"leanings" poems
In order to expose my heart and truly write,
I must release my status or my pride,
this is not about me,
it was never meant to be a way to gain recognition,
another way for me to perform on a stage, some sort of exhibition.
Yet I find myself hesitating to write my thoughts,
trying to impress people I don't even know,
It was only meant to be an outlet a therapy for me, never some sort of show,
but like everything I have ever done somehow Id rather waste my time trying to impress. My guilty conscience driving me to be truly under duress. Forced to hold back the leanings of my heart I merely release a fluffy worthless shallow piece. I will not be stifled, held down by my need to please, my ribs will not rupture under this pressure as I try to breathe. I must write with heart and soul or not at all.
So this is my open message to you pride, no matter how many times I fool myself into putting on your mask, I promise, your control over me will not last.
I will take you off just as quickly as I put you on because I want someone who reads these to truly see me. To see me with all of my scars misfortunes and faith, I will put my heart out, I will never aspire to be fake.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
When she's around... time slows down... almost to the point of complete nothingness... I look at her and think, is there truly anything more gorgeous?..
When She's around, I feel safe and that anywhere could be called home. Her eyes; a curious stare... my hand twitches, longing to touch her curlicious hair.
Our gaze's meet, and I find myself drifting... closer and closer to her feet. Her lips just within a leanings reach. Her dimples nearly touching my cheek... Her sent... 'Heavenly'.
I run my hand through her hair, and I hear her gasp, a sudden rush and a cool breeze changes the whole atmosphere. Her legs grab my waist and I stare into the pupils. She leans in, our eyes drift shut but our lips finally meet and I feel the grip of her legs tighten around my waist...
I walk forward until her chest presses against mine and her back makes love with the wall. I wrench her hair and kiss down her chest, real slow.
I mumble sweet nothingness into her ear whilst I caress her bare ******* Her legs decend and wrap around mine and I hear her begin to beg. The second my tongue makes contact with the nape of her neck her hips grind tight against mine.
This is not routine, she is trembling. Brewing like a steam pipe, compressed, ready to burst. I slip my tongue into her mouth and open it as I **** the air clean from her lungs.
It is at this point her legs curls inward and rips me back, causing me to fall and back crashes against the floor and she lands right on my lap. I grab her waist as she grips onto me.
The night is young, and ready to be explored. Our quest into each other will bring us beyond the star systems to a plane uncharted and unlike any other, ventured before. The night sky will bear witness to our event and the stars will weep out of sheer awe from beauty. Life, being made in a single dance of love and our moans, and wails and cries of ecstasy and desire, passion and Love...
and when it was all over.. we held one another.. and peeped into each others soul. It was love... Love.. Love of the Titans.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
the nature of this night
spreads its thin harvest upon my table
a gruel and water porridge feast
with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand
many more lined up with eager grin
for the warmth of paupers kinship
thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders
snow gathers at feet
she captures the moment on paper
the image of all of us gathered like when we were young
the grandiose illustration
with its brilliant colour fanfare with
jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink
chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war
lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss
all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping
while empires are built in our namesake
the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood
have taken over the dancehall beneath us
and have taken up song
the grandiose illustration
caught by her pen on sketch pad
has leanings to the Marxist revolutions
and philosophys of the rhetorical
but in the end we join them and
drink the port sing the song
a thousand years of tales to be told
in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts
epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls
the grandiose illustration
shows the two of us on the beach
with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami
and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and
tumble in the breaking waves
the nature of this night
in one small corner of the illustration
a simple window with the shade drawn
that says goodnight
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
a rubix cube upon my desk
with half the colors matching
near a wayward garden gnome
what plots might he be hatching
contemplations fill my head
of life and all its meanings
a conservative at heart
despite my leftist leanings
someday I’ll find the leprechaun
hiding at the rainbow’s end
I’ll take that ******** lucky charms
before he runs again
memories haunt my waking mind
not sure if they're even real
vertigo and déjà vu are all that I can feel
I think I’ll take another hit
that should finally stop the spinning
as my pet rock races Charlie Brown
the rubix cube is winning
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
Alone with only the piles of ash as company,
I harden a little more.
Severing cords and burning bridges can be tiring and I have had my fill of useless people
so sleep is in my future.
I have never known love;
I know this now.
Hollowed out by wicked inclinations,
tempered with deviant leanings,
filled with poisonous lust
and fueled by misanthropic,
misogynistic misgivings,
I have become bereft of
all that is good.
I have given up
on ever being happy.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC
Inside me,
unfurling currents
adrift in confusion;
uprooted and unsure.
Silent leanings
Undeclared,
without reason,
Unstable and yet
seeking balance,
go tilting towards
secret places that
lie tender and unexplored.
So softly stroking the bowed back
of my subconscious,
a lover's caress of the mind.
The slow hand of thought
flowing across
the dark curtain of doubt.
Veiling, with sly intent,
obscure fears.
Spreading delicate tendrils
of uncertainty.
I am silent.
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
Texas 1959, And today Out of Time
Oswald... The CIA Admits As Role Prime
To Play Lee Harvey... Until the Time
He could be used... And hid behind
The Asassination of Castro He Failed
Still Playing Him along... to their Avail
The Victim of the Ruse.....
Never Realised his Use..... in the End
They Plied him with *****
Hookers and Promises.....
Trips to Cuba and Secret Meetings
A Snipers Rifle with Desperate Leanings
Keeping him fed with Lies
The CIA Cast the Die
Feeling Let down by JFK that Day
Over the "Bay of Pigs"
His Truce they regarded For
A weakness that Moscow
Would Subvert Somehow
For the President Folded
Then Came that Fatal Texas Day
In 1963, Lee Harvey at the Depository
Smiling Waving JFK in a.....
White Lincoln Town Car Parade
The Shot Rang out where he sat
Blood splattered on Jackie's Pillbox Hat
Jack Ruby ready was Very Fast
To make sure the Truth Didn't Last
The CIA Made Numerous Omisions
Of Evidence to the Investigation Commision
Keeping it all Hid away, Till the CIA Historian
Opened the file of Lies, from the day.....
The President Died....................................
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
The greatest blessing for a woman is to be a mother
Like a tree grew up from the earth
A child comes out from the womb of a mother
Only a woman can give all of us birth
Mother is as patient as our holy hand
Who bears with all impurities of humans
But remains pure and cool with her loving hand
She is beautiful in all seasons
Mother may be young, middle aged or old
But her heart is really made of gold
Without earth there is no nature
Without mother nor is any human future
A child may go away from mother’s breast
As a tree’s roots are entrenched in earth’s crest
His/her leanings are in mother’s hearty grace
That is the beauty of human race
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 6:20 AM UTC
If you can keep your feet upon the flat ground
And draw the line at frivolous ideals
And tell yourself this downhill train can turn round
With just a bit more fat to grease the wheels
If you can reduce all the pressing questions
To a straight coin toss between blue and red
If you can close your ears to all suggestions
That there might be a wider choice instead
If you can vote the way your parents voted
If you can leave debating to the press
And disregard each novel concept floated
While wondering how we got in this mess
If you believe the latest polling numbers
Regardless of the leanings of their source
If you believe that while this nation slumbers
It somehow still can hold to the best course
If manifestos leave you feeling hazy
If your first thought is what's in this for me
If anyone who disagrees is crazy
And not just someone who thinks differently
If you would rather come to a decision
Based on the outfits of the leaders' wives
If anyone with hope, ideals or vision
Is just a naive fool to be despised
And if when you are at the polling station
You'll squash down any doubts that you possess
If you can put your needs above the nation
And never give a thought to its distress
If you can steel yourself against reflection
And, promised real change, if you hold your nerve
You'll vote like all the rest at the election
And, what's more, get the leaders you deserve.
May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 12:35 AM UTC
A inkling should never expel it self
Not as a smoking diatribe
Especially not oozing from the cracks
Of a chapped upper lip,
None the less that skull protracting sound will break through
Bursting contemporary bliss from within
It had long spent too much time,
Dying on soggy wood as a mere atrocity
It could not be discarded in the ditch of fools
A call to arms was to be made
Effective immediately
The ****** marry will lay in parcels
Along with the gates to our conscious leanings
You’re destroying the Sistine chapel
And Hitler’s mansion
In one determined swoop
But good god! a slow crumble just wouldn’t do an archetype justice
These ladies must be put down
With rancorous style
Send in their creator
Who better to stomach the redeemer’s stones?
And death was reigned down
In a total collapse of medieval bile
The creator stands in a wicked corner seat
A hand clasped over the shame of his retribution
He would surely hang him self silly
In the afternoon light
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:04 AM UTC
The only walls I want are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know, the ones that divide my rooms and let me know if I'm cooking here, Netflix and chilling there or simply just sleeping undisturbed .
The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where my daughter plays, this is the space where my husband prays five times a day, this is the space where I wash the grit of the day from my ***** clothes.
The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where I entertain my friends, the space where I try to Zumba and loose the college 10 that turned into the adult 30, the space where all the corners join and then disappear behind my Christmas tree, where those four corners blend to support the tired leanings of my immigrant family after stuffing their bellies full of my freshly made tamales and leftover pernil
So unless you're taking the tired, the poor, the hungry and building them a respite inside of walls that separate homes, inside of walls that gives shelter, that tell we belong and are safely home
then I have no interest in anymore walls
unless
the wall you build divides you from us the way bathroom walls should keep **** contained to keep your stench from poisoning U.S. and the rest of the house.
Now that is the only wall I can agree on.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:28 PM UTC
Questioning her leanings, friend
Will neither win desire, nor end....
Instead the fluid slips to point
Where passion slides to bridge the joint
To sup from that forbidden place
Electrifies with easy grace.
M@Foxglove,TaranakiNZ
April 10 2023
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 11:06 PM UTC
i am
sweetly impacted
by all she left
behind
she left
impressions of color
lingering unique scents
melodic wisps of songs
and expressive soul's lyrics
she left
slung syntax
breeding within
enhanced meanings
with changed leanings
she left
gentle footprints
across my heart's
shorelines and sands
from mirror and muse
i feel her weight
and caresses
upon me
still
in her wake
she left
... me ...
she left me
to myself
learning to realign
to becoming redefined
to draw upon imagination
and practice another spell
of solo creation
with what she
left behind
for me
to find
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
You look so happy dressed in chains
Sorry you didn’t have that extra second to put a bullet into your brain
They died and the police came for you
You tried but you lost the ******* game didn’t you
Ain’t it funny no one cried
Ain’t it a shame you didn’t die
I bet you planned it out like you knew what to do
I guess that’s just how it goes when life puts fight into you
Right now it’s just a dream of mine
To see their misty eyes and the “please!” and the night
That descends all around their languished cries
I might kiss them goodbye
I might **** myself before I try
Before I see the last light leave their eyes
I’ve heard it felt like I won’t feel empty inside
I like that idea, I’d like that life
Big hands, oh his hands, wrap around my neck like you’re my pretty necklace
I said I could feel **** but I was lying
All I need is the violent leanings of mean men
When did you last ****** dear
I’m still itching to find us there
Take me down when you’d like to
I know you’ve planned it all out, I don’t doubt
You’d like to take my world away
The mask will stay
I’m on my way to being someone great
Do you believe I’ve done this a hundred times
Drug you along just to feel alive, I cry empty words
I bet you’d like to see underneath that hurt
Do your damnedest, try your luck
Drink the liquor, take the ****
Take it angry, **** me up
If I’d have known I would have stopped my games
But imagine all of your longing finally reaching it’s aims
I still wish myself dead and of you the same
Do you still want to do it for me
Do you still agree
Hold a ******* gun to my head or stick it in my mouth
Watch me cry and jack off to it
Shave your whole fist down my throat
And laugh and laugh and *** and gloat
Is this the rest of my life
I feel nothing and I don’t even like to
I’m just angry that I couldn’t even if I tried to
I’m just wishing I never had a life to live through
A true crime kid ***** because of **** ****** and glibness
People using me is where it is
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC
Oh! I recall
your perfect restraint.
Sitting back on that leather,
your hands at extremes.
Oh! How I loved
the scent of your neck.
My tongue caged by teeth
longing for a taste.
Oh, you inspired me
re-created my senses.
Your aesthetic ideals
burned into my mind.
Oh! I learned
from dictated desires.
The way to your passion,
if never your heart.
Oh! Your intensity
and visceral leanings.
Exposed me, and ate me
took me apart.
Oh! How I miss
your hands on my longing.
The seat of all wanting
aflame to your touch.
Oh! Such experience
a man of all things.
Take off your shirt,
let me taste you again.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
So It’s CLEAR That ...“ ILLUSIONS “ ...
Are Now Being ... PROVEN ... !!!
So ... Alphabet Genders ...
Are Now The TRENDSETTERS ... !!!
From Stage To TV ....
What Was Once Freely Deemed As Being OBSCENE ...
Is Now Being Seen On ... Various Screens ... !!!
Talking of Screening ....
When It Comes To Policing Their Illusion Feeds Screaming ...
Because of The Dealings of Police With NO Feelings ... !!!
Who Really Give Beatings To Those They Be Deeming ...
To Be ... BAD Human Beings ... !!!
But Movements They’re Using PROVES That Their Illusion ...
Leads To Their ABUSING The Truth For .... MISUSING ...
Their Powers Like Cowards Who Live In DARK Towers ... !!!
Like Those ... “ HOLDING POWER “ ... !!!
Whose Truth Eludes Clues That Gives People Proof ...
WITHOUT The Illusions That Keep Them From Movements ...
Where They Stand In Court ...
Due To Lies That DISTORT ...
The Truth For Their Moves ...
That KEEEP ON DECEIVING ...
Like Paedophiles Teaching ILLUSIONS To Youth ...
That Lead To Abuse That Then Hits The News ...
Like ... Calls For Impeachment ...
That Are ******* ... By Proceedings ...
That CLEARLY NEED CLEANING ... !!!
Their Illusions KEEP Sneaking Into Their Public Readings ...
So Folks Be Believing Illusions Where Scheming ...
And Payoffs Have Leanings ...
That STOPS Evidence From Leaking ... !!!
Money Infusion Creates These Illusions ...
That Truth Is What’s Used ... Inside of Courtrooms ...
Where High Fliers Cash Is Used To Pull SCAMS ...
Where Loopholes Are Found ... Due To Dollars And Pounds ...
Instead of Strong Cases That Have ... SOLID Grounds ...
Well Right About Now ....
Illusions Surround And Drown Out The Sounds ...
of Those Who Speak Out About How We’re CLOWNED ... !!!
By Laws That Are Flawed CORRUPTED And BOUGHT ...
By ... POWERFUL Guys Whose Money Now Buys ...
FREEDOM From Truth With Water Tight Proof ... ?!?
Because They Collude With Those In Courtrooms ...
Before Things Are Heard And Public Observed ... !!!
You’re Being ABSURD To Believe What Is Stirred ...
In Pots Filled With Plots Like Those of ... Ridley Scott’s ... !!!
Confusions Polluting ...
MUCH MORE Than Young Students ... !!!!!!!!!!
They’re Dealing In ... “ TALES “ ...
For Illusions To Sail So The Truth Gets DERAILED ... !!!!!
It’s Time For LESS LOOSENESS ... !!!!!
And Corruption Where Movements Are Suitably NEUTERED ...
For These Liars To Hide ... Behind Their ......
...... “ Illusions “ ......
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
Everyone seems to have an agenda, the fortune teller,the peanut vendor,the money lender,letter sender,cigarette sellers and some funny fellas, that they are.
Even countries have their say and cities like Kowloon,Bombay and continents,incontinent at least,would try to feast on the agenda,it's enough to send me round the bend as these things I speak of would defend their right to ply the people with their *****
My agenda's on the wall,read it,bleed it,weep and fall apart,what is wrote is not worth a dart or the tending to a boardroom full of city farts,but it doesn't cost you anything to take a look and bring your wisdom to the table,set down in blood or if you're able write it with a pen and ink
but think on son
Don't buy the bullets if you have no gun or walk before you learn to crawl..read the writing on the wall it's written there
and should you care to disregard, the penalties,severe and hard will come crashing down.
Make it simple
make it plain
erase mistakes and start again
We get it right
we get it wrong
but the long and short of it is
agendas as written are absolute ****
don't take a bit of notice,be a man,formulate,reformulate,accumulate a sincere need to want to write what people want to read
and take no heed of me,
I am history,been and broke,spoken of in those hushed tones behind sad smiles on mobiles phones and nods of heads of nodding dogs like multitudes of whirring cogs
or one of many unseen gods,
All I say is,
'sod the lot of them, let them spill out ink from wells and quills that slide across smooth vellum.
Hell'll have 'em all
and sod my writing on the wall, I'll knock it down and build a ramp,let the ******** trample over that and into the pit'
That's it,
I've said my bit,ain't got no more,had enough
so stuff your hidden leanings and intended words that have no meaning to me
I am history.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
feets, are the foundation
of our uprightedness,
knees, are for the leanings
in advance of our fall.
hips, are for the twisting-
and swivelling of it all.
necks, keep our head up
in back stroke, or the crawl.
Obi.
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 1:05 PM UTC
*I feel like a love poem
With no reason nor rhyme
Looking for that special someone
Who can read between my lines
Hold me pure to the keeping
Of my I love you leanings
Like that of a master craftsman
In the building up of my meaning
Someone to fill the empty space
Give this rhyme much needed reason
I feel like a love poem
With part of me missing*
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC
The drip sunk in his arm
he looks out; sees the bone beneath the nurses’ skin,
loose in their leanings.
It is over : death
out of his vein, the drip
sunk in,
the drip with its minced ******** of blandishment.
They will save his life,
abort a quintessential,
struggling gentleness, a life he has
placed in her womb,
a tiny pulse too light.
“It is ridiculous,” he murmurs,
as the pretty nurse leans over, tightening the band.
The blood thumps into strained normality,
the overdose has petered out in yellow urination
dripping tears.
A pull, and it is out
in the bucket.
Squashed, he continues,
suicidal, for tumultuous reasons, small abortions, live.
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
The absence in the trees
is like a whisper,
and I remember old words that fell
like little leaves.
And tomorrow I hope I will listen
and walk back with you through the
wisdom of your hidden meanings.
Trying to make sense of your leanings
and all I was missing.
Because the absence of you
just leaves me,
and the memories of trees
that we played in as children.
And of parents who always
believed in forgiveness
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
Here we lay between the mountains and the sky
Wishing that the moon would move us as it does the tides
And our dreams line up likewise
Thinking that the rotation
Of these celestial creations
Could somehow mimic the movements
Of our minuscule lives
Men want to be god's
So we place ourselves at the center of these astronomic mechanisms
Thinking that somehow we can find meaning in them
Yet instead we build hollow beings
Shells meant to intimidate and support our screaming
Our theories on life and the philosophies on this inherent meaning
Or at least our perception thereof being biased
Towards our personal leanings
I mean
How can one think
That he has a part to play in the motion of the stars
The universe is an infinite play
And we are not the actors, or even on the stage
We are the audience left in awe
Awaiting the right moment to applause
What I am assured is going to be a monumental display
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
Turned in the morning
Surrounded by book
And bottle
All subtly drowned
In the love
Of learning.
Li Po and Beckett
Solemnly cover my
Leanings
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
Scream
Hold your breath, don't look down
take the pills before you drown.
Pretty hues, a rainbow cure
to salve your soul, to make you pure.
Sing your song in darkened corners,
use your light to help you through
let your mind be free of borders
feel no shame in being you.
Do not run from your reflection,
seek the starlight in your eyes
listen not to others leanings,
stand your ground, ignore the lies.
Then when you are feeling stronger,
your battle scars a faded dream
I hope that peace will settle gently
upon your brow to quell your scream.
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 6:05 AM UTC