"musks" poems
she smells (nameless and shameless)
*a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless
morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-a-little-closer-tasting for the summer solstice,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded
the first of the season red spot-stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are mostly gender identifiable
my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within, a ****** hallelujah,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt Nile of the basement waters
the burnt crumbs of illegal in-bed brioche toast
amazingly invisible on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed, was yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things (popcorn pieces)
is just a scratchiest fragrance too far,
needing a sheet wiped clean slate
even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
one of us makes a (vice) presidential declaration:
she smells, I man-ually stink, each,
each glower shower nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass aroma fresh cut,
to exhume and then send away
this odor now christened,*
nameless and shameless
11:47 28/4/19
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
Drench these thighs
that twine on thee
shatter my world
as you tongue trippingly
Delve for sweets of
bottomed topped blush
whilst dew-drops sing
rich thickened pearly lush
Sweet, lust-given man,
is the wood of groves
stark primal musks
embraced by skin's glove
Ah so tightly shafted
this plunge oh so deep
will make you sing
(and make me weep!)
Embrace the night
with our silken sighs
as we drum the tribal
with deafening cries
Breathing the source -
those hourglass sands
guiding each another
midst our midnight-sun lands...
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 5:55 PM UTC
Tell, if thou canst, and truly, whence doth come
This camphire, storax, spikenard, galbanum,
These musks, these ambers, and those other smells
Sweet as the Vestry of the Oracles.
I’ll tell thee:—while my Julia did unlace
Her silken bodice but a breathing space,
The passive air such odour then assumed
As when to Jove great Juno goes perfumed,
Whose pure immortal body doth transmit
A scent that fills both heaven and earth with it.
1.4k
Carry me with hands, cold blue
In the night of grey hue, to a wooden canoe,
Then take me up to the church that's lost in the forests of silence and cherry birch,
You will find it in musks of fragrance, with probverbs of inspiration, oils of medication, songs of meditations, temptations of frustrations and the root of all creations
Lay me there with my relations,
But before you lay me, sway me with the kiss of innocence, on one another's lavender lips
Under the night of a lunar eclipse
In a frozen sky and numb fingertips,
When all is as it is, let it be
You must betray me
You must decay me
Listen and obey me
When I say you could not pursaide me,
I will be leaving even externally,
Without doubt and uncertainty,
My dead body will be eternally
And I will live in the taste of eternity
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
Till Death Do Us Part
Till death do use part a bold statement to make ,
but no one really cares once they cut the wedding cake.
A few years have past a so called
"Love that will last"
but
he works and cheats. And beats his wife and tells her to look neat!
She cries each night not knowing what do do
until one day she musks up the courage to say
F YOU!
He walks up to her and shouts,"What did you say?"
He smacks her around and tells her to stay in her place!
But this time she is bold and takes a stand
and says,"I can find a better man!"
She runs out and runs for her life and for the first time she can see
the light
The road ahead for her was tough she changed her name for that was a must!
In life all she just wanted was to be loved but now older she is prepared no longer scared.
It was her turn to shine.
She was no longer a puppet on a string
her name was Mrs. Sandra Lee
and that women
was
me.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 3:56 AM UTC
a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless
morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-on tasting for the summer coming,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded
the first of the season red stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are gender identifiable
my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt of the basement
the burnt crumbs of illegal brioche toast
hidden on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed,
is yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things is just a fragrance too far
even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
make a vice presidential declaration:
she smells, I manually stink, each, glower shower, nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass,
exhume and send away this odor now christened,
nameless and shameless
11:47 28/4/19
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
I dreamed of an island I could make home
But the sea rose and soon it was gone
So high on a mountain was next on the list
But crops wouldn't grow on snow covered cliffs
So I went to the hills and cut down the trees, made cabins where they stood and planted the fields.
All was ok, I thought this is the place!
Till the mudslide came and washed us away.
All that was left was to go to the plains, the breadbowl of life and to start off again.
Acre on acre we planted the crop, watered from wells drilled deep underground.
How happy we were and all seemed fine, till tornadoes came and moved house again!
So the sea goes up and the wind comes down. Floods and icebergs becoming the norm
Frackings poisoned the water and coal the air Japan glows in the dark so we cant go there
Nothing left but to find a new world and Elon Musks ahead of the game.
Mother earths being killed off by her own kids, as like parasites we ferociously nibble away.
She gave us the sun and the wind and the waves...
But once we realised
It was too late.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
there upon the antique mahogany dresser
sit crystal bottles in every shape
squares, oblongs, round, rectangles
filled with liquid of ambers
greens yellows and clear
intoxicating fragrances
of musks lilies and jasmine
clearing the passageways
evoking a stupor of exhilarating senses
heightened to ecstasy
he presses his lips behind her ears
she is all woman
she is his.~~lorilynn
copyright*lorilynn 2010
Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 10:15 AM UTC
There is nothing like the sweet
blossoming of a pretty flower.
So spectacular to watch
in her full splendor,
the unfolding of soft-petals,
tantalizing,
mesmerizing & radiant,
she is the artwork of the gods.
And how can a mere mortal man
describe such a sacred fragrance?
A primordial blend
of raw musks,
intoxicating &
delicious,
the succulent flavor
shakes the very foundation
of one's soul,
it stirs my heart to madness!
Such a sensuous elixir,
her matchless taste,
so satisfying,
so pleasurable,
it warms my inner core
right down to my very marrow.
And who can think about tomorrow?
For at this precise moment,
I long to swallow her
pleasing-moistness
with great earnestness,
a zest,
a drunkenness
prepared for me
by the arctitects of the heavens,
the universe of love.
And I should be so gentle,
to protect & to pamper,
to cherish her &
be careful not to crush
her magnificent-beauty.
For such a wonderful gift
is not for me to squander,
lest I wander
alone
for the rest of my natural life,
perish brokenhearted
& emptyhanded,
without a single flower,
held between
my tender fingers.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
*
When you are near me
Like a feather, I float
When I smell your fragrance
Like a breeze, I blow
I lose my balance and fall
When your hands touch me
Like dried leaves of a rustic tree
I ROFL and tumble like a child
When your humor & sarcasm touches me
My eyes roll out tears of joy
With a glance of yours
I dissolve my being into
Your breathe that I smell for days
I sleep-walk for days & nights
When I can not see or feel YOU
I walk into the flower boulevards
To steal every type of flowers & musks
To smell your mystical celestial scent
You are unfair, but your LOVE is fair to me
You often leave behind a thunder & storm in me
Over your hidden calm ocean of BLUE LOVE
I rain my LOVE like torrential downpour
With the sparkling sun in your eyes
You revolve the planet constellations
And my whole universe around YOU
You convey little but show much LOVE
When it is cloudy and when it drizzles
Soon after the rain, when YOU see
The silver lining and the rainbow
That's how I declare my LOVE for YOU
Without YOU and your essence
Without LOVING YOU
There remains no LIFE for me now...
*
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
Her eyes fold gently
as she takes bits of honeycrisp
from my fingertips -
the first from the tree,
still hard, ****
warm in the thick after rain,
hinting at cinnamon.
Her usual distractions,
squirrel on wire,
bobbing heads of neighbor girls
on trampolines,
lifting reigns of monarchs
and viceroys, mourning cloaks,
slamming doors,
jumbled voices beyond the fence,
bright musks of night prowlers
in the grass,
all ceased to beguile.
As if desirous of desire,
she stiffened at the first crack
of my teeth through the flesh
of this first apple,
then bounded across the lawn
and sat before me,
not as a beggar may,
but as an adherent
to the rites of giving.
Bit by bit,
taking each with neither lurching forth
nor brushing my fingers with her teeth,
her velvet black ears lain back,
her brown eyes reduced
to sweet slices of rapture,
she chews each in its time,
savoring each in its time,
not as a dog may,
but as a disciple
to Autumn's way
of giving.
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 1:09 PM UTC
When I: with small words: bent to whisper
Some of her hairs (bronze and electric)
Touched my cheek.
Adrenalin sang: synapses burst into flower
All awareness flared
Just as she turned her eyes to me
Seen from above: they were a deep green well
Where secrets swam,
The green core at the heart of sunset’s backlit breaking wave
Sunlight through summer’s stain glass forest leaves
Greenstone on the beds of mountain streams
Wide pale emeralds set in the strong and lovely bones of face
Whirlpools in which to willingly spin
Mythic green flash of sun drowning in horizon’s sea
Then, leaning,
Still closer to her hair (because I loved the voltage there)
I gave my words
But closeness was a shock that rocked: then paralysed
A near eternal minute: unfolding time was frozen there.
There was a thing like scent: no musks, no florals nor turpines
But it held me tranced
Cocooned by it I swayed upon my feet
Intoxicant beneath the sun
Enveloped in a perfect moment
Then: stunned: I had to walk away
In to the everyday
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 7:01 AM UTC
When the puff adder bites will you cut off its tail? Will you be like all the rest nothing good left, surely you werent born to fail, capsules of medicine as the medicine man draws in, he helps your lovers, desires of others, hes the cure to all your kin, Babylonian carpets of rainbow colors reak, you naked you dumbfounded your bright dress surely wreaks, Tellers, bookmen, warfarers of false gods, you lie around plant your feet to the ground flying in alien pods...Quazors of disaster, beautiful moanings the morning after, have you taken your pill? You ready to be meadly your words silent to **** I youthfully walk lonesomely to earth creatures, all murderers all have animal like features, morphine drips are rivers red, cinnamon musks to elephant tusks the ancients arent yet fed....(listen) by meself
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC