"mesh" poems - Hello Poetry

Fold me into your blanket like sheets your soothing flesh cooling my heat sheathing my rod into your mesh we mesh our flesh meets gates pressed firmly against me like raw meats we simmer from the heat our hearts beating like a drum beat we're set

0

Apr 1, 2017

Apr 1, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC

Styles

Beat

Fold me into your blanket like sheets your soothing flesh cooling my heat sheathing my rod into your mesh we mesh our flesh meets gates pressed firmly against me like raw meats we simmer from the heat our hearts beating like a drum beat we're set

17

Thinking of you, wishing you were here reminiscing about your lips the sweet scent of your hair our tongues touching my mouth, breathing in your air our bodies so close; temperatures so hot, we melt the air as our flesh mesh distance disappears I can feel your heartbeat, the feeling insane, two bodies becoming one as you take me in vein Your body paralyzed by my tremors I whisper your name you pulling me in closer deeply impaled by my frame your pleasure is mine its ours all the same two soulmates together we remain.

0

Jan 18, 2016

Jan 18, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC

Styles

Touch.

Thinking of you, wishing you were here reminiscing about your lips the sweet scent of your hair our tongues touching my mouth, breathing in your air our bodies so close; temperatures so hot, we melt the air as our flesh mesh distance disappears I can feel your heartbeat, the feeling insane, two bodies becoming one as you take me in vein Your body paralyzed by my tremors I whisper your name you pulling me in closer deeply impaled by my frame your pleasure is mine its ours all the same two soulmates together we remain.

22

These days have ebbed as Love's swell was checked: the waters in some places - all but dammed! But now at last I sense the rising tide and thank Temese for the current's turn; now following that great writhing snake to where its pulsing head will rake; over the mucky soiled watery beds of Woolwich Greenwich Limehouse - and under - Tower Bridge To that great gloating sight A crown of a billion lights Blazing day and night: And somewhere within In the slick oily warmth Our flood tides mesh, As over each other we wash. Hard thrusts wicked deep cuts given and received are recorded in that great mirror smoked! where with a tug and a shove on the banks in the streets through the loopy twists everything prospers in the glow as the decades decaying flow; each ***** bud red with new blood one after t'other flowers before their purple petals scatter. Let's on the luck o' the dice (you 'n' me!) ride out on the flotsam and jetsom that has carried us this far and as pleases merge.

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Aug 7, 2018

Aug 7, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC

ashleyq5

River Thames

These days have ebbed as Love's swell was checked: the waters in some places - all but dammed! But now at last I sense the rising tide and thank Temese for the current's turn; now following that great writhing snake to where its pulsing head will rake; over the mucky soiled watery beds of Woolwich Greenwich Limehouse - and under - Tower Bridge To that great gloating sight A crown of a billion lights Blazing day and night: And somewhere within In the slick oily warmth Our flood tides mesh, As over each other we wash. Hard thrusts wicked deep cuts given and received are recorded in that great mirror smoked! where with a tug and a shove on the banks in the streets through the loopy twists everything prospers in the glow as the decades decaying flow; each ***** bud red with new blood one after t'other flowers before their purple petals scatter. Let's on the luck o' the dice (you 'n' me!) ride out on the flotsam and jetsom that has carried us this far and as pleases merge.

45

We used to swing under the big willow tree We lived 3 doors down from each other We were princesses who fought dragons We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were Four years old was a cute age Fast forward a bit We went into elementary school innocent and young Boys had cooties Girls had cooties Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face We would always sit out field and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest Life was good Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting. It scared me and I would have to go home I would make you come with me three doors down Our moms didn’t laugh anymore By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced Eight years old was a confusing age Junior high was mean. Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers Boys just wanted to make out A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones We were the quiet ones Always flew under the radar Just trying to make it out alive We found a little spot to eat lunch under the stairs where no one would go We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming Thirteen years old was a sad age Highschool is another story You were put in the hospital for a month I was left at school alone I had to find more friends I found most of them were fake So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall You were really sick and we grew apart We were always close We will always love each other You tried to save me from myself But I didn’t let you Seventeen was an important age Now we are at different colleges I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test It’s sad We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore Our moms hardly talk You are a success and I am a failure We don’t really mesh I miss you every day I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom. I love you I’m sorry this has faded Just like everything else Nineteen years old is a dying age.

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Oct 12, 2016

Oct 12, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC

quiet-pointe

willow tree

We used to swing under the big willow tree We lived 3 doors down from each other We were princesses who fought dragons We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were Four years old was a cute age Fast forward a bit We went into elementary school innocent and young Boys had cooties Girls had cooties Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face We would always sit out field and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest Life was good Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting. It scared me and I would have to go home I would make you come with me three doors down Our moms didn’t laugh anymore By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced Eight years old was a confusing age Junior high was mean. Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers Boys just wanted to make out A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones We were the quiet ones Always flew under the radar Just trying to make it out alive We found a little spot to eat lunch under the stairs where no one would go We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming Thirteen years old was a sad age Highschool is another story You were put in the hospital for a month I was left at school alone I had to find more friends I found most of them were fake So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall You were really sick and we grew apart We were always close We will always love each other You tried to save me from myself But I didn’t let you Seventeen was an important age Now we are at different colleges I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test It’s sad We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore Our moms hardly talk You are a success and I am a failure We don’t really mesh I miss you every day I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom. I love you I’m sorry this has faded Just like everything else Nineteen years old is a dying age.

60

Dripping with wetness Tongue licking your wet lips Drips dripping as his mouth slips Your back curves as her waist dips Sliding inside your precipice, warm licks melt her core his length stretch her sore Soothing strong loathing Between your legs; imploding Fingers explore tendons screaming lions yearning for more folds of flesh mesh tongue swirling in juices fresh Fingers twirling insides tense destination distinguished

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Apr 17, 2018

Apr 17, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC

Styles

Taste

Dripping with wetness Tongue licking your wet lips Drips dripping as his mouth slips Your back curves as her waist dips Sliding inside your precipice, warm licks melt her core his length stretch her sore Soothing strong loathing Between your legs; imploding Fingers explore tendons screaming lions yearning for more folds of flesh mesh tongue swirling in juices fresh Fingers twirling insides tense destination distinguished

18

There exists a place on earth Where one can find true peace A place away from stress and pain A place where all of it will cease For some, it's near the ocean That a calm can always be found The waves carry all the stress away With that familiar relaxing sound The coolness of the water, And the warmth of sunny rays, It doesn't take very long at all Before the world melts away For others it's the forest That sets their mind at ease The world feels completely still When you're surrounded by tall trees The air somehow feels calmer It smells remarkably fresh Some birds tweet in the distance And your thoughts again can mesh So often we get caught up In the worries of the day We forget to worry about ourselves And take some time away So whether you go alone Or with someone you hold dear Make sure to find the time you need To make your head feel clear

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Jan 13, 2016

Jan 13, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC

willow-anne

Tranquility

There exists a place on earth Where one can find true peace A place away from stress and pain A place where all of it will cease For some, it's near the ocean That a calm can always be found The waves carry all the stress away With that familiar relaxing sound The coolness of the water, And the warmth of sunny rays, It doesn't take very long at all Before the world melts away For others it's the forest That sets their mind at ease The world feels completely still When you're surrounded by tall trees The air somehow feels calmer It smells remarkably fresh Some birds tweet in the distance And your thoughts again can mesh So often we get caught up In the worries of the day We forget to worry about ourselves And take some time away So whether you go alone Or with someone you hold dear Make sure to find the time you need To make your head feel clear

28

I exist as a mirror Wild lights have glazed over your skin My whispers are tarnished Our bodies a shield Against the coming chills of a brittle wind I linger with a breeze-like touch, It comes out hoarse and swollen. Thoughts uttered with a breath of regret Or a sigh of relief. Your face turns foreign, a mesh of dark warmth A light without the sun. We’re all a wounded red on the inside.

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Nov 22, 2014

Nov 22, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC

wild-myths

Always a nice girl

I exist as a mirror Wild lights have glazed over your skin My whispers are tarnished Our bodies a shield Against the coming chills of a brittle wind I linger with a breeze-like touch, It comes out hoarse and swollen. Thoughts uttered with a breath of regret Or a sigh of relief. Your face turns foreign, a mesh of dark warmth A light without the sun. We’re all a wounded red on the inside.

13

I. Neptune’s Theater A rock spins through the universal tumbler and its warm blue pools calcify as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath builds a lace castle with his fingertips Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald where painted parrots chat up cardinals butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows. Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem beneath an array of bioluminescent stars as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles. II. Sapien Siege The hot acidic hand of death grasps the mesh rends and tangles the ecosystem shattered reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars. Butterflies impaled cyanide-swooning damsels mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward coral to potash, corpses to coal. The pretender to the throne blinks rubs blurry lenses, kicks plastic fins and moves on to the next show Unseeing and unaware of the luminous filament in his wake. Self-appointed divinity, deus ex machina. ******************************************************************************************* Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.” Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.

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Jan 23, 2013

Jan 23, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC

ann-marcaida

Children of the Reef

I. Neptune’s Theater A rock spins through the universal tumbler and its warm blue pools calcify as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath builds a lace castle with his fingertips Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald where painted parrots chat up cardinals butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows. Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem beneath an array of bioluminescent stars as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles. II. Sapien Siege The hot acidic hand of death grasps the mesh rends and tangles the ecosystem shattered reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars. Butterflies impaled cyanide-swooning damsels mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward coral to potash, corpses to coal. The pretender to the throne blinks rubs blurry lenses, kicks plastic fins and moves on to the next show Unseeing and unaware of the luminous filament in his wake. Self-appointed divinity, deus ex machina. ******************************************************************************************* Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.” Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.

33

Her mesh dress, sheer, a daring art, Igniting chaos within my heart. A bronzed goddess, beauty untamed, Sculpted grace, temptation named. Her presence stirred my soul to roam, Transporting thoughts far from home. Her lips, a sip of heady delight, Her sway, a beacon in the night. Magnetic, profound, her spell takes hold, A force too strong, too bold to withhold. No retreat, no turning away, Her allure commands, I’m here to stay. Entangled deep, resistance fades, In her spell, all reason sways. An odyssey begins, passion’s fire ignites, A journey endless through starry nights.

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Jan 23, 2025

Jan 23, 2025 at 8:18 PM UTC

Styles

Sheer

Her mesh dress, sheer, a daring art, Igniting chaos within my heart. A bronzed goddess, beauty untamed, Sculpted grace, temptation named. Her presence stirred my soul to roam, Transporting thoughts far from home. Her lips, a sip of heady delight, Her sway, a beacon in the night. Magnetic, profound, her spell takes hold, A force too strong, too bold to withhold. No retreat, no turning away, Her allure commands, I’m here to stay. Entangled deep, resistance fades, In her spell, all reason sways. An odyssey begins, passion’s fire ignites, A journey endless through starry nights.

16

Can you not Spare a soft word You look at her With devouring eyes Grasp her in your arms Pull her close Anger when another dares touch But yet You do not speak Not what she needs to hear Tell her she is beautiful When you hold her near Speak not only with actions at hand You are woman, I am man When you stake your claim For the world to see Lean towards her ear Whisper you are mine my dear Be not only a lover of the flesh Speak that she is tantalizing When both you mesh It should not be hard To utter the sound From your gullet Out of your mouth Those lips produce Ectasy abound Create more With words from whence for

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Jan 10, 2017

Jan 10, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC

karina-veirs

Softly whisper

Can you not Spare a soft word You look at her With devouring eyes Grasp her in your arms Pull her close Anger when another dares touch But yet You do not speak Not what she needs to hear Tell her she is beautiful When you hold her near Speak not only with actions at hand You are woman, I am man When you stake your claim For the world to see Lean towards her ear Whisper you are mine my dear Be not only a lover of the flesh Speak that she is tantalizing When both you mesh It should not be hard To utter the sound From your gullet Out of your mouth Those lips produce Ectasy abound Create more With words from whence for

29

flesh meeting flesh devoured by emotion two soulmates mesh bodies momentarily woven in the pleasures of the flesh lost in each others depths speaking words unspoken

0

Mar 3, 2017

Mar 3, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC

Styles

Velvet

flesh meeting flesh devoured by emotion two soulmates mesh bodies momentarily woven in the pleasures of the flesh lost in each others depths speaking words unspoken

7

There is a new fire in my soul its curves wrap themselves around me sinuous like a hot slithery sheath of flesh snakes of pleasure twirling in my deepest womanflow pumping inside my veins of mesh Those licks of flames caress as they spew they **** in my spirit spit it out anew undulating hips matching my own a middle east song igniting my bones suffusing my blood with the raw, the bare filling me up with sparkling lava, so rare This combination makes for a recipe hot like a piquant ghost pepper in my spiciest spot Now let me weave words Let me conjure your liquids let me drench colors upon your eyelids, my spirit's proximity vivid Let me drown you in madness in frothiest frequencies of love let this symphony play out powers screeching above and as this vivacity beckons the soul in your eyes our stormiest spirals will spill out rainbow fire and rise for as we grow and reach out there is a death of limitation as freedom breaks out in ocean-soaked emancipation Our mutual worlds heal each other's hurts as my tongue licks your wounds rejuvenation asserts hot springs of lifeflow filling up cells sensations of textures a ringing of bells So as I weave this spell around you fear not that you will disappear or thine own self lose for we have only to soar as we coax out the muse

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Nov 27, 2016

Nov 27, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC

lora-lee

seducing the muse

There is a new fire in my soul its curves wrap themselves around me sinuous like a hot slithery sheath of flesh snakes of pleasure twirling in my deepest womanflow pumping inside my veins of mesh Those licks of flames caress as they spew they **** in my spirit spit it out anew undulating hips matching my own a middle east song igniting my bones suffusing my blood with the raw, the bare filling me up with sparkling lava, so rare This combination makes for a recipe hot like a piquant ghost pepper in my spiciest spot Now let me weave words Let me conjure your liquids let me drench colors upon your eyelids, my spirit's proximity vivid Let me drown you in madness in frothiest frequencies of love let this symphony play out powers screeching above and as this vivacity beckons the soul in your eyes our stormiest spirals will spill out rainbow fire and rise for as we grow and reach out there is a death of limitation as freedom breaks out in ocean-soaked emancipation Our mutual worlds heal each other's hurts as my tongue licks your wounds rejuvenation asserts hot springs of lifeflow filling up cells sensations of textures a ringing of bells So as I weave this spell around you fear not that you will disappear or thine own self lose for we have only to soar as we coax out the muse

74

Worthless, stupid, ugly too. Tongue-tied, but that’s only around you. My dreams are horrors that I earn, For them to be real ill always yearn. My death, sweet poison, saves my life, By ending it by gun or knife. Monsters, demons, tear my flesh, Or I get stuck in barbwire mesh. Whatever the torture I take it as dished. Never sweet dreams, as I so often wished. But why should I have them? I'm crooked and mean. Or well, that’s what I think. Could be low self-esteem. I hate that I love you, I hate that I care. I hate that when you’re upset; I wish I were there. I just really hate myself for not hating you. And for loving you in the first place, I hate that one too. Your name, once golden, now a twisted black vine. In her name I find envy, I wish you were mine. You were and you will be, ill see that its so. And if it doesn’t work out... you know where ill go. It's a cop-out; I'm chicken, too scared to go on. I hope it's you who finds me, dead in your lawn. Razor in hand, I wish I could do it. Iv tried once before, but that time I blew it. But this time I can, and I know that I will. If not by blade, slip off my windowsill. Or drown in my pool, or forget my inhaler. Though I know it won’t matter. This girl, you wont save her. You loved her, you killed her, and you’ve broken her heart. She has nothing-good left, besides poems and art. She’s lost, and she’s lonely, and I know she’s scared too. And the only thing that could help just won’t. And that’s you.

0

Nov 6, 2012

Nov 6, 2012 at 2:33 AM UTC

lilly-tereza

Dreams

Worthless, stupid, ugly too. Tongue-tied, but that’s only around you. My dreams are horrors that I earn, For them to be real ill always yearn. My death, sweet poison, saves my life, By ending it by gun or knife. Monsters, demons, tear my flesh, Or I get stuck in barbwire mesh. Whatever the torture I take it as dished. Never sweet dreams, as I so often wished. But why should I have them? I'm crooked and mean. Or well, that’s what I think. Could be low self-esteem. I hate that I love you, I hate that I care. I hate that when you’re upset; I wish I were there. I just really hate myself for not hating you. And for loving you in the first place, I hate that one too. Your name, once golden, now a twisted black vine. In her name I find envy, I wish you were mine. You were and you will be, ill see that its so. And if it doesn’t work out... you know where ill go. It's a cop-out; I'm chicken, too scared to go on. I hope it's you who finds me, dead in your lawn. Razor in hand, I wish I could do it. Iv tried once before, but that time I blew it. But this time I can, and I know that I will. If not by blade, slip off my windowsill. Or drown in my pool, or forget my inhaler. Though I know it won’t matter. This girl, you wont save her. You loved her, you killed her, and you’ve broken her heart. She has nothing-good left, besides poems and art. She’s lost, and she’s lonely, and I know she’s scared too. And the only thing that could help just won’t. And that’s you.

32

I want to pet the pet under your wet mesh underwear touch you there until you soaked down there two finger, a pair ******* disappear arching your back as I pin you there and hold you down you *** again like karma coming around this time its and happy end

0

Apr 3, 2017

Apr 3, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC

Styles

Pet

I want to pet the pet under your wet mesh underwear touch you there until you soaked down there two finger, a pair ******* disappear arching your back as I pin you there and hold you down you *** again like karma coming around this time its and happy end

14

I want to let the folds of your flesh mesh with my flesh as we lay abreast making love like we are having *** fingernails pressed against my chest the slower I go the wetter it gets the deeper I go the better it gets.

0

Mar 18, 2021

Mar 18, 2021 at 8:51 AM UTC

Styles

Flesh of my Flesh

I want to let the folds of your flesh mesh with my flesh as we lay abreast making love like we are having *** fingernails pressed against my chest the slower I go the wetter it gets the deeper I go the better it gets.

12

Born to the night in the cry of wolves, We are….inked lovers spilling secrets, under velvet skies, Shrouding the night in silver spools; The season of silver silence, hangs upon shades of silken soul, This midnight offering, a white entice; My hair shimmers brightly, a wet fleece of gold, of shadow and starlight, And shimmering hues, emerald and sapphire breathe kindred embers into the bellows of passion; Challenging the flame that burns; entwined.... Whispered intrigue lays in the crescent of moon, In an eminent blaze of sweetest surrender Unborn whispers lie entwined with heated petals, silken; We shiver....I shiver, I am warm arms embraced; Your lips hard yet soft against my side, The feel of flesh warmed to a rising flame... The long moon steps into midnight; My ******* full of your hands as candles, pour hard against the ebon fall, Luscious to the hush of soft smiles Steeled eloquence flows in ribbon ripples; Winter sown, blood quilled, in midnights cast; Cloaked in beautiful, shadow's bed a bouquet of lacy foxglove... Eyes closed and deep of breath, Moistness seeps the sugared flower, and longing surges deep; Shudder me wicked, drench me quick; The wildness swirls inside as he moves like a shadow over my heart His tongue eager to swim the gushing urge; Touching, slick-slide, the soothe of smooth fingers slip past softness; Lips cross, moist to moan me quick, sliding to quivers. Thigh's whispering and heart pounding , Soft, the wind blows, tapping walls, fingers dancing And shadow sways to moonlight... Velvet-soft, the sweet of tongue's mesh, Fire burning, The tips of breast's aroused by the touch of a slow hand lover; Your tongue gently rolls, wet and burning hot, Hungrily, it feeds diving deep, and sandalwood spires upon the malachite air, And burning murmurs the silent song, pleasures Your flame to touch me hot, softly hard, Against the darting quivering rose, stokes sweet, the flame of conjure.... I weep as you strain to slay this huntress of indolent submission; Descending into darkness, I squirm upon your touch, lifting my altar upon your hunger, Eyes lost to ecstasy, the flow quickens from abyssal moans; Overflowing with need, release bound by gold shattered stars Suckling whispered thoughts; With us, for us, in us, in dreams, in thoughts, in love ....And in....time my love..................

0

Aug 8, 2012

Aug 8, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC

janette

Twin Flame Dance:

Born to the night in the cry of wolves, We are….inked lovers spilling secrets, under velvet skies, Shrouding the night in silver spools; The season of silver silence, hangs upon shades of silken soul, This midnight offering, a white entice; My hair shimmers brightly, a wet fleece of gold, of shadow and starlight, And shimmering hues, emerald and sapphire breathe kindred embers into the bellows of passion; Challenging the flame that burns; entwined.... Whispered intrigue lays in the crescent of moon, In an eminent blaze of sweetest surrender Unborn whispers lie entwined with heated petals, silken; We shiver....I shiver, I am warm arms embraced; Your lips hard yet soft against my side, The feel of flesh warmed to a rising flame... The long moon steps into midnight; My ******* full of your hands as candles, pour hard against the ebon fall, Luscious to the hush of soft smiles Steeled eloquence flows in ribbon ripples; Winter sown, blood quilled, in midnights cast; Cloaked in beautiful, shadow's bed a bouquet of lacy foxglove... Eyes closed and deep of breath, Moistness seeps the sugared flower, and longing surges deep; Shudder me wicked, drench me quick; The wildness swirls inside as he moves like a shadow over my heart His tongue eager to swim the gushing urge; Touching, slick-slide, the soothe of smooth fingers slip past softness; Lips cross, moist to moan me quick, sliding to quivers. Thigh's whispering and heart pounding , Soft, the wind blows, tapping walls, fingers dancing And shadow sways to moonlight... Velvet-soft, the sweet of tongue's mesh, Fire burning, The tips of breast's aroused by the touch of a slow hand lover; Your tongue gently rolls, wet and burning hot, Hungrily, it feeds diving deep, and sandalwood spires upon the malachite air, And burning murmurs the silent song, pleasures Your flame to touch me hot, softly hard, Against the darting quivering rose, stokes sweet, the flame of conjure.... I weep as you strain to slay this huntress of indolent submission; Descending into darkness, I squirm upon your touch, lifting my altar upon your hunger, Eyes lost to ecstasy, the flow quickens from abyssal moans; Overflowing with need, release bound by gold shattered stars Suckling whispered thoughts; With us, for us, in us, in dreams, in thoughts, in love ....And in....time my love..................

46

a gnat, oh my! what can I spy hiding inside this tiny fly? an atom, or three! sprawling effortlessly into eyes & wings that set it free to bug the hell outta me— a ton of flesh to its molecular mesh, but nonetheless, this gnat & me both orbit 'round anatomy.

0

Mar 8, 2011

Mar 8, 2011 at 8:48 AM UTC

travis-dixon

Anatomy

a gnat, oh my! what can I spy hiding inside this tiny fly? an atom, or three! sprawling effortlessly into eyes & wings that set it free to bug the hell outta me— a ton of flesh to its molecular mesh, but nonetheless, this gnat & me both orbit 'round anatomy.

15

421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled— But peers beyond her mesh— And wishes—and denies— Lest Interview—annul a want That Image—satisfies—

0

4.9k

Emily Dickinson

A Charm invests a face

421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled— But peers beyond her mesh— And wishes—and denies— Lest Interview—annul a want That Image—satisfies—

9

They're feverish with desire Eclipsed in love Raging like a black smoke fire ****** scents rising above The pheromones they release Must be smelled miles away They've missed this, the tease And liquid glances, it's been days Since, either have touched the other But they still feel that ****** tension On every inch of their skin When they're finally away from prying eyes Their lips mesh, his hands move to her thighs And hers slide up through his hair Gripping on tight They could be spotted, but neither cares He pushes her hard against the wall Bringing her legs around his hips She thanks heaven she wore a skirt And quiets a moan by devouring his lips He quickly, fervently unzips his jeans Releasing himself and promptly Entering her sweet, wet heat He groans as he swallows her scream Then pounds in hard, fast, ferociously She rocks her hips with a delicious little motion Squeezing her core tight, biting his lips Coming almost instantly when he growls with delight He thrusts harder, incessantly feeling her getting tight Moving her ankles to rest on his shoulders He delves his shaft as deep inside as he can reach She scratches scars along his back And they kiss so deep like it's the final feast She throbs in her core as another wave hits at full force Starts going weak as she comes once more Feeling her liquid pour, brings him to the edge He grips her ankles stretching the limits of her flexibility Then roars into her sweet mouth as he comes, vigorously He lets her legs go, but holds her upright They both sigh knowing it's the beginning of the night, And that was just a quickie

0

Dec 14, 2014

Dec 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC

JustMelz

Quickie **** Sunday)

They're feverish with desire Eclipsed in love Raging like a black smoke fire ****** scents rising above The pheromones they release Must be smelled miles away They've missed this, the tease And liquid glances, it's been days Since, either have touched the other But they still feel that ****** tension On every inch of their skin When they're finally away from prying eyes Their lips mesh, his hands move to her thighs And hers slide up through his hair Gripping on tight They could be spotted, but neither cares He pushes her hard against the wall Bringing her legs around his hips She thanks heaven she wore a skirt And quiets a moan by devouring his lips He quickly, fervently unzips his jeans Releasing himself and promptly Entering her sweet, wet heat He groans as he swallows her scream Then pounds in hard, fast, ferociously She rocks her hips with a delicious little motion Squeezing her core tight, biting his lips Coming almost instantly when he growls with delight He thrusts harder, incessantly feeling her getting tight Moving her ankles to rest on his shoulders He delves his shaft as deep inside as he can reach She scratches scars along his back And they kiss so deep like it's the final feast She throbs in her core as another wave hits at full force Starts going weak as she comes once more Feeling her liquid pour, brings him to the edge He grips her ankles stretching the limits of her flexibility Then roars into her sweet mouth as he comes, vigorously He lets her legs go, but holds her upright They both sigh knowing it's the beginning of the night, And that was just a quickie

41

a gift for Aladdin Aures H from his 3rd follower... <>><<> the inescapable need, unformed firmament inquiring; am I capable? the impulse palpable, the urge to urgent, to gorge and disgorge? instead of morning prayers, precomposed and ordered, morning poem plucked from morning fog, gusted breezes, early-on, newborn sun rays, progeny of disheveled skies words fused, in irregular sizes, senses censured by drowsy eyes, but the chest beating arrhythmia means bursts of free verses superimposed on reluctant eyelids, jigsaw puzzlement be re-conformed and the first poem of the day, emerges from the intersection of mind, pale dreams, and the first is special till the neu morrow, when fresh bursts explode inward to windward, and the first is just yesterday's mesh of hash, once formidable, now last, pinned, yellowing, purely a **descendant of the recent, but always, ancient past*^

0

Jun 19, 2025

Jun 19, 2025 at 3:13 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

The Poem Writes Me

a gift for Aladdin Aures H from his 3rd follower... <>><<> the inescapable need, unformed firmament inquiring; am I capable? the impulse palpable, the urge to urgent, to gorge and disgorge? instead of morning prayers, precomposed and ordered, morning poem plucked from morning fog, gusted breezes, early-on, newborn sun rays, progeny of disheveled skies words fused, in irregular sizes, senses censured by drowsy eyes, but the chest beating arrhythmia means bursts of free verses superimposed on reluctant eyelids, jigsaw puzzlement be re-conformed and the first poem of the day, emerges from the intersection of mind, pale dreams, and the first is special till the neu morrow, when fresh bursts explode inward to windward, and the first is just yesterday's mesh of hash, once formidable, now last, pinned, yellowing, purely a **descendant of the recent, but always, ancient past*^

32

The shadows have their seasons, too. The feathery web the budding maples cast down upon the sullen lawn bears but a faint relation to high summer's umbrageous weight and tunnellike continuum- black leached from green, deep pools wherein a globe of gnats revolves as airy as an astrolabe. The thinning shade of autumn is an inherited Oriental, red worn to pink, nap worn to thread. Shadows on snow look blue. The skier, exultant at the summit, sees his poles elongate toward the valley: thus each blade of grass projects another opposite the sun, and in marshes the mesh is infinite, as the winged eclipse an eagle in flight drags across the desert floor is infinitesimal. And shadows on water!- the beech bough bent to the speckled lake where silt motes flicker gold, or the steel dock underslung with a submarine that trembles, its ladder stiffened by air. And loveliest, because least looked-for, gray on gray, the stripes the pearl-white winter sun hung low beneath the leafless wood draws out from trunk to trunk across the road like a stairway that does not rise.

0

4.7k

John Updike

Penumbrae

The shadows have their seasons, too. The feathery web the budding maples cast down upon the sullen lawn bears but a faint relation to high summer's umbrageous weight and tunnellike continuum- black leached from green, deep pools wherein a globe of gnats revolves as airy as an astrolabe. The thinning shade of autumn is an inherited Oriental, red worn to pink, nap worn to thread. Shadows on snow look blue. The skier, exultant at the summit, sees his poles elongate toward the valley: thus each blade of grass projects another opposite the sun, and in marshes the mesh is infinite, as the winged eclipse an eagle in flight drags across the desert floor is infinitesimal. And shadows on water!- the beech bough bent to the speckled lake where silt motes flicker gold, or the steel dock underslung with a submarine that trembles, its ladder stiffened by air. And loveliest, because least looked-for, gray on gray, the stripes the pearl-white winter sun hung low beneath the leafless wood draws out from trunk to trunk across the road like a stairway that does not rise.

33

Spark Me Match my flame Be warned after we burn up I will remain Scars tell stories unique the stain Suffer in pleasure transforming pain Create a new definition of touch All fantasies we can discuss Tickle imagination till you gush Bell goes ding..Square off in ring Emotional swing soar without wings Sparked there's no limit to what I bring Heart exploding in my chest Intellect feel it stretch Transcend beyond flesh Endless battle to the next Please Spark me! Beware of Ego's fire Lips..Toungue Turn it up higher Sparked We become all desired..

0

Dec 16, 2015

Dec 16, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC

PoetryByMAN

Spark Me

Spark Me Match my flame Be warned after we burn up I will remain Scars tell stories unique the stain Suffer in pleasure transforming pain Create a new definition of touch All fantasies we can discuss Tickle imagination till you gush Bell goes ding..Square off in ring Emotional swing soar without wings Sparked there's no limit to what I bring Heart exploding in my chest Intellect feel it stretch Transcend beyond flesh Endless battle to the next Please Spark me! Beware of Ego's fire Lips..Toungue Turn it up higher Sparked We become all desired..

21

Annoyed, disappointed More than the most. I count days to lose your face Across the west coast. Letting the see breeze Blow you away, Abandon me stranded, It's better this way. Am I dumb? Do we not mesh? What happened before? Maybe it's God Just settling the score. Because I don't have the strength To do that anymore.

0

Jan 27, 2013

Jan 27, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC

hiraeth-1

Chemistry? Yeah, Chemistry.

Annoyed, disappointed More than the most. I count days to lose your face Across the west coast. Letting the see breeze Blow you away, Abandon me stranded, It's better this way. Am I dumb? Do we not mesh? What happened before? Maybe it's God Just settling the score. Because I don't have the strength To do that anymore.

15

you Tug, and Tug these Servile Strings, you've Sewn inTo my Flesh i've Sewn a Few on You as Well, a Tangled Gory Mesh Ev'ry Tug i Take will Rip your Skin from Off your Bone, but You've got Quite a Sim'lar Grip, tug Rip, cry Laugh, and Moan Two Puppets, Each Other's Masters Together, Beget Disasters

0

Jun 23, 2014

Jun 23, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC

gigi-tiji

Codependent Sadomasochistic Puppet Show

you Tug, and Tug these Servile Strings, you've Sewn inTo my Flesh i've Sewn a Few on You as Well, a Tangled Gory Mesh Ev'ry Tug i Take will Rip your Skin from Off your Bone, but You've got Quite a Sim'lar Grip, tug Rip, cry Laugh, and Moan Two Puppets, Each Other's Masters Together, Beget Disasters

12

White as winter skin, expressionless faces z i p on by, looking straight ahead Timepieces remembered, drudgery over leisure time All in cadence, same beat, same drummer Putting on Mona Lisa smiles and handing out business cards Numbers dominate words, words mesh with numbers Fast food, fast digestive systems join Popeye's Whimpey ranks Plop Plop, fizz fizz Companies, corporations, amalgamations merge then COLLIDE!!!

0

Sep 19, 2014

Sep 19, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC

rw-dennen

BUSINESS HOURS

White as winter skin, expressionless faces z i p on by, looking straight ahead Timepieces remembered, drudgery over leisure time All in cadence, same beat, same drummer Putting on Mona Lisa smiles and handing out business cards Numbers dominate words, words mesh with numbers Fast food, fast digestive systems join Popeye's Whimpey ranks Plop Plop, fizz fizz Companies, corporations, amalgamations merge then COLLIDE!!!

15