mold, chopped trees, and weeds
your eyes are the color of ****
and now everything is silent.
I can't believe i let you in.
at least i didn't give you anything important.
its just a heart
nothing special.
for Jacob thanks for nothing.
Cristi Jul 2017
I'd rather have you on my lips
than these countless cigarettes,


     But you aren't my
     seven-minute cigarette break.


          I'm not going to put you out
          after sparking you up.
Inspired.
Drunk poet Jan 2018
I've always wanted to design dreams
Not to chase them like kids after butterflies in the fields
But to decorate and further furnish them.
.
I've always wanted to mend dreams
Not to be the one with the broken pieces of dreams
But to repair them with the kisses of hope.
.
But just like a  chameleon nature changed her wardrobe
And like the space in-between an anvil and an hammer,
I lost my needle and tools to time.
.
Now, when we the sun comes up
I host troubles
Even when the sun goes down
I host double of the prior troubles
Only I hope, it won't be forever!
.
Balogun David Tolulope
©️drunkpoet
Samuel Hoffmann Mar 2018
From my perspective the world is flat
because I've never been to space,
and love seems like a stupid idea
having only ever kissed my mom's face.

A college degree just seems wasteful,
but I don’t have one yet.
And coffee seems so distasteful,
but that's true, don't fret.

My world doesn't have unicorns
or cotton candy clouds.
Extremely fantasized love movies
plague young teenage crowds.

I know I sometimes seem all together,
please trust me when I say thats not true.
I take a shower, brush my teeth,
And go to bed broken and blue.

I know I might seem stoic,
and yes, most times, that's true.
But honestly, I do love many things,
one of which is you.
Cné Mar 2018
a ******* the beach
watching the shimmering waves
is kissed by the sun
Johnny walker Dec 2018
First time I met her to the first time I held her hand the first time I kissed her was the time I
knew that I loved her, just wanted to marry her wanted to make love to her wanted her to have my baby, just proud of being her husband to be man and wife for the rest of our lives
The time ever I saw her It was then I knew that I loved her
Puds May 12
The Aurora Flits Away From Gaias
Rim
The Earth Rotates And The Stars
Dim
Silhouettes Shy As The Shadow
Slips
Into The Embrace And The Warmth
Of Heavens Lips
Remembering the first time I kissed and held Helen In my arms magical moment lost In her beautifully spell cast upon me her mistical
charms
Memerised by her eyes that told all with a glance from that very first moment I was For I hooked on Helen from that day on I never left her side
and
I knew In that first moment what true love really meant to me I'd been searching for this all my lonely days my prayers had finally been heard a day I will never
forget
Adron E Dozat Dec 2014
To My Wife, Why I Kissed That Girl
A Poem

You gave me no kiss good-by
You were in a hurry to go out.
You gave me no kiss good night,
I saw you were too tired again.
You gave me no kiss with coffee,
You were late for work again.
You gave me no kiss when you came,
You had a such a bad day.
You gave me no kiss when I came,
You were too busy with the kids.
You gave me no kiss again
Now all we have left is good by.
To order my book of inspirational poems at Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HMFML2D
The clouds he welcomed,
and let them play
While the sun descended
to kiss his rugged make

The winds would rage
yet come to him
as a petted bovine
tamed at whim

Like a ***** giant
stood the mountain tall,
in brooding silence
as he towered above all

Then the rains came, and
brought a stranger home
She was none like them
yet she seemed their own

In her winding bends
the mountain heard
the frenzied beats
of a heart so stirred

As the brook looked up
and the mountain down
she found calm
and him, storms found

The clouds he asked
how he could move
and mustered his will
for a measure of stoop

She looked at him
with a drowning feel
clutching at her banks
and digging in her heels

The bend showed up
like an eternal curse
carrying the aching brook
like a solemn hearse

One last time
she looked back at thee
the one she killed
in setting free
A moment shared in love can be enough for a lifetime.
Era Dec 2018
You've been on my mind,
Since a very long time.
You've got no clue,
How much I'd loved you.

But then, last night
When I saw you;
I saw you with
Someone new.

You were with her,
Almost all the time.
Oh, I thought
I would lose my mind.

I saw her leanin' on you;
As if you were  h e r  boo.

And slowly as you kissed her,
I unlearned your name;
And now it's all a blur.
lila Feb 21
mon ange,
what a lovely collection of paradoxes
darling, you’re absolutely celestial

kisses imitate the taste of fresh vanilla
and those eyes
twinkling divinely
as deep as the galaxies
in which they reside

your voice is heavenly
like waves crashing on moonlit shores
and that laugh
i swear it sounds just like
a light bell chiming
music to my ears

your graces blinding rays
shine their golden light
upon sun kissed cheeks

mon ange,
you are a symphony to my senses
2/21/2019
Margaret Aug 2014
Beach
You
Me
Watching
Walking
You
Running
Introducing
Asking
Me
F­lattered
Blushing
Stars
Twinkle
Moon
Shine
Sand
Swishing
Beach
Ye­arning
Boy
Wanting
Kiss
I
Never
Kissed
Till
Us
Dancing
All
Alone
­Head
Resting
On
Chest
We
kiss.
We
Leave
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I
A flower that smells of pure bliss keeps an ear to the ground
It's a serene one sitting beneath the stars down on earth
The moon, far, far, seven seas away, loves to drop into her lap.

The Bay of Bengal billows, music has gotten beneath the skin.
The leaves furl out off the deep wood with the birds
singing out to the top of the trees, rhyming with the leafy dance.
Heavensent, that was in one sanguine day in the spring.
The Mother’s Language Movement in 1952 sprouted like this
on the eighth of native Falgun month—oh magic did it unleash!

On that day our beloved brothers were shot dead
They could swallow the bullets with smiles but won’t give up
demanding the official status for the Bangla mother tongue.
Angels wrapped round the martyrs amid lamenting mothers
Laid them on Falgun’s perfumed ground bleeding corpses
Seas of roses bloomed and blew them out red, red kisses!

They are gone not the stone wall of consciousness they raised
Ah, at the sprout of the spring what were they echoing?
Ingrained deep in the soil the pre-designing voice in the planning?
Who can tell? The world gels on February 21 in celebrating!

The angels then snapped up our martyrs’ souls off the land,
placed them on a piece of Heaven where they can hear the jingle.
Down on earth, a nation springs up, has gotten its wake up call!
Stepping on the sweetening arc of the mother tongue melody
the stone turns a flower, all in a butterfly moment soaring to victory.
Thanks to the movement - Bangladesh itself later comes to be!

II
The sun comes down to the rose painting on the land
In the heavenly Falgun hues it nibbles some wild summer dreams.
“Serene songs of earth stirring the water,” like it comes into play,
rowing the cloud bubbles singing in southern breeze.
Ah, a walk on the sun-kissed kaleidoscope land is a pure bliss.  
Every blossom spray of the wind is soothing sweet
Hop on and play straight to the ruby heart, as if it's a flute.

Mother tongue means speak free, fearless, in full streaming.
Speak the heart to the world without the fear of losing the cloud
that will listen, bouncing back on the brink of the sky river.
Then what did one say, hear, or was awed by in the blooming Falgun?
Could it have been the spring humming in her native lingua
or King David singing in mother tongue by babbling brooks
what in any other language, even with a silver tongue, isn’t possible?

Allah has listened to our martyrs’ crying mothers and fathers
The martyrs’ souls whisk through the galaxies and starry fair.

Soar high over the clouds, take the rainbow's *** of gold away,
Like a hue turns 360-degree in the colourwheel bask into the colour.
Still, dip the toes in Bangla mother’s soil salted with perfumed art
Like Himalayan water swirling down melting deeper deep down
This magicland is polished for everyone be it you, a fairy, a star
or off the ploughed-out barrow a walked out wonder!

A pristine voice duo’s voiceprint gleans to the spring in muse,
Pops in a beauteous scurry and speaks in the mother tongue!
Hidden within the earthy depth, only emerges with time,
only dances in tangent, that day slipped out with the butterflies.
And finally the blue nymphs take the plunge drop down the sky  
That day the mother’s voice triumphed, whose is the most original!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Ashley Chapman Nov 2018
In a playful vision sent
Your ****** homologue
Of amber shins and pale phalanges
Weaves four-leaved clovers.

In response,
***** spurs
And protean winged descent
To float into your kaleidoscopic star:
Gliding,
Freely falling,
To rest in lace extremities.

There in our bed of sensual feet,
Sunflowers breath,
Whose burnished rotating petals
Gather me in wisps,
Each spiral frond,
Gyring
Before death's voids
Is drawn in purls.

And in pleasures held,
Cossetted in latticed limbs,
A ***** lustrous rich embrace;
Denuded and alive!
And with abandon kissed:

    Bony toes
    Tendons
    Deep arches
    Shins
    Ankles,
    Sweetmeats,
    Light and delicate.

As here between pretty shins
And fleshy silken feet
Our ascent begins
Rising,
From low regions,
To scale new heights
And crown our night.

This lovers' leap into prismatic
reproduction
In the empty Cosmic wastes
     In a web is caught!
Where feet and toes inspire
Continuity for pointed stars.

As material possibilities collide
The lust for life
Is born in non-existence:
So in our nest of feet,
Mating in the game
With heads thrown back,
Of lust drink deeply we.
A friend sent a mesmerising image taken from a kaleidoscope. In that image so many ideas came together that I was able to put this down. It tells of what I know, the line between life and death, or more succinctly put, between our conscious and the great unconscious. In mind, to love is indeed sublime as it removes us from ourselves and plunges us to meet our heart's desire. Out in the wastes of time and space we also see ourselves writ large where whole galaxies collide and in so doing, the resultant chaos, new stars are born. So I take solas in such thoughts, even if my soul does at times yearn to shuffle off this mortal coil and be at peace and know Truth at last.
Nyssa Jan 25
I’m not cliché but for you I might,
Is this a short thing or are you in for the fight?
You know Im a lot, that my baggage is large, but you’ve got a nice package, would you want to
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