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Lyn-Purcell Oct 2018


~
I am a cynic and
a romantic at heart.
My skin hardened by experience
My heart fearful of pain and trust.
Many have tried to peel away
my doubts and fears and
try to add colour to my
truth.

My truth is my reality.
And with that, no one can
hurt me.
So stop.
Please stop.

Don't look at me with
eyes fascinated, eyes with
pity, eyes of doubt.
My heart's afraid
and my mind's so
convicted.

You taste sweetness
from my sourness
and still...
you
think you can
heal me...?
~


This is an old poem I found in a very very old journal.
Wrote it back 2014-5, wow.
Looking at it now, I think I've gotten a little better,
but yet, this still hits so close to home.
Training the mind to be different is a lot harder than people would think.
Lyn ***
What if I'm no better than what you've already tasted
Another sample of rotten fruit
Skin fresh and ripe
With a sour taste on the inside
ryn Feb 2015
Blue clouds gaze the wrapped sun
frozen kisses in my blood
travelling a thousand miles
to meet up with you.

There is none else walking
down this path where memories
wake up and dance
inside my armored heart.

I peeled off each kisses embrace
out of my parched lips.
I shook off the tree,
where your scent had blossomed.

Every step down this scarcely trodden path saw...
Each peel fall with helpless, damsel-like grace.
Brown leaves shone amber touched by fingers of the sun
Invasion of warmth through my greyed bony carapace.

Gentle tremors reverberate within with subtle anguish.
Sweet scented portal that took me back,
To the illusion of time where we once were...
In drunken stupor...laying under a star strewn canvas of black.

Senses that spoke of a great fantastical tale.
You are still here... In this cloying void with no one around...
Only that scent...your scent tugging on my core
Invisible tendrils berthing my feet back on ground.


Alone and wanting don't want to be anymore.
I want to feast my lungs on your skin once more.
I want to vibrate under your touch again,
In anguished anticipation and sweet pain.

I hurl your name to the echoing wind,
Blowing ferociously over the closed passage.
Only to find that I'm but elongating
the distance between our fading wishful stars.

Fading far only to find that I'm lost yet again,
Still harvesting a basket full of ripened hope.
Traversing planes with warped, slanted doorways,
Frantically seeking purchase on knobs with fevered gropes.

Heavy layered breaths inhaled too shallow...
Tracing missteps to decipher what it all meant.
When all is moot...weary, weathered and futile,
Forever I'll be bathing in the familiarity of your soothing, nectarous scent...



Dajena M
**ryn
My first collab with the incredible Dajena M. She had deleted her account and the collaborative pieces she had posted went away as well. But... I found them!!! Yay!

I'm so glad we had the chance to collaborate on such an amazing piece together.
patty m Jul 2018
In the pale beyond the moon
fossilized predators bay,
while stone footprints lead us nowhere.
We slide across meridians,
masked as silent shadows,
some run with wolves
and sometimes vanish
others are mummified
soon after they're born.
Lost souls, stray cats, fleas on the
backs of ubiquitous rats,
we flail ourselves with twisted hangers
sounding discordant notes.

Tattooed our blood rituals finalized
we peel ourselves from the edge
living knife sharp against the violence always flaring.
Beat up junk, reeking of smoke
the cruelty of it all and yet we reveal nothing,

Lionesque leaders stalk
jabbing their claws, partaking in torture,
now we are random prey;
no tower of control or greetings are chorused,
as we move alone or in pairs conversing only in signs and signals.
We align our sites on the bullet's trajectory,
superimposing ourselves on our enemy's vision,
Like demons spreading disease and infection
we fight until we die, or defiantly dance
in the bloodlust of future freedom.

Idols turned clay, the universe erupting
what do we make of it all?

Nullified regions under siege
and still they fight,
don't they know that we're all dying?
Really my Lady, such was not my Intent
To be the Bordered Jack who ***** your Consent
Your Basket remains yet much Food was Spent
And yes - the Reason - it's Bottom was Rent
Should we blame the Urchin? That I guess not
The Market was charged in Prunes worth to Sell
Else I peel each Fruit and leave it to Rot
Then shoulder the Rage of not being well
There She is: The only Unforeseen Truth
Distempered with my Touch of Forks and lies
Which I should have learned in her Peeling Youth:
That a Prune once tasted tastes better with the Eye.
All this I learned in a Lesson so Big
That the Grape recovered was born a Fig.
#toniacouch
JS CARIE Apr 2018
During her blood moon was the best time to make her moan,
make her legs shake and weak,
Feel her scratch down my arms and peel up my skin
Only 3 days it would last
but during those periods...
she would release multiple times
With the red moons spawn
a bear in the woods would evolve,
hunting her flood through a blessed disaster
finding what I was after,
in a late night spatter
Her finger tips hiding
the stake in my pants,
she'll soon be riding
In these moments I feel a crave,
a longing to misbehave,
Within blankets and sheets we inhabit this cave
Our leveled off breathing
will not reveal harm
Take shelter in the warm of more than apparent
and reside until morning in the arms of the inherent
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
And so the Pu'erh and Jasmine Lily
pearls are covered, my attention on
the Phoenix Eye pearls, and I peel back
the foil of a small handful. Ainhana had
carefully remove the infuser and I pour
in the pearls, listening as they gently
hit the glass.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
As soon as Ainhana places the infuser
back in the tea ***, I turn the sand-dial
and watch the cream sands run, and the
pearls steep. I dare not let it run for the
full five minutes - I find the perfect brew is
made in three. The pearls now unfurl, the
green leaves now floating. The clear water
turns into the colour of the finest champagne.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
After three minutes, Ainhara pours me a cup,
the aroma itself puts me more at ease.
'Do not waste it,' I tell her, holding the
handle and saucer. 'Such fine pearls can
be steeped twice, and I will make sure that
I treasure every single cup.'
'Yes, My Lady,' She says with a curtsy.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
With my eyes closed, I blow away some
steam and proceed to sip short and brief.
It is a pleasure that is most welcome, indeed!
Teeming with the fires of the Phoenix itself
and caressing my tongue with floral sweetness.
A delicious moan escapes me as I relax in
my Summer Throne.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
My breathing is calmed as I look at
the horizon with redolent eyes.
The choirs sing as I drink such fine
ambrosia! By a cup of Pearls, mine
own eyes feel inspired, as I think of
the lovely vision that is the Phoenix
that is born of the lotus.
Adieu, stresses of Court!
Adieu, plagues of doubt and anger!
Thy Queen is now jocund dove.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
'Truly the finest Jasmine Pearls I've
had in years!' I beam. 'Be sure to share
this with my fellow Kings and Queens.
Especially Queen Kim. In such a golden
hour, we shall become Dream Children,
to be lost in gardens of distant China.'
'Yes, My Queen.' Ainhara waves her hand,
Semui and Ilazi now resume play.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
As I sip once again, the summer
showers come. Lo! My gazebo
glistens! Cleansed by the light,
and life for my fields of my
fair gardens.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
This blend cleanses the fire of my heart.
This blend casts out sorrows for me to
drink beauty.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
A  liquor the shade of champagne with
the flames of life budding from a
delicate flavour.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
The Phoenix merges with me, for I
am the star of the morn that graces
my Aurelinaea!

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Such a blend of elegance in my tongue,
a heavenly euphony. How I'm forever in
awe of the power of
my Jasmine Pearls.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Final part of my Jasmine Pearls free verse!
Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it! ^-^
Lyn ***
Lets take the day off and chill out, not stressing soaking up the lords blessings, let's go out tonight enjoy a nice meal unwrap ourselves expose our fun side peel the layers off, relax by a waterfront getting high off the emotions of us, watch fireworks toast a glass of strawberry and cream champagne to celebrate nothing bothering us

Just a night off lets communicate with our bodys flirting with the slightest touch temptation not asking for much, the night is still young so juvnille, let's make it worthwhile no dollar amount a value deal of us just enjoying us do wild stuff like we don't now how to behave ourselves, radiate is our smile viberations of our laughter makes the valley's of our heart shake, sweet lovers a savory taste

  Take the time to enjoy us we been working so much not taking breaks convicted to the grind like tired slaves, not tonight it's date night we haven't had this feeling for a while now, let's takeoff day cater to each other feed both of us grapes do you want to split a cheesesteak?, nothing much just you and us it's date night take the load off
Hector Jan 2018
~

Where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?

If desires build trails, we must follow

until the fires are extinguished

or we burn down to embers-

I can almost feel you,

drunk with crimson lips of wine

numbing all my senses

if with a kiss I could swallow

your entire universe

and the universe remembers

how a flicker of light burst into fire-

And how your ******* may feel

under my trembling hands

playful ******* enticing

my mouth to satisfy my wants,

my teeth wanting to bite

and slowly drink the rising

desperation of a moment-

Then let the black lace peel

from around your waist

to expose your moon like skin

driving me insane with desire,

my mouth creating streams

of honey flowing down

to the river between your legs.

There is where I begin

to find a place filled with dreams

of heavens,

blissful elixir of life

in your flow I will rise

and find the fountain of youth

where my thirst will drown-

And I will take you,

until galaxies collapse into the light

you have become,

entering every space inside

in a rhythmic dance,

drunk with the feel of skin on skin

on legs spread wide

to receive everything I am,

every dream, every wish

and every want-

So tell me,

where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?


-
H.O
-

https://soundcloud.com/som-40/implosion
“I want to make you weep. I want all your pleasure, Iris, all your pain, everything you are. Come for me."
And she felt herself bow with the stark white bliss of her epiphany, the shattering realization of his words and his hands and his mouth. She was gasping for breath, shaking, lost, unseeing. The center of her being pulsing with pleasure.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Duke of Desire
nojak Oct 2014
it seeps like sap down the spine
this tar, or fear, or hate of mine
beads opaque and thick and full of sin
i pick and peel
but they get in

i still dream
but blue, it blurs to black
deep seascape of a tormented hand,
i bind, am bound, to the things i pretend i understand
circle of a girl
eyeing squares of man

light is the letting go
hoping you pull, forgetting you won't
each time i forget, i melt and i drip,
a bad trip.

but when i think of teeth
discerning meat from bone
alone,
i float back with loose palms,
a calm.
Grace Dec 2015
Maybe this is what trust is
Your scorching hands
Searing my shoulder blades
“I could if I wanted to”
Turned my insides gray

Thirteen year old skin
Stretched thin
Ached to peel away
Where your fingers had played

I was an instrument
But that’s not how I preform
I can only make symphonies now
Alone

I loved you
With every pulse behind my skin
Family
Blood didn’t have to make the bond
My protector
Becomes the predecessor to all my fears

If you’d press your ear against my chest
A reverberation of no’s would pound your eardrum
Freshly thirteen
Stolen firsts
I can never right again

“Don’t act like you don’t want it”
But it was you
Who mastered in pretend
Every word I write makes you more and more fictional.
jane taylor May 2016
i fight to peel each moment
of pure stagnation
off of me

a tinnitus cacophony whines in my ears
as my dilapidated fan
keeps slow rhythm to the faucet drip

minutes drag like molasses
handcuffed to the daily lag
groundhog day

i escape into the forest
running, the breeze caresses my face
wildlife pries open my desperate eyes

a spider’s web bends and sways in the wind
fine strands of silver silk flow
soaring they meld in crescent waves

a butterfly glides gently by
befriending gusts of air
softly breathing in another tomorrow

the conductor of the symphony
with sculptor’s hands i cannot see
whispers ever graciously

life is not your enemy
drink it in and let it seep
drop your sword i’m molding thee

©2016janetaylor
Mara W Kayh Jan 21
My life is a virtual battlefield
complete with hidden traps,
layered atop cowardly assaults

between highly guarded spans of peace,
Inside my house
chairs and walls
are coarsely blown to bits
by verbal bombs,
and stark fists of shrapnel.

Behind that simple smile,
semblance of solid love
so easily shaken,
lies a ripened mine field

I tread on tiptoes
yet it erupts under
calloused feet unprovoked,
blasting color to grey
as sacred sanctuary
falls to scarred terrain.

Spears lodged inside ribs
I peel myself from the ground,
shake off soot,
wait for dust to settle
before I march forward, again.

yes I lose the battles
But I will win this war.
Reminded me of the song by Pat Benatar, "love is a battlefield"
But again, hate seeps in as well.
CK Baker May 2017
the rat ******* has been re-purposed
(conscripted in a somewhat fodder task)
brandishing irons
and quarter lines
coiled and unwavering
insidious and cunning
pent up and fired
in  his dripping shoes
and peel back skin

wheel bug and hookworm
are stolid in his wake
(all bursting grossly at the buckle)
the heel on task;
slithering and rogue
merciless and coy
resolute and contemptuous
with his cotton mat
and quick ready quill

pungi and clapper
raise the clever snake
(croker sacks and wicker backs
dot the gasoline rainbow)
carnival barkers and kraken
(lewd in the distance)
taunting and vile
with their red beakers
and deep purple hearts

cicada and louse
high on alert
(ready to wreak havoc in the hog wallows)
the perverse cornered rat
snapping and soiled
foaming and inflamed
lurking and primed
inside his carefully crafted plan

easels and cover alls
suit this jackal well
(keefer’s little helper or so they'd say)
pickers running rough shod
all stirring up the stench
***** and conkeys
poised
and ready
to lime this cornered slug
Kristaps Oct 2018
As the deafening begins,
     slowly my cells struck by Cupid
start to devour themselves and each other. Like famished bodies with only teeth, they mutilate and feast; A morbid pulsating blood tinted slime starts to form where my body used to lay.
A tingle and then sleep from my toes to my ears. The last vision
for my eyes,  shows how everything
    melts and slowly starts to glow, then they are gone too.
A speck of my consciousness screams, as in the hellish heat it evaporates, but
      oh, how warm it feels for everything else.
Oh
     how warm.
My heart, so horridly engulfed in flesh at first yearns to peel off, but then
in not even a  breath,
some last whisper soothes it to bed, and so it
floats in the embryonic lake

Of
       Love
Loco Cocoa Mar 17
Something wasn't sitting right with us...
like a void that never filled.
I was almost oblivious to the pain of
deep cuts that never healed.
A moment of clarity I needed
my conscience to reveal..
Something told me to leave -
I keep my third-eye peeled..
your intuition will rarely steer you wrong. if it isn't right, your heart will feel it and your mind will try to mask it. free your heart, open your mind and

...

unfinished btw
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