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"moist" poems
Thy fingers make early flowers of all things. thy hair mostly the hours love: a smoothness which sings,saying (though love be a day) do not fear,we will go amaying. thy whitest feet crisply are straying. Always thy moist eyes are at kisses playing, whose strangeness much says;singing (though love be a day) for which girl art thou flowers bringing? To be thy lips is a sweet thing and small. Death,thee i call rich beyond wishing if this thou catch, else missing. (though love be a day and life be nothing,it shall not stop kissing).
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51.2k
Thy Fingers Make Early Flowers
Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
Roller Derby
Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.
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59
Think of nothing but this night. The blooded stars, blue leaves and red trees... Think of nothing... Nothing but tonightt. Close your eyes, Relax your mind... Unfold my lies And everything'll be fine My **** begins to rise As my moist lips drag along your neck My hand slides up your sides... Contemplating left, right or back down to your thighs Bite me Force on the aggression Grab me **** just simple persuasion. The night just confides As I pull your legs apart. Squeezing your sides Lifting you up on my hard **** Biting your neck As you moan aloud Squeezing your ******* As you gasp, with each insertion Aggression but pure passion, I throw you down. And force my **** in your tight, warm ***** Hearing you scream aloud, I **** you deeply. Open your grey eyes... Realize it's just a poem. Unfold my demise And know this night will come.
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
To you. From me. (Explicit)
Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking, slow play of lights, solitary bell, twilight falling in your eyes, toy doll, earth-shell, in whom the earth sings! In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them as you desire, and you send it where you will. Aim my road on your bow of hope and in a frenzy I will flee my flock of arrows. On all sides I see your waist of fog, and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours; my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests in your arms of transparent stone. Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens in the resonant and dying evening! Thus in the deep hours I have seen, over the fields, the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind
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Ah Vastness of Pines
A blue black cloud, all over me is written JOY in the script of vapor, dense, moist and meaningful, I am light, like a feather, the breeze is in love with me for that, I love his gentle persuasion to waft, move about, explore.. and then--ravaged by wind my love changes direction. I love freedom more than anything, but forgot limits, hover now, I am no more attached to the green hills, they are jealous, far above them am I, untouched by their vainglorious pride, I am not hard-hearted, parched fields send shivers of lightning break me in to thousand  smaller pieces, scatter around. My love for this earth is kindled by the sights unfurling below all the egrets, cormorants, storks and herons of great magnificence, those kind hearted friends that fly with me often are in pain like the farmers, there isn't enough water for anything. A cloud is a thought, inspired by the love for mother earth by the ocean I am gifted to the breeze, to tour around, on many lands fell my shade, found life in all varieties, now is the time to be kind at heart, melt, fall in torrents.
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Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
The cloud consciousness
Adult ABC A is for ******* B is for ***** C is for **** hole D is for **** E is for everything that you are and F is for **** off G is for Gory holes H is for hemerroid I is for invulents J is for ******* K fly a kite L is a loser M is for moist N is for nuts O is obscured in your P ***** Q is for ***** R is for the Reassurance that you need S is for **** T is for **** U is for Underwear and V is for ****** W is for wort and X is for *** Y now You know your life is full of Z zest
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Aug 29, 2021
Aug 29, 2021 at 10:35 PM UTC
Now you know your ABC'S
The porch is all wet Heaven's wrath bellows, falls wet Pours like mad...i'm wet! Rain, pain...keep eyes wet Pen is fueled, drenched...too wet Ink blots....paper's wet Moist wind makes head wet Wounded heart speaks... mind's soaked wet My muse, dripping wet... Sally Copyright May 18, 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
WET
*Brittle dry earth beaming with longing, For wet kisses from heavy heavens' door, In soothing rain, finds the heart’s belonging, Releasing the sweetest aroma...petrichor.* ***The mist of warm moist wafting playfully, Kissing and engulfing in a subtle unworldly spin... A feeling ensnared by the clutches of fond remembrance. Like the cadence of your breaths upon my parched skin...*** *A taste of your last dance on my fervent lips, Awoken with each drop, still makes me thirst, I lift my head, entranced by memory’s grips, Craving you, again to make my heart burst.* ***Here again...two drenched hearts encased in glass, Latent spectres melded together as they did before, Promises wrapped and bound to the gaits of the other, In eternal dance, laced with everlasting redolent petrichor...*** Dajena M rhymesmith
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Petrichor (Collaboration with Dajena M...again!)
.     It's here again...    Heavy downpour...    I inhaled the rain,     cloying with petrichor.       Standing at my window,      looking out...     Street lamps struggled aglow.    People with brollies walking about.    My eyes reached out to the heavens,     tracing these glassy beads       as they'd free fall...         Falling by the sheets,        the pattering hastens,       periodically punctuated      by the thunder's call.      Mind is drifting and floating,        intently listening to a           million love wishes...              Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...            In light entrapped splashes.          Raindrops descend and come,          into my still life tonight...           Won't you will me numb,              with your chilly bite...              Wide-eyed enamour...             Catching a stray droplet or two.              Riding the tail of a zephyr,               finding a place where                 no trouble could ensue.             An errant gust blew            to meet with me.           The refreshing moist          meets my parted lips...         Inhaling deep in this reverie...        Into a sea of tranquillity,         my mind slowly dips...       Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...       I would savour each and every one.       If the moist wind came and caresses      I would meet it in a tight embrace    till the break of sun.   What a sight...    Almost surreal it seems...       As the light from the surrounding          lamps dances playfully...         Dispersing and exploding into a      barrage of shattered beams.     Before it gets subdued in the drops    caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...    The drops would trickle      and fall before merging,       forming stranded puddles        unable to flow...         Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...       An image...      Borne out of a fantastic show.     An image of beating hearts,      overlapping one another...        Speaking of consequential love           and feelings so true         Intertwined...      in the promise of forever...   Slowly retrieving itself into an...   image of you...
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Image
.     It's here again...    Heavy downpour...    I inhaled the rain,     cloying with petrichor.       Standing at my window,      looking out...     Street lamps struggled aglow.    People with brollies walking about.    My eyes reached out to the heavens,     tracing these glassy beads       as they'd free fall...         Falling by the sheets,        the pattering hastens,       periodically punctuated      by the thunder's call.      Mind is drifting and floating,        intently listening to a           million love wishes...              Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...            In light entrapped splashes.          Raindrops descend and come,          into my still life tonight...           Won't you will me numb,              with your chilly bite...              Wide-eyed enamour...             Catching a stray droplet or two.              Riding the tail of a zephyr,               finding a place where                 no trouble could ensue.             An errant gust blew            to meet with me.           The refreshing moist          meets my parted lips...         Inhaling deep in this reverie...        Into a sea of tranquillity,         my mind slowly dips...       Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...       I would savour each and every one.       If the moist wind came and caresses      I would meet it in a tight embrace    till the break of sun.   What a sight...    Almost surreal it seems...       As the light from the surrounding          lamps dances playfully...         Dispersing and exploding into a      barrage of shattered beams.     Before it gets subdued in the drops    caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...    The drops would trickle      and fall before merging,       forming stranded puddles        unable to flow...         Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...       An image...      Borne out of a fantastic show.     An image of beating hearts,      overlapping one another...        Speaking of consequential love           and feelings so true         Intertwined...      in the promise of forever...   Slowly retrieving itself into an...   image of you...
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65
Let me take you Use your body tonight As I will ****** And hold you tight Hands exploring each other Finding your wet desire Tonight, be my lover Setting your soul on fire Bite marks across your skin Bite marks across your thighs Surrender to this lust and sin I want to hear your sighs Feel me now as I enter Having you in every way Ravaging your moist centre Inside you in savage play You flow like a waterfall As I ****** so very deep Exploding, giving you my all Holding you now, as we sleep
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Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 7:02 AM UTC
The Lover
he once said to me...                  *“I would blow warm                          moist breath through                                           your toes...                            I would do all the                   wonderful things                 to your big toes                   that you do to me.                       And most certainly                          all the tension would                                drain onto me...                                I would draw                                 every last drop                                from your toes                           with little messages                          along the way of my                       charted course                          to come up                       your inner channels.         Resting in the sensitive eddies         behind your knees   we both breathe fire     wafting up and down                          your thighs.”* .... like drips of seduction off his tongue. And he lingered on, saying...                    *“Flaming lips wafting              together with desire,        reaching and pulling           with firey licks.        As I slide    my wet tongue     on up and hover,            breathing                      you in                            deeply...                            through my nostrils                          filling my *** senses.                        Drunk on your fumes,                 I'm consumed.            Circling the tip        of my nose    around your hard,    pearly knot        feeling the heat              from your butterfly wings             my parted lips surounding           and easing the warmth      of my soul onto you with wet hot breath.    And I ease the length           of my tongue to rest       completely over     your fire breathing wings ,                warm capable and ready..                    leaving you in suspense.                       Sliding ever so slightly                            and slowly up your                                     slick silky lips,                      tightening the tip                    of my tongue -                       flick flick                              flick flick...              And I look deeply            into your eyes,                   into depths                     you've never known.                        And then I'll take you                         all in, with a suction                            you'll never escape                              or ever want to.       Never breaking eye contact my tongue slides from bottom         and presses, emphasis          at the top slowly         over and over             settling you in.                 We fall into                    a oneness                         and find                           our groove.”* And I said... ** *“I wish I wasn't still irritated with you so I could fully enjoy your seduction.”* **
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Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
he Once Said
he once said to me...                  *“I would blow warm                          moist breath through                                           your toes...                            I would do all the                   wonderful things                 to your big toes                   that you do to me.                       And most certainly                          all the tension would                                drain onto me...                                I would draw                                 every last drop                                from your toes                           with little messages                          along the way of my                       charted course                          to come up                       your inner channels.         Resting in the sensitive eddies         behind your knees   we both breathe fire     wafting up and down                          your thighs.”* .... like drips of seduction off his tongue. And he lingered on, saying...                    *“Flaming lips wafting              together with desire,        reaching and pulling           with firey licks.        As I slide    my wet tongue     on up and hover,            breathing                      you in                            deeply...                            through my nostrils                          filling my *** senses.                        Drunk on your fumes,                 I'm consumed.            Circling the tip        of my nose    around your hard,    pearly knot        feeling the heat              from your butterfly wings             my parted lips surounding           and easing the warmth      of my soul onto you with wet hot breath.    And I ease the length           of my tongue to rest       completely over     your fire breathing wings ,                warm capable and ready..                    leaving you in suspense.                       Sliding ever so slightly                            and slowly up your                                     slick silky lips,                      tightening the tip                    of my tongue -                       flick flick                              flick flick...              And I look deeply            into your eyes,                   into depths                     you've never known.                        And then I'll take you                         all in, with a suction                            you'll never escape                              or ever want to.       Never breaking eye contact my tongue slides from bottom         and presses, emphasis          at the top slowly         over and over             settling you in.                 We fall into                    a oneness                         and find                           our groove.”* And I said... ** *“I wish I wasn't still irritated with you so I could fully enjoy your seduction.”* **
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89
The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted like the dwarves at dawn. It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one! Cold flower heads are raining over my heart. Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked. In you the wars and the flights accumulated. From you the wings of the song birds rose. You swallowed everything, like distance. Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank! It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss. The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse. Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver, turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank! In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded. Lost discoverer, in you everything sank! You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire, sadness stunned you, in you everything sank! I made the wall of shadow draw back, beyond desire and act, I walked on. Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost, I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you. Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness. and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar. There was the black solitude of the islands, and there, woman of love, your arms took me in. There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle. Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms! How terrible and brief my desire was to you! How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid. Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs, still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds. Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs, oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies. Oh the mad coupling of hope and force in which we merged and despaired. And the tenderness, light as water and as flour. And the word scarcely begun on the lips. This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing, and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank! Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you, what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned! From billow to billow you still called and sang. Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel. You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents. Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well. Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank! It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all the timetables. The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore. Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate. Deserted like the wharves at dawn. Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands. Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything. It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one!
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14.2k
A Song Of Despair
The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted like the dwarves at dawn. It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one! Cold flower heads are raining over my heart. Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked. In you the wars and the flights accumulated. From you the wings of the song birds rose. You swallowed everything, like distance. Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank! It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss. The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse. Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver, turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank! In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded. Lost discoverer, in you everything sank! You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire, sadness stunned you, in you everything sank! I made the wall of shadow draw back, beyond desire and act, I walked on. Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost, I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you. Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness. and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar. There was the black solitude of the islands, and there, woman of love, your arms took me in. There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle. Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms! How terrible and brief my desire was to you! How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid. Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs, still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds. Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs, oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies. Oh the mad coupling of hope and force in which we merged and despaired. And the tenderness, light as water and as flour. And the word scarcely begun on the lips. This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing, and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank! Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you, what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned! From billow to billow you still called and sang. Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel. You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents. Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well. Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank! It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all the timetables. The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore. Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate. Deserted like the wharves at dawn. Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands. Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything. It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one!
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***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Rules of Engagement
***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***
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69
After dark, energies flow in manners that pleases them most braided together in lust, two king cobras were seen spiraling up when darkness like a camouflage sets in thickly around,you're the  marijuana of my mind, seeking far horizons of pleasure. I willingly seek oblivion, when pink pointed goosebumps like tarantula's love bites, results of mating time cruelty infest all over my body's landscape, signatures of ecstasy. I feel your lips become, moist, soft, honey from each drips never enough,for me, is it possible to get inebriated more? Your sighs and moans speak the vocabulary of a forgotten ancient language love hurriedly resurrected for us from past, brevity is the crux of that lingo of erupting jets of desire, it teaches you to moan in fifty different tones in all;even more? Your sharpened nails etch cave murals on my itching back that has the searing taste of blood, in hot hot chilly red. my taste buds of lust, begs for more and more of it. You are the marijuana fueling my narcotic flights that land in your misty land, enveloping my senses as a whole. "The night is still young, hear what the darkness whispers" I hear you speak like an oracle, on things about to happen.
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
A tryst with ***** narcotic moments
You must begin early while it is cool and your head clear discernment, a sharpened tine probing the rocky darkness for all things latent and destructive. Be aware that the velvet sage of the leaves belies their power to take over every space, remember roots burrow deep, anchoring in fissures we don’t even know exist. You must delve as close to the origin as possible or the **** you think eradicated will bide its time, germinating in the still secret ground waiting for light to penetrate the moist earth waking the sprout who voraciously pushes up and out a curled blemish in your otherwise carefully tended garden.
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
Weeding
Dry deserts in parts & dripping water holes As well the body sure is a varied ecosystem Having its own hairy forests having blooms A body is like that as it's both moist and dry Dusky at places where light seldom reaches
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Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
The Body Is An Ecosystem In Itself
in making Marjorie god hurried a boy’s body on unsuspicious legs of girl. his left hand quarried the quartzlike face. his right slapped the amusing big vital vicious vegetable of her mouth. Upon the whole he suddenly clapped a tiny sunset of vermouth -colour. Hair. he put between her lips a moist mistake, whose fragrance hurls me into tears,as the dusty new- ness of her obsolete gaze begins to. lean…. a little against me, hen for two dollars i fill her hips with boys and girls.
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10.5k
In Making Marjorie God Hurried
Yet another day of pain was put behind, She lets out a sigh of relief as if the beast That stalks her is duped for now, once more. The last Metro train that night, slows down,stops. To return to her regular prison she gets in hurriedly. Emptiness bares it's fangs, that looked sweet in fact, In comparison with the experiences of the day gone. A suspicious bundle on the floor stirred at her touch, A frail women almost frozen,living dead, eyes sunken in sockets." How did you end up here?" she quarries. "I fainted, didn't eat anything, for the past few days" "Mother, you need to drink something hot quick. Come with me I'll take care" her eyes get moist. Then she smiles thinking how fortunate she is. "My share of sweet misery is here to teach me practice humility, even in an empty compartment"
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Her Continuing Lessons in Humility
Waiting for me after a long shower and shampoo I dry my bronze silky skin and come to you, Your smiling sweetly sitting on the edge of Marble countertop, waiting while your loving gaze at me never drops. I reach out my moist hands, we brush, You shake nervously and seem to turn to mush. Your wondering really how innocent are my fluid motions, I'm smirking, while grasping a scented lotion. You sit there amused blushing from Pink to rainbow, Each angle gives you a new mellow, a glow, wow! I'm missing something , something I pretend to forget, You look impatient now with sighs of regret. You sulk as I glimpse with a lean of my head, through the frame of my door from my now made up bed, I pull up my slacks, your sunny smile fades to dreary, I put on my shirt, your turning the evil fairy. I know you feel there's someone else, Some disappearing genie or magical elf, because you sense but never see, Me happy in other pleasant company. You want to be all over me that much is clear. I want to take you too in my arms dear, But today will have to be just that touch, Your lingering smell on me makes others lust. But silently you understand, Your sealed mouth is as dry as sand, I blow a kiss as I pick up my key, I know in the dark you'll wait for me................ Because your MY perfume
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
Perfume
I wanted to know the sighs Of mercy.  On the bed she lied, Laid bare in the shocking light That twitches, as she rolls I hover and cage her in question, With moist eyes, abandoned By loves interrogations, I stab at the untruths and confusions. I wanted to hear the supplicant Murmur of indolence and shame. With windy caresses I break Her arms, she ropes me red In tangled hair and I struggle To let go.  I wanted to taste  The twin defeats of victory And indifference, when in the light Of darkest night there are cries of yes And no and false accusations, There is consuming pain and excruciating Pleasure and as we squirm And seethe, she teases, Goading me and then, I loose it.
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
Loves Prisoner
Standing at my window with an aching in my chest Looking out the window as the rain poured down Pondering hard if I could withstand this test Fixed in a lost gaze; in tearful helplessness I drown. The raindrops burst as they fall and hit the ground Into a million droplets merging back into a puddle Like muffled drumming, chaotic yet calming is the sound Spellbound by it's sight, so beautiful...so subtle. My eyes grow weary but still I wish to witness These glassy beads falling enchantingly from the sky Hoping it'll wash away the miss and all of it's madness Felt the moist in the wind as it kissed my cheeks dry. This magic before me, I can stare upon all night For I love it so, it brings the solace I so have craved Much like my love, I'd gaze upon her till the break of light Wishing I could tell her of the love I've saved...
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Pluviophile
In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins. The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream, and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the street corner the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the stars. Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. In the graveyard far off there is a corpse who has moaned for three years because of a dry countryside on his knee; and that boy they buried this morning cried so much it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet. Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful! We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead dahlias. But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams to not exist; flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths in a thicket of new veins, and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulers. On day the horses will live in the saloons and the enraged ants will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of cows. Another day we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue. Careful! Be careful! Be careful! The men who still have marks of the claw and the thunderstorm, and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention of the bridge, or that dead man who possess now only his head and a shoe, we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes are waiting, where the bear's teeth are waiting, where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting, and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder. Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is sleeping. If someone does close his eyes, a whip, boys, a whip! Let there be a landscape of open eyes and bitter wounds on fire. No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one. I have said it before. No one is sleeping. But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the night, open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theatres.
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9.3k
City That Does Not Sleep
In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins. The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream, and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the street corner the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the stars. Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. In the graveyard far off there is a corpse who has moaned for three years because of a dry countryside on his knee; and that boy they buried this morning cried so much it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet. Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful! We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead dahlias. But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams to not exist; flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths in a thicket of new veins, and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulers. On day the horses will live in the saloons and the enraged ants will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of cows. Another day we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue. Careful! Be careful! Be careful! The men who still have marks of the claw and the thunderstorm, and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention of the bridge, or that dead man who possess now only his head and a shoe, we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes are waiting, where the bear's teeth are waiting, where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting, and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder. Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is sleeping. If someone does close his eyes, a whip, boys, a whip! Let there be a landscape of open eyes and bitter wounds on fire. No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one. I have said it before. No one is sleeping. But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the night, open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theatres.
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49
Through the country paths, I lazily loitered, watching Nature in its changing hue straying farther into the interiors, sundry and sublime vistas came into view. in response to zephyr’s warm embrace, the silvery leaves joyously fluttered. the bees busied themselves collecting pollen and birds on tree tops merrily chattered it was the *** end of verdant spring. summer’s sun stood behind my head. bleat of sheep was heard from far. ‘Good day to you’….. Someone said. There stood on the hill, a boy around fifteen obviously he was of tribal breed. with a beaming smile, he greeted me but on walking to him, he ran like a steed I saw him disappear behind the trees and enter into a hut tiny as a nest he lived in the lap of Mother Nature, far from the city and its sooty dust being coaxed, he hesitantly came out. my tone of assurance and pleasing smile, seemed to have won his confidence as to a friend, he shared his eventful tale. pointing to the sheep grazing in the slope, he said, he earned a living caring the flock. he stayed in the woods all day long, feeding and tending his master’s sheep. from dawn to dusk, through woods and meads, he leads his sheep, calling them by their name. un vexed, with simple pleasures he is content and with a nomad’s life, he seems to be tame he said, at home he has his invalid mother. bringing her back to health is his mission in life on referring to his mother, I watched his eyes glitter nothing other than her illness posed to him a strife from every utterance, I could sense his filial love. even in abundance, while shadows line many faces, on his visage, hope lingered as a dancing flame to me he seemed above many, rich in other graces! While parting, I handed him a little money pausing unbelievably, with moist eyes he accepted it, when a breeze passed caressing us as if over a kind gesture, Nature seemed to rejoice!
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
A Rare Beauty Beheld
Through the country paths, I lazily loitered, watching Nature in its changing hue straying farther into the interiors, sundry and sublime vistas came into view. in response to zephyr’s warm embrace, the silvery leaves joyously fluttered. the bees busied themselves collecting pollen and birds on tree tops merrily chattered it was the *** end of verdant spring. summer’s sun stood behind my head. bleat of sheep was heard from far. ‘Good day to you’….. Someone said. There stood on the hill, a boy around fifteen obviously he was of tribal breed. with a beaming smile, he greeted me but on walking to him, he ran like a steed I saw him disappear behind the trees and enter into a hut tiny as a nest he lived in the lap of Mother Nature, far from the city and its sooty dust being coaxed, he hesitantly came out. my tone of assurance and pleasing smile, seemed to have won his confidence as to a friend, he shared his eventful tale. pointing to the sheep grazing in the slope, he said, he earned a living caring the flock. he stayed in the woods all day long, feeding and tending his master’s sheep. from dawn to dusk, through woods and meads, he leads his sheep, calling them by their name. un vexed, with simple pleasures he is content and with a nomad’s life, he seems to be tame he said, at home he has his invalid mother. bringing her back to health is his mission in life on referring to his mother, I watched his eyes glitter nothing other than her illness posed to him a strife from every utterance, I could sense his filial love. even in abundance, while shadows line many faces, on his visage, hope lingered as a dancing flame to me he seemed above many, rich in other graces! While parting, I handed him a little money pausing unbelievably, with moist eyes he accepted it, when a breeze passed caressing us as if over a kind gesture, Nature seemed to rejoice!
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44