"lubricating" poems
He doesn't need Intra Ocular Lenses,
To dismember my defenses.
Without a Stethoscope,
He can hear my heart,
He won't have to take an MRI scan,
To know where to start.
He won't need to inject a syringe,
To romantically unhinge,
My every multiplying cell,
Into a palpitating craze.
He won't need a lubricating gel,
To ****** and amaze.
He won't require to operate
Nor investigate,
Me from head to toe,
To plainly know,
That I'm besotted,
my insides knotted,
My better sense clotted,
In deep rooted feeling,
Of immense love.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
I'm your Shiva feel my love
Wear my spirit like a glove
For my Goddess I will melt
Illuminate till I'm felt
In your body brews a storm
*** inside keep you warm
Every inch of you is fascinating
Hold your stare as I'm penetrating
You are divine feel my devotion
Explosive with every motion
From our bodies spills a potion
Lubricating just like lotion
Tasty is your elegance
Choose me make me relevant
To worship every inch of thee
Ravish taste you Spiritually
I am hard..I will grind
Do it fast take my time
Command me do as you wish
Cook for you your favorite dish
On the table or on the floor
Bend you over feel me some more
Seduction tastes a lot like sin
Spoils satisfying like a win
Bodies battle at the core
Spectacular is our ****** war
Pledge allegiance to my Queen
Feel this Shiva in your dreams
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
365Nectar #60 Devour Me
Fri. November 22, 2013 9:18 P.M.
Devour me...
A provocative passionate pouring
of pillaging and plundering...
A pleasing prowling
of a piercing plunderer...
A lovely, limp nymph
laid upon a sizzling alter...
Smoldering...
Awakening all the senses
a choking of lust
unleashes exhilarating
and
envelops you...
Effortlessly evoking ethereal...
a sinister seduction
seductively seduces
and hungry hips
breakdance with hysterical
Stimulating a surreal surge of a sweet seeping...
waiting...
impatiently...
For you to chisel
an unimaginable devouring...
S slow steady climb to the summit
of the ultimate ******
Time-
Time-
Time... a tool to employ flamboyantly...
immediately...
eargerly...
Expose my conquered heart
that leaks
of streams
of cream
of succulent sensation...
Expose my tamed moistness
that whispery whines
as you build a legacy
of torturous licking....
Seductively...
Slithering in spicy spirals
of stirring screams
from stormy shivers
of steamy anticipation
of your redefining touch...
Suddenly...
drowning in the sticky sensation
of all that is us...
A tender luscious love liquefying flesh
and penetrating souls...
We blend in blazing bliss
tapping taboo for titillating thrills
you rock a rowdy ravishing
inside me...
I whisper wet whimpers
and beg for bitten breast...
Our wrestling hips
hug, ***** and groan a hungry growling...
Pounded into saturated submission
I linger in lubricating dreams
for you-
to...
devour me.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Tracing smoke with dry ice fingertips,
I hold my breath and begin to float.
The heat of a bellies past burden
steams to my head, until I begin to rise.
No where to go, except everywhere I'm late,
so I drift along a black and blue sky pretending
to be a storm. Pressing clouds into my skin
that slowly evaporate into recovery along the way.
Unconscious and shattered, I land where I've
always been. Cloaked in dew drop kisses and
pink morning yawns, I could pull the earth over
my head just to snooze into eternity.
But there's a mouth at my neck, breathing sticky
lies and humid affairs. Each whisper a grain of
sand, filling my vision with a million fragments of fog.
Blurring what ever I was and who ever I will become.
I drink shape shifting water that always refills as
***** lubricating contorted lust and pages that
won't burn. Scraping scabs for clues and emptying
all my pockets for loose change as a compass for hope.
Slippery slumber, the hot air rises to make room for
cold confrontation and chilling truths. On every
surface you'll find manic scribbles that feel
like immortal truths
bleeding from my fingertips,
only to wake in silence with no resolution.
Just the melodic drone of recycled air from the AC.
Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 7:51 PM UTC
Heatwave.
Dust whirling,
after mobile departures,
in the decadence
of our innumerous crows'-feet.
The sweat of humidity
dropping on neutrally carpeted floors.
Beer lubricating
many a rusty throat
as human optimism
and pessimism
make friends with each other
in a warlike fashion.
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 7:20 AM UTC
Dear Mum,
I fell in love with an angel,
Although these feelings run deep but I can't tell.
Nothing hurts like loving from afar,
Because she doesn't love me the way I love her.
Her deep seated issues made her weak.
With the blush of innocence on her cheek.
At different intervals I would stare at her for long,
She was the beautiful theme of my song.
Nothing gave her tranquility like a blade and a cigar.
Her face like a Hollywood movie star.
But her arms were a gallery of secret scars.
Loving wholeheartedly was her undoing.
An imperfect being - A human so broken.
And the final nail in her coffin,
Was seeing her lover's lifeless body in the morning.
The words "Live Forever, Fly Away!" scribbled with
his blood on the mirror next to his arm.
A bottle of ***** on the sink, empty bottles of xanax
and a blade in his right palm.
Trapping herself in a room with no door.
Suffering from a kind of depression with no cure.
She gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but emptiness within.
She got on a ledge and tried to return home; to the sky.
She ruffled her arms once more, as if she could fly.
She fell.
Tear drops bounced off the skies and washed her blood away.
I didn't weep for the moments we never had. I shed a tear
for each word I never got a chance to say.
Three tear drops ran down my cheek, lubricating my lips.
- "I love you".
After midnight; under the cloak of darkness, watching the stars dance.
I solemnly whispered to the heavens seeking guidance.
I say a quick prayer begging God for repentance.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly.
Waiting for a miracle, a sign, an epiphany.
Just anything to stop me.
I found Dad's old revolver under his bed.
Please forgive me as I place it against my head.
I hope in this life you will someday understand,
The reason I'm pulling this trigger is to hold my angel's hand.
Yours Forever,
Elijah
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
We little light footed ants
are free from giant egos
as we throw them off and live
within our tiny bodies
And we find that we have
so much room,
so much room.
As we keep gravitating in
a love towards each other.
We work within an almost
sacrificial love for one another
This love so strong that
permeates our bodies it willingly
carries many times its weight freely.
As we find a freedom in a devotion
as we build a great life together.
Sometimes we let go of understanding
the world and humbly live close to
what feels a boundless earth.
As we realize with a beautiful
simplicity that much of the world
is above.
And we understand however big you
build your ego God and the big picture
have an understanding so much greater.
We see however elaborate your system
however beautiful your tower it is the
lubricating love which enables the whole
thing work.
We live with perfect honor with each other
as we build our empire on stone which
will never crumble.
Many giant egos show us disregard as they
think nothing of stamping on us.
But being humble beings we simply slip
between the many cracks of this world and
remain completely unharmed.
We know it is the being without ego
that finds himself so surrounded with
so much space and finds so very easy
to find his place.
Empty of ego we are drawn together
with so much love for one another
we just cannot get enough of each other.
As we build great structures almost invisible
to us which can only really be seen by giant
beings like Gods we feel our importance.
And as we work for this higher picture we
we cannot see we all merge together within
an unquestionable trust that always serves
the greater.
Living on a tiny point we feel the worlds
stresses collapsing infinity to a point.
Bursting balloons all pressures released
our souls sits back on energetic sofas.
Sitting on this micro dot we dance and rest
upon this junction spot.
So as we fumble and tumble around within
our daily routine choosing not to be tall
but to be born small.
Within a endless love threaded through million
of busy connecting little legs we work closely
together.
And in a deep cooperation we feel a
fusion as together we feel complete
in one giant heartbeat.
There is so much to be admired in the
beautiful busy working ant.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
Beads of sweat escaped from my forehead,
leaking from my back,
lubricating my hands and
making my work difficult.
Through years of practicing ever day,
The piano had become
something familiar,
something dear,
something intimate.
In it’s simple black and white surface,
I saw reflected years of commitment,
years of grueling effort,
and still something more:
a key to a future that is otherwise, unattainable.
Something that my yellow skin
would only stand in the way of.
Today, like a thousand days before,
I put everything that I had into my trade,
the only thing that made me unique,
my hands going numb
and my tongue growing thirsty.
Next to me, my guest watched
silently and intently,
with a focused expressing in her brown eyes,
carefully watching my hands as
they performed the song perfectly,
her lips curving into a smile
as I completed my song.
I began to play again,
content that my spectator was pleased with my work.
Her brown eyes focused upon my yellow hands-
her mouth curving upward into a contented grin
each time I completed the song,
her white hands clapping as I smiled,
enjoying the tiny limelight,
rejoicing in my handiwork-
the song that I had learned to play perfectly.
“Just like magic” she says.
Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 6:28 PM UTC
alarm
dogmatical snakebird dictator
**** rooster of electro maniacal damnation
wake
goober eyed ithyphallic mortal yahoo yawns
glacier shuffle to Midas’ bowl
brush
minty hairy pasty headed ********
seafoam ***** on white vanity beaches
shave
deceitful murderous metal cartel scraping
dead shrubs from yesterday’s winter
breakfast
egg flour chalk smack
guzzling bean kerosene
work
batshit bureaucratic badgers bludgeon
muktuk hamsters lubricating wheels of fortune
lunch
butcher’s dead friend between greasy toasted cement
harlot’s heavenly tomato mating cabbage cousin
work
taradiddle of martyrs at jargon’s temple blather
babble, bumble - copulation without ***********
dinner
unicorn steaks, butterfly sauté, and
leprechaun fingers, a side of manslaughter dolphin
sleep
a felon’s holiday
repeat
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 3:56 AM UTC
I've weighed the pranks:
Pulling out a chair;
Flooded fairways;
Skunky beer;
Onion candy apples;
Mayo in cream-filled donuts;
Lubricating jelly in handwash;
Polyurethaning soap;
Baking soda in ketchup bottles;
Flushing while the shower's in use;
Sending a welcome card on behalf of your friend to Kingdom Hall;
Eliot was right,
Snow in April is the cruelest.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
It’s in my soil that maybe only
a patch of mundane dust.
But the water within it
must not come close to tear
or else no rock from space
will hit the one and only
finest cut the polished earth.
But it can no longer hold
onto its lubricating drop
of water at its very heart
will loose it to one’s
disheartened cry!
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
"It's just another guy"
so you say; still you're spoken for
But who's to say a guy won't at least try
"It's just another guy"
so you say, that cracks you up by
a glass of fragile jokes cutting me by your response,
We'd both be jealous of the other making you smile
"It's just another guy"
so you say, when he licks his lips
Lubricating his lies, like I did to convince you
I wasn't jealous,- you still noticed something was amiss
"It's just another guy"
so you say, as you pretend to be friends
It all starts like that, a friendly compliment here
and there, the same way I said it when we started as friends
"It's just another guy"
so you say, till I also become just another guy
I'm told I'm overdramatic, in over my head,
but when you fall in love with someone else
Would you ask him or me why
"It's just another guy"
so you say, and I'm just a dog acting ******
Still a dog marks his territory, and if I marked
you with my heart; I did so with aim, to not miss
on making you my Miss
"It's just another guy"
so you say, but you can still treat a day like ****
Wasting your time talking about him,
as I fake a ****** smile that makes me feel like ****
The truth is,
I was once just another guy that stole
you first, from just another guy
And karma is a mistress that works in a cycle,
and I'm forced to comply to her this second time
Oct 3, 2023
Oct 3, 2023 at 3:12 PM UTC
Abstract, cohesive,
Invigorating, sobering
Hypothetical absolutes.
They begin purifying the ground,
Wearing not black, nor the noisy character of day, but the ambiance of the rising of the moon,
Stealing through the enclosure, lit as at a dark twilight.
Not robbers nor beggars; skilled and cunning they fertilize unholy ground,
as idolaters often do.
Riddled with holes, they take the appearance of the corpses of her…
They seem to respond to Him, Him, Him alone.
He yells, “Descend, descend!” and she holds His stare, unable to respond, dazed, feeling as if to have ordered the command herself.
At sea (The Atlantic): Specific in the attempts towards land, firm-browed.
Until Leonardo/Jack/Iscariot runs on and Hope falls (jumps?), over the side, lost to the sea.
Ariel after the witch.
(At least Lost At Sea and The Little Mermaid were nominated for an Oscar! Leo couldn’t come through for Titanic! she smirks.)
That anonymous grin slowly disappears.
The Father steals the chords,
His Son goes for the teeth,
Their Eternal Companion with the lips. Yet
He
Remains.
Cursing heaven and hell with the ****** features she has left, weeping.
Yet she ticks, follows the schedule, knows not of the Divine confirmation with lubricating Oil. (Confirmation of what, she asks.)
And she knows life’s supposed to be joyous and full-formed,
But this play is too complex for her to perform.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
This might be the Real
Transmission Mechanism
The niggerly water
lubricating a Trickle
Down
Greens in Rich hand
gets miserly saved
Yet earned on Poor back
miraculously makes it Rain
Washingtons fall
a few Jacksons scorch
land in lap
Even a Benjamin
swallows Trick Dollar
to **** a positive cash
flow
Bills stick on teats
just enough to buy
a comfort Doritos
bag a Brand name
snack for her little boy
So he'll grow up knowing
What value-added Marketing
taste like.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
Stranger danger, I am about to make all kinds of poets surrender... how? you wonder why? let me clarify :- let me amplify; my voice is sharper than a knife when I say I love Natalie
Adding a twist between different lives
i magnetise, form faster than they spread there lies
they say that I NEED TO BUY ***** JUST TO OPEN UP YOUR BIBLES
because i am possessed by Love demons
but to all Poets, i stand as a Villain; my messages stay hidden for someone with greater vision
you can't understand my cranium inside, i have a god's insight
I have been painting the future just to fall in love with the past
I miss them all! i miss my soul busked in the devil's mask
this is something that you will never outmatch! this is life vibrating a damb man's uvula
cute babies lubricating toys with saliva, while i am busy kissing a former lover in a world under, but above all you poets that slunder
Your words I plunder!
I am a first class writer
You can't bring me down
because I robbed you of your Crown!
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
Lubricating life with
pure love
doth remove
rust from the heart.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
january 11th, 2014
i feel like i'm getting bad again. my head constantly hurts from all the thoughts i have going through it. my mind simply won't stop racing, i think it's because i miss you, but i'm not sure. it's hard to say. write again soon, promise.
january 20th, 2014
i'm getting bad again. i think they're worried about me. i told them about how i missed you. they said to try to forget about you, but forgetting your best friend and your first love is hard to do. i've been biting my fingers to the bone to try to keep myself from thinking of you. it hasn't been working. write again soon, promise.
january 24th, 2014
i'm bad again. i miss you. you told me not to worry about you, that you're doing just fine. but she's going to hurt you. i know she is. the nausea this is causing me is something i didn't know I was capable of feeling. it's honestly terrifying to know your body can put these kinds of ailments upon you all because of a gut feeling you have. write again soon, promise.
january 28th, 2014
i'm over the edge. she kissed you and hurt you. her lips were like daggers against yours and she ended up stabbing you, just like i said she would. but you didn't listen. write again soon, promise.
january 31st, 2014
i don't know where i am. you're sad and so am i. my empathy is unnatural. i feel your vibes from 3,800 miles across the ocean. i miss you. it's hard to keep a grip on this pen with the blood lubricating my fingers. don't know when to write again, might be soon, might be later, but i'll try, promise.
february 2nd, 2014
i'm sorry for the blood on the paper, it's not easy to control it when it's constantly pouring out of the self inflicted wounds that for some reason they've refused to patch up. i told you she was wrong for you. i knew that you'd be leaving and i knew you'd find someone else but i thought you'd be smarter than this. try to hold the pen soon, promise.
february 4th, 2014
i can't stop shaking, i didn't think you'd get to me this much. my vomiting is uncontrollable, even though there's nothing left in my body to throw up. my veins are exhausted from me constantly prying them open with the same pair of scissors you once took away from me. i told you she wasn't right for you. i told you what would happen. you knew this is how it would end up. my selfishness has taken over and convoluted compassion for you is no longer there. you did this to me because you were never there and you won't ever be. you knew how much i thought i loved you and you know how well i take these things. but my feelings don't matter, they never did. you said you'd be there for me but you weren't anymore after you met her. she changed you for the worst. i can't even fathom to say goodbye to you, so i'll leave you with a final story, since you love them so much.
"i'll sit here in my hospital bed in this gown they've dressed me in that's stained with lines and spatters of blood and smoke my cigarette and think of you as my last thought before i go. sorry to worry you. goodbye, my dear."
last time i'll write, promise.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Unrestrained
Summer sweat slick skin sliding
Urgent
Homemade wine lubricating the distance
Between our whispering mouths
I want you
Cowboy boots knocking sideways shimmy
So ready for your deep sighs
To set my hips a dancing
This is late night country twang duos
Heart beat rhythms speed up like humming bird wings
Drinking deep of soft *** nectar
Eyes roll back in mid-moan wonder
Close now to seeing early morning fireworks
Fog rolls in over high peaked mountains
I am right there with them
Dewy. Dawn kissed.
Strung tight like guitar string strumming
This body's melody hums in tune with you
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC
It’s just
because now
the ants were never in my head until
then and these cogs need lubricating
too whirring in faster agitation.
Now I want.
in four years time there
will be four years placed here
again, now.
It’s just
if I remembered you and of
your mural I
can’t imagine not sitting
in the kitchen on
the floor, now.
Now, the similar
scene in
“Mona’s” bed
room.
(I do not
know Mona.
I did not
meet Mona that
night.)
It’s just
Now there isn’t
a cure for
the
spine warmth you
gave me
and the base
of my neck is
on fire.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Oh sickly stupid me,
I have never been so weak.
I always wanted a smart girl
Who could grasp my capacious vocabulary
She would learn and become better.
Oh sickly stupid truth,
Why do you have to come and…
And take from me what I think need.
Truth:
Too young-
Too smart-
Too beautiful
To be contained
Within the boundaries of a... anything.
And so away
You distant speck on the Horizon
Let my tears drown the last remnants of you from my sight.
While lubricating our transition
To another life.
Aug 5, 2010
Aug 5, 2010 at 5:55 PM UTC
Your black liquorice fingers taste like nostalgia hitting my gag reflex
as I am nauseated forwards
spitting out bile because it burns more than words;
your teeth are lemon lollipops
and your tongue and mine
lick greedily for a sugar hit
and a wince
before your fingers twist the tap
letting the water drown out your appetite;
I pull open the oven door and the smell rocks us backwards
butter makes a voyage
diffusing through the air to find the moisture of our tongues
and lubricating the crumbs of the cake
so that they fall through fingers
and we stand in a world of eyes into eyes
and hands into hands
and tongues into mouths.
And it tastes better.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
in the mornings
your lips taste bittersweet
lubricating my lips with premeditated longing
and cool passionate sorrows
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
I have never traded a barrel of oil directly
but my wheels smoothly turn on its lubricating properties
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC