"lusters" poems
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Round as the moon, to stare up.
I want to be looking at them when they come
Picking among the dumb minerals, the roots.
I see them already -- the pale, star-distance faces.
Now they are nothing, they are not even babies.
I imagine them without fathers or mothers, like the first gods.
They will wonder if I was important.
I should sugar and preserve my days like fruit!
My mirror is clouding over --
A few more breaths, and it will reflect nothing at all.
The flowers and the faces whiten to a sheet.
I do not trust the spirit. It escapes like steam
In dreams, through mouth-hole or eye-hole. I can't stop it.
One day it won't come back. Things aren't like that.
They stay, their little particular lusters
Warmed by much handling. They almost purr.
When the soles of my feet grow cold,
The blue eye of my tortoise will comfort me.
Let me have my copper cooking pots, let my rouge pots
Bloom about me like night flowers, with a good smell.
They will roll me up in bandages, they will store my heart
Under my feet in a neat parcel.
I shall hardly know myself. It will be dark,
And the shine of these small things sweeter than the face of Ishtar.
36.5k
Silent whispers through the air spinning up high
fallowed by lusters in the sky
reaching across throughout the tree's creating a beautiful seen
shining beyond what man knows
lightning such darkness
surly you must hear my prayer while I sit here in despair
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
I enjoy to walk
Alone in the dark
As the sun falters
And the moon shines and lusters
Bright from its ebony coat
And with every step an echo
So rythmically in tune
It matches my heart beating
As grasp in reality
Ever so loose
I ponder on monsters
Who called themselves men
On what twisted them to fiends
And brought them to change?
Is it treason that warped their hearts?
Maybe a lost love who crushed their ilusion?
Perhaps loneliness brought them this stupor?
Whatever it is that brought them so low
It destroyed their will, it broke their soul.
I ponder on love
I wonder how short it tends to be
And how we dwell on its loss
The suffering it brings.
How easy is it to feel a spark
To bring us from the brink of despair
Just to feel it´s mark
And where there was life, now there´s air.
And my thoughts grow darker
And my pace faster
Anticipating disaster
My eyes widen
I feel as if beset by spies
Who stalk from the shadows
Ready to strike
And I see it...
It is no spy
A beast before me
Clad in black
Eyes in red crimson
Stare sat me back
It fills me fright
I try to run
But stand paralized
My legs betray me
And the beast approches
With its back arched
And talons sharp
Holding me still
With its eyes...
It glared at me deeply
Almost feels pity
And whispers to me
"I am a monument to all you hold dear
For you clasp failure with a tight grip
It took a form in the being that before you stands
And is fear what drives forward
Not any feeling of pride
Deluding yourself in betterment
Inside you are nothing but lies"
I came to my knees
And I began to weep
The monster had tore my resolve
But deep within me
I could still feel
A shimmer, a last ray of hope
I can´t let it win
So I came to my feet
And stared and the brute
Clad in blackness so thick
It could block out the sun
And it´s shape had no shape
It twists and it warps
That piercing red stare
That stared straight to my soul
I said to the thing
"It is true what you say
It seems I can´t escape
From the mire of the past
The more I remain
The harder my escape
And the farther the distance
From achieving my plans
An edifice of failure
Given mortal nature
But mortal you are
All that is mortal can die
And when you do
I´ll be back to life"
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC
Oil and vinegar,
Sugar and spice,
Lust is ****** up,
and love is nice.
Lust can fool you,
to thinking you love,
or she/he loves you,
But be careful of the wolf
that will attack you.
Oil and vinegar,
Sugar and spice,
love is ****** up,
but also nice.
Keep that in mind, when you sing this song.
That love is not the game yet for the lust we play.
How it tricks us into being the fool of a lusters game.
Sep 15, 2021
Sep 15, 2021 at 1:14 PM UTC
Proactive hip gestures. To lady lusters. Do you know what it's like to have someone shove their hand down your pants involuntarily. Sip your free breeze bundles of Sundays. I'll float on.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
As always,
read aloud
and enjoy.
It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.
I mean sure,
hands’ve been held, lips’ve been locked, heart beats counted,
armpits tickled, eyelashes licked,
backs rubbed, hips hugged
but
It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.
720 hours of smiles and telephone conversations and ticket stubs and flowers and mixtapes and tree climbing and
waiting for the other to finish showering before the night begins and your recite again
the smiles and telephone conversations and ticket stubs and flowers.
43,200 minutes since that night.
That night that night fell softer than
eyelids overflowing with sleep.
Finding no full moon to mask,
The thin cloud cover sat in the sky
like gasps passing lips slightly parted,
like abandoned similes left suspended midsentence.
That night his house was
cold as a corpse,
empty as an elephant skeleton,
But between the two of them
They managed to salvage some warmth.
That night they whispered three words to each other
through sheets of white linen and teeth.
Three words,
the culmination of all they’d shared thus far,
Three words
worth more than any that’d follow
In the one month
30 days
720 hours
43,200 minutes
2,592,000 seconds since the first time they had ***
Yes it’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.
A full moon since they made love,
******
Poured the night’s libation into her drawing salty emotion from sincerity’s well giving back blood running blind turning brown against white cover down where three words were loosed from lips translating the ***** leaning into one learning from the other like lusters slipping in and out of fun like lovers finding oneself in the other.
But time can’t count all the ways things have changed.
And time can’t stand him standing out in the rain.
And he can’t remember which hit him harder,
her lips curving to form that big L word or
her hips arching to meet his.
And he could hardly discern pain from pleasure and confusion swam in their hands until paralysis overtook their power to put a stop to it and he finished before she could fish up even a single coo but that didn’t matter because he was in love and loved in return and all the sudden the Beatles are making a whole ******* lot of sense because
It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched,
And he doesn’t give a ****
He’s just happy to be in love.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 9:59 PM UTC
twinkle wrinkles, seen close up
they are the tracks of wind driven tears on a sunburned face,
at the edges of the eye,
past
the per if ery of what perfidy* made you think you saw.
come see how come we saw too far and fell from grace to glory.
That is the story.
The good new on the old new built bottom up,
like Gobekli-Tepi.
--- horizons past the lusters after
wisdom's arcane quarry ---
we live,
we learn, we die to know why and we do
as soon as forever starts
it never stopped, hence, forever is what we agree it is.
This, now we remain in until we die, moments from now,
then, now
breathe
or don't
ultimately, whence comes the will to breathe?
go on, answer.
or ignor, innocence is no excuse, you know.
these quest ions all have positive and negative points,
anionics seek cationics,
OHOH, what if cathode rays never got past the atmosphere,
those are causing all the static-info-friction
Bad vibe waves corrupting the qualcommsplitfreqs,
left from millions of hours of I love Lucy and
Dobie Gillis. Mr. Kruschev, build a wall.
Show our boys their counterparts failing to escape,
crucified on barbed wire west of the Brandenburg Gate,
Bel's gate, arche de tri'umph, eh? Confusion won the war,
but war won't work here. NULL ified it, we did, into the NULL with all its lies each time
we catch one. As good as never was.
*Poet's Policy of acknowledging previous ignorances,
acts of ignoring
resulting, effectively, in wasted years
perfidy (n.) means since
1590s, from Middle French perfidie (16c.), from Latin perfidia
"faithlessness, falsehood, treachery,"
from perfidus"faithless,"
from phrase per fidem decipere
"to deceive through trustingness,"
from per "through"
(from PIE root *per- (1) "forward," hence "through") + fidem (nominative fides) "faith" (from PIE root *bheidh- "to trust, confide, persuade").
[C]ombinations of wickedness would overwhelm the world by the advantage which licentious principles afford, did not those who have long practiced perfidy grow faithless to each other. [Samuel Johnson, "Life of Waller"]
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/perfidy#etymonline_v_12685>
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
It shines and lusters
Through any case, she tries to hide it
Its jagged edges sprawl, like the rays of the sun
Hypnotized by its beauty, she grabs hold of it
Edges piercing her fragile skin
But oh how the diamond glows
She barely notices the crimson
Gracefully floating through the pores on her delicate fingers
Connective tissue starts to mend the pain, lacerations become scars
She ignores the old wounds as she cannot leave the diamond be
She’ll hide it with her forever until she can no longer feel
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
The lusters of Spring is upon us
Inspiring a rainbow of lovely colours
As it blossoms into an abundance
Of distinctive flowers
Slowly maturing, in their seductive scents
Into natures natural beauty
Uncovering in its amazing
Unique shapes and sizes, quite pretty
On splashes, of smooth blankets of greenery
Neath its striking silhouette
As the ember sun embraces, releasing fluorescence
And embellishing lilies, orchids and rosettes
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
"hey ******* let's meet"
i'm glad you've come to that premise
the rain - its slick concrete
and so narrow
staining the streets,
i would shelter you
but here we are
at coffee dropping hello's
and following the pack
to high ground
i would
keep
my
scarf
wrapped
'round
my
pretty
head
from melting in the rain turning to snow
but little did i know
i should have given it to you
to keep you from turning the snow red as strawberries
these fall days you'll never know, here we go again
to define a relationship whose particular lusters ferry
us together, i don't see an end, but if you bend i'll know when
to go.
i like the way you smile, here in this quiet coffeehouse
despite you arguing with me, that is the cornucopia i offer
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
Oh, the power of the bean.
Fragrant brown beetle, crushed
and coaxed into my ***
Steaming water poured and purified through
and through.
The gurgle of brewed alertness,
A universal aroma wakes the house from sleep.
The morning light lusters,
too bright for weary eyes.
But just a sip! Aroused from hazy after-dreams.
Warmth and life progress
from lips to limbs.
The body is present;
the day has commenced.
Thank you,
my God in a mug.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
“With what stillness at last you appear in the valley,
Join your divine sounds filling the empty vessels of night,
As pillages silently alight upon the shrine you behold,
First sunlight reaches down to touch the tips of pedals,
Her eminent auspicious arm band lusters dulcet canticles,
Sublime reaches things with aptitude able to shrill aft,
Dwells of brilliant wires laurels hymns devout in tune,
May we soon again renew that song singing endlessly?
Abaft her green eyes omens mayhap as emissary divine,
The bewildered by visions apparitions beside a hidden perch,
It seems that the resonance of a dove calls from far away,
Placid content sung before the colored cathedra naiad,
Fronds not ado had not noticed the presence of a naiad,
I know not where this solemn revelry odyssey would end,
My conscious mind we have much to discuss young naiad,
I abiding with heath musing carried by the scent afore me,
Inexorable time that passes quickly as time has stride away,
Sing endless morn of light with the naiad piqued at my soul,
Steadfast heart draws me out of labyrinth and takes Naiad hand”
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/04/2019 ©
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
Your breath on my neck,
Wisps of warm and heavy air,
Sending a shiver down my neck
To my chest.
My stomach twists in a knot,
Yet I'm not nervous.
You lick your lips
Before you connect them
To my collarbone.
Moving up to my neck and ears
Parallel to your hands
On my hips,
Moving up to my belly and chest.
Your fingers
And lips
Explore my body
And with an exhale
The pleasure
In a muffled moan under your hand
Is released from my
Trembling body.
I bite your shoulder
As you explore deeper.
You look my in the eyes
And I stare back with lust.
"It feels so good
To be so bad."
Says my eyes.
During the night we are
Lusters
And thats all we'll ever be.
We melt into each other
Until the darkness turns to light.
You are forbidden.
I touch you
And I get burned
By our heat bonding.
Lust is real and bound to be,
But forbidden lust
Feels so wrong,
You can't help but feel
Good.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
Everyone's seeking fame here,
Thou Searcheth a like or two,
Just be thyself,
Now that is fame!!
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
"I'v been dancing in sin for a while now,
and I'v forgotten how the touch of a kind soul feels like,
I like strange women to be exact, I love the way she moves gauzing at every inch of her body like a painting admiring every stroke of art,
Though all I see is beauty I crave perfection,
I ache for power that would break down my walls than pin me on it, make me drown in her ora, sadly something is always missing in halo beauty, wanting to see the beauty in the way she thinks,
tell me where your thoughts drift too when I touch you,
I'v been dancing in sin for a while now,
Craving imperfections that would match my own,
you could be the Devil that would want to dance again, you can't fool me it would be fun to see you try, I see it in your smile, in your lusters eyes, I feel it in the way we dance my darling, acting like an angel so let us see what you're really made of maybe I'll be mistaken for ones in this life time"
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
In day she goes by her real name,
At night alls untamed,
Unmanaged,
Unsellable.
High to vegetative state..
Her stage she cannot be late,
Though not by choice doth she choose,
Born to win,
Dying to sin in a room of sparkled lights,
An lapdancing tools!!!!
These men await as demons to their devil,
They sit with *** in hand and puddles,
Of ***** smelling zippers..
***** things grow bigger!!!
Shh,
I cannot speak of such things,
Their madmen just for a fling,
As thine wives wait back at palace!!
Disguistingness impassionate!
Shes always thinking for her night to end,
As the lusters throw out ones!!!
They creep and and they shun,
Non containment there!
****** fluids shall they do dare,
Than the night goes silent death,
Upon her breathe,
*******
Secretion daint by stains,
Those crawlers seem to have left her!!!
For theirs a church around thine corner,
She quits,
And repents Soo quickingly...
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
I dream of you every night now, starting to remind me of some pop song. These dreams are what I look forward to every morning I wake, I can't seem to wait to lay my head down and slip away without holding on. Those soft kisses in some dark alley way, and the way your hands are shaped into mine as I press them over your head against the wall, your skin, god your skin! The way it lusters in the moon light as my fingers caress you from head to toe. God your skin! My hands on your waist and your hands on my hands, god! And when I wake from these dreams at 3:46 A.M. it truly pains me that you aren't beside me....
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
The shadow lusters
As the darkness glistens
By the rays of hope slowly fading.
And I lay here dead.
My head above clouds,
As the stars grow apart the skys
And descend to our world.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:32 AM UTC