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"memorable" poems
They drove me across the country, from the busy city where we departed to intimate villages where they recessed, and spent a star filled, moonlit night singing songs, their bodies casting long, wavy shadows from campfires they huddled around. Just as I got too cold and my wheels couldn't turn anymore did they finally turn the spark plugs, revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity producing heat. Sometimes they pushed until I shoved and scraped my rubber on asphalt, on rocks, on sand, on boulders big and small, and I hit a flat-line; the air I could hold in no longer. They rode me into a forest whose undergrowth was as thick as a bears' fur during the winter, and redwood that spanned the horizon you thought it could pat the constellations. A forest teeming with life that one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan-- never wanting to leave Neverland. And I could see it in their soft faces and squinting eyes, bright and lit up with joy, every detail apparent as if I burst my headlights into high-beam, directly on them. It was there I ran out of gas and my engines parched for oil, from the endless adventure that was exhilarating and memorable. One could, as a result, easily forget responsibilities. There was no service or refill station nearby, so I was abandoned where I parked, flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis, dilapidated suspension. I've proved my worth from when I was brought in and over time it wasn't enough. Only repairing, never maintaining.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Walking Engine
*she dragged me out of the house knowing i was feeling down not allowing me to wallow in my self pity, she dressed me,         painted my face                fashioned my hair, that’s my girl friend at Juliana’s, small family owned Italian restaurant, a gem of a find, she said, Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity (she leaves a memorable impression) she introduced me as her bestie with a twinkle in her eye young (as all under 30 people are to me) handsome, dark thick curly haired, with dancing eyes, a serving towel over his left arm nodded with a genuine smile i smiled back despite my mood wine was swirled, smelled, sampled and selected a captivating performance, executed expertly she watched me watching him describe the specials   with a melodic Italian accent transforming my mood garlic knots wafting with his stride, placed on the table with a small bowl of marinara sauce still hovering in his long lean fingers it slipped, splattering red stain on the pristine white cloth without skipping a beat his eyes poured into mine words emerged “forgive me, your beauty made me nervous”*
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
the waiter
I know it's just been a week But I'm already beginning to miss you And I'm not the only one You do make an impact On anyone who has been lucky enough To get to know you Whether it be family or friends Or maybe even total strangers! Anyway, we've had some great times together I shall never forget our trip to the UK And the fun we had there Especially the Wimbledon camping experience Would you have believed me then If I had told you That you would end up returning there to study In a matter of three years? Mysterious indeed, are the ways In which Fate works Our trip to USA was equally memorable Who will ever forget that iconic moment When you identified a McDonald's cafe from the plane? Nothing, absolutely nothing ever Escapes those beady eyes of yours This is one of the many things I love about you We may not spend a lot of time talking to each other But you understand me very well Perhaps more than I understand myself And I know that I can always count on you Anyway, I am getting too sentimental Have a good time out there I'm sure you'll find new friends In fact, as I write this You seem to be making progress on that front already Try to balance studies and housework as much as you can And most importantly Take care of yourself Whatever problems you might face Know that you're not alone We have your back always, no matter what It is your happiness Rather than what course you do Or what job you may find That matters to us the most So, on that note Let me wish you all the very best Take care and stay in touch Miss you loads
0
Sep 25, 2022
Sep 25, 2022 at 12:32 PM UTC
Poem dedicated to my sister in London
I know it's just been a week But I'm already beginning to miss you And I'm not the only one You do make an impact On anyone who has been lucky enough To get to know you Whether it be family or friends Or maybe even total strangers! Anyway, we've had some great times together I shall never forget our trip to the UK And the fun we had there Especially the Wimbledon camping experience Would you have believed me then If I had told you That you would end up returning there to study In a matter of three years? Mysterious indeed, are the ways In which Fate works Our trip to USA was equally memorable Who will ever forget that iconic moment When you identified a McDonald's cafe from the plane? Nothing, absolutely nothing ever Escapes those beady eyes of yours This is one of the many things I love about you We may not spend a lot of time talking to each other But you understand me very well Perhaps more than I understand myself And I know that I can always count on you Anyway, I am getting too sentimental Have a good time out there I'm sure you'll find new friends In fact, as I write this You seem to be making progress on that front already Try to balance studies and housework as much as you can And most importantly Take care of yourself Whatever problems you might face Know that you're not alone We have your back always, no matter what It is your happiness Rather than what course you do Or what job you may find That matters to us the most So, on that note Let me wish you all the very best Take care and stay in touch Miss you loads
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47
I like to think that I'm a mixture of a sunflower, a lioness, and a tortoise. why? simply because a sunflower is exuberant, vibrant in color, flows softly and carelessly with the wind, plain and simple, Intriguing to say the lease. why a lioness? because she is Queen of the Sahara desert. she is loyal, she is independent and does not fully need to depend on a male, though when given the right one, she'll go through many lengths to accommodate him. she is also full in color,  plastered with battle scars to prove that she is of worth and can handle the meat thrown at her with nothing but scavengers surrounding her, tempting her. why a tortoise? because they are slow and steady, live on land with feet as claws, being able to dig into troubles and come out more wise than before. Also they can retrieve back into their cave for as long and as endless as they want, solitude is acceptable and perfered. one is noticeable yet, easily breakable and disposable. one is lazy, yet keen one is small, yet can take on the world for three hundred and thirty years. I'll be forever, and memorable, and radiant.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 5:22 AM UTC
SLR
Birds ate there all eatables flapping their wings as a dance trimming and preen of the wings jump here there, losing no chance black, blue, brown their cute colours short, long, slim, heavy, lightweight wings and flight memorable all in hurry to have fate chirp in low high sound, fresh mood they were neat, beautiful smart search everywhere want of food giving an end, at the start each one looking for some good bit sip enough to quench thirst no one waiting, for its turn a cute gay bird, find it first while the lyrics touch my soul chirp, chirp, chirp was their tweet, song making a norm; fresh my mood melodious their sweet song ripe fruit there serve passer-by there were trees to grant a shade there was rule 'No Restriction' beauty of leaves not yet fade pan was waiting to serve them one sharp sip hurry to fly child fell down while knocked at rock help! Help! Shoutinnocent cry sound dangerous, **** of earth crackling, falling, housing, wall help, no rescue love or hate site was changed in front of all no charm, fame, concert at all there was no work, club or shop speech for help was useless try any search team, rescue flop winking eyes now teary one no-one could found there a bun there no signs of living one no care there, no deal, no done birds ate there all eatables flapping their wings as a dance trimming and preen of the wings jump here there, losing no chance chirp, chirp sad song low high sound they were neat, beautiful smart search everywhere want of food giving an end, at the star each one looking for some good bit sip enough, quench the thirst no one waiting, for its turn cute bird could not find it first while the lyrics, touch my soul chirp, chirp, chirp was their sad song making a norm, my sad mood melodious, fair sad song no fruit there for passer-by no trees there to grant a shade they were buried, there, somewhere no green leaves at risk of fade all the owners slept and pressed sound dangerous lifeless rock ruined everywhere tragic song mud, stone, sand, all-cause of shock no help, care there, love or hate there was silence as no play no pan waiting there at all birds could find a broken tray you reveal it then I know my pangs are more than a sea there is link between the two soul and body, You and me
0
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
BY THE SUDDEN CRASHED HOUSES
Birds ate there all eatables flapping their wings as a dance trimming and preen of the wings jump here there, losing no chance black, blue, brown their cute colours short, long, slim, heavy, lightweight wings and flight memorable all in hurry to have fate chirp in low high sound, fresh mood they were neat, beautiful smart search everywhere want of food giving an end, at the start each one looking for some good bit sip enough to quench thirst no one waiting, for its turn a cute gay bird, find it first while the lyrics touch my soul chirp, chirp, chirp was their tweet, song making a norm; fresh my mood melodious their sweet song ripe fruit there serve passer-by there were trees to grant a shade there was rule 'No Restriction' beauty of leaves not yet fade pan was waiting to serve them one sharp sip hurry to fly child fell down while knocked at rock help! Help! Shoutinnocent cry sound dangerous, **** of earth crackling, falling, housing, wall help, no rescue love or hate site was changed in front of all no charm, fame, concert at all there was no work, club or shop speech for help was useless try any search team, rescue flop winking eyes now teary one no-one could found there a bun there no signs of living one no care there, no deal, no done birds ate there all eatables flapping their wings as a dance trimming and preen of the wings jump here there, losing no chance chirp, chirp sad song low high sound they were neat, beautiful smart search everywhere want of food giving an end, at the star each one looking for some good bit sip enough, quench the thirst no one waiting, for its turn cute bird could not find it first while the lyrics, touch my soul chirp, chirp, chirp was their sad song making a norm, my sad mood melodious, fair sad song no fruit there for passer-by no trees there to grant a shade they were buried, there, somewhere no green leaves at risk of fade all the owners slept and pressed sound dangerous lifeless rock ruined everywhere tragic song mud, stone, sand, all-cause of shock no help, care there, love or hate there was silence as no play no pan waiting there at all birds could find a broken tray you reveal it then I know my pangs are more than a sea there is link between the two soul and body, You and me
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72
Large and wide Deep and Cool Filled with the purest water inside It was our village's hallmark pool.. Stone lined walls on all sides WIth steps going down to the water And stones for washing clothes Which also doubled for scrubbing our feet.. Live with fish and water snakes Who were friends with us kids, Frogs who would sing chorus during the rains and ferns green and bright on the walls. With overhanging trees on the banks We came running and dived into the water somersaulted and torpedoed and swam in all fashions and styles... Swimming and diving from the banks We played "catch me if you can" from the time we are back from schools Till it is dark and when calls come from our homes. With swollen finger tips and red eyes, but After the long swim and bath Having dinner right away and slipping into a good night's sleep... Days where there were no TVs to watch Days where there no homeworks to be done Days where what mattered most were friends Days which take us to the sweet childhood.. Gone is the pride of our village there are no kids who play in the water For there is no water in the pond except for a few months during the rains Kids are no longer kids They have TV to watch Phone and computers to play Virtual friends to play with Lucky we were to have such beautiful childhoods Such memorable friendships Such adventurous rainy seasons ....
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 4:52 AM UTC
The Village Pond...
Intro: Start with a hook sharp enough to catch many fish. Move into a broad outline of topic. Add some examples to peek the interest. End with a sentence that captures your thoughts. (Start the way you feel it should be). Body: Flavorful topic sentence to open paragraph one. State in detail specific examples and definitions. Follow with a reference or two, This keeps suspicion off you. Keep same format for paragraph two and three. (Continue on the feel that increases how you started). (Or retrograde and start a new direction). Conclusion: Wake the reader back up with thesaurus found words. State again the reason for your thoughts. Honing specifically on what you want to say, Without of course bringing in new info. End with a memorable sign off. (End with completing your thoughts). (Or start a new idea entirely), (Not leaving enough room for explanation).
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Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
English Is Format (Creativity Is Free)
Craving your luscious lips right next to mine. Reminiscing the moment when we experienced Cloud Nine. It began with a French kiss, then biting your hard ******* That further progressed to smacking your buttocks, creating small ripples.    As our clothes depart, we escalated the ****** tension with every touch we had marked. Passion so intense, penetrating ever so deep; We grasped the feeling of ecstasy till that moment when we couldn’t breathe. Experiencing love and bliss that felt like an eternity…    How fortunate were we to experience the alignment of our souls unbound. Till the moment we parted ways, leaving memorable traces so profound.    By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Reminiscing Love
Clusters of stars burst to life in your eyes. Your heart is like Nebulus; Orion  - your mind. You are a Constellation Of magical sensations, No natural explanation Can anyone find. Glorious spectacle. Worthy and respectable. Very unpredictable; A Constellation sublime. Fireworks are boring. I'd rather be adoring The beauty of your glory. A vision in the sky. Suspended over mortals. No entry through your portals. No duplicated models. You're one of a kind. You are a Constellation. A memorable elation. You'll have my admiration Until the day I die.
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Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 9:19 AM UTC
A Constellation
This yellow saree she wore Just once in her life had wrapped A coy twenty-year-old bride Tentatively setting her dainty foot Into the hesitant bridal home . Somewhere in the backwoods Several industrious silkworms Had spun miles of salivary yarn In the foliage of the mulberry tree To make this golden yellow saree . The rustle of her silk drowned The wails of the boiling cocoons The worms died that beauty would live In their plaintive cries lay bridal hopes . My mother, the bride of yesteryears, Is now as non-existent as the worms That had ceased to exist spinning The smooth silk for her bridal finery . Her bridal fragrance lives on among The delicate folds of these gossamer silks That the worms had died weaving. Death is so fragrant , so memorable.
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Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 6:03 AM UTC
My mother’s silk
Make your poems Memorable, That’s what I say. No need to be incredible, Just let them play. Read them with your inner voice, Write them that way too. Hear the music in those words, This I’m telling You. In ancient times these poems were songs, Remembered off by heart. At least you’d call them statements, Knowledge to impart. Iambic metre’s very common yes, And so of course is rhyme: To make these verses remembered Through the course of time. Yet verse is best as poetry, Lyrical if you will. We have to write with feeling, And give the reader a thrill. Paul Butters
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Remember
Her face displayed a smile, Her skin made out of false matters, She painted herself in gold. How beautiful where her skin, Her skin striking in the sun, The paint shone bright, And inchmeal, she melts. How could you paint Plastic out of gold? Have you dreamt of a world Filled with her infamous thoughts? Have you lived in a world Where her existence Is just a living nightmare? Beings? Night terrors? All because of a toxic Barbie doll. You sit by my wooden dresser There in the corner of my bedroom. Sweeter you look in front of me, Than the way you chatter behind me. Every piece I hold onto, Thee steal and smirk... Doing it as if I have not yet caught. You loved taking my heart into your palm. Breaking them into pieces And would make ******* out of them. What a waste for me to let you Break it for me. Call me bossy, Maybe I’m just clever. You could be so jealous I guess I’m just smart. Do you have those brains, too? I’ve heard you had none. You’re pulling me down, While you had nothing to brag about. The best of me, Oh that crap of yours, I give it my all, While you had none. Responsibility, what a word. Recalling the first times, You seemed to look innocent. It was memorable for you never liked me, Neither did I. “Best friend”? It is such a believable name, Isn’t it? But, I don’t remember it. “Stop being my friend” ****** then leave me behind. I would not be the one doing it for you. Opening your diary, While you never read mine. You ask how I was, I answered, “I’m fine.” Your concern? Angelic yet fake. Look now who’s a Barbie in her smile. I  am not playing puppets, I just knew what to do. I just had a lot of things in mind, Wishing you told me yours. I saw those words you held against me, “She’s this girl and she’s that.” You little ****** don’t be such a brat. My mother taught me gossiping is bad, Why do you do it to me? I looked like a villain but I was just a victim. Oh, I learned in my life... How I could say “no”, It is brave, little one. And to learn is to never trust And to never talk to a Barbie doll.
0
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 7:43 AM UTC
Barbie Doll
Her face displayed a smile, Her skin made out of false matters, She painted herself in gold. How beautiful where her skin, Her skin striking in the sun, The paint shone bright, And inchmeal, she melts. How could you paint Plastic out of gold? Have you dreamt of a world Filled with her infamous thoughts? Have you lived in a world Where her existence Is just a living nightmare? Beings? Night terrors? All because of a toxic Barbie doll. You sit by my wooden dresser There in the corner of my bedroom. Sweeter you look in front of me, Than the way you chatter behind me. Every piece I hold onto, Thee steal and smirk... Doing it as if I have not yet caught. You loved taking my heart into your palm. Breaking them into pieces And would make ******* out of them. What a waste for me to let you Break it for me. Call me bossy, Maybe I’m just clever. You could be so jealous I guess I’m just smart. Do you have those brains, too? I’ve heard you had none. You’re pulling me down, While you had nothing to brag about. The best of me, Oh that crap of yours, I give it my all, While you had none. Responsibility, what a word. Recalling the first times, You seemed to look innocent. It was memorable for you never liked me, Neither did I. “Best friend”? It is such a believable name, Isn’t it? But, I don’t remember it. “Stop being my friend” ****** then leave me behind. I would not be the one doing it for you. Opening your diary, While you never read mine. You ask how I was, I answered, “I’m fine.” Your concern? Angelic yet fake. Look now who’s a Barbie in her smile. I  am not playing puppets, I just knew what to do. I just had a lot of things in mind, Wishing you told me yours. I saw those words you held against me, “She’s this girl and she’s that.” You little ****** don’t be such a brat. My mother taught me gossiping is bad, Why do you do it to me? I looked like a villain but I was just a victim. Oh, I learned in my life... How I could say “no”, It is brave, little one. And to learn is to never trust And to never talk to a Barbie doll.
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75
Its not All The makeup I wear That keeps me having A glow That you can't catch. Its my pain That leaves in The rain A memorable Stench.
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Stench makeup
The pain lingers like blisters on the bottom of your foot after walking around Disneyland all day Where all the memories are beautiful, but that hurt stays with you everywhere you go You know that everything is going to be okay and the next ride will make you forget how badly it hurts But until that next ride you walk the park, so happy you get to be there, yet holding in the tears And as much as the pain has your attention it was still your most memorable time, and you would do it all over again
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Disneyland
she’s the girl who sets a room on fire with laughs or real flame, and she stands in that same flame; ranting about herself with blissful intention: aries. she’s the girl who mows the lawn all day to throw a memorable party on perfectly pitched grass; but then spends the entire party with that one guy on that one roof, just the two of them: taurus. she’s the girl who ***** you fiercest only to then display sudden and crippling bouts of madness; she’s one of a kind, or two of a kind, and she means some kind of love: gemini. she’s the girl who you fall for so easily, and she falls for you so easily, and everything is a dream; but a dream transforms, seasons transform, and the peopled cities with them: cancer. she’s the girl who steals the show every time, and she leans on you when she’s tired and lonely; she reads science fiction books and tells you all the endings, strange planets fixtured in her dreams: leo. she’s the girl who thinks too much, drinks too much, and weighs you for all your words; but words are her demise as she digs her arms deeper into the dirt to catch that feeling: virgo. she’s the girl who piles a shrine of shiny occult objects and spools through men like shiny other objects; she has a beautiful heart, holy or not, but without a doubt, entirely stylish: libra. she’s the girl who doesn't believe a ******* thing you say but kisses you harder when you say it; she takes you up the hill to her folks and they sacrifice you for blood mana: scorpio. she’s the girl who knows you best and knows even better she’s far beyond the depths of your league; she has deafening dreams, with or without you in them; for ruins she will climb or create: sagittarius. she’s the girl who buys the popcorn and eats the popcorn and sulks on the couch while tonguing kernels out of her teeth; she will never truly love you, just the idea of you: capricorn. she’s the girl who saves your life with a tracheotomy when you nearly die on that plum street seed; she will leave you for a another man, a man with a good rifle and a warm little tent: aquarius. she’s the girl who sees synchronicity in all things, all life, all dreams and emanations; she will love you until the smell of mexico drags her away upon a neverending weekend: pisces.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 6:38 AM UTC
zodiac
she’s the girl who sets a room on fire with laughs or real flame, and she stands in that same flame; ranting about herself with blissful intention: aries. she’s the girl who mows the lawn all day to throw a memorable party on perfectly pitched grass; but then spends the entire party with that one guy on that one roof, just the two of them: taurus. she’s the girl who ***** you fiercest only to then display sudden and crippling bouts of madness; she’s one of a kind, or two of a kind, and she means some kind of love: gemini. she’s the girl who you fall for so easily, and she falls for you so easily, and everything is a dream; but a dream transforms, seasons transform, and the peopled cities with them: cancer. she’s the girl who steals the show every time, and she leans on you when she’s tired and lonely; she reads science fiction books and tells you all the endings, strange planets fixtured in her dreams: leo. she’s the girl who thinks too much, drinks too much, and weighs you for all your words; but words are her demise as she digs her arms deeper into the dirt to catch that feeling: virgo. she’s the girl who piles a shrine of shiny occult objects and spools through men like shiny other objects; she has a beautiful heart, holy or not, but without a doubt, entirely stylish: libra. she’s the girl who doesn't believe a ******* thing you say but kisses you harder when you say it; she takes you up the hill to her folks and they sacrifice you for blood mana: scorpio. she’s the girl who knows you best and knows even better she’s far beyond the depths of your league; she has deafening dreams, with or without you in them; for ruins she will climb or create: sagittarius. she’s the girl who buys the popcorn and eats the popcorn and sulks on the couch while tonguing kernels out of her teeth; she will never truly love you, just the idea of you: capricorn. she’s the girl who saves your life with a tracheotomy when you nearly die on that plum street seed; she will leave you for a another man, a man with a good rifle and a warm little tent: aquarius. she’s the girl who sees synchronicity in all things, all life, all dreams and emanations; she will love you until the smell of mexico drags her away upon a neverending weekend: pisces.
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48
It's not usual for me to be writing a poem this early But since I can't sleep yet and my soul seemed empty Here I am typing the words that came out eagerly The concept that was pushed out of bravery I lost my Sunshine and so darkness evaded Ate my emotion and in Heaven I was rejected On Earth I stayed trapped, bruised, and depleted Away from the jewels all my life I have venerated Pain is inevitable but at the same time curable To a heart that is wounded, aftermath is memorable Recovering from the incident is somewhat imaginable Though at times it may seem unfathomable It's hard to understand when your mind is shut And the only thing that's open is your mouth and a "but" A hint to a conversation is all but a gut To start things through from where they should start I would like to apologize to those I've caused hurt With those words I've uttered and hearts I may have burnt An instance wherein I lose control of my emotion Such a lame and deep sign of depression Before I end this short release I thank thee for the glimpse Writing this gave me peace And hope it did give you ease
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May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 8:43 PM UTC
Sunrays On My Windowpane
Oh let’s sing Church bells ring Dingaling ling. Sing out loud Boldly and proud Enormous crowd. Hear those chants You debutants Some breathless pants. Poetry starts here, Perhaps with a beer Ask Shakespeare. Oral tradition An ongoing mission So start the audition. A memorable rhyme Lasts for all time Let’s make it chime. Free verse is still fine Bring in the wine And vary the line. Who cares if it scans You grammatical fans We don’t need your plans. So free up your souls Whatever your goals And loose those controls. Yes let your heart sing A bird on the wing Tingaling ling. If singing’s your thing Think what you’ll bring Tingaling ding. Paul Butters © PB 7\9\2018.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 4:44 AM UTC
Sing
"I love you." Their true feelings spoken, There's something to be said, To share their feelings - they're no longer weak. As they lay there in bed. As they lay there unafraid to speak. They can't see their future without one another. A deep a relationship, they are almost there. Emotions still roar like thunder. Hopes and Dreams, they now share. Not just sleeping together, but Making love. They hide no secrets, Tell no lies. Each other - They're proud of. Arguments now lead to Compromise. It's their first time. Emotions take over. Touching, Kissing, Feeling, Passion - the wait is over. Their feelings for each other, yet again, grow. Every one gets along fine. Questions, Answers, Conversations flow. Nervous - Meeting the family for the first time. He says he wants to be more serious - She agrees. Relationship is stronger. Arguments forgiven. Would we happy with each other? What we have, is this right? Frustrated with each other. First fight. He is lost in her beauty. Many Dates passed, the first now a memory. Dates and Dinners, Drinks and Movies. Date two, Date three. The first kiss - He gave her. A memorable night. Both on their best behaviour. A romantic dinner over candlelight. No hesitation shown. Arranged first date - No-one stalled. Spoke for the first time on the phone. Nervous -  Dialling their number, first call. Exciting emotions unlocked. The start of a relation. Numbers swapped. Shared a conversation. "Hello, Nice to meet you!"
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
Backwards Love
If she studies you with that particular look, and you know the one I'm indicating. Kick off your shoes and glide across the floor towards your loved one. Place your palm firmly on the back of her neck and your other at center mass. With your lips pressed firmly against hers, open her mouth and clean her teeth, stroke her taste buds, feel her heat and free your minds together as one exploding fire ******* soaring vertically with the sporadic curvature of the bottle rocket. Don't stop there, you've got her. She wants you to take complete control. Push her with gentle pressure against the nearest wall and allow progression. Fuse her neckline with your bite and move south to utilize her forearms and thighs. All the while you've cupped her **** cheeks like palming a basketball. From there on, use the organic passion that comes from within. She's giving herself to you. She will not hold this against you. On the contrary, this memorable concession of unbiased surrender is a gift, from your other to you. When it comes to a woman's love, these are some of the best times that you will be offered. Keep desire on fire and make your way to completion together. This recollection you guys are developing will hold years of reminiscence.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
This timeless glare transmission
I am not the girl you marry I am the girl who 10 years from now Will out of nowhere cross your mind In the midst of contentedness And have you wondering What happened to her I am not the girl you swear forever to I am the girl who you'll think of When you ***** your finger on the diamond ring You bought for the one you plan on spending your life with I am not the girl you have to try to forget I am not memorable In any particular way But one day you will think of me When you're sitting in a bar And the short blonde girl next to you Orders a glass Of whisky.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Whisky
I think I love too easily. I find it so simple to pick out the best traits in somebody. I like to know what makes people tick and what makes their pupils dilate. I can fall in love with the way they talk about their favorite shades of color and the way they pick out groceries. I am interested in the way people take their coffee and if they prefer tea better. and why herbal caffeinated I find myself loving people for their laughter and the crinkles beneath their eyes when they smile. And I think it’s so cute whenever they suppress their grins when they think of something funny or memorable. I love the way people talk about life and what’s on their mind; it’s nice to know that there is more more to discuss than the sounds on mattresses and the type of plant they inhale. You are beautiful. I love the way people spill their hearts out when they’re happy or when they’re sad. Sometimes, when they don’t let me love them, it makes me want to love them even more. And even when they don’t love me back, I still continue to love.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
love like no other