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Styles Jan 2015
**** this civilized **** I am set, like an object. So don't object. My eyes on the prize like my future subjects. All these haters is suspect, I pay them no respect. That's how a King treats his subjects. I blow minds like lare jets-- then take marks and get set. It could be the bad or the ugly, l'm as good as it gets. I'm raising the bar like I'm working my pecs, working hard, baring arms like I'm funk master flex. I'm laughing so hard it's hurting my chest. instead of getting money I'm enjoying my wealth,  weight a couple rounds, then rise up in belts. My Dawgs underdogs, like we training vets. I weigh the pros agasint cons, then Shakakon like I'm K. West. Extend my arm and drop a bomb when this mic turn on. My future brighter than prospects, standing on Prospect while the Sunset waiting to get it on
Cyril Blythe Aug 2012
I gulp down an Energy-Booster-X,
blue and sour.
Siri turns on Radiohead,
15 Step.

I step up to the pyramid of treadmills,
bouncing and salty.
Surrounded by Greek gods,
Beta, Alpha Gam, Pike.

I motivate myself by my surroundings,
bulging and ****.
Cardio first and then core,
2 miles, 200 crunches.

I connect my sweat in a line down my shirt,
blotchy and stagnant.
Everyone stretches in the end,
Thighs, biceps, pecs aflame.

I will not stop until I am perfection,
beautiful and sculpted.
Alarm set again,
For 6:30am, 7:30pm
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil.

Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe.

Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking.

Incinerating flames that lick the grate.

Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same.

Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice,

My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind.

Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you.

Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff.

Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality.

Let me get to know you and all your originality.

Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions.

Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time.

Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ******* your sense of self-esteem.

Dear, let me dream your dreams.

Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain.
Don’t let the pressure get to you.

Passion may play a key part in the sway!

Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives.

Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes.

Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions.

Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods.

Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom.

Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst!

Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent.

Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy!

Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses.

Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words.

Dear, let me dance with your intelligence
until we sink into oblivious mind-*** bliss…….
Claire Spencer Aug 2010
You were worried you would be too old
for that **** black vest
WHAT i texted back, annoyed

You were so beautiful next to your old friend
Body hard chiseled cut and toned
easy you being noticed in the crowd

Women smiled into your eyes
dropping that gaze quickly to your
pecs, those abs, whip cord waist line

to the throne of your powerful thighs
ending on a note of pure OH MY
you in a **** black vest

How old are you
Who cares, really look around us here
Men and women are glancing

They see what i see in its entirety
a young god on holiday
down from the east just striding by
*dedicated to Pop Rock Awards 2010*
LJ Chaplin Sep 2013
I have to run faster now,
I have to leave this town,
Change my name,
Change my face,
**** my identity and leave no trace,
The monster you made is creeping in the dark,
Yearning for the taste of a beating heart,
The bitter scent of soiled blood,
Alcohol and cigarettes,
Another fish caught in the net.

This kid is far from a ***** hot mess,
When he's unable to hide the stress,
To hold down tears that smell like Jack,
Barely able to keep himself back,
From the edge of his so called sanity,
Fractured by the pressure of male vanity.

This MANnequin is just a boy,
18 years and feels destroyed,
Metal pecs and washboard abs,
A dream of his while he covers the 'flab',
Betrayed by friends who style their hair
While he keeps on running so they don't stare
At the failure of physical attraction,
Repulsed by the existence of his own reflection,
Another flaw on a social scale,
**A grizzly end to this unwanted tale.
Ottar Sep 2013
Rest easy, read these heavy words of slumber,
tap your chest to the beat of your heart,
empty out breath even from the deepest parts
the void, will fill itself, with sleep, I hope for your sake.

Scrunch those toes to close, then let them relax and let go,
Half close those toes and let them loose, shake them once and again,
Tense those calves, feet pointed at the ceiling, if you are willing,
Go half way and shake the tension away, from you,
Quads and hamstrings, next remember in pretext, full and halfway,
shake the tension away,,
gluteus maximus
then abdominals
and lower back
and in their turn
chest, those pecs to reflex and relax
latissimus dorsi, my oh my you got your back
shoulders,
hands of fingers, just like the toes,
pretty soon you might doze,
forearms, biceps and triceps too,
neck and face shrug and scrunch,
you don't have the answer,
so pucker your face,
eyes are the last close them once,
eyes are the last close them half,
eyes are the last,

I hope you never read this far,
unless you are awake, after a
night of rest fullness, so if it does
not work, know this, I will sit by
your side so you can unwind,
I have a good year for listening,
on pillow soft words, for you to put
your sleepy heavy head.


Good...night...yawn
Make sure you are not allergic to any of the teas below, you might end up sleepy but
awake at an emergency ward...
did your try a warm tea, mint or green does it for me,
lemon is fine, chamomile, or some kind of herbal or there is one called sleepy time...
Tanner Angelo Dec 2013
considering reflections!
spectacular expressions excited by vernacular action
spicy and exotic erecting complexity!
forgetting the selective dyslexia
mental anorexia like pecs flexing
lacking dialect donating directions!
elementary subtraction of expletives
what the heck do they expect!
exclusion unaccepted
best guess reckon you're a wreck
what the heck no explanation!
Adrian Newman Aug 2016
I can feel you looking down at me
Because I dreamed of being a mother as a kid
But why should I change my past, so you’ll be satisfied
That I’m just as tough and handsome as you?

I don’t care, I know I’m not a stud
And I was never truly jealous anyway
As long as I ignore my thighs and pretend my pecs aren’t there
I can mentally punch you in the face.

When you smile it makes me turn away
You’re just too happy for me with your perfect, straight teeth
You’re too strong, way too strong for me
Your presence is overwhelming

Your hair is more messed up than my future
Your shirt is more torn than my self esteem
And don’t get me started on my height
Cos to me you’re taller than a ******* tree

And I can’t take (no I can’t take)
All this madness that I see
It’s taking away my individuality

When you smile it makes me turn away
You’re just too happy for me with your perfect, straight teeth
You’re too strong, way too strong for me
Your presence is overwhelming

If you’re the sun (whisper) I’d rather be in darkness
If you’re my heart, I’d rather tear you out
Cos I’m not perfect and I’d rather never be
I’d rather be a girl but still be me

When you smile it makes me turn away
You’re just too happy for me with your perfect, straight teeth
You’re too strong, way too strong for me
Your presence is overwhelming

So go flexing all you want, I’m not obsessed with you anymore
Mr Perfect, you’re more like Mr Weak.

15th August 2016
This is about what I think of society’s expectation of how ‘real’ men should look, and it’s even more damaging for a trans guy to be compared to ‘Mr Perfect’ because his body can’t come close to being like Mr Perfect’s due to its unique structure. I don’t I want to have giant muscles, brick shoulders and all the ‘chicks’. I just want to be a better version of myself, maybe a bit taller with slightly broader shoulders but I don’t want to be a different person altogether, that’s the point of transitioning: to stop trying to be a woman because that is definitely who I’m not. Thanks to anyone who understands this poem and continues to let me be myself instead of insinuating that I need to be Mr Perfect to be me :)
Title: Sunflower refers to Mr Perfect, Mother refers to my nature which is not shameful and doesn’t undermine my identity. It’s good to care about other people.
Terry Jordan Oct 2015
Facing an empty nest
my son said don't be stupid
use your apple laptop
to go on ok cupid

So i struggled with my profile
uploaded a picture or two
then waited for my soulmate
while stalkers came to view

One said he disliked people
the next, just casual ***...
seeking christy brinkley's
firmed up **** & pecs

Once i was a **** buddy
i swear i never knew it
until he said "meet melody"
that's how i learned i blew it

I'm not greedy, not too needy
so i'll say this right out loud
when it comes to playful ***...
for me 3 is a crowd!

Should i call on carrie bradshaw?
to explain *** in the city?
when samantha found her mr. wright
it ended not so pretty

Once a young man pursued me mightily
with passionate hysteria
until he asked for plane fare
to fly him from nigeria

Who IS that who winked at me?
what does it really mean
a sea of faces scrolling down
a modern mating machine

I digress, most do agree
that our lives flow like a river
but wait...what do i see?
my dream man in my quiver?
True story-a lesson learned!
Mitchell Sep 2014
The sand's soft underneath my cheek; cool and grainy like a scattered pillow should be. I hear the crash of waves and the call of gulls. A headache starts to brew on either temple while stale *** coats my famished tongue. I feel a light drizzle tickling my face. Flashes of wide smiles and high conversation skims through my broken memory. The suns rising. Its heat is on my back. My eyes flutter and slowly open to a scene of white froth colliding with pure light blue ocean. Seagulls bob up and down in the rise and fall of the waves, their faces look like their made of stone, their eyes indifferent. I smile, getting sand in-between my teeth.
I reach out my hand and grip the hot sand. Tiny pebbles rub in between my fingertips. Another scream from the sea gulls above me. The sky seems like no place for a crowd. Reaching a little farther, I discover a half-empty bottle of Bacardi *** and a packet of cigarettes beside it. A lighter is tucked inside.
"Lucky day," I say aloud to myself, "Lucky day for you indeed." I bring the bottle to my chest and lean it in between my pecs. It rests perfectly there. Smacking a cigarette out of the pack, I place it in my mouth and dig in my sandy pockets for a lighter. It's still there. This surprises me. I light the cigarette and my eyes immediately cringe as the heavy billow of smoke erupts forth. It's a sting I'm used to, so I blink hard a few times. The pain only lasts for a moment, then it's gone.
"There we go," I say leaning my head back, wedging it into the sand, "Let night become this day."
Clouds dissipate and the sky opens up clear. A toucan bird clatters its beak in the distant banana trees. I look to see where it is, but the birds colors are lost in the dark green and yellow of the trees leaves. I fit my lit cigarette in between my middle and pointer finger, push myself up to lean onto my elbow, and tip the bottle of *** back with my other hand. The *** is sweet and warm. Been sitting in the sun too long. I always like with a bit of ice in a Dixie cup. It pinches my lips and eyes for only a second, then starts to travel down to my stomach lining, warming it. The sun passes the dawn and the dark blue night sky becomes a new morning.
I lay there watching the water and the night become day for I have no idea how long. I've no obligation to no one, not even to myself. Time for me is a fleeting thing, but even if time is slipping away, where is it really slipping to? Time stands still and we are the ones that move. Perhaps we have created time to prove to ourselves that we are in fact alive?  
The freight train I jumped to get down to Cozumel came from Arizona. It was crowded like a ******* with vagrants, drunks, dealers, and desert kids. Me, I was in the last train cause I can't run for nothing. Shrapnel tore into my right calf when I was in the war. They tried to patch me up as good as they were able, but once something like that happens, it's impossible to truly get back to normal one-hundred percent. It's hard to come back one-hundred percent from anything when I think about it.
Come to me, lady Dee. Come to me lady who lives by the sea. You are the one I'm always thinking of. You are the one who sends me reeling and in love. Your hair is like honey: soft, golden, and sweet. Your eyes are like acorns: auburn and neat. Oh' when you went away that one winter's day, I was left with a feeling that there wasn't anything left to say. Where have you gone off to? Where do you stay? Will you ever come back to me? When will be that day?
Noon came. Children kick at my bare feet. Their laughter sounds like the echo of birds chirping. I can smell them too: red licorice mixed mixed with fried fish and fresh lemon. Where have they come from? What do they want with the likes of me? One of'em gets me hard in the ankle and I spring up onto my feet and roar. I see they're kids from town. Their skin is maple leaf brown and their hair, long and to their shoulders, is streaked yellow from the sun. I look down at them. Their faces are frozen, stunned. The smallest one of the groups teeth begin to chatter. I roar again louder and they scurry off up the white sands of the beach toward their homes, the smallest one lagging behind like a gimp donkey. I check my pockets to make sure none of them swiped my wallet or keys. Still there. My pockets are filled with sand and I dump them out as I make my way up the beach toward my cabin on the other side of the cove.
I built it myself, my cabin. She sits at the top of a sand dune overlooking the water. It's all I've got. Made a deal when I first arrive with the land owner, Perez Sandiago (Sandy if you know him), that I'd work for his iguana farm once or twice a week if he'd let me have the plot. They aren't too bad, the iguana's, as long as they don't bite you. Once they know you, they rarely do. More prone to sit and bask in the sun to bother anybody. All they need is to be fed, given some water, and left the hell alone as Sandy will say.
As I walk up the hill, a few small ***** and strings of seaweed in my hands for lunch, I see a small part of the roof is gone. The wind may have taken it off or maybe some of the tie came loose. The sun above is hot and relentless. I put my hand over my eyes to shade them walking forward. Sand washes over the top of my feet, warming them. I stop, closer to my cabin now, and take off my shirt. I lay it on the sand and place the few ***** and seaweed on it. Then I tie them up in kind of a ruck sack so the ***** won't get away. They're always running off to some place when they know their gonna' get killed, but I guess I would do the same.
There is a single chair I leave by the front door and I take it and step up on it to get a better look at the roof. There isn't any tie left. It either fell inside or blew away with the missing piece. I look over the roof of the cabin further down the beach to see if it's laying out there. Nothing, just the beach. The roof's too weak to climb up on, so I get down and circle the cabin. I make my way around and reach the front door. The only other place it could be, if it isn't further down the beach somewhere, is in the cabin. I take out my keys and fit it into the lock. It's unlocked. A wave crashes behind me and spreads out on the sand with a sizzling hush. I take a step back and think for a moment, then walk inside feeling every grain of sand between my toes.
Carrie Ross Dec 2011
[Ready?]
Yes but I really don’t approve of your obvious use of anabolic steroids. It’s an amoral and cowardly shortcut. And don’t even get me started on the innumerable adverse effects. Don’t even get me started.
[Can you keep up ?]
Of course but can we talk? Can we talk? The size and shape of your head is comical who do you think you’re kidding? You have, by far, the roundest head I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but imagine you as an obtuse High School English professor who doesn’t understand the source of his students’ laughter but really, it’s because you gave me a C on an essay because you say I had a “circular” argument. Or as an equally clueless physics professor generating chuckles left and right in response to your lecture on “spherical” whatsits in a vacuum.
[Are you tired?]
No, we’re not done yet—Am I right? Am I right? Look at you. If God ever were to create guns or pumps or pecs of that size, it would only be by way of some syntax error.
[How about now?]
No, let me finish—Who are you trying to impress? Masculinity most certainly isn’t the word to use. I’d say monstrosity. Who do you think is or would be attracted to a walking, talking industrial sized freezer. If a woman needs protection, she’ll find a guard dog of necessary ferocity. Or maybe, she’ll cultivate some kind of relationship with you and find comfort in the fact that if she ever upsets you, you could break the ***** in half without the slightest hitch.
[……]
I don’t even want to know the state of the pinpricks you at one point called your testicles
[……]
I wouldn’t even say it’s proper to call you “Mr. Universe”. You’re big, but you’re not that big. I’m more inclined to call you “Mr. Pampered and Pumped up New England”. I cannot comfortably call you Mr. Universe because I’m not comfortable having you represent my universe. The “Mr.” signals the “Master”. That’s just appalling. And what is with the spray tan? What is the true pasty picture of Mr. Universe throughout the winter months?  If someone ever has a question for the Master of the universe, I’ll be sure to tell them to direct their questions to the beefed up and bloated tangerine to my left.
[……]
……
[……]
Are we done?
[No]
How far have we gone?
[Nowhere]
What?
[You have gone too far, but we haven’t even walked out the door. Once you’re finished running your mouth, we can work on getting your fat, saggy *** into shape.]
Eleanor Webster Mar 2019
Candy
Bubblegum girl, I think you deserve better.
You're dating a man who acts like a child,
Leaving a breadcrumb trail of missed calls until you're crying down the phone at work
Leaking candy floss tears into the carpet.
Far be it from me to impart my wisdom,
There's only a few months between us
But I've stopped pearlescent pear drops
Forming on my cheeks
Because no man is ever worth it, sugar.

Vegan
He told you drink no milk and eat no eggs
Till your blood thinned out and your body starved
Girl, you should know
A man who tries to purify your body
Is aiming to conquer holy ground
Raining redemption on the promised land
This is not the Crusades
And he has no right to a single centimetre of you
Your body is a temple of ***, drugs and rock n roll
It's a sin to cleanse it with kale.

Sky
You had a friend who painted you the colour of sunsets
Bleeding, beautiful, bright
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
Did it hurt when he shot you down?
Was your daddy a thief because I swear he stole stars to put in your eyes
And now that man wants them out
Stardust in his pocket
Leaving you dark and blind
How do you tame the sky?
By convincing you you're a wolf in sheeps clothing
Dressed himself up as the victim, the lamb to the lion
Ironed out the creases in his smile until he's a cloudless day
And you're the monster in the depths.

Scorpio
Five foot *******
In love with the sound of his own voice
With a flex of his pecs
He tells you he just doesn't think you 'werk'
You just don't seem to 'vibe' and with that jibe
Strips the maturity from the situation until it's exposed enough to be instagrammable.
You know what he's really like
Round family a sweetheart, an old fashioned charmer
Darling he's built himself a brand new armour
A carapace
And you may well get crabby sometimes
But he's the one with the sting.

Anxiety
He’s sweet
Really
A pure soul with no ulterior goals in mind
He likes you.
And guys too,
Which surprises you a little.
Maybe it’s his unassuming posture
The way he holds his head
And the five o’clock shadow that creeps through till it’s gone midnight
And he hasn’t messaged yet.
He likes you
Really
But doesn’t have control over his tongue
As it writhes inside the stranglehold the brain has put it under.
He came to these studios to find a voice
And found yours, lilting, Celtic with a northern twang
Like the snapped string of a guitar.
You talk to him about...everything
And he tries to muster the words to keep up with your shine
Finds solace in your bed but not your lips.
He ends it over text
With bitten nails stabbing the keys
To lock your heart anew.

New Rules
Something about the hesitation in your smile says
That you are used to living on a knife edge
A bridge edge
A cliff edge
Anywhere he could push-pull you off
Throw himself into churning depths so you'll come back to catch him
But you're the ******, naturally
Throw around the C-U-N
Tea-sipping, words slipping from your mouth as we realise
A shared history, of a sort.
We've both felt the iron tang of blood
As we bit our tongues against injustices railed against us
Words and names buried so deep
They cannot be plucked out like the splintered praise of friends.
You say You'd take him back in a heartbeat,
But all you're missing is an echo chamber
A sounding board for your own atrioventricular system
Hidden behind your lungs
Is all the love that you could give.
Share it with the world.
Share it with yourself.
And don't pick up the phone.
A friend dropped by my shop today
looking for some grooming muck
I told him where to find it
And that he was just in luck

I said "is it a present?"
He said "no, it's for me"
I said, it's cream and shaving gels
You're talking stupidly

He told me that he manscaped
What the hell is that I said
It's a man's way of new grooming
From his feet up to his head

He told me he got waxed "down there"
I cringed and just said ouch
With out hair on our *****
Men just slide off of the couch

He said he kept himself real clean
In case the situation did arise
where his tan lines were quite visible
and showed white down on his thighs

He talked to me of ointments
and of implants in his pecs
i started going la la la
when he started talking ***

i told him do not tell me
of the grooming down below
we're friends, but there are some things
even friends don't want to know

i told him that my father
told me keep it clean down there
and never, ever, ever,
take a scissor to that hair

a woman wants a manly man
and i am certain of this sir
a woman will not ***** you
if you're prettier than her!!!!
SøułSurvivør Sep 2014
Your bulging
pecs they are perfection
your skin it glows with oil
but you wouldn't lift a finger
for an honest day of toil.
Your abs are simply
perfect, boy
you are
really
[][][][]
[][][][]
[][][][]
[][][][]
an ace.
But I can
tell that you're
a dumbbell by that
look upon your face. An
anguished painful countenance
that speaks like a loud shout!!!
Your wife has had the nerve
to ask you put the f'ing
garbage out!**



SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 18, 2014
This was HARD!!!
Thought are not suppose to be bottled.So I pour my *** down the sink when I think, it runs down,and I **** away the world afflictions, cause its bigger than my shrink.Hard to blink cause my addiction is I stare into space tryna find my place.To be libra, even with the ying yang cause its constant battle in my cerebral.
Dealin with neglectful people,resultin with me to project hate towards the one I call fam.
****!
I should crucify my hands cause its writtin so much sin from heart.Its truely hard to be positive cause im always dwellin in the dark.
I feel thats what my only option is.
Haunted by the future, dreamin bout the past,tryin to recover, and exhume feelings to rid of that never last.Cause I dont want  stained names writtin on my heart cast growin pains maken me nuts, groin pains.
I want no part of that!
Sometimes I wanna die of a broken heart attack.Beating too seperate pulses on the screen, watch  it get flatlined and silent like my hopes and dreams.
pshhh **** this self esteem!
I been bullied at young,laugh at cause I was fat and dumb,always askin for theyre pizza crust nd crumbs.Always picked last and never won not once.
But I aint done,lost my father, young and I wasnt a good son.Im his off spring that sprung with mean gene son.Him a Drug addict, im the pain addict,I inject the hate habbits an cry in my own attic.
Hopin for a dragon tails, or some
Harry potter magic.
At night I see father & son commercials on the tv screen, I cringe, cause I remember thinking one day thatll be me.To have some  sorta memory of the dAy that we meet.But it never came to pass or be. No sir-ree!  he was notorious, but all he gave me was a  missed calls and birthday wishes never granted, and dead dreams.And a ache, that came with me when I left the nursery the day I was born.
Breathless, a severe asthmatic. Abnia child,who eventually  grew wild,while with no father to tell him to sit down! Im AdHd I cant keep calm! Ima a pessimisst with thoughts in my
Mind that storms from night till dawn.
All about christ,with nails as the  pen in my palms.Reading the psalms,to keep strong but im still weak ,a lefty doin right is wrong.
Still keep my heart on my arm I still flex  nd rep love till packed solid like abs and pecs. But just give a nine or tech, to shoot bullet notes.The ology of knowing me, is a study of a SOB.. Shortness of breath...


Lost in direction I need a pointer,
And eyes cause im walkin wrong,
No seein
Not believing


-Deep Thought
David Nelson Sep 2013
152 beats without the drum
tight chest not tight pecs
that's way too much - way too much
take a ride in the wagon - needles inserted
with lights and siren - life inverted
4 days later
inserted defib to keep it slower
not working as of midnite
new peak at 205 bpm
pain relief - not yet
no sleep tonite
but still alive
maybe not the way this nite is going

Gomer LePoet...
based on a true story - as I am at this moment in Lakeland Regional Hospital -
Rah Fullmetal Nov 2011
I have lorded over all since the beginning of time.
Everything that ever was; All of creation is mine.
Can you not tell; Can you not see the signs?
Building the human body to withstand the test of time.

I breathed life into the stars; I gave birth to the night.
Upon my whims, I created the days and also the light.
The oceans, the lands, all were built by my hands

To all those that have seen, you have seen me at my best
My thundering abs, my rock hard pecs,
My simply irresistible mortal flesh.

I have choirs of angels singing to me at every meal
Heavenly tunes ringing out in all directions,
At my palace daily is the place to feel,
The love of god, the splendor of my will

I gave you, as man, free will to do as you please.
But an emerging trend has developed, it seems
Lately, I feel unsatisfied answering your needs.
Groveling, bent at the knee
You beg and plead for help from me
To save you from devices of your own making
Constantly breaking your own laws
Constantly taking the lives of those around you

Some may attest, even persuade themselves
That I do not exist; Living simply as a myth.
Hearing & Preaching my arch-rival's tales,
Of Sin & Corruption on massive scales.
Then answer how my work is seen
In the human body, down to the humble bean?

I send you my last regards
A message from on high
In hopes that you aren't ALL retards
Get your world fixed right!
Travis Green Mar 2023
Being by his side is like a walk in the bright, magical clouds
A vivid, compelling treasure in my dreams, a smooth masculine king
So clean-cut and robust as ****, so lovable and indestructible
I behold his mocha chocolate globes, and I am so bowled
Over by his dope *** smoking machotasticness

Loving him so much that I can’t think straight
I ache for him more than ever, in need of his stalwart
Charming hotness, to be taken into his radiant scintillating mantuary
Where his perfectness captures my queerness
Guides me to the transcendent limits of seamless mind-bending
Ecstasy, I burn with passion for his rare smashing attraction

He sets me afire, makes me burn brighter and hotter
Than a raging radioactive volcano, he stupefies me
He gives me the butterflies, he makes me smile all the while
He demonstrates his greatness to my gayness
I am so completely feverish and blissed out
The more he shrouds me in his uncontainable white-hot desires

He gives me a thousand astounding sensations
The more his stellar silken sexiness blazes through my headspace
I am enamored by the way he stands in my presence
His captivatingly intoxicating fragrance streams all over me
I feen for a chance to sink into his impassioned heart-grabbing
Enchantment, clamp my hands against his phenomenally macho
And wondrous pecs, all lovely and seductive muscles

My sweet saucy brick, his prominent russet etes hypnotize me
A million times more than before, I am absorbed by his gorgeousness
Thoughts of lying next to him, feeling and kissing him
Traveling through time and space, in sheer superlative harmony
I lose myself In the depths of his delectable relishable majesticness
Yearning for him to conquer and ****** my humongous honkers

Lick and twist my stiff glistening peaks with his fingertips
The feel of his bare matchless graspers against my extraordinary ***
Toys with my tight, fuckable warehouse, makes me sweat
As he pleasures me, as he moves his fingers deeper within me
Make me kneel on my knees to go down on his suckable stick shift

Hold him closer to me, let my clutchers rub up and down
His long, macho thighs and legs, put his delicious dangling swingers
In my mouth, peck his belly, caress and taste his treasure trail down to  Lush eye-grabbing rug, dive into the wildness of his liveliness
Steadily working his firmness, arousing the curiosity
Of his top-drawer artistic royalty, fire up his thugness

Have him so carried away as I have my wicked way
With his savage swelling snake, fill the tip with hearty heated kisses
Rap with his mean king-size *******, make him grow harder
Make him moan louder, make his manhood speak to me
While he plunges it deeper into my cakehole

I spectacularly salivate for him, worship his assertive
Immersive muscularity, cherish the way we traverse together
In grandly indelible and poetical harmony
I ******* him harder, faster, causing him to squirt out
Sticky thick milk all around my amorous perfumed lips

So dreamily sensual, so lewd and juicy
I lick it with my tongue and digest it
Look fixedly into his come-hither flickering eyes
Marveling at my magnetic lover man as he  tongue kisses me
Takes me deeper into his bodacious vivacious nation
Of hypersexual high-powered hotness
Tells me that he loves me, tells me that I am everything to him
Takes me in his brutal bulging arms, sends me in endless ecstasies
Money and dope
Things that people use to cope
For depression, loss, and boredom
Prostitutes get that stuff easy
Don’t you call a ***** dumb
Gets hella money just to swallow more ***
Yo, they do it cause they have to right?
But it happens so much shes no longer so tight
Girls are made fun of for having ***
But guys always wanna see their pecs
Well, I guess their ****
Want them to put your **** in their mitts
But why should she?
Why do that for free?
She can make money cause guys are *****
Just like I sound good cause rappers are corny
I’m just wondering why these blundering fools
Acting like hot **** when they are everyones underlings, their tools
I’m angry and I don’t know why
Wait, hold on, that might be a lie
All the people I love feel like saying bye
Try to spread the love, all they do is make me cry
I’m a man, I shouldn’t feel sadness, right?
Man, that’s the **** that makes me wanna fight
Shaming someone for their feelings?
When all you can do is drug dealing?
****, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t mess with a ****
******* man, you’re the game’s *****, you’re a pug
You dont play the game, it played you
And now it will take your friends too
Rope them right into your struggle
They're noobies, they're puggles
And you’re just going to train your dogs
To work in the mob machine, a couple of cogs
LIFE IS MORE THAN BEING A ****
Just roll up on someone and give them a hug
Please, just start spreading the love
And free yourself from ganglife, be an uncaged dove
****** Language
Where are you my lover?
You were always a blown temper
You took my shame and beat it til it surfaced
A brutality of another.
Where are you my sweet?
You often fell at my feet
And swore never to do it again
But we both saw defeat.
Where are you my ex?
Only useful for ***
Even that was half hearted and bitter
Unlike your pecs.
Where are you my head?
Reality is to dread
Hes nothing, don't recall him, god ****** woman
Hes better off dead.
NAP Sep 2018
Stepping through the portal, chaos’s pause is pressed.
I sit at a table with my baguette, fries & coke,
watching the world continue without me.

The sun is out today, it has been a long time coming,
yet I can hear complaints;
“It’s too **** hot!!!” – Typical Britishness.

I take a bite of baguette,
Savouring the flavours of cottage cheese & pineapple,
a burst of the tropical in my mouth, reflecting the weather outside.

The sunshine has brought with it an abundance of skin on show.
Short skirts & crop-tops; pecs out, shorts & flip-flops,
The wearing of whatever is cool.
Old guys in Panama hats, sandals & socks – Not Cool!!!

I take a bite of baguette and wash it down with coke.

An overpacked bus stops opposite, expelling its human cargo.
Limp, damp and glistening in the sunshine;
Sardine people exiting a giant can on wheels

I take a bite of baguette.

A homeless guy blows in from the concrete plains like a tumbleweed.
Despite the heat, he wears all he possesses;
jeans, jumper, an old school-style parka.
An old sleeping bag and blanket thrown over one shoulder, dragging along behind him.

He stops and asks me for change.
I give him my fries.
He seems grateful.
I feel guilt-free as he leaves;
But I wonder what else he will get to eat today?

I take a slightly guilt-ridden bite of baguette and wash it away with some more coke.

A posse of students come in and join some already seated.
Fist bumps and various cultural greetings are exchanged.
Instantly, the moderate hum of a busy eatery is shattered by the new arrivals as music goes on a portable speaker.

What a God-awful racket it is that passes for music these days!
Suddenly, I feel really old as I hear the voice of my grandfather in my head;
he expressed that very same opinion about my music of choice in the 80s.
The recollection makes me smile.

I take a bite of baguette.
Another bus stops opposite, and more sardine people get off.
More flesh passes by, both cool, and the Not Cool!
More of the homeless amble by asking for change and picking up discarded ***-butts that show the promise of a smoke for later.
Pushchairs laden with sleeping babes, toddlers trailing behind harassed mothers.
Workers, shoppers and moochers;
the whole mix of society passes by, doing what it does.

I take a final bite of baguette and finish up the last of the coke.

My sojourn over, I must now pass once more through the portal,
my window to the world.
Once again, I am simply part of the madding crowd.
Brent Kincaid May 2018
I’m waddling around with wattles.
Nothing in a bottle will change that.
Not buying a better looking hat
Or a brighter, tighter shirt.
My childhood left in the dirt,
I’m an old man! I do what I can
To not look like a wino under a bridge;
A smidge of aftershave so I don’t stink
And people don’t think I’m decaying.

What I’m saying is, I’m getting old.
Graying smudges among the gold.
This is me. This is what I see daily
When I glance gaily into my mirror
Expecting the guy as young as I feel.
He isn’t real. An old guy sneaked in
Again, and I wish I hadn’t peeked.
Oh well, this isn’t really hell.
I have never thought I was hot,
One of those handsome lads that had
Everyone’s heads turning for them.

I had dim hope there for a while
But, no matter how much I smile
Nothing wins like smooth skin
Broad shoulders and big pecs.
I mean, I was not a wreck, but not
As I said, even a little bit hot.
Oh well, I got what I got, true?
Can I or you ever defeat genetics?
Like father like son, and mother,
Creates another generation of us;
Nice guys and gals, but plain,
And this old man is what remains.
Sam Temple Jul 2016
flying elbow smash
top rope lunatic
smashing forearms with finesse
deftly bringing a ruckus crowd
to froth ~
cleverly spouted phrases
heel delivery  
sneering with spittle soaring
microphone weather system /

flexed pecs bounce in time
chanting masses standing proud
electric air
goose bumps for all ~

steel chair buckles
as skin distorts and goes purple
screaming hordes count in unison
each whack brings fresh cheers
sprinkled with groans
their ‘guy’ has been beaten ~

sweat pours from a chiseled physique
and a belt is raised high /
SøułSurvivør Aug 2015
---

There are some boyz
Across the street
The kind I wouldn't
Like to meet
They are as tan
As toasted wheat
Their bedrooms prob'ly
Smell like feet

Their pecs are pumped
Their abs are bunched
Eat a half a cow for lunch
I don't know, I have a hunch
They wave goodbye to Cap'n Crunch!

They play bad music
Have loud voices
Use poor vocabulary choices
They are cute, have pretty faces
But couldn't tie their own shoelaces

So long serene nights
With you, my moon
So long peaceful afternoons
They use their yard as a spittoon
I'm gonna just go inside real soon
And pick up the telephone
Call a number that I own

Soon of noise I will be free

I know their landlord you see!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/30/2015
New neighbors :/
Lewis Bosworth Feb 2017
—For my brothers in cabins, in hiding, out-of-this-world.

I succumb to the baby-oiled glossy perfect flesh.
The abs, the pecs, the shiny *****, the angles
and shadows creating those illusions.

These man-boys, some still acned and purple with
non-air-brushed bodies, fascinate me.  But
I look again.  These are photos of posing and
***** boys.

They’ve never seen the planting of garlic, nor
the digging of a grave to put to rest a
beloved raccoon, nor the dirt-fresh smells of
putting-down a root cellar, nor anything
that is our ‘neighbors.’

So, my brothers, I have no gloss to share, no hot
glamour to peddle. Rather, I’ll give you
my ***** finger-nails touching men in black-
and-white portraits, who consume me
with life and earth and real *****
and warts and paunches and hard-earned
scars and stains and 2X4 poems.


© Lewis Bosworth, ca. 1980
Star Gazer Feb 2016
"Bzzir Bzauchi Bzzirya"
Said the treptonite whilst hissing it's tongue to a snakelike reflex,
                 *"Cutreen Cutyl Cuttiness"

Said the gorzolias whilst arms flailing at it's rugged pecs.
                                  "WHAT THE ****?"
Said the human with wide eyes staring at the inhuman abominations.
                            "THEY ARE DIFFERENT, SHOOT THEM ALL DOWN"
Said the human as he reached for his weapon of extermination.
               "We come in pea...."
Said the two inhuman abominations....

                      

News Article : *Creatures unlike man shot down in what appears to be a police shootout. The creatures will be experimented on to determine their genus and abilities. Should any uses for their bodies appear, we will publish all scientific evidence of such to the Journal of Scientific Discovery.
Crystal ball mirror mirrors on the wall who's the flyest of them all's?
My bars stand tall y'all leaning like lisa cracked smiles
More foul than gomer Pyle could a run a thousand miles
Without breaking a sweat guns is flexed for stretching pecs
Inject the cold collect watch the checks cashed with ***
****** slouchers end up with ****** vouchers I'll stout ya
Statue stature before and after craft shed a beautiful blood baths
Paths of a golden wrath suckas loosing grips over halves
Sick with these bars G grouchy as oscar escapes like Escar
Stacks an empire underground Cae'sar none could par
Shadow of a super star ultimate words sticking like tar'
Zan jungle book bear clippin' necessities nipsy
Hustle til its a broken gristle since these cowards whistle
Morning birds chirps this ain't an excerpt lucid concert
Back in ya dreams stings like a controlled demon ring
Yo I'm a real man with methods bodies go red man
Once I wave the cannon fanning at ya church sanding
All these silly ***** knevil with the blunt pulling mad stunts
Checki itt!!?


All It took was a dollar and a dream visions of the unseen
Tunnel visions of green flashing over the braille peen
Activate the state of an insane grace stacks to a Chase
Manhattan chilling with villians records going platinum
**** an album freestyle drills til my women her legs feel
Vibration cultural sky crapping as the city vaping creating
An atmosphere don legend sitting here flows a comet spear
Disappear only to reappear mirage summer Minaj collage
Rhymes to beats hypes the freaks of a speech under the sheets
I'm hitting til it's goes soft get ya head out the guttas stutter
Hataz bring em back to the status of an incubator state a
Brother with the rawest tendency more mellows than Quincy
Jones alone I hold this mic like it's Solomons throne clones
Love to go for a jocking I'm socking the industry til it's popping
None stopping gotta keep it tight turn a ****-Neo leftist from an alt-right
Dangerous with these pedigrees ask Albert Pike
Sike awakening the dead with the stench of my spike
Verbal sorcery pyromancy who wanna chance me
I'm chilling like Tut golden snake hat with a raw batch
Choke the mics throat air out the smoke of fires wrote
Don't let the sleeping lion get poked only to provoke
An uproar ramping from city to city high voltage cranked energy
Check it!!!
..and you know because you've done it too

looked in the mirror and thought who
wouldn't want this chunk
this fabulous looking hunk of man

then

wonder if my *** looks big in this
look at the pecs
get yer specs on for these
don't
don't
don't look at those knobbly knees

krap

so you spend some quality time
putting your clothes on
composing a rhyme

no one will see those knees.
M Jan 2015
I never realized the discontent within me
or, I did, and I ignored it, happy to shut it out
when my soul didn't fit the definition of woman that God provided
I told myself, actually told myself, that I could be a man of Christ
and I held to that in the quiet of my heart, silently
When I was little I used to pray to God that he would make me a boy
I used to cry myself to sleep because there didn't seem to be a solution
there was no way, except for a miracle, maybe one day
I'd wake up and everything would feel right
and as my hips grew in I couldn't help feeling upset
that my jeans would never sag and I would never be angular
I didn't know that blocking out these thoughts wasn't normal
I didn't know that most everyone didn't have these thoughts
I used to dream about growing out my beard
I only watch straight **** and I'm not sure why but I think
it's because I have never seen myself as a woman
I used to play outside with my shirt off, fighting off the dog with my 'spear'
I thought I was a warrior, I thought I was a king
I thought I was one of God's golden angels
I thought my voice was low when I began to sing
I made friends with boys and had crushes on girls
just like all the other boys
and when they left me it was the saddest thing
My teachers told me I should just play with the girls
and I cried. What child, when told to wear a dress,
tells her mother that it was the worst day of her life?
What child wants to grow out her leg hair and have pecs, not *****
what child wants short hair and a beard and narrow hips
what child wants to kiss girls in a chivalrous manner, not
like a woman stealing a girl away from her heterosexuality,
what child feels like she's in a costume when she dresses up
and wears makeup, what child immediately removes her nail polish?
who am I? Am I who they say I am?
I've been thinking about this a lot recently and digging up some old repressed memories.
Gregory K Nelson Sep 2018
1.
The water spills down warm then hot then cool again
And when I slide down the shower wall and find myself seated
The drain between my knees ******* down the city funk
And I examine the sidewalk blisters on the souls of my feet
I realized yes it happened again, but it is over now
And I breathe deep, then deeper, trying to feel the medicine
of oxygen, of ginger ale in my broken throat, of bourbon, of lithium.

There are things only Angels can do, but their are plenty of Angels in Brooklyn.
Avie bouncing round the safe house, a bubbly "spirit in the night."
Will Powers slowly circling the felt, speaking softly of cinema,
The atomic dogs in and out of the bathroom, the scent of Columbia circling them.
Tony in the corner whispering in ears, his eyes on the till, his hands missing his Les Paul.

I feel it again,
In my legs, in my groin, in my hands,
In lands far away,
In visions of alternative days,
In dead ocean waves,
In blood soaked caves.

I feel like Crazy Janie
Making love in the dirt.
Like a child raised in the
Spanish country side by wolves
Putting on his first clean shirt.

Now I know I'm going down, and not just because she's not around.
It's because I find myself commanding a night brigade and there's still 5 hours till sunrise.
Big man assist me please, I got turf stains from Rugby on my knees.
I got Angels around me, but they don't want to hug, they don't want to make love,
it may be time to consider, my aging face, and my overdrive pace.

So I settle for Rock And Roll.
Follow Will to his roof with Strategy Matt.
And the city was bright shining
In red, white, and blue light.
I spun slowly and widened my eyes,
a little dance on top of the world,
pumped my biceps and pecs,
I unfurled and twirled.

You can't start a fire with out a spark, girl.
You can't truly be ambitious unless you are prepared to love the whole world.

2.
Working out in the beer cooler.
If I’m gonna lift boxes for twelve
dollars an hours might as well get
exercise, might as well feel that
Trapezoid pump and bump,
Fifteen left pumps of the thirty
Pack, then thirteen rights,
Step, renegotiate my balance,
Step, feel the calf, the toes, strike a pose.

Sweat cascading, anticipating
A delivery, an emancipation
From the slow tick of clock.
Make a label, flip a bottle,
Wave your racing thoughts,
To the periphery, make a six pack.

Customers - man the register.
Make it beep, penny keep,
Penny leave, find a box,
Watch the clock, slow your
Movement speed your mind.
Bet on how many more through
the door, flip the lights and sign.

3.
The last day of a manic episode is a bad day to pick up a paycheck.
The money is like oxygen to the flame.
It can reignite the inferno, leaving you another moth dancing on tongues of fire.
Or just a slightly over weight man in his late thirties flinging darts at a machine at the Blind Rhino.

Can't go on a date in Manhattan without ending up in Brooklyn a sleepless forty-eight hours.
Can't go to South Norwalk for **** and not spend the rest on beer and pool.
The night before I got fourteen hours sleep.  It was over.

It started again.  The walking the talking the smoking the spending the joking the posing
A manic puppet on the string of his own euphoric string, a lonely space cowboy
chucking faked darts at a machine that records me.
Buy me a whiskey.  This is my America too.

I of the insane, the crazies, the water heads, the criminals, the ******,
We will all "walk like Brando into the sun."
We will rage, riot, rebel, and revolt,
And walk the highways together,
Under a relentless sun,
And keep walking at night in the cooler soft light of the moon,
and keep walking at sunrise,
Through blizzards, and golf ball hail,
We will walk through the raining of giant toads if we have to,
and life will turn into a movie,
where all the cameras belong
to us.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D8JlL4aeOk
Graff1980 Aug 2018
Where do all the super heroes go?
Big bulging biceps,
pecs ready to
rip right through
in t-shirts
or super suits.

Moral quandaries,
social philosophies,
counter to expectation
these are not merely
masked muscle men
and women
we are facing,
but symbols.

Righteous warriors
going round for round
putting clowns into the ground,
or refusing to yield to
the urge to **** the few
big bad dudes
who wear ridiculous costumes to.

Guns and knives
squads of suicide
life on the edge of tomorrow,
but those forces are fragile
frightening forms as agile
as circus acrobats,
almost immortal
because they
always seem to come back.

These are merely
specters of mythic glory,
manifestations of our magnificent
imaginations,
panels of artistic exaggerations.
Truly, the inspiration
of my own self-creation
because in a world
without superheroes
I long to be one.
Travis Green Apr 2023
He is my infinite heavenly universe
An ardent sparkling treasure
That spellbinds my entireness
That refreshes me with his boundless bright smile
In the mighty, rising, and towering sunshine

I find warm exalted solace in his long, macho arms
My ******, hypnotic, and rock-solid heart-throb
My fierce superior showstopper
I utterly love his boldness, dopeness, and showiness
How he has me bound by his beguilingness
Slowly slipping away from the realm of reality
Into the galaxy of his majesty

Listen to his strong, baritone voice
How I rejoice in all his wondrously
Impressive and poetical majesticness
With profound and appealing charm
So suave, enthralling, and remarkably knowledgeable
So badass and splashy as ****

I wanna caress his full flawless beard
Rub his broad tattooed pecs
Kiss his magnificent, manly-looking shoulders
Treasure him from the top of his head
To the soles of his feet

Taste every passionate incomparable word he speaks
Bewitched by the delicious richness
And slickness of his glistening and thrilling masculinity
When I take him into my innermost
Regions of my existence, stoke my homosexualness

Unleash his intense, relentless heat
Break open my mind, body, and soul
Make me so hopped up and shell-shocked
As he taunts my architecture
Enchant my inner woman

Let me be the only one that manliness craves
Teach me how to please thee
Show me the way into his **** *** sound system
Take into the hottest mind-boggling stages of ecstasy
Stare into the mirror of my queer world

Deflower me, devour me, drown me
In his unrivaled enticing delightsomeness
Draw me into his bright shining enchantment
My gayness suspended in his web of vivid fervent sensualness
I greatly adore his crisp, moist sweetness

Find deep meaning in his chemistry
Delve into the radical chapters
Of his magical page-turning attractiveness
My untouchable succulent drug
He has me so turnt up
Feening for one more hit
Of his desirable high-powered ****
Chapter XIX
Phalanges of Alexander the Great

From here, through the pavilions, he could see from Asia with some of his faithful Alexander crews. There were Bears and Crocodiles coming from the nearby pass from Gorgan. "The Red Serpent" defensive construction, they came with Alikanto's steeds. Provided with large litters of animals to be attached to the cavalry of Alexander the Great. This incredible fortification that begins on the Caspian coast, north of Gonbade Kavous, and continues northeast and disappears in the Pishkamar mountains. They continued on the columns next to the Bears and Crocodiles. They were part of the totemic dreams that Vernarth had when he took hallucinations with his regressive tours of the sacred spaces when falling into a trance and joining in connection with his pet animals, rhythm are from the applause of the drums. Alikantus, came rushing flying almost without stopping and without being distracted, you brought the potions and the armory instruments. He was already ready for the hours that came to fill out the details before taking the game with the Heavy, Light and Thessalonican infantry. Among the most basic of his mission was to perform the potion ritual, broadcast on the harangue with the Woodcutter, and distribute the javelins to Vernarth's soldiers.

Anchoring his blue hooves of unknown fire from the Gods, he manages to catch a glimpse of how Veernarth was pulled from the back of a spirited Elephant. He was also accompanied by Alexander's astute dog guardian named Péritas, who was already hinting at him to get ready and get up with airs of warlike stratagem. Vernarth came from his last Opioid session, to institute his fibrous vegetable lianas that commonly remained some of them and were cut in the jugular vein that clogged his neck, which always had laurels in Rosa, and for the average of substances he had to ingest for some days. He would continue daily to be united with the infinity that saw him born, as the greatest Commander of Alexander the Great, neither imagined nor compared ... !.
The Gorgan wall had a length of at least 200 kilometers, superior to any of the Roman walls that were outlined in archeology as fortification works. It was strenuous enough to surpass it and set sail with the Bears as they were concerned at being close to Tel Gomel, sensing that they were approaching Vernarth's bed; because they were their very adored pets next to the Tupac Crocodiles. The Horses were commanded by a guardian of the Gorgan wall, who, being from the Persian army, was seduced by the bears to fight alongside Vernarth.

Next to Bumodos, Vernarth was already seen playing with his pets, Bears, Crocodiles, and Alexander Magnus' dog; called Péritas. Beyond it, he submissively approached him, shaking his frosty neck, Alikanto or Alikantus, who came with gifts and drugs for his master brought from Medea's prestigious phalanges. Vernarth could already see himself almost emancipated from the trunks of the branches and the strains of his veins, which mostly populated his pecs and both arms full of plague tattoos that had colonized him.
Almost at dusk over Zeus's beards, the Vernarth Phalanges begin to arrive. The Macedonian phalanx or Macedonian phalanx was an infantry formation created and used by Philip II, and later by his son Alexander the Great in the conquest of the Persian Empire. The Macedonian phalanx arose, in fact, as a response to the tactical modifications that the Theban strategists, Epaminondas and Pelópidas of ground forces, developed in the early 4th century BC. C. to oppose the superiority, although already decadent, that the Spartan hoplite formation had exerted in the land combats between the Greek cops until that date.

Alikantus addresses his master : My monarch who lies under the serene of all the sleepless nights! From Corinth to Thrace I have emphasized the metaphysics of the principles of Aristotelian philosophy, and that by greater unity it takes shelter in the nest of the principle of being. Medea subtracted my Being and I destined for it to die in total solitude in Corinth when it fell the Universe over it.

Undaunted Vernarth fell on Alikantus' rear kicks, and hugged him to become the same equidistant. Thus the murky liquids began to decant through the hole in his nose and that of his pectoral, caused by the spear of an unknown person.

The formula of the potion or “elixir” (a term also used by decoction newspapers) is activated. Medea washed in Lete the figure that took Alikantus in an Egyptian amphora, with the water in which some flowers had previously been submerged during 40 days under the shadow of Hipnos, Clovis's father .; later, she had to collect earth from a 200-square-meter cemetery, and thus rub her body with despair.

As filters or elixirs of love they exist from the most remote Thrace. They are present and omnipresent in Medea mythological tales for all Vernarth pets like this predestined in people's daily lives. Let us remember the “witch” Medea who attracts Jason or the magician Circe who turns men into pigs with her wand and holds Ulysses (Odysseus) in her palace, for referring to the Greeks.

This time this longing free of arachnid cloths would transport him with his little beasts to the cooking of the remains of his therapies that would be prescribed from the Bumodos, freeing himself from the liliaceae that hung from his shoulder as a sign of opening his arm to settle in the ergonometric from his burly Macedonian Hoplite breastplate. Another essential element of the clothing of a hoplite and her deer; It was made with bronze tailored to each soldier, weighed about 15 kilos and imitated the muscles; due to its weight. The little mobility it offered, this type of armor was replaced by others.(Linothoorax)lighter. The Linothoorax was made from linen and leather and for the wealthiest, bronze scales could be added, which roamed the souls of Kalidona at night, when Etrestles de Kalavrita was an infant and dreamed of being a disciple of the Greek patriarchs. These body defense portions used to have family shields, myths, and religious relics, they also pointed to zoomorphic protections like the Gorgon Bull on their untamed sphere shields.

There were hours of lunar circles of boiling that Alikanto zealously ordered by Medea, and that he instructed to place the dense condensed heat on the gush of the words of mature magic on an immortal. That they released their twin gases from the clay ***, which stood out to lighten their anxiety as victor Victoria!
Vernarth says: He who is about to die for an unfortunate love if he does not abandon it, to leave him and so he will not be guilty of any funeral. With what courage your sanity does not follow, with my spear Dorus; hangover from my dreams and fantasies that go beyond my resurrection! How I requalify the value of potions and herbs to conquer the desired feat of love, beyond the boast of those who evict the luxury of not dying if I have a Dorus in my two hands.

Like the constitution of the sovereignty of the phalanx in the right hand with the Dorus spear of Vernarth, it endowed it with slightly protected *******, whose main weapon would be the Sarissa. This was a long pike carried by all the Falangists. It had an average length of five to six meters and had bronze points at the extremities; The lower limb had four stops added to plant it on the ground and be able to support a cavalry charge. Due to its length, the Sarissa was divided into two parts, which had to be joined before the battle; To handle it, both hands were required and did not allow the use of the aspis koilé, the hoplite shield, which was replaced by a smaller model that was worn on the arm. That is why they had to translate only movement into torque of both arms, he always warned of having extra strength to autonomously handle the Dorus, which he demanded of his infants and the Dorus, for the incarnates who were predestined to see the drunk face of Zeus' discomfort.

The helmet was made of iron, to drink black rain, and the most common model was conical, the tip of which was rounded and inclined towards the front, in the style of a Phrygian cap; the cheek protections (cheek pads) could be articulated thanks to charnels. The breastplate was exclusive to the officers and could be made of iron.

Culminating from the hull by the supra-ciliary corners of the bronze, he saw himself falling before the whimpers as the bronze smiths ran terrified, and waiting for the results to render account of the immortals with their hands daubed with adverb in their words. Endless cries trickled down the entire contour magnetized profile, and subjugated to the mortal prayer that delivered the accurate blows of the Dorus in the alienating field of gestures and gestures of war the Achaemenides.

To be continued / under editing
XIX ALEXANDER  PHALENGES
Travis Green Apr 2023
Take me into his blazing-hot tornado
Of  unassailable breathtaking enchantment
Dominate and stimulate my emotions
****** his ***** thuggish robustness
Deep into my heart and soul

Show me how ferocious his machoness is
Hold me. provoke me, smoke me
Make me his delicious *** kitten to take down
Feel him rule my beauteousness
Make me never wanna leave his rigid vigorous grip

My sinewy, compelling treasure
He is so mighty and tight with it
Energetic, expressive finesse
Fresh and irresistible slickness
Astonishingly strong and disarming

Unthinkingly dreamy and hella sensual king
He rocks me back and forth
Make me yield to the perfect high-pressure rareness
Of his fervent adventurous immersiveness
I hanker to kiss his lickable lit lips

Groove on his top-notch smooth manliness
Trace my hands all over his ebullient handsome straightness
Cherish his debonair black beard
His noteworthy shimmering mustache
Allow his desirous fearless eyes

Arouse me in the highest, wildest ways
Let me seep deeper and further
Into his gripping and hard-hitting virility
Confess my deepest secrets to thee
Make me moan all night long

He rams his ruthless thickness in my guts
Corrupt me, deconstruct me, love me
Make me frenzied and superheated
Set fire to my entireness
Swirl my submerged mind

Make my body steadily shudder
As he unleashes his untouchable treasured robustness upon me
Ravish and smack my eye-catching ***
Compose his dope poetic sexiness all over me
Press his majestic caressers against
My delectable velvet back

Enthrall my thought process
Punish me with his slick, thick meat
Feel his big bouncy sack slap against my divine enticing thighs
Infect every sector of me
Make my inner walls worship thee

Push harder into my flowery forest
Of the sweetest blossoming  dreams
Feel me concede to his ungovernable ardent heat
Make me shake as he violently takes my nation
Place me in a state of disorientation

Amaze me with his flawless starry phenomenality
Give me everything he got
Listen to the pleasurable sounds arising from my mouth
Hold me spellbound, pull me into his profoundness
Press his powerful pecs against my satin back

Shove his thick tasty throbber further into my manhole
Make me float in sexually seductive ecstasy
Love me dangerously, put it down for me
Make me so enthusiastically happy to be with thee
Hypnotic hot boy, go deeper and deeper inside me
And shoot his huge load of crunk ***** in my succulent tunnel
Travis Green Mar 2023
When I see his pure, powerful exquisiteness in my sight
His chocolaty saucy hotness, his **** velvety majesticness
He renders me breathless, fills my vessel with deathless
Infectious bliss, makes me salivate to take a bite
Out of his crowning brown enticingness

Tease his thick, delicious lips with gaudy lawless kisses
Caress his incredible rock-solid pecs
Check out his unbelievably massive and spectacular biceps
His dramatically eye-catching abs
Long astonishing thighs that hypnotize
My bright, deep-set eyes, striking hairy legs

An unrivaled sexing pipe that makes me
Pine to give him the baddest mind-blowing brain ever
**** it with great pleasure, relish the way it smells in my mouth
Circle my tongue on every side
Lick his distinguished *******

Play with his breathtaking *******
Make him so obsessed with my stellar yummy voluptuousness
Slap me in the face with his splendiferous thickness
While I admire his extremely hot architecture
Such a naughty macho talker

He bewitches me the more I remain
On my knees in front of thee
I am in awe of how he draws me
Into his abundant sumptuous jungle
Of the nastiest splashiest carnality

I wanna feel thee ***** deep in my throat
Unleash his unbeatable hard-hitting thunder upon me
Conquer me, make me worship thee
Invade my inner space, permeate it
With fragrant salacious sensations
Of blazing hot, engaging nakedness

I wanna taste his bold, ferocious poetry
Flowing downstream into the kingdom of my innerness
Fill my heart and soul with boiling-hot thoughts
Of his redolent robust machoness
As I fall deeper into his wonderfully honeyed ecstasy

With a charming and sparkling body
An undeniably awe-inspiring backside
That has me walking on air
Service his firmness, ****** every inch of him
Make him wild out, check me out
While he stretches out my mouth

Make me fall under the spell
Of his sweet-smelling perfection
I adore him the sweetest and loveliest rose
Grabby *** tatted splash
I bask in his action-packed supernatural immaculateness

Every moment with him blows my mind
Face to face with his huge black monster
My most prized possession
I slobber all over it, from the tip to the base
I embrace it amorously, give him bomb throat
UntiI I choke, put it back in my trap

Rap with it, let it attract my attention
Make my heartbeat race
Put his gigantic, thick snake all up in my face
Infatuate me with his dangerous, futuristic manliness
Cling my touchers to his full ruthless length

Maneuver my mouth around his shiny sublime crown
Slide my tongue up and down his bang-up veiny pipe
Feel it against the roof of my mouth
Nuzzle my nose against his gorgeous grassy forest
Make it wet and delectable

**** on his big bouncy sack
Enthrall and massage them
Get a load of his mind-bogglingly broad and strong musculature
Slick the tip with my thick lustful lips
Listen to his pure revered moans

He makes me paralyzed
Surrounded by his fiery enticing delightsomeness
Make time stand still as he sends
Sudden, intense chills throughout my existence
Let me endure his extraordinarily fierce and spectacular storm

Smother me in his profoundly deep and ceaseless thrillingness
Make my gayness sway in his wild towering space
His swift sinuous movements
Let me be a slave to his greatness
Let him manipulate me with his naked salacious brazenness

Consume me, control me, expose his molten hot smoke
Make me feel his approaching fast-moving mantasticness
All over my ample soft body
Enamor me with his volcanically active splashiness
Savor his high-powered unrestrained strikingness

Let him peel my mind, body, and soul
Cause my flesh to sweat
Caress my youthful and energetic breast
Attack my taut chocolate raisins
Feel the beating rhythm of my existence

Throat **** me with a vengeance
Cause me to fall apart at the seams
Make me lose my focus
As I probe his globe
Feel him capture and unravel my emotions

Push my head down on his fat magic stick
Make my eyes water
Make everything around us fade away
As he takes me on one hell of a rude
Fill my heart and soul with his hazardous hypnotic heat

Make love to my mouth and throat
Force me to swallow it more and more
Explore its enormously desirable gloriousness
Let him touch the inner depths of me
Make me his badass black-haired *****

**** up my structure, make me succumb
To his delicious ****-hot litness
Willing to give him all of me
Belong to him, be his ***** ***-loving ****-sucker
His best red-hot knockout
To make his hotness blossom

Hearing his deep grand voice
And deepthroating his mean dream meat
Makes me wanna be closer than ever
To his super tasty captivatingness
Let him spray my face with his creamy gleaming mayonnaise

— The End —