"massages" poems
He is;
caving in her walls, raising up her hips
tighten his grips, pulling her into him
crashing her body into his like waterfalls
her jaw drops as he massages her walls
motioned by her motions
his motions are
stirred up with deep emotions
It lifts her up to give him a rise
their thirsty bodies capitalize on the synchronized ride
eyes closed like they are hypnotized
her peaks climbing the highest of highs
temperature rising, fire between her thighs
her soothing heat, his body mesmerized
she came so hard even he is satisfied
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful ********** backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, ******* iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer ***** good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
You like to say love disappeared.
And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish"
shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.
Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.
I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I,
never
ever
nevermore, words with friends. Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.
I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you. But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in
and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck
next
Flashback to the present
--and--
she still telling me how I don't get it
stressed
unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.
Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us! Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican? Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers
mid-day massages
"Midnight Maunders"
at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently
we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!
"and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3
thought you was slick huh,
thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared"
but she never leaves.
She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Hailstorms with big winds, trees writhing in breezes
Coyotes howling in moonlight, dogs when they sneezes
Alloys and carved toys, stone gargoyles with wings
These are a few of my favorite things.
Skunk smells carried gently on nocturnal breezes
Sly double entendres and tickley teases
Beautiful salmon colored sunsets that make my jaw drop
Smell of pine 'n cedar in my sauna and wood shop!
Dolphins and doggies and toddlers and mooses
Saunas and cold plunges and honking V-flying gooses
Small mutts and storytellers and Pixar cartoons
Crazy call of the Maine dark of night loons
These are some of my nurturing tunes!
Volcanoes with lava and magma all oozing
Cross country skiing just gliding and cruising
Receiving massages unwinding and unbruising
I love my collections of adhesives and strings
These are a few of my favorite things!
So when the wasps sting
When the bored people whine
Wen I'm feeling dispirited and sad
I just think of a few of my favorite things
And I don't feel…so…bad!
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
i laid down across the desks
like always
and started writing
like always.
i felt her hands on the back of
my upper thigh
she wasn't trying to arouse me
but i could feel her little fingers
bumping up my thigh in
a rhythm, thumping while she texted on her phone
and i felt a light touch on my ****
a packet of papers
and another pair of hands doing work
on their work
on my ****
and i felt the light massages of her fingers on my thigh
and i wondered if other girls felt this way
when they were touched
and i wondered what made me different
and if i was different.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Smoke tokes out of the monkey's head, embers embellish empathic light enlightening gypsy nymphs from miles around, a glowing lighthouse haven heaven in nirvana massages lavender bubbles upon pores restoring strength to warriors of the rainbow tribe."
Wind rustles with us...
Stay grounded, you're found before you're even lost. Some get tossed and turned by the sea, but a smooth one never created a skilled pirate with third-eye versatile switch-blade heartbeat ink scribed on blood-vessel maps, following the soul tattoos and taboo time scars along with the azurite lightning stars shooting in our brain.
Time stops sometimes...
*Seasons change DNA re-arranges as we grow goin' with our own flow down the subconscious ocean, sometimes watchin' sunsets into a haze of sweet *** sweat and green cigarette peacetime sufi twirling our conscious to the north star crown chakra.*
Love is. Always.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Window to the world
You give me so much joy.
And make me feel so safe.
Looking at your screen
I can go any where
And your soft massages tell me there is some thing to see
I can play games with you
And some times you play games with me
Suddenly with out warning you show me
Things I let be
You torment me.
I turn away
Trying to close the window but you trick
You toy
Making me hit a button I don't want.
No no no.
Let me go back
LET ME UNDO IT!
But no what is done is done
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
This poem casts a line from insomnia to morning
On the wind of a prayer that whatever bites, holds on.
See I have counted eleven score and ten,
with rainbow like curves of my neck -
contemptuous beasts leaping in formation
each bleating out a preach of vague platitudes;
A narrative for the night sky.
My hands clamour at keys for escape
until I tumble headfirst into a web so vast
it has ensnared the whole world wide -
millennials are living in-ter-net over in-the-world;
a new ultraviolence against humanity.
I beat my words into the screen until it breaks;
shattering scarlet emoticons like confetti
pouring over language as if it were a compliment.
My mind massages shapeless polypous thoughts
like tight constricted muscles aching for release.
3am casts these philosophies into horses,
whipping them into shape and speed
before the eyes of this statuesque ******
This anxious wakefulness begs my manic self to dance;
suggestively ********* tickets to ride like cleavage.
Sleep is fast becoming a neglected former engagement;
as my mind trips over fallen heroes
wades through my favourite mistakes
in a wonderland unfolding faster than I can fall
while the world beyond my window remains dark.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
You lie in your room and await my sensual massages.
You feel togetherness in this calming place
You lie, smiling eyes, as horrors flee.
You glance at life outside after you hear my voice.
You feel the warm hand through the thin cloth over your chest.
Your sighs are found; your moans are full, present.
Your body conceals everything I think, courage.
We thank them hearing what’s just begun has just begun.
Now we never see frowning faces.
Your wait is over, the day of freedom has arrived.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 9:44 AM UTC
The sand under my feet massages my soul
The sun wraps around my gently keeping me to my chair
The sea washing on shore soothes me to sleep
This is where I want to be
Always with the sand, sun and sea.
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 4:59 PM UTC
***there's a certain pain
you can't explain
although you've tried
it has no name
it starts out right
between the eyes
then makes it's way
into the mind
of this your sure
there is no cure
of what ails you
to the core
still you try
with all your might
as you turn to
the massage of rhyme
you choose a poem
known or unknown
you can cling to
and not let go
you sense relief
as it massages deep
giving over to
your basic needs
as the pain
slowly fades
you know that all
will be okay***
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
Orchid pod spreads
gossamer mouth opens
subtle click of saliva,
trace across the paper-thin petal,
tickle across the veins where blood rushes new life,
smooth like wet latex, tongue massages a route around the world,
face buried in field of color
osmopheric scent of cinnamon
apples
nickel
overcomes,
come over me
pour the dew across my lips
drown me in the waves
that make your muscles cry my name,
nine point nine and the world cracks open,
like the ghostly leftover milk bath
of a virgin's first cleansing after loss of maidenhead,
it spills over us.
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 7:50 PM UTC
White foam drifting, turquoise waves swaying gently
to the shore. Looking out to open endlessness. Feeling
insignificant and vulnerable, yet relaxed as the sand
between your toes massages away every pain.
Carelessness fills up your rosy body as heat heals
your bones. Dancing overcomes you as you spin alone
on the crest where sea and land embrace. Your mind
is finally blank in thought and peace settles throughout
the delicate shades of the bright blue horizon which
is reflected by the sun deep down into your soul.
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 12:15 PM UTC
The Stripper
When time is of the essence,
I await your overdue presence.
When you're not here, I'm so alone,
***** how could you lose your phone.
I hate not knowing where you are,
tonight I'm gonna make your ***** purr.
You borrow my car and I get scared,
I've already had it twice repaired.
Your beauty is unmatched,
no other couple is more attached.
When you moved in, I was nervous,
to any kind of pain, we are impervious.
All massages have a happy ending,
on Twitter, our love is now trending.
You love to cook, I love to clean,
I'm always nice, you're always mean.
You were a stripper when we first met,
I was very rich and you were in debt.
I bailed you out from your jam,
now I'm in trouble with Uncle Sam.
We are broke, but we have each other,
soon we'll be out from this cloud cover.
Maybe it's time to go back stripping,
even though my eyes will be dripping.
For a second job, I'll sell drugs,
I know plenty of **** and thugs.
Now our life is back on track,
we will always have each others back.
Now you got a new phone and a car,
then you ran off with an upcoming rock star.
That's the story of my life,
so I stabbed that ***** with my knife.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
Soufflé light massages my eyes
A cool oven breeze puts out the lies
I am a Goner,
no lives
Lived this day as
boredom gallops through.
Its hooves are in need of a deep clean
They don't allow the light to gleam.
So the light lets off steam
Horses halt, dragging thief feet in hope
of defeating this power,
wishing the paper would jam
But the sun, though none the wiser,
paints the walls and the faces.
Cooks a most creative meal.
Brings the stampede to a kneel.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
It was not my first intention
Courting, that is
Never my strongest of suits
Known to closest my true emotions
I let my colors speak for me
The crispness of my whites
Radiating pure innocence
The warmth and joy of my yellows
Welcoming
My orange hints
Full of desire and energy
The subtleness of my pinks
Portraying my delicacy and grace
Be around a bouquet of me
The sweetest thoughts of the most gentle sentiments
Will arise alone from my aroma
After having met my thorny stems
You are rewarded by my silky texture
My mesmerizing fragrance
The spectrum of my colors entice
I spread my own rainbow across the skies
I tease, I flirt
All to my liking
However seducing
Although said to be a natural
I prefer to be picked
Coat smooth as the most delicate of flowers
Queen of the Garden
Rosa is my name.
Different needs call for different hues
I am divine.
I am romantic.
The presence of me, pleasant
The perfume I emit, calming
Creative minds put me to good use
A trail lines the hall
Crimson flutters leave a path to your bedroom
Delicately placed aloft the best of Egyptian cotton
What better sight of affection to see?
The flush of color to my cheeks when we meet
The thumping of my hearts beat?
Rose petals on the sheets?
From sponge baths to massages
Chocolate dipped scarlet strawberries
Each affair we have is the most superb of quality
My red appearance not the deepest of color
But its beautiful elegance is the most sought after of shades
A symbol of deep burning undying passion
Signifying the most immortal dramatic love
The Red Rose is The Rose of all roses.
Rosa is my name.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
She comes here,
consumes nothing,
offers all
but what I desire.
Folds my laundry,
teaches me Thai,
goes down on me.
Massages my shoulders
to tempt sleep
in restless sheets.
But I cannot write
a lullaby
with her sleeping soundly,
like a lie,
by my side.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
Real Love
Love can be so very strange,
life you must now rearrange.
Butterflies in the tummy,
clam chowder is so yummy.
Naked massages, magic touch,
finger tips, I love so much.
When not home, I get lonely,
nothing about us, is a phony.
You're my very best friend,
I text you and hit send.
We fight more than we should,
I'd fix that if only I could.
Laying naked in the bed,
cuddling with you, no more said.
We were two halves, that became one,
my hot dog fits perfectly in your bun.
We never kiss and tell,
******* make us yell.
What's mine is also yours,
even my brand new fishing lures,
What's yours is also mine,
I don't quite fit in your Calvin Klein.
We share and share alike,
together we face problems,
that are headed down the pike.
Nothing can tear us apart,
I rode in a bus, and you in a **** cart.
On the day that we wed,
that night we will have a wet bed.
We will live happily ever after,
Lots of trust and a little laughter,
So if you ask me what is real love,
I don't know, but something not to get rid of.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
I am not familiar with your toothbrush,
not acquainted with it,
have no experience of it,
am unaware even of its colour.
I know that a toothbrush is an inanimate object.
It cannot feel,
cannot enjoy the closeness,
as it massages every surface of your teeth,
sliding in and out between your lips,
caressing your tongue, moving across
the inside of your cheeks.
It takes no pride
in performing its morning duty for you,
no pleasure in your gratitude
for the freshness it gives you.
It would be ridiculous,
surely,
to be envious of that lifeless,
insensate,
ultimately disposable
thing.
And yet ….
…. and yet I cannot totally eliminate
the feeling
as I imagine your toothbrush
in its daily moment
of intimacy
with you.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
Enchanted Evening
sipping iced lemon tea
the cooling sea breeze
refreshing, rejuvenating
dreaming on a hammock
under a coconut trea
enjoying the warmth of evening sun
just before the sunset
spending the last hours of the day
hours of standing, talking, writing...
now the time to relax
in a secret hideaway...
let the gentle wind massages your skin...
and pampers your day....
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 4:13 AM UTC
Once in a while its good to make a memory
make love wildly and climb walls
stain the clothes but not breaking a leg
How you attach yourself to them
A diversity challenge in motion
How will she know if you never said how you love her
Do that special thing to last
Abunch of calls, wrapped kisses,
massive massages.
Bite a little flesh and make a mark,
Fire memories to last even after
The journey together
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Cracklings
sweet sizzlin'
crickets
Blazing songs
the pine bark savagery
of sharp day's beauty
hunting
the heat on the
Russian borzoi
orange puffy fan
white silk
and vanilla
ice cream
butterflies
landing on my feet;
A current of salty
air breezin' deep
Blessed be! Laurels, Lovers
Shrines
Sighs, Tent massages,
Oleander dreams;
Sapphire mingles
aquamarine
within my
irises: infinite waves
Black portals of White Poets
Consciousness
The body is cool
chillin' in Wireless
Mocca
Beach Bar
Silver Star
Demant!
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
There's an illusion in vacations
You buy a holiday bundle to endless beaches
Expecting to melt into a puddle
From the wet sun, from the softest massages, from the savoury delicacies
Yet I find myself melted
The same numbing beat
Disguised as lofi background
The same screeching shrieks
Of strangers in the sun
The lack in detail as I see the same view
Everyday, the same restaurant every meal
A sameness away from home
In the sand a million footsteps form
In a uniform path from the sleepy gazebos to the ocean
The ocean stretching far and away
The horizon hiding the destination of the sun
No footsteps can lead me towards where I long
Stuck in a routine I cannot call my own
Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 8:53 AM UTC
It's there. In every smile
it hides in the creases of your lips
and when your eyes light up it's there in the empty spaces in between
laughing like darkness laughs when light can't catch it,
and light can never catch it completely,
it's there always, always always
in the way the summer sun dries your tears and
massages your shoulders, it's there.
In every word it's hiding there just behind your tongue.
Most of all it's there when you stare off at nothing,
down at the emerald carved grass, up at the stars,
at nothing and I can see your mind tick straight
through your eyes, I can see your soul screaming and
it's screaming and it's there in the screams
there in the back corner of you,
of your mind of the place so deep inside shadows of shadows
whisper secrets to themselves, the kind you're afraid to listen
to because you might see yourself too clearly
and it's there, it's all the way back there,
it's in every every and it's an impending failure,
a misunderstanding, an explosion, a fear. It's fear
and it's a waiting, a knowing, a certainty.
It's a knowing, and that's the scariest part.
Jun 13, 2010
Jun 13, 2010 at 6:54 PM UTC
Some dead things just won't lay down
We keep walking
Long after we've died
Wreaking havoc upon the living
Drowning
what little of ourselves that remains alive in
Vintage
Tears and shame
Throwing up on sidewalks
Homewrecking
Bringing the occasional young stranger home
To get that little drip of pleasure
From his heartbreak at dawn
But apparently
This kind of "self help"
Isn't working
Apparently
Tomatoe juice with celery sticks
Massages
And people behind desks in
Ugly polyester suits with framed papers on their walls and a prescription or two
Is now
Rehab for the dead
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC