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Cné Oct 2015
Ah yes, the magic of human touch,
Trusting to warm my soul's skin
Tis nature of loves connection, as such.

My body accepts, oh if you only knew
Like an honored guest, I grin
Anticipating the pleasures, one of the few.

Skin to skin, our bodies converse.
Uninhabited, my mind wander
Deep inside, my craving thirsts.

Artful hands sculpt with purpose
Lulling layers open, you're quite the artist
Soothing caress melt my body formless

I'm yours, silently, I surrender.
As my flesh cries out for more
Arching waves of splendor

Rewarded my senses sated.
With newfound clarity reborn
Mind, body and spirit replenished.

I thank you for your gift of touch.
Lovingly, I would return the favor,
as such.
Nothing is spoken, just being open to touch is the reward.
Kiz May 19
Smooth, strong, deep, therapeutic.
Hands playing on my skin like a virtuoso pianist.
Stroking, kneading, pressing.

With every stroke, his hands melt my stress.
Sooth my pains, physical and mental.
My anxiety fades. My mind rests.
Stroking, kneading, pressing.

His hands are sensual.
His eyes are closed, so his hands move on their own.
No distractions. Just natural. Instinctive.
Stroking, kneading, pressing.

I’m open and vulnerable, self conscious.
But his hands even sooth my flaws, and imperfections.
Press against places I keep covered.
Unflattering angles I would rather keep hidden,
But somehow his hands seem to find beauty even in that.
Stroking, kneading, pressing.

Dang....the hour is up.
Cné Jul 2017
If you were my sheets, and at my beck and call
fulfilling all my fantasies, into you, I would fall.
You'd cradle me so gently, and massage me everywhere
releasing all my juices, and all my  stress, and cares.

In splendor we'd heat up the room, and I'd crinkle every sheet
and when we were apart, I'd rejoice, every time we meet.
Pillows would cradling my face and head, where jasmine scented rests
blending of our fluids as our bodies, orgasmically attest.

We'd fall asleep together, and spoon throughout the night
and in the morning waking, to unimaginable delights.
Your hands of silken sheets caressing, exciting every nerve
giving me all the pleasures, and climaxes, in you, I am immersed!
TF actually wrote this and I changed a few words to fit an artist statement to go with the painting that is posted as my cover. He graciously allowed my to post as a collaboration. Thank you TF.
Scurry hurry
Shaking hands shaped by worry
tie the knot of plastic
A bubble home for the hard green cup
where brown and white
mixed lay married.

Wash rush
Dainty legs in dark blue denim
hasn't time to be romantic
A worn out sister played by hope
shuts the door panting.

  It clings to a robust tree
  head hidden under rosy pink    
  protective shield
  edged in yellow

  The fireflies

  
Sticky webs of empty lies packaged in boxes of deception by the wizard that doesn't work
sit dead on the small bedside table
like the results they provide.

Boxes and boxes of cozy containers
and cards of capsules
47 I counted them
current and extras
They choke my sight
then I am groped by the smooth blue robes worn by the youthful shepherd
posing aside a grey rock looking yonder
into the distance as insta-natural as possible in a pastel painted picture framed in wood against the wall.
  
  Unstable molecules in tiny airtubes,  
  many, breakdown and explode
  like little landmines
  A bio-luminescent lit ***** assaults a  
  dense night flashing brilliant
  to find a mate
  Six strong neon-green throbbing blinks
  Six slow seconds of unimaginable
  wordless dreamless dark.

  are bright.

  
I turn my head
The whole unsettling mass of reality
is torn apart into vibrant colorful morsels,
then reassembled
as my eyes  
settle
on

Her

"Oh God, if you're here, heal her now
and you'll have me. Show me what those confident tongues so eagerly confess.
Please!"

NOTHING
Another sticky empty square
covered in thick black-strap molasses
slapped to the face of the fool
who likes sweet things.

BUT

What happened to the omni-this, omni-that CEO of God enterprises?
"Go on Death" is what that means
"Go on Death do your job" is what it does

"It's your time.
It's to test your faith.
Gods plan."
All slogans for the man
who believes and dies.
  Culture creates the fool
  Hope keeps the fool
  Belief kills the fool
Thanks for doing what all those boxes
and all the pictures
on all the walls of the world do

FOOL

Her face,
a gaunt kind of skin-to-bone sight
a bad flavor
like a meal with no taste

Her mouth,
crack-lipped, framed by dry
delivers deadly blows to a heaving chest
that says; "Give me air"
yet lungs say no

Anguish,
is ****** from the pit of my cold stomach
then up through the spirit of a warm heart
I plaster the feeling in the shape of water.
My eyes puddle

I weep

It sticks

Love,

Falls

Fluttering as a twinkle
through soft beams of sunlight,
the drop glistens
plops
then dies
on the pink and blue checkered blanket.

All I have to offer are busky palms
to soothe this battered body
before you are torn apart by what
puts things like us together.

I swallow her frame

Her calf - bone

Squeeze and move

Her thigh,
my hand wraps completely
pinching a sausage sized piece of muscle
not big enough to walk
between plump thumb
and meaty middle

Squeeze and move

Her hip bone is angular
It fits flush in my hand
like the hard front peak of a cricket cap
when held above the grid

Squeeze and move

My chunky tentacles massage over
wire-thin barely blue throbless veins
that decorate her meatless paws
and twig-like fingers.

Squeeze and move
  
  It's after midnight
  Thick curds of desperation push
  again, through a splendid backside
  a special toosh
  slogging a dancing night-fever
  to beat the two-to-four,
  a beam as bright as a green day
  cuts through the black pitch of night

  

I hold her hand
A thin filling between two slices of mine
I look at her eyes and turn away

Have you ever been pulled from the center of  your heart, ripped head first through the narrow crack of your own chest, tossed aside like a skin-sheet onto a concrete glass-covered floor then squashed beneath the majesty of a billion dancing floor-clapping feet attached to a shapeless void shapeshifting as slideshows  between all things gone, here, and still to come, stopping on the body of a small blue boy that sings in ghostly echo;
"Don't turn away from this.
Look till you see me through the eyes of another because this too
will happen to you
Clap clap clap clap!
I'm coming for you.

Trapped in a square tunnel made of brick, walls wide enough for one bus no brakes to speed through, no escape,
I accept what will squash me
I Face it
I Stand before it

I stare at her eyes staring back at me
A deep dagger stare
Two parts steel
meshed
until there is only steel
It melts

I simmer the room in soft whisper;
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
I hold her hand,
patting the top as I warm the bottom
I smile for her, at me
I smile back, as me
  
  A skillful mimic
  Here I come
  I have light and breath
  I see yours
  I come at night
  Not for genes or ***
  I hunt and gut
  Hawking down I come as death

  
The gaps between her labored breaths become bigger and for a second I drift at the sight reappearing on the sandy dunes of an empty dessert space pushed by a dying wind I can barely feel.

A sharp salty tang toils the tip of my tongue and brings me back to her.

Her eyes

They have changed

Open

But

Soul

   less

     Soulless

     Desolate

   Like

That dessert

And that place where


*The Fireflies Lose their Light
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
October 2013

for Maria and Logan...

you need two hands, one foot.
count my years.
each finger, worth a decade.
each toe, well, a century...

birthdays.

point of inflection,
point of opportunity,
presents itself,
to rewrite history.

a second coat of paint,
gift-wrapped in weak excuses.
how I lied, how I ain't,
grimm-fated fairy tales
somebody created.

invisible suits of gold-cloth
worn to my party of
past rewrit and
future foretold.

one single thought,
memory,
seizes my heart,
as I fall to my knees.
cracks my temperate ease,
renders open the
woof and weave
of recycled deceptions,
causing all to be revealed
and ask,

what if the poetry ceases?

you know prostrate?
you taste grief?

have you not but
one pain,
one act,
one deed,
one memorization,
act of cowardice,
act of desertion,
mistake maden, taken,
for which
forgiveness
can never
be given,
be taken,
attained?

do, does, did.

let me then
win the birthday lottery,
let floods of relief from
daily chores, not drown me,
chauffeurs to drive,
masseurs to massage,
cooks to cook,
les delicious treats,
keep theologians, logicians
on retainer, if need
explanations.

none know, can provide,
still and yet, a
priestly sacred chord,
grants relief,
absolution,
song of hallelujah
the ache of
perpetuity worry,
that ancient pain,
grows fresher daily,
the loss of one,
of my body,
my primal knot
unreasonable,
everything should be
permitted to be untied,
on my birthday, no?

this day, these days
breathe through words,
molecules of vowels,
stem cells of consonants,
the fabric, the tissues of life,
veins are a dictionary
of corpuscles,
red blood cells are
nouns of nutrients.

this day, these days,
the infection of my soul
is tempered, kept at bay,
tamped down from the
full flowering
of white blood cells
of rhyme, verse.

what if the poetry ceases?

Though the bones creak,
the body they carry. resurrect
for morning, afternoon
and evening prayers.

thrice daily poetry I recite,
roses red, violets blue,
my marrow transfused.

though my prayers refused,
the poetry act immolates
the fringes of my disease,
for which the common cure
is not currently invented....

what if the poetry ceases?

but be assured, told
scientists hard at work,
on the
forgive n' forget drug.

meantime,
take a bubble bath in
rosemary and mint
trap some words,
tap some words into
your cell phone bone,
the poetry heat that
provides aspirin relief.

through this poem,
on one day annual,
I am relieved, relived
the muse is feted, sated,

gone for few moments
concerns, worries of
exposure today,
agnostic's foxhole of hell
is dis-remembered,
the gloss returns,
the faux dispatched,

ain't birthdays grand?

what if the poetry ceases?

what rhymes with
Sorrow?
mmmmm,
could it be
Morrow?

bath drains, rosemary and mint
odors dismissed, the  Argentine disparu,
the Spanish Medievalists,
the Neo-Raphaelites,
all gone,
didn't they have birthdays too?

didn't know
the Renaissance come
and go,
and nobody
tole ya?

please recall t'is the day
after my sweet city recorded my
naissance in the
Hospital of the Flowers
on Fifth Avenue.

the 'crats put the datum
in the bureau with the
night creams and
the statistics
as follows:

on this day + a few,
six or twenty decades ago +
a few centuries,
a question was born,
and an ache that is
sometimes relieved,
by a poem song.

though do not celebrate,
t'is a day to calibrate,
review, edit, tinker,
rewrite, often a stinker.

always one thought recycles:

what if the poetry ceases?

(how will I breathe?)
Notes: my birthday was a few weeks ago. One of a number poems I've written about birthdays.  This one was modified, but only slightly for Maria and Logan.
Äŧül Apr 2013
It was nightfall,
I felt very sleepy,
And I dozed-off
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.

Oh how strong he was!
All muscle unlike my body,
Stiffer, stronger & ***** he was!

She gave a bath,
And a massage too,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.

She caresses it sweetly,
And she kisses it too,
Yes, the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.

She kissed my stud,
A bit too much and,
The stud spewed its stomach
Out on her face,
In my most wild
Dreams-Dreams.

The girl's eyes were,
Teeming with tears,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.

As she was happy,
Tears were of joy,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
111 Words Of
My HP Poem #150
© Atul Kaushal
Pagan Paul Dec 2018
.
S – Sit down with me
N – Nibble my neck
U – Undo my top button
G – Gently massage my chest
G – Glance at me longingly
L – Let your inhibitions go
E – Enjoy the moment.



© Pagan Paul (04/12/18)
.
Kemy Sep 2018
*** with me is so amazing      
Hey, I’m just Paraphrasing      
However, I was listening to the artist, Rihanna singing this song      
As the song kept plugging along      
Not meaning to come on too strong      
With respect do not get me wrong      
I’ve often wondered, is *** of the body more powerful than *** of the mind      
And no, I do not have a feminist ax to grind      
I will choose my words on this topic and remain kind      
Well, at best that I can      
From my perspective related to this issue between woman and man      
Making love to the female body its ******, it’s pleasurable, and certainly it’s thrilling      
But once nature’s release has been prefilled      
The mind needs a dose of endorphins to be instilled      
Are you still with me on that concept      
I’m speaking for me who needs the combined effect
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
With someone capable of emotional grazing      
Blind dates, we talk about our passions or dreams      
Clothes still on, however, he gets what you mean      
Do we take this night one step farther      
We slept together      
Heated and passionate under silk covers, yet, he knew nothing about the weather      
We were definitely birds of a different feather      
His arms were not even that strong      
His brain got duller as the night prolonged
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sometimes is not all about trailblazing      
Computer Dating      
Keyboard translating      
Breathless words of debate      
Soulful elate      
No physical contact to rate      
But wait      
You can type on computer keys from sunrise to sunset      
If you cannot be bipartisan with words than you can’t articulate      
A break to give since we’ve just met      
Between you and me it’s now mental Russian Roulette      
Spinning my mind landing on red      
Keep your mouth closed as you lay in my bed      
Enticing words danced across my screen      
Pulling me in was all a squandered dream      
We’ll never again experience emotions under the covers      
****** of no analytical bonding from a distance lover      
Once again, a horse of another color 
     
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
In the midst of me praising you as our eyes are glazing      
One night stands      
First of all, you’re taking your life into your own hands      
No commands        
Sedated and scented juices mingling of its passion galore      
Lust filled desires and so much more      
No demands      
Talking on the go, and making no sense, well I be ****      
What a waste of a slam bam and thank you ma’am      
Mental *** on the brain I know it may sound insane      
But my God, it makes me rain      
Intellectual simulations have always been such a turn on      
Take me to task and then I’m far gone      
Rainbow coalitions      
I do not have any petitions      
Never in favor of anyone’s competitions      
Just me, my words, and I      
Reaching for that academic all time high      
Coming at you as I’m ******* with you      
The next morning, I would have told you a thing or two      
Something old or maybe something new      
It all depends on if I’ve pitied a fool      
Not my game, not in my arms      
Not fooled by undercover charms      
Capture my mind until the ringing of my alarm      
Wow, did we really just talk all night long      
Arms were very strong, your mind kept me warm while we discussed society’s storms      
One night stands      
Never with an intelligent man      
He needs a briefcase or a blueprint plan      
He could execute with his own mind      
On his own time      
Using his own dime      
Then he’s ready for my mind      
No prophylactics needed      
Once you gyrate my mind you’ve succeeded      
Feeding me words from the depths of your cerebral cortex to the powers that be      
Lightening my mind up like a Christmas tree      
Now you got me down on my knees      
Thanking you, as I please      
Was it good for you as it was for me
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Mind now resting in a dreamy phase, body has now been thoroughly praised      
Here comes the aftermath of sweet melodies to conversations      
Moaning out all kinds of pronunciations      
Affirmations      
Aspirations      
French words with exclamations      
Giving me perceptual palpitations      
From the knowledge of head ministrations      
Climbing the psychological throne once again      
While whispering words in my ear as my mind adheres      
Once mental energy has been locked in      
Slow dancing, and then a thrusting rush as we begin      
Words of revelations      
Taking my mind beyond the constellations      
To the height of my glorious crown      
I’ve created, rested, and now the essence of my intellect is winding down      
Mental capacity has once again been meticulously interrogated      
Hearts of the minds now segregated  
    
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sweet words whispered to your male ego, minds blazing        
Perceptual notations moving inside of me      
Bending me over, as you lick up and down my womanly creed      
A passionate quick kiss as your mind sinks into my intellectual abyss      
From my mind to your fathom lips      
Seductively gyrating my hips      
Raising the nature of your hard ****      
Love and Hugs        
Soft tongue bathing your body, massage oil, and caressing rubs
Innovation comes out of great human ingenuity and very personal passions.

Megan Smith
Lakhana Mnyani Oct 2017
She is the storm
That blows your mind
Moving  back and forth
With thunderstorm that massage your weary body
And lightning that shines your dreams

She comes with noise
Not to scare you
But sound you can dance to
Glittering floors swept by wind

She's not just any storm
But thunderstorm when you need sound
Lighting when you in darkness
Wind to blow away all your ***** laundry

She is the storm
Moving back and forth

-Lakhana Mnyani
Mohamed Nasir Jun 2018
Alone away from you she gave a smile
At me. Of joys she offered not with guilt;
To freshen rest my aching limbs awhile,
I meekly followed thought I couldn't wilt.
She stood beside me, I lay on the bed,
And faced the floor fearing. But what surprise!
Her hands wandered, softly groans must I've made;
Unashamedly felt so good, I felt nice.
Her strokes softened sinews, muscles less strained;
With oil she eased my rolling hills and fields.
She rubbed, heightened senses, her fingers trained
To massage, how to make the body yeilds.
For life is sweet without secrets to keep;
When hearts afar our love be rooted deep.
This was my one time experience of having a body massage. Once in my neighbouring country Thailand. Although the masseur  was a woman but there was no question of ever wanting to cheat on my wife.
Tori Mar 8
Sleepless dreaming, framed by screaming.
Is she breathing?
Take the time.
One. Two. Three.
I wonder…
Four. Five.
Is death kind?
Six. Seven.
Will she make it?
Eight. Nine.
Never mind.
Marble eyes roll in their pockets,
Arms and legs seizing their sockets,
Groaning breath sends lips aquiver,
Her tiny figure writhes and shivers.
Ten. Eleven
How much longer?
Twelve. Dear God!
Let her be stronger.
A Toneless voice of mock assurance,
Won’t deter these pulsing currents,
Tongues detained by ball and chain,
Massage the air to ease the pain.
Thirteen comes.
Now slowly, easy.
Fourteen.
The sound of gentle breathing.
Dimple-drawn, her mouths sweet boarders,
Pull that weak smile from its cask,
Inhale relief, a hard won nectar,
Her limbs all leaded from their task.
One nod from death,
one swift departure
and for the moment, all is fine.
The clock's cold hands
continue turning,
So don't forget to take the time.
Rabbit Dec 2018
It's getting hard to bite my tongue,
Feeling like grabbing you by the hand and leading you out of the office on a run.

Just a little alone time
To sit face to face
Play some footsies for a minute
Talk and wander off into space.

****, I miss you when your not here
Even though I can't talk in person I feel content just knowing that you're near.

Don't get me started on how perfect that you really are, the old feelings are coming back of wanting to run away from you far.

Cuz the desire to touch that skin and kiss you on your neck is growing so strong,
while you're on your walk want to pull you in my room, kick out Isaiah, and make out all night long.

Rub some Coconut oil in my palm,
and massage that **** body till it almost feels wrong.

Then stop and quickly put it in reverse, we're just getting to know each other I don't want no curse.

You're the type of woman that's worth the wait, show you my heart, take my time, get to know you, and put it in the hands of fate.

For the record I have never came this hard or cared for another with my heart so full,
with you it's different, unstoppable, it's like a planetary gravitational pull.

Please know that you are gorgeous all that and a bag of chips,
intelligent, spiritual, funny, beautiful, strong, and **** with a voluptuous body and hips.

I feel you Melissa even when your not around.
Queen so perfect, come a little closer, stand next to me, and put on this crown.
Dedicated to the Queen of my heart...
Sally A Bayan Feb 20
(Life Episodes)

Going home this evening,
i noticed a full moon following me
it reminded me of that far-off door i see
at the corners of my eyes, and mind,
closes and opens, as the wind nudges me...
...easily, i see myself through that door,
returning to those busy days.....where,

even in the dark, work beckoned...
even when tired, or when slowed down
by pregnancy, there was work to be done
in every nook, every room of our humble house...
a tummy massage calmed the baby
stretching in its womb,
i, too, needed a break before i became numb...

the rooster never stopped crowing,
demanding attention, constantly reminding...

beaming faces came with rough
edges.....unannounced, but enough
to brighten a cloudy day...laughter was
a much needed respite, from weariness,

there.....was where hair started to gray...

sun, moon and stars held my fears at bay...
day or night...night or day,
even at midnight, i and they
spoke in silence...i was always awake
  
it is never easy...life is not fair,
yet, i'm thankful, i feel, my cup runneth over
i'm a bird, calmly soaring high
i'm a pilot, trusting in God his every flight

countless days and nights...of watching
sun, moon and stars, taught me
all things, good and bad...come to an ending,
all in due time.........never in a hurry...
  


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 19, 2019
Fallen Nov 2018
Just because the frost needs time to thaw
Before the flowers can really grow
Just because the clouds need time to gather
Before cold winds turn to snow
Just because our hearts and our minds often fight
Just because we have to give them time to understand each other
Just because our hearts seem to be eons ahead
of our doubting, dismissive minds
It does not mean we never know
What we truly want

We just have to give ourselves time.

The amazing graces sung by grizzled sailors
As they sailed human cargo from the delirious African coast
To the throes of the Western Empire.
And these grizzled sailors
the odd lonely ducks
Seeking self validation from their lofty superiors
Set sail to embark on a crime against humanity
For a living

And in the end, your Sunday School favorite
Amazing Grace
how sweet the sound!
It is perhaps the single most church song
That doesn’t make you feel guilty or fake happy
It’s simply a song that unabashedly feels

I know what I want
I just have to give myself time
Which is a concept I hardly believe in anymore
Time

I am aware that I can be a fierce wind
Capable of tearing down everything
In a tumultuous bluster of love
But also feverish madness
Manic, sure, but also a wonderful spontaneity
If something feels truly sublime then how can it be wrong?

I am also capable of gentle breezes
Like the soft airy kisses of a whispering night wind
I am wind that can make your arm hairs tickle
I am wind that can gush and chill you to the bone
As I try to envelop you in a nurturing embrace

And if my tender gushing alarms you then please forgive me
For with every fire you ever built you have lit a fire in me
So suddenly I was frightened
At first that looking at you made me melt and burn
To ashes my heart was scattering and falling apart
What a frightening thought!
Unlike a moth I first shied away from your brilliance
And so from a delicate but deeply loving distance
Your presence warmed my chilly gusts
And as your flames gently licked the wind that grew stronger
So too my wild and wonderful breezes hungered for more warmth

Watch the fire deeply
See how the flames massage the air
Look above the fire and see that the air is falling apart
Its molecules expanding and undulating in the warmth
Heat is a beautiful thing
but intense
So is a strong wind

As you so warmed me so I longed to be nurturing
To fan your fire with my most spectacular torrent
A few things might have burned down
Like the walls we built over the decades
Walls of paper tigers guarding our souls
Well the wildfire we built together burnt those walls rightly down
Let’s admire the ruins of the false lives we’ve lived in the past
To protect the God residing within us
from the realm of the material world

Grace teaches our hearts to fear
And by grace our fears are overcome
Through faith I exist
Through hope I keep existing
But it is through love that I understand why
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