"muscles" poems
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
585.7k
i will be
M o ving in the Street of her
bodyfee 1 inga ro undMe the traffic of
lovely;muscles-sinke x p i r i n g S
uddeni
Y totouch
the curvedship of
Her-
….kiss her:hands
will play on,mE as
dea d tunes OR s-crap p-y lea Ves flut te rin g
from Hideous trees or
Maybe Mandolins
1 oo k-
pigeons fly ingand
whee(:are,SpRiN,k,LiNg an in-stant with sunLight
then)!-
ing all go BlacK wh-eel-ing
oh
ver
mYveRylitTle
street
where
you will come,
at twi li ght
s(oon & there’s
a m oo
)n.
80.3k
I want to sneak up behind you and grab you
I want to slowly unbutton you blouse as I kiss the back of your neck
I want to undo your bra, exposing your perfect *******
I want to kiss your neck and **** on your ear as I slide one finger up and down your ***** slit and oinch your rock hard *******
I want to rub your **** making your body vibrate
I want to **** tease your ****** with my tongue before ******* your amazing **** as I slide my finger slowly inside you
I want to lay you down and feed you my throbbing **** as i continue to slide my finger deeper and faster, rubbing your **** until you explode
I want to rub your juices all over your ******* and areola and ******* as I continue to slide my **** down your throat until I explode down your throat
I want to slide between your legs and seperate your ***** lips with my fingers before I slide my tongue slowly inside you
I want to continue to lick your sweet ***** making your body quiver and your back arch as I alternate between licking, lapping and *******
I want to slide one finger inside your tight ***** feeling your muscles tighten around my finger and one finger in your tight *** as I focus all my attention on your **** with my masterful tongue, lapping soft and slow, then hard and fast until I feel you ready to explode
I want to **** your **** just as you begin to ****** and your bury my head into your sweetness, nearly drowning me in your juices
I want to stand over you and slide my throbbing **** up and down your ***** slapping your **** with my swollen head
I want to look you deep in your eyes as I slowly enter you, becoming one with you, rubbing your **** as I continue to pump myself deep inside you, watching your amazing **** bounce with each ******
I want to kiss you passionately as **** you hard and slow until you *** all over my pulsating ****
I want to stand up, taking you by your hair and put you on your knees so you can taste your ***** juices off of me
I want to bend you over and slide my hard **** deep inside you from behind as I spread your *** cheeks and lightly spank your beautiful ***
I want to tease your *** with my thumb as I **** you slowly from behind
I want to work my thumb into your *** as I begin to **** you deeper and harder until I grab your hips and pound your doggie style until I feel you ready to *** again
I want to explode with you, filling your ***** with my load as you continue to cream all over my ****
I want to collapse onto the bed with you, wrapped in each others arm, completely naked and satisified, until.... 26
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
there’s a barnacle scar
deeply ingrained
on the basalt stack
at mark thirty two
whispering summer winds
scented oil
cotton and roe
drift
as waves brush
and shape
the sandstone shore
the briny air
and lost erratic
set a tone to this
pollyanna portrait
it's andrews undulations
and gifted benches
its concessions
and traces of the barry burn
its sculpted driftwood
and sanko lines
make this picture
almost perfect
children play
as venom spews
from the caterwaul pair
those odd looking mates
casting smiles
with arrested despair
settling shots
swiping bugs
dipping and darting
as photo men
and muscles
and long neck seabirds
make their turn
the hunched hoody
and his sorted sidekick
get their fill
(of moss and rubble ~ chubby and kelp)
nice to meet your acquaintance
the pho man would say
an odd drop
and ironic turn
from those horrific corners
of timeless desperation
down by cannon bridge
harbor seals
and carriage horse
are fronted by
raven shade
jolly tides pause
in quiet bays
(with curious looters
and *** pickers)
sand merchants
and field totems
all streamed by the light
cirrus strands
blanket the
outer edge
hovering craft
and shimmering willows
bolt the evening frame
blood orange
and tethered
with a filtered glare
bottle-nose dolphins
and seabirds
(and shifting tides)
are all settling in
for the long night stay
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
0 followers?
Dear New Poet:
Then I'm your man,
your very own
Northern star,
one leg up of a
3 legged stool,
upon which all,
we, enthroned poets,
the world-over,
do rule
the honor you
bequeath me
to be,
a first follower,
your very own
first responder,
it, cannot be
disdained
nor
diminished
this instance,
this birth,
a novice revival,
heart transplant,
makes it
the sweetest blessing
to be the first—
let us be
the quencher
of a desert thirst so long
in the parching,
the throat burning,
by a desert sojourning,
of a now ending
forty times
four hundred years
so come to me!
message me a message,
find me a find,
your poem fine,
so now we vow,
our embrace will
ne’er be broken
give me this
honorific!
let us together
be terrific,
raise our glasses,
with arms entwined
toasting you and
all that mind and
breasted chest of yours,
full bursting from
its future~contains,
of which,
its full release,
brings a fuller life
for us both
I am a father.
I am a grandfather.
I am a First Follower.
and a First Responder,
for all who needs a leg up,
so step upon my heart,
it be but a first step upon a
ladder with no top, no end ensighted
my legs are as old as time, but,
measure me not by the rings and
the metered scales of gray hair aging,
shock of white, a cain mark, wizard-wizened
but
by the muscles
of my deep affection,
the solemnity of this,
my irrevocable promise
this,
the blessing
we both make and earn,
when you write,
and while we wait,
in quiet attendance -
for all of your good works,
your kept promises
Blessed
are You Lord our God,
Ruler of the Universe
who has given us life,
sustained us until now,
***allowing, allying, and
alloying***
the treader of treacherous waters,
reader, writer, swimmer,
to reach, meet, embrace
and greet this day,
this new born poem,
with hallelujahs
whispering and shoutings
together,
as one
in one, of one,
one
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Challenges and competition notified.
Every step codified.
Tears and sweat pacified.
Achievements and advancement glorified.
Regression and depression terrified.
Muscles and struggle verified.
Foes and conspirators mortified.
Plans of progress and purpose sanctified.
Grace and the Goodness of God testified.
Sweet pleasures of life.
Trials, Torment and Torture.
Eulogies and Elegies of visible characters.
Promising and decisive.
No conflicts, No dilemma.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
I was thinking of a son.
The womb is not a clock
nor a bell tolling,
but in the eleventh month of its life
I feel the November
of the body as well as of the calendar.
In two days it will be my birthday
and as always the earth is done with its harvest.
This time I hunt for death,
the night I lean toward,
the night I want.
Well then--
It was in the womb all along.
I was thinking of a son ...
You! The never acquired,
the never seeded or unfastened,
you of the genitals I feared,
the stalk and the puppy's breath.
Will I give you my eyes or his?
Will you be the David or the Susan?
(Those two names I picked and listened for.)
Can you be the man your fathers are--
the leg muscles from Michelangelo,
hands from Yugoslavia
somewhere the peasant, Slavic and determined,
somewhere the survivor bulging with life--
and could it still be possible,
all this with Susan's eyes?
All this without you--
two days gone in blood.
I myself will die without baptism,
a third daughter they didn't bother.
My death will come on my name day.
What's wrong with the name day?
It's only an angel of the sun.
Woman,
weaving a web over your own,
a thin and tangled poison.
Scorpio,
bad spider--
die!
My death from the wrists,
two name tags,
blood worn like a corsage
to bloom
one on the left and one on the right--
It's a warm room,
the place of the blood.
Leave the door open on its hinges!
Two days for your death
and two days until mine.
Love! That red disease--
year after year, David, you would make me wild!
David! Susan! David! David!
full and disheveled, hissing into the night,
never growing old,
waiting always for you on the porch ...
year after year,
my carrot, my cabbage,
I would have possessed you before all women,
calling your name,
calling you mine.
27.1k
Come see me
9 PM this Friday
In a park near you!
Come watch me eat ḋ̸̻̺̗͙̤͕̦͂̄̓̽̊̋͗i̴̡̛̙̯̗̠͇͉̼̲̻̅̊̃̍̆͞r̸͚̼̣͔̜̟̬̰͂̽̆̿̏͋̓̕͟͡͞t̄̍̈̃̆͗̕͘ by the mouthful at the swing set.
Come see me scream till your ears b̨̩̫͕̘̊͊̉̾͛̍́̀͞l̤̺̫̰̘͎͉̓̅̌͐̀͜͢ͅe̡̙͚̟̯͙͕̖̾͌̽͐̀͊̓̌̒͜ḝ̰̙̱̯̻̘̬̥̈́͗̌̀͞͞d̨̡̟̪̟̗̼͍͓̓́̈̍̊̇̿͋̅͢͞ as I slide down the biggest slides.
Enjoy my one man play reenacting the Silence of the Lambs!
(Your ķ͖̠͙̫̗̣͒̊͆̾̎̽̃̈͘ǐ̷̧̛͍̦̟̜͙̥͎̔̄̽̾͢d̡̡̮̗̜̻̱̮̼̊͒̈́̓̔̊̊͒͌͜s̴̤͉̲̜̖̻̈̆̓͗̾̓̅͢ will love that one)
Stand and applaud as I attempt dangerouse ş̵͇̲̗͒͋͐̅̚͝ͅt̸̨͙̣̰̬̩̱̥̝͒̓̀̓̏̏̓͘͠ų̷̢̨̥͓͕̉́͑̿̕͢͝ņ̸͓̱͚͈̭̣̬̘̀͑͗͊̆ͅt̶̨͇̝̻͍͉̼̎̓͟͠͝͠s̴̡̧̗̹̰̩̘͇̤̈́̽͛̊͐͟ off the jungle gym that I have only seen In Hollywood movies!
Watch me .
p̝̞̖̳̪̮̫͙̅̋̉̄͐͆̔̆̔̿ę̺͔̘̭̺̲̫̐̅̀̿̓͢͟ẽ̷̗͔͍̬͔͗̇͊͛̽̓͘͜͜ļ̟̬͎̗͙̫͎̇̔̂͗̓́͟͠͡͝ off my s̷̫̰̜̤̠̿̆̎͋̕͟͜͠k̴̢͔͔̳̬̻͗͑̀̌͂͐̔͑̊ͅi̷͓͖͉͚͚̠̝̙̝͌͊̄̀̏͊̑͝͡ͅņ̭̻͙̩̜̇̽̈́͋̄̔͡, and use my wet muscles as lubricant to make the roundabout go faster!
Watch me dunk your neighbors dogs s̴̢̨̘͎͉̪̪̦͚̄͋̃͛̊̆̀̓͘̕ȩ̧͎͈̀̀͒͋́̐͟͠v̸̦͚̠͕̏̂̎̔̀̊͆͢͝͞e̡̳̠̺̠̟͇͂͛͗͋̍͑͢ŗ̢̦͎̮͉͕͍̊̐̓̂͛̽̒̄͒͗e̗̩͚͖̫͋̄͟͡͠͞ḍ̴̢̲͔͖̣̪̾͌͗̀̒̄̄͞ head in the basketball hoop!
Have you ever seen a rat with no
f̵̢̣̘̦̱͚̟̟̱̀̏́͐́̍̄̚i̵̢̢͎̺̘͚̿͒̐̈́̀̓̌̚n̛͙̟̦̟͕̩͒̌̍͑g̢̰͕̤̝͑̏̅̆̕e̸̡̢͈̥͓͉͐̊̋͑̀r̛̩͔̻̩̮̱͆̒̽͆͋̚ṡ̸̛̛͎͕̯̳̻͙̏͘͝?
Would you l̨̛̦̟͎͇̲̼̦̱̠̓̀́̇̏̀į̧͎̭̫͓̮̫̮̌͆̎̐̀̽̎͌̚k̴̭̼̥̱͖̃̽̎͒͋̅́͠e̹̟͖̩̱̰̬̯͆͑̅̅͌͗̀̀͟͠ to?!
I
Would.
Come one come all,
to something, entirely new!
Enjoy something.... .
.
R̴̛͕̺̝̜͔̈́͋͑͒̎͆̏̓̒͜Ā͙̻͚̗͌́̃͂̊̈͗̚͞ͅW̶̙̻̰͙̹̲̗̆͋̈̇̓͜
.
.!
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
I want to make love with you
wildly, savagely, viciously
insatiable need crowds out all thought
except for how you feel to me
it's more than lustful carnal craving
raw passions threaten to explode
we're one, together in that moment
senses burning, overload
hearts pounding, muscles shaking
salty sweat, bodies aching
driven into breathless frenzy
release, that moment stopped in time
once more, to feel that you are mine
May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 4:14 AM UTC
Intense Workout
I try to workout diligently,
at least 3 times a week,
the muscles are tight and strong,
I'm certainly no geek,
I pump the iron, walk the track,
listen to my tunes,
but lately I've been distracted,
watching for ms June
She's quite the lovely lady,
recently moved to this place,
she is French, with sweet accent,
puts smiles on my face,
vous êtes l'homme élégant she says to me,
her eyes sparkle bright,
I have no idea what that means,
so I just smile with delight
sometimes she reaches out,
and touches me on my arm,
de tels forts muscles she says,
and this makes me warm,
I need to study French I guess,
so I won't look the fool,
for all I know, there is a chance,
she is calling me a tool
the thing that's bad about this all,
is I work out way too long,
trying to impress this girl,
make her think I am King Kong,
now my muscles are getting sore,
I'm working way to hard,
if I keep this up much more,
I'll be searching for my doctor's card
Gomer LePoet...
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
In the chair he played,
His muscles burned with his pain.
It was always constant,
The needless burning of his nerves.
Fingers curled he played,
There was enjoyment in the music.
It erased the pain and the sadness ,
The that the many scars of his nerves gave him.
Then he was gone
17 and gone in the last beat of the hearts
we cried happy birthday
But he wasn't the only one
What of the one teacher?
You helped him play through the pain,
While you yourself suffered,
How soon were you torn from us too?
Its all to soon.
You know their will be a final symphony,
they wont let you go without the notes.
draped on your shoulders like wings,
Angels of the band.
You both were pillars of strength,
And we all remember and sing and play.
For the good don't just die young,
They are set free of their suffering.
And we love you,
Let the symphony play.
I will cry for the man i barley knew,
For he helped the one I loved.
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
Listen
My skin glistens
The sweat drips ~n~
I feel the motion
The rise of my emotions
The tingle in the spine
Expands in time
Engulfing my muscles
With adrenaline, hustle
**** reason
Incite treason
Don’t back down
Don’t turn aroun’
Introduced, an obstacle
Beat it like a rock, unstoppable
Heart, rhythm, momentum
Breath, flex, go get ‘em
Never rest,
There is no success
As soon as you think you won,
Something hits your chest
So stand up, strong
This fight is gunna last long
In 1 second,
You could be gone
ViKing
By GeoEthE
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
At the Zoo
Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear
Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize
Preludes to the parades and finale above us all
Weeks of saturated irony
Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ
As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery
Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs
Then gunpowder
Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos
Layers of streets in gunpowder
Towns built of gunpowder
Sky is gunpowder
We are born addicted to led and gunpowder
Gunpowder ****** in the air
Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest.
The Grand Finale
The Volta of the evening
The hammer of the judge
*** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-
show us some skin!
Covering your ears
Eyes fastened-
Ready to burrow back to mothers womb
Binged and free
Chinese celebration hijacked
Red, White and Blue
And a moment of silence
Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven
Chorus of arousal on Earth
Band marching war machines in hell
The showdown of 241 years!
This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about
Only free to battle shackling intoxication
Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring
Sulking for indoors and portable addiction
Chanting three letter obedience
God being counted by his blessings
Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies
Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll;
liberty synonyms.
Arresting the too free
At the Zoo,
The cuckoos regaining reality.
The phoenix red eye and held under oath
To the next day where we are back
To hate each others freedom, again.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
An old soul,
Curled up on the street.
Marks of burn,
Peeling skin,
Silent cry from the parched throat,
Agony on every turn,
Howl for food,
A sob in between,
Or was it the muscles' twist and turn?
Why did the burn,
Take just the skin,
Why didn't the heat,
Make some food,
Or give some heat,
On this cold street?!
And just then,
A passing gentleman,
In a black suit,
But without a boot,
Dropped me a drop of food,
And said, 'Look at that tree,
Burned in fire, jealousy and heat,
Soaked in rain, vain and pain,
Gnarled beyond the shadow's recognition,
Death has found him no definition,
So, you just rest in peace,
I will drop you daily,
Life in bits and pieces.'
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
Their skin is translucent
Veins crawl across their skin like vines
Their builds slim but rippling with muscles
They approach
Their eyes glow red
Color of blood from a beating heart
Pumping pumping pumping
They glow brighter as they spot their prey
Greasy black wings on their backs
Reflections of screaming faces seem to show
Faces of agony and fear
Right before they feed
Angels sent to earth because heaven didn't want them their
The devil takes them in gives them power
Because he was god's favorite and he was an angel once too
Their sent to punish those
Who escaped death and punishment
To get those who deserve it most
People like you
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
65 years from now when my grandchild looks me and asks me
"Grandma do your cheeks look like they are falling and why does your backbone rise higher than the rest of you?"
I will answer:
Baby girl what they don't teach you in school is that the older you get the more gravity pulls at you.
Keeping your feet planted and your mind out of the clouds.
Life moves down instead of forward.
Bones grow frail and muscles shrivel up and weaken just like your ability to dream.
Dream of what you’re going to be,
"when you grow up" because,
darling this is it. I'm all grown up.
I am all I was ever meant to be.
My clay has hardened,
no longer able to bend and curve with the wind.
Too weak to keep walking forward.
That is why baby run while you still can,
discover the world.
Leave footprints in every corner of existence,
because when you're as old as me your feet will be sore
and won't be able to venture deeper into the pockets of the universe.
Roots now bind me to this little house where I will keep moving down.
Gravity is too strong for me now dear. My skin has already given up. Succumbing to the mighty force. Falling away from my bones that lie hollow inside my cheeks engraved,with the memories too valuable lose after lifetime.
So that when this world had
changed,
beyond recognition,
I will still hold inside of me the days that I spent in the sun .
As for my back.
Honey, the best thing you can have is a backbone ,
because when everything in this world in pulling you down,
you're going to need something
to keep holding you up.
My backbone,
a tribute to the years
I spent tiptoeing across
the coal beds of this life’s mighty fire. But one day it will turn into a white flag of surrender.
That is when you know that gravity has won.
I will sink back into the earth
and maybe start again…
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
In front of the mirror doing my hair,
It’s all in the prep work, don’t despair,
Soon be time for the big event,
all this grooming is time well spent,
walk like a robot, keep a straight face,
don’t want a single hair out of place,
grab the phone, yes this is the spot,
set it all up for the perfect shot,
try to look natural, find the right pose,
hide the blemish that’s on my nose,
impossible angles, arm muscles ache,
the phone in my hand is starting to shake,
follow the light, keep stumbling back,
I think I’m having a panic attack,
all this stress is really no fun,
but a click of the button and the deed is done !
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Sleeplessness
Brought to you by sparkling espresso in a can
I have underestimated you yet again, oh humble coffee bean
But back to work
Eight tabs open, going back and forth
It's nothing short of a miracle if any given task is given more than a minute of attention at a time
Muscle spasms, trembling, fascinating
Overwhelming urge to mindlessly flex the muscles I don't have
Fake machissimo brought about by exhauation?
Or the exhileration of having to complete 8 projects in a day
While simultaneously trying to grasp a breaking down of my mind which hasn't happened since...forever
Hmm
These are the prime conditions to breed a taxing marathon of productivity
Or a chain of costly impulsive decisions to perpetuate procrastination.
Signs that someone is going crazy range from ****** to inability to stick to a single topic to excessive use of run on sentences
"How meta, acknowledging your insanity deconstructs the very notion of it if you normalize it within yourself and just look as everyone else as crazy! Ha.ha."
That made no sense, i don't think.
I like using big words to make myself sound smart you can make anyone believe anything if you use big words also it scares those
Hippopotomonstroesquipedaliophobixlcs
Grumble grumble
Good night/morning/whatever
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
***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***
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
You don't see me but I am
There, I have numerous ways
To take you,
Hold you,
Control you,
You'll not even know
I was there,
I am a conqueror of flesh.
Feeling...
Sickly, siphoned, strained
Both body and my brain
Doctor said it's just a cold
Nothing but a passing pain
Is this hypochondria,
Or is there something in my veins?
Your insides are my playground
To cause you much anguish & pain
I'll infect you slowly at first,
Have a little fun within your
Organs
Muscles
Thoughts
I aim to control, invisible
To the eye, but you know
I'm in here, your losing control.
Today I coughed up blood
Cold sweats come in floods
I'm drowning in my own bed
As I clutch my feverish head
There's an inferno in my skull
I'm taking Vicodin to null
Whatever it is eating at me
I know I'll be better in a week.
You apes think size is intelligence,
This was your undoing from the start,
I replicate myself, as its my time to move on,
I leave apart of myself here
As its time too
Infect
Multiple
Spread
My gift to those around,
You sneezed
You coughed
Upon your sweat, I am
Now on everything you touch,
Time to end the play,
"Business calls"
Be Proud of your self
Patient Zero, dear human
You were my first,
But its time for me to move on...
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
The wind ruffles my hair as I sit atop the hill and stare at what I see.
A normal person would see buildings, cars,
anything you would find in a typical concrete jungle.
However,
I see racism and sexism.
Prejudice everywhere.
People assume.
People speak without knowing what the truth is.
People hurt others intentionally
These people who hurt others do not stop to consider that
their victims are human, like them.
All of us,
mere flesh and blood.
We're the same.
Male, female, homosexual.
Asian, Caucasian, Middle Eastern.
We're all bones, muscles, blood.
We are the same.
There's no need to discriminate.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
When I am inside writing,
all I can think about is how I should be outside living.
When I am outside living,
all I can do is notice all there is to write about.
When I read about love, I think I should be out loving.
When I love, I think I need to read more.
I am stumbling in pursuit of grace,
I hunt patience with a vengeance.
On the mornings when my brother’s tired muscles
held to the pillow, my father used to tell him,
For every moment you aren’t playing basketball,
someone else is on the court practicing.
I spend most of my time wondering
if I should be somewhere else.
So I have learned to shape the words thank you
with my first breath each morning, my last breath every night.
When the last breath comes, at least I will know I was thankful
for all the places I was so sure I was not supposed to be.
All those places I made it to,
all the loves I held, all the words I wrote.
And even if it is just for one moment,
I will be exactly where I am supposed to be.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
there are chains on my desk,
you cant see them but i can,
in fact i can feel them.
i can feel them tight around my neck
pulling me away from my soul.
they slowly drag me 'forward'.
my grip on freedom weakens as the links tussle my neck,
the singing of birds fade and become more distant.
singing choirs cease to sing.
the sun shines differently,
its a dim light with no glimmer anymore.
i see less colours now and my muscles ache.
i move less, smell less, feel less.
its cold as i subdue to the pull.
my clattering and rebellious steps form rhythm
my legs conform as i march in sync with all the same misfortunates around me
dragged and dragged we march
there is no point to resist
now we march
confidently we march
but our souls were left behind
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 12:23 PM UTC
That genuine smile of yours delicate and mild,
Can soothe senses and tempers gone wild.
A raging storm with ease you can calm,
That smile of yours is ever so warm.
It takes you only a few seconds to flex those ****** muscles,
To brighten the days of millions amongst all the hustle, bustle and tussles.
Your smile is so priceless and pure,
For it all pain one can endure.
It’s like the rays from a billion suns shining bright,
Dazzling and sparkling like the brightest light.
It gives that extra glow to your face,
Making everyone’s heart beat race.
It’s like the most pricey jewel one could admire,
Among millions it could spark a burning desire.
Every smile you pass is like a treasure,
Making the few lucky, millionaires for sure.
But when you frown in the saddest of ways,
It’s like the happiness in the world has gone out of gaze.
Dark clouds fill the overhead sky,
Rain starts pouring as the heavens begin to cry.
It’s like the world hits a note so low,
Their happiness takes that heavy blow.
An empty feeling fills the hearts of those,
Who once with your smile happily would rose.
So smile because the world smiles with you,
Cry and the world sobs with you too.
Times may get you down in life,
But don't give up the strife.
Don't let those pearls from your eyes fall,
For someone or something who wasn't worth it after all.
So keep smiling day in and day out,
And brighten the lives of those you move about...
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
I walked along this path through the trees
Lo and behold, I fell on my knees
For what do I see, but this vision of beauty
**** no, tis a hunk, boy was he a cutie
His muscles well oiled, as he flexed before me
My heart all a flutter, knew not how to be
So what do I do, shall I play the shy dame?
Or should I strip naked regardless of shame.
A moment had passed, I planned what to do
Despite the feeling that I knew I would rue
I walked to this god, who stood still as I watch
Looked into his eyes, as my hand grabbed his crotch
“how dare you ****** me! I’m a woman of grace!”
“you shall not demean me, no shame I will face!”
And so I turned to walk away
I would not let this man ever sway
To let me lose the virtue I gained
Despite my desire, oh how I have pained
I turned my head to take one more look
So many I’ve shunned, I could write a book
The doubt in my head took hold of me
And doubled my pace, so that I may be free
…..then I went to the 7 eleven to buy batteries
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 3:23 PM UTC