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"penetrating" poems
I want to climb inside your body move around in your skin grasp and kiss your body sending shivers deeper than within two bodies joined in unison penetrating heat melt us from the outside in sensual movements you finish twice, before I even begin
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Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Flutter
Body of ocean, milk and sky, We are tangled in the hope of night. The lips of the milky way, creaming us, Stains and is **** with a taste keening; All is creation.  My meteors crash Into your ruptured Earth.  I flame Upon your must and moisted furrows And my toes are locked, rooted in yours. Body of ocean, milk and sky, In the deserts of the day you are true Oasis.  The curves and waft of your sands Seethe and sodden my barren plains, Are erasing all my wandering memories Of an endless sky and now your eyes Are the only stars I know, and your skin; A sheet that holds the heavens shimmering. Body of ocean, milk and sky, Your ******* are the heaving of grasses And wind, loft and laden in the rounded Hills, a hoard of ****** bread, bountiful, Ripe and strange.  Your hair is an endless Savannah, your valleys are gold and honeyed With milk, seared, filled by my penetrating sun. In passion we play; low on earth and deep in sky.
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 2:49 PM UTC
Body of Ocean, Milk and Sky
With an essence of a  sultry indulgence that will entice as often as it excites;        my words seek passage --                        penetrating your psyche,                        as they crawl across your thoughts.                        serenading your mind with                        lustful passages;                        littering your innocence                        with filth --                        saturated in honesty                        dripping with vivid insight;                        conceived through insanity.                        raging with passion.
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Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Seduction
#*Feasting table under a shading tree Swaddling robe that warmly cleans Mirror beautifying while it reflects Sword that pierces yet never rejects Light penetrating the blackest hole Water filling and healing the soul*#
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
The Word of God
The warm whipped cream dripped from her succulent lips thick liquids drips smooth tastebuds sips big long strokes deep penetrating licks sensational vibes capsize our hips riding each other's waves like two crossing ships mesmerized as our two worlds collide and coincide like nature designed us to co-exist we a twist two organisms sharing a gift shifting from the present to the moment relishing in the sensations before they cease to exist
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Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Rough Draft
Inside you is where I want to be, thrusting within the folds of your mind penetrating the sweet softness of your soul, throbbing as I release my love deep within you.                                      Jon York   2019.
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Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 1:49 AM UTC
Deep Within You
It seemed the space between us became torn and Profoundly distanced.................... Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers, Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol.... Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements That delivered penetrating power, cupped around Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour Right now you need that shining knight, that white Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you Know that won't happen for you're already sinking To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling Outwards................
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Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
Wrong place.....wrong time
There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul. And there are corpses, feet made of cold and sticky clay, death is inside the bones, like a barking where there are no dogs, coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere, growing in the damp air like tears of rain. Sometimes I see alone coffins under sail, embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair, with bakers who are as white as angels, and pensive young girls married to notary publics, caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead, the river of dark purple, moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death, filled by the sound of death which is silence. Death arrives among all that sound like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it, comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no finger in it, comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no throat. Nevertheless its steps can be heard and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree. I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see, but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets, of violets that are at home in the earth, because the face of death is green, and the look death gives is green, with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf and the somber color of embittered winter. But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom, lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies, death is inside the broom, the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses, it is the needle of death looking for thread. Death is inside the folding cots: it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses, in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out: it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets, and the beds go sailing toward a port where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
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18.5k
Nothing But Death
There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul. And there are corpses, feet made of cold and sticky clay, death is inside the bones, like a barking where there are no dogs, coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere, growing in the damp air like tears of rain. Sometimes I see alone coffins under sail, embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair, with bakers who are as white as angels, and pensive young girls married to notary publics, caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead, the river of dark purple, moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death, filled by the sound of death which is silence. Death arrives among all that sound like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it, comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no finger in it, comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no throat. Nevertheless its steps can be heard and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree. I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see, but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets, of violets that are at home in the earth, because the face of death is green, and the look death gives is green, with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf and the somber color of embittered winter. But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom, lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies, death is inside the broom, the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses, it is the needle of death looking for thread. Death is inside the folding cots: it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses, in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out: it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets, and the beds go sailing toward a port where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
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48
Feathers glimmer and shine As though covered in fish oil I lubricate the brain As I slip through the sky With a frictionless flicker My lightening wings Brain waves rapidly fluctuate Perfect balance held Between left and right Each wing a hemisphere As they beat and beat Accelerating into hyper speed 80 to a hundred or more Beats per second As though injected With a sonic speed Synapses bursting and exploding Exponentially connecting Blistering wing speed I become electric My circuits exploring Rippling and flickering through paper My brain comes alive Flashing multicolored lights Like the cities nights But still spaces collect around me As I am buffered from the world Perfectly still though standing On an invisible ledge I hold my mind in place While I hum in space Head down I drop my beak Into a funnel of concentration As I tunnel into trumpets Penetrating deep I flower   In new knowledge Polar aspects of mind Released through coherent communication Set free with coordination I seek to marry chalk and cheese As I hold the balance Between two worlds Flashing synapses firing And combusting Against pointed concentration My mind juggles two ***** Expanding into their fullness Expressing vibrant color My slippery slender beak Slips and slides in As I flutter through pages I discover new unexpected surprises Problems solved, Startling adventures And puzzles completed I find the sugary syrup The delicate delicious sweet spot With the thrill of falling domino's Spilling and cascading Many ripples fanning out Through my mind   I find freedom Each ripple massaging my mind I am catapulted into outer space I dance from fact to golden fact   As I am propelled forward on stardust My momentum shoots me forward I bounce and bounce My mind becoming unbounded   I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
HUMMINGBIRD LIBERATING MIND
Feathers glimmer and shine As though covered in fish oil I lubricate the brain As I slip through the sky With a frictionless flicker My lightening wings Brain waves rapidly fluctuate Perfect balance held Between left and right Each wing a hemisphere As they beat and beat Accelerating into hyper speed 80 to a hundred or more Beats per second As though injected With a sonic speed Synapses bursting and exploding Exponentially connecting Blistering wing speed I become electric My circuits exploring Rippling and flickering through paper My brain comes alive Flashing multicolored lights Like the cities nights But still spaces collect around me As I am buffered from the world Perfectly still though standing On an invisible ledge I hold my mind in place While I hum in space Head down I drop my beak Into a funnel of concentration As I tunnel into trumpets Penetrating deep I flower   In new knowledge Polar aspects of mind Released through coherent communication Set free with coordination I seek to marry chalk and cheese As I hold the balance Between two worlds Flashing synapses firing And combusting Against pointed concentration My mind juggles two ***** Expanding into their fullness Expressing vibrant color My slippery slender beak Slips and slides in As I flutter through pages I discover new unexpected surprises Problems solved, Startling adventures And puzzles completed I find the sugary syrup The delicate delicious sweet spot With the thrill of falling domino's Spilling and cascading Many ripples fanning out Through my mind   I find freedom Each ripple massaging my mind I am catapulted into outer space I dance from fact to golden fact   As I am propelled forward on stardust My momentum shoots me forward I bounce and bounce My mind becoming unbounded   I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
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69
I am hungry and it is reflected in the contours of every inch                   of skin every cell a-flutter tiny wings and heartbeats activated within right down to the ribosomes and kidney-shaped mitochondria right up through epidermis woven as threads of softness penetrating your inner hard, dark parts causing them to melt into                 my light I am craving to feel your absolute heart's raging core my aching flesh burning, my heart, wrapped in a love               so pure My need to be devoured surfaces in smoothness, at a glance You feel it acutely, no room for doubt or subtle chance                I am ravenous for muscle-worked arms (arms that could easily try to break) to be supremely gentle as you part my thighs like the ocean and sacredly partake the slickness of your tongue in my feminine grace the stains of my love drenching                 your noble face your eyes on mine as I sharply breathe          need to hold your head stroke your            hair know that for me               the king takes off that garland of gold breaking free of all symbols of status the only real treasure the queen who gives to him, and who he now pleasures      and I let myself be consumed with the reverence of a psalm my love pouring into you healing your hurts,                like a balm in this private landscape we are the most ferocious of tender estuaries in an eternal vista in this hour of somewhere, the sea hauls us in like ancient creatures,      bringing the fossils back to life in lustrous foam as they          inch their way into the spirals     that we feel we could call      home‎
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
Tender Estuaries
I am hungry and it is reflected in the contours of every inch                   of skin every cell a-flutter tiny wings and heartbeats activated within right down to the ribosomes and kidney-shaped mitochondria right up through epidermis woven as threads of softness penetrating your inner hard, dark parts causing them to melt into                 my light I am craving to feel your absolute heart's raging core my aching flesh burning, my heart, wrapped in a love               so pure My need to be devoured surfaces in smoothness, at a glance You feel it acutely, no room for doubt or subtle chance                I am ravenous for muscle-worked arms (arms that could easily try to break) to be supremely gentle as you part my thighs like the ocean and sacredly partake the slickness of your tongue in my feminine grace the stains of my love drenching                 your noble face your eyes on mine as I sharply breathe          need to hold your head stroke your            hair know that for me               the king takes off that garland of gold breaking free of all symbols of status the only real treasure the queen who gives to him, and who he now pleasures      and I let myself be consumed with the reverence of a psalm my love pouring into you healing your hurts,                like a balm in this private landscape we are the most ferocious of tender estuaries in an eternal vista in this hour of somewhere, the sea hauls us in like ancient creatures,      bringing the fossils back to life in lustrous foam as they          inch their way into the spirals     that we feel we could call      home‎
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84
We sit beneath the mango tree You say, “I’ve got to go one day, you see…” I nod and smile for that’s far away… And I know deep down you really want to stay So we talk and learn about our lives Blaze right past all the normal lies I say, “I think I’m gonna miss you some…” You laugh and say, “God, you’re young.” If I’d known then how this was going to go There were more things I would have let you know Like that time we sat under the mango tree And my heart stopped when you first kissed me... While you were packing up your little home I was sitting, waiting by the phone Wondering where I’d gone so wrong Wishing your determinations weren’t so strong… The weeks crawl by and you don’t call I take the frustration out on my bedroom wall We both knew that this had to end But for that short time it was awfully nice to pretend So we meet under the mango tree I stare at you, and you stare back at me You say, “You knew I had to go one day.” I mutter back, “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” Then like a tragedy I left you there Unable to hold your penetrating stare There were more things that we both should’ve said But it seems we took the easy road instead The road whose paths would never have to cross So we’d never have to think about what we have lost But sometimes I still pass that mango tree And remember how you used to look at me, Smile about those shining, sapphire eyes, Marvel at the tree’s growing size, Laugh about the brief time we shared And pack away the memories with care
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Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
The Mango Tree
We sit beneath the mango tree You say, “I’ve got to go one day, you see…” I nod and smile for that’s far away… And I know deep down you really want to stay So we talk and learn about our lives Blaze right past all the normal lies I say, “I think I’m gonna miss you some…” You laugh and say, “God, you’re young.” If I’d known then how this was going to go There were more things I would have let you know Like that time we sat under the mango tree And my heart stopped when you first kissed me... While you were packing up your little home I was sitting, waiting by the phone Wondering where I’d gone so wrong Wishing your determinations weren’t so strong… The weeks crawl by and you don’t call I take the frustration out on my bedroom wall We both knew that this had to end But for that short time it was awfully nice to pretend So we meet under the mango tree I stare at you, and you stare back at me You say, “You knew I had to go one day.” I mutter back, “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” Then like a tragedy I left you there Unable to hold your penetrating stare There were more things that we both should’ve said But it seems we took the easy road instead The road whose paths would never have to cross So we’d never have to think about what we have lost But sometimes I still pass that mango tree And remember how you used to look at me, Smile about those shining, sapphire eyes, Marvel at the tree’s growing size, Laugh about the brief time we shared And pack away the memories with care
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36
You are a flame inside me Flickering, Teasing, Caressing, Smoldering. You are far away Yet so close Teetering on the edge of my imagination. The yearning is the knowing The mere knowledge of you That you are existing somewhere Somewhere my reality can’t touch. My words spill out of me Like candy from a piñata Pages and pages Poems scattered about like hungry pigeons. You make me so hungry So eager to express To spill my inner self onto empty pages. You are my muse My cruel inspiration The tears staining my pillow. I am dancing on a cloud Unnoticed by you As you live your life Unaware of mine. My words are endless My thoughts knowing no bounds As I imagine your eyes Penetrating through me. You are my fantasy My never forever My drug of choice. You are the fuel that keeps me writing, Feeling, Expressing. You are my special light Turning on inside me When all my creativity is turned off. I want to ravish you Bite the buttons off your shirt Loosen your necktie Drown in your eyes without a life jacket. You are my muse crush The smile on my face The pain in my heart The hello that never comes The inevitable goodbye. © 2014 Stacey Handler
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Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:43 AM UTC
Muse Crush
The sun breathing deep,penetrating my lovely clouds ,his horses Running high and with pride taking joy at my wanning mood My skin denies the clothes over it Rejecting the sweltering walls Adding me with more sweat Was there any worse day? Inside my temporal erupts atomic volcanoes fueled with solar fission My legs hang over walls of ponds How lucky are the frogs under mud With involuntary scratches on my hair I look around for my baby clouds The only drops that gather is my own As I patiently wait for wind to drop some leaves Patience might be the only virtue against the dry spell of the sun in the middle of monsoon That seem to burst prior clouds Trees hang their branches patiently Crows crowing, now tired of thirst Not a single ant comes on my way The ever growling dog sits irritated but quietly against the fly I can tell of every thoughts around But who is there to answer Will this day come to end or shall the world end for it
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
Monsoon Madness
When I look at you I want to touch Sends my imagination into a Spiritual crush I'm more than a dream my words make me real When I come inside..you will feel Passionate fingers touching every part From top to bottom..Now let me start Lay on your back my exploration goes deep Passion so hot you can feel the heat Legs up in the air if you dare Exposed to me without a care Tell me which way you want me to go? I can do more than fast and slow Lost in the motion of your thighs Mounting your body I look in your eyes Locked in a gaze penetrating your soul Start with a rhythm then out of control Ravishing writhing feeling every delight Mercilessly pounding while your bottom lip I bite Plundering your treasure in every single measure Reaping rewards of ultimate pleasure My Fairy tale Queen wicked with lust Eating your pie along with the crust Like royalty we lay satisfied from our feast Successfully taming our inner ****** beast My words of fantasy has you feeling this touch Poetic kisses for the lips of my Spiritual Crush..
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Spiritual Crush
I’d like to be away In a world far away But that won’t escape The world inside my brain I’d like to stop the time Live frozen between the lines But that won’t bring me closer To a picture perfect moment That you and I never had I want to live on your wavelength Travel with you At the speed of light Penetrating Any barrier And travel parallel To your sweet and endless path I want to tell you that I love you Have the courage To make you mine Too bad I lost the fight That was going Inside my mind I’m endlessly falling For someone like you But I’ll gladly fall forever If the destination leads to you I think of you every night And wonder where you are Do think of me the same way? Do you have the same thoughts? I’m sure one day I’ll meet you The moment won’t be perfect But perfection is overrated I’d rather meet you In any way As long as it leads me To your mellow heart My sweet nebula Travel to me As fast as you can I’d do the same thing If I wasn’t stuck behind But I’m moving on You’re my motivation Even if met you I have not
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
Nebula
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter invisibly dying from the inside out no one is looking into unseen eyes no one can hear a muted voice fading no one is close enough to be near the deafening thrums echo anxieties’ racing heartbeat within morphing flesh shell , gasping for new breath in a hovering stale silence from a distance the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ; much closer the reflection reveals someone I once knew by heart now an unrecognizable mask enshrouds a terminal emptiness inconspicuous at a fleeting glance , impossible to discern what storms rage from the inside out ,... unnoticed   an uncontained wildfire smoldering within,  lies in wait for the imminent winds of change to fan the flames into the final eternal silent ashes a poet reaches out demurely offering a candid look into the window of the imperfect human soul there is no poetry met by indifference just gathered unread words scribbled, squandered time dripped slowly on an empty page ; moments turn into days days turned into years invisibly dying from the inside out an unfinished life trickles out like seeping blood evanescing from a bottomless puncture wounding ... penetrating the heart, leaching out the slow death of a poet for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ... befallen to indifference is poetic death by salted paper cuts ... a muting suffocation that hiddenly erodes away, silencing the passion of a musing soul one unread word at a time ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
The Slow Death of a Poet
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter invisibly dying from the inside out no one is looking into unseen eyes no one can hear a muted voice fading no one is close enough to be near the deafening thrums echo anxieties’ racing heartbeat within morphing flesh shell , gasping for new breath in a hovering stale silence from a distance the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ; much closer the reflection reveals someone I once knew by heart now an unrecognizable mask enshrouds a terminal emptiness inconspicuous at a fleeting glance , impossible to discern what storms rage from the inside out ,... unnoticed   an uncontained wildfire smoldering within,  lies in wait for the imminent winds of change to fan the flames into the final eternal silent ashes a poet reaches out demurely offering a candid look into the window of the imperfect human soul there is no poetry met by indifference just gathered unread words scribbled, squandered time dripped slowly on an empty page ; moments turn into days days turned into years invisibly dying from the inside out an unfinished life trickles out like seeping blood evanescing from a bottomless puncture wounding ... penetrating the heart, leaching out the slow death of a poet for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ... befallen to indifference is poetic death by salted paper cuts ... a muting suffocation that hiddenly erodes away, silencing the passion of a musing soul one unread word at a time ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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50
A white bird flying at day Or a black bird flying at night Or a black bird flying at day Or a white bird flying at night Black and white, black over white  Oh,my Lord, how painful can be  This need of touch in his absence White and black, white over black Oh,my Lord, how painful can be  This absence of his touch Black penetrating white And white penetrating black Never finding the gray.
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 10:46 AM UTC
Black and white
It's as if a storm blew in, torrential rains, metal bending winds and standing in the eye was you. Waves crashing. People locked up for days, hours, as time danced around -- the clocked stopped ticking. A foolish venture to see the cause of such array. To see. To touch. To feel. Your sight penetrating through the clouds, ripping apart my seams. You watch as I came undone; undone by the velvet in your eyes, the bend in your smile. I twirl as I am stripped clean in your eyes. You see every scrape, scar, bruise and every moment I have tried to sew back together. Your touch burns my flesh. Sear into me a moment I cannot forget, a moment I grasp for in the darkness when I am all alone. It's as if I can feel your fingerprint on my heart with every beat. As I stumble towards you, exposed and raw --- you absorb me. Absorb my pain, struggles, my darkness. You hold me so tightly it's as if when you breathe, I breathe the same breath. Your embrace calms the storm. Calms the rush of thoughts, fears, worries and emotions. As I look up into your eyes, you see my future. My happiness. My vision of happily ever after -- holding hands in the sunset, in the rain, in the snow. As the winds die down, as the rain lets up, as the oceans settle -- I see you clearly. I feel your heartbeat. I know I am right where I should be. The eye of you.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
Eye
You drag me in past the point of personal boundaries Hands like hot plates welded to my waist Eyes undress me with a penetrating stare exposing me to everybody Your kind lurk everywhere I struggle away from potent, *** ridden breath that invades my air space I try to breathe in some respect from anybody, anywhere?!
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Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
violated
#*Morning falls from a budding    cherry tree;    the colour of nightsong’s waning blossom    comes to be        an echo    only heard    by the wind Soundless remnants    of an intimate twilight odyssey    tarry thickly, drifting lightly through the landscape       of dawn    The hushed echo    wields the silent          reverie       of the night,    gently rippling    the rivers that run    through the heart The poignant taste of passionfruit lingers in the sensory traces       of a warm    passing breeze;       penetrating    the lonely chill    of a naked night's       work of art                 ~            Jesse*#
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
A poignant taste of passionfruit
An odor has remained among the sugarcane: a mixture of blood and body, a penetrating petal that brings nausea. Between the coconut palms the graves are full of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles. The delicate dictator is talking with top hats, gold braid, and collars. The tiny palace gleams like a watch and the rapid laughs with gloves on cross the corridors at times and join the dead voices and the blue mouths freshly buried. The weeping cannot be seen, like a plant whose seeds fall endlessly on the earth, whose large blind leaves grow even without light. Hatred has grown scale on scale, blow on blow, in the ghastly water of the swamp, with a snout full of ooze and silence
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8.8k
The Dictators
Malice ripples lying low, under penetrating nightlife strobe. Repercussions? None to show. Limp bodies 'getting loose' In truth, injected with poison; a slow-acting noose. Repulsive actions of the vile & depraved **** endorsed at raves.
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Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 4:56 AM UTC
Spiked
Craving your luscious lips right next to mine. Reminiscing the moment when we experienced Cloud Nine. It began with a French kiss, then biting your hard ******* That further progressed to smacking your buttocks, creating small ripples.    As our clothes depart, we escalated the ****** tension with every touch we had marked. Passion so intense, penetrating ever so deep; We grasped the feeling of ecstasy till that moment when we couldn’t breathe. Experiencing love and bliss that felt like an eternity…    How fortunate were we to experience the alignment of our souls unbound. Till the moment we parted ways, leaving memorable traces so profound.    By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Reminiscing Love
I remember our garden, Wild and beautiful. Flowers snaked out over cracked paths, Overgrown orchids and unruly dahlias Crossed calla lilies, As they protruded through the jungle Of luscious foliage. I remember the smell of jasmine. It hung heavy in the thick summer air, Heady and delicious. It was the sweetest Intoxication and my Mother basked in it. She would sit for hours under The old mango tree, cigarette Smoke coiling around her As she watched the sun steadily Disappear behind grey islands. I longed to reach out to her. To break her trance, And infiltrate her thoughts. I wanted to her to take me with her Into those private moments. I didn’t understand it then. I remember the tune she would hum. Those long, low notes, penetrating From her soul. As I put the silverware away, I hum it. I hum it in memory of my indigo life, Turned magnolia. How I long for that mango tree now, A hundred years old. His strong Arms stretched around me, And my own private moments. Through the double-glazed windows, I watch my husband gardening And wonder. Should I bring him a glass of Ice-cold lemonade, like The wives on American TV?
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Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 3:02 PM UTC
The Old Mango Tree.
You see me as the bacteria And yourself as the antibiotic I see you across the cafeteria Acting psychotic Because of what I find ****** You treat me like I'm toxic But you're seen as normal So I hide beneath the coral To avoid your aggression That will teach me a lesson About correctly guessing Where your fists will go next You tell me I want it like *** This is your way to flex To show you have an edge You single out the marginalized There's no way you'll hedge When you have harm in your eyes And then use charm as a disguise To make me cry over spilt milk Because I am not of your ilk For I am as soft as silk Like the sheets I want to roll in with you Instead you shoved my face into poo As my ***** grew I think of killing myself With my gun When I think of filling myself With your *** While pretending I'm your son And swallowing you like gum Those are my ideas of fun Yours is to tell me to run From your intensely penetrating fists That make me regret my penetrating wish As you brandish the weapon From the movie Inception That launches you into my dreams Giving my thoughts a singular theme As my mouth continually screams I was born on the wrong team You wanted to exhibit your power In this seemingly arbitrary hour So you broke my nose To show off for your hoes An off the cuff Attempt to be tough But I found it deeply affecting When I could feel your hatred injecting Making me wonder if I'd ever be free After I saw the only ending I could see You move to strike me again This time I have my mac 10 That I brought to school For a one sided duel You changed the trajectory of my life By changing the trajectory of my bullets You taught me about strife You taught me how power is the coolest You taught me to move on to your friends Their lives I must remember to end This is the message I'm choosing to send When they sat back and watched the hate Like it was 1938 I lost my sympathy After being treated differently And gained a ruthless anger That turned me into a stranger So I let the automatic gun spray Faster than they could pray For their hoots and hollers I shoot their collars Creating shade in the halls That I make when they fall The feeling goes to my ***** I become strangely intoxicated By the death of those who hated So I go back to your dead body And do what you felt was so naughty And now there is no one even around for you to tell That I ****** your corpse while you watched from Hell
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Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 12:18 AM UTC
Psychotic
You see me as the bacteria And yourself as the antibiotic I see you across the cafeteria Acting psychotic Because of what I find ****** You treat me like I'm toxic But you're seen as normal So I hide beneath the coral To avoid your aggression That will teach me a lesson About correctly guessing Where your fists will go next You tell me I want it like *** This is your way to flex To show you have an edge You single out the marginalized There's no way you'll hedge When you have harm in your eyes And then use charm as a disguise To make me cry over spilt milk Because I am not of your ilk For I am as soft as silk Like the sheets I want to roll in with you Instead you shoved my face into poo As my ***** grew I think of killing myself With my gun When I think of filling myself With your *** While pretending I'm your son And swallowing you like gum Those are my ideas of fun Yours is to tell me to run From your intensely penetrating fists That make me regret my penetrating wish As you brandish the weapon From the movie Inception That launches you into my dreams Giving my thoughts a singular theme As my mouth continually screams I was born on the wrong team You wanted to exhibit your power In this seemingly arbitrary hour So you broke my nose To show off for your hoes An off the cuff Attempt to be tough But I found it deeply affecting When I could feel your hatred injecting Making me wonder if I'd ever be free After I saw the only ending I could see You move to strike me again This time I have my mac 10 That I brought to school For a one sided duel You changed the trajectory of my life By changing the trajectory of my bullets You taught me about strife You taught me how power is the coolest You taught me to move on to your friends Their lives I must remember to end This is the message I'm choosing to send When they sat back and watched the hate Like it was 1938 I lost my sympathy After being treated differently And gained a ruthless anger That turned me into a stranger So I let the automatic gun spray Faster than they could pray For their hoots and hollers I shoot their collars Creating shade in the halls That I make when they fall The feeling goes to my ***** I become strangely intoxicated By the death of those who hated So I go back to your dead body And do what you felt was so naughty And now there is no one even around for you to tell That I ****** your corpse while you watched from Hell
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