"perk" poems
I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.
for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?
the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.
no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.
so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.
hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.
instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son
I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
If you give a girl a with a big heart your broken pieces,
she will gently pick them up and carry them in her soft hands,
and pay no mind to your sharp edges.
She will try to glue you back together
and she’ll do it in a way that made you forget you were ever broken.
With scratched finger tips and ****** palms,
she’ll lift you up to the sun,
letting it's blinding rays shine through you
to show you that even the worst things have things to love in them
and that even the shattered can again be whole.
If you give a girl with a big heart your body,
she will study you like an archaic God.
She will learn your curves and surfaces like braille,
she will adjust her hearing to the pitch of your laughter
so that no matter how far apart you become,
her ears will perk up like a dog's when you giggle,
and she will smile, knowing that you smile.
If you give a girl with a big heart your time,
she will make each second feel like infinity,
and each sunset like the end of the world.
You'll forget that the universe is as vast and wondrous as it is,
because you will be so captivated by the light that she emits
right where she sits,
by your side.
And if you take from a girl with a big heart,
please,
for the love of God,
do not take it all.
If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember that her love is not a renewable resource.
The wind and the sun and the water will forever be there to serve you but
she will run dry, and become another fact of history that will one day be forgotten.
If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember how sharp your edges were before her,
how lifeless your body was before she touched it,
and how meaningless time was before she made it into something magical.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
I can't unlove because I am
Impatient, selfish.
I love as if I cannot be hurt.
Going on as if nothing is wrong.
I cannot unlove because I know not how.
I spend my nights awake dreaming of how everything should have been.
The speeches I have amongst myself
Lost in complete darkness.
Accepting the sound of my voice as an I told you so.
Seeking a dream that seems so far away.
I can't unlove because I accept disappointment.
The contempt of putting others first without fear.
I truly believe I cannot unlove because I am in love.
Young again in thought running wild, free.
I consider it a perk.
Being the only other person I know how to be.
No longer embarrassed of facing the opposite end of the mirror.
Finding that the most important things bring the most smiles.
I am far from perfect
But I cannot unlove as if I made some sort of mistake.
Purposely mistaking myself as a fool
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 7:23 PM UTC
The time was early or late - to us it's all the same/Our minds, a phone, two lovers alone and playing a lover's game.
We had made a promise not to speak or write those special words/Instead we chose to circle around them like a pair of lonesome birds.
Beyond all expectations we stayed true to our oath/Though in more ways than one it was torture to us both.
The day of our meeting was the date we had chosen/To express our emotions and melt lips long frozen.
But Life intervened and our plans were broken/Our love, it seemed, was not meant to be spoken.
Yet still a call was made and the reason why was clear/My patience had run out weeks ago and I simply longed to hear.
The melody of your voice and the thoughts in your head/And the rhythm of your breathing as you lay in your bed.
It isn't long before we start to speak of our vow/Though every fiber of my being begs to say it now.
Then a catch in your voice makes my ears perk up with glee/Could you desire to be first to say them to me?
Somewhere a clock chimes loudly four times/While criminals are out committing their crimes.
You become one of them as The Words leave your mouth/My love is now yours to take - North, East, West, and South.
I'll change and grow but there is one thing I'll always do/And it's whatever it takes to hear you say "I Love You."
For Jénay - My soulmate
I love you honeybee
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
I think about you.
I think about you hard.
I didn't like your attitude;
it left my image of you marred.
You were immature,
sometimes a nasty ****
But there’s a thought about you
that’s a real perk:
It might be naughty,
it might be sick,
but I find my thoughts turn pleasant
when I think about your ****
You annoyed me day and night,
and drove me a bit crazy.
There are some things that I remember
that I wish were hazy.
Your voice was whiny,
your habits loathsome.
You smoked and stayed up late;
I'd wish that I was lonesome.
Except for that bit about you--
the key that fit my lock--
it’s what I miss about you.
My dear, it’s just your ****
You talked too much.
You weren’t very bright.
I pretended I was listening
as you rambled on all night.
You didn’t pay the bills.
I mostly cooked the food.
Our stupid arguments
left me in a foul mood.
But even when my thoughts
about you were at their meanest,
I somehow changed my view
when I thought about your *****
There’s no way to separate
you from your biggest asset.
So though you looked like trouble,
in every single facet,
I tolerated much--
more than I’d like to remember--
because of my strange attraction
to your firm and friendly member.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
everyday i find myself here
sitting in a bar stool drinking another beer
it's already been half a year
with my memory of each day not always clear
and yet i quaff and i quaff
with no ability to turn it off
then i stumble back into work
telling myself this is only a perk
just a little quirk
to get me through work
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Oh, I have never looked so good
running in armor thru the woods
Adept with blade or mace
And I know a little magic
which for foes is rather tragic
(it’s a perk for my race)
Be it mountain peak or ocean swell
thru rocky hill and grassy dell
nothing slows my pace
Many Quests I need to finish
there’s Evil I must diminish
(And weapons to replace)
Every belonging I have owned
I have bartered, won or stole
Hording gold just in case
I’m constantly slashed, bashed and burned
by dragons, wildlife and Curs
with no fear on my face
Though I have skills that get me by
There are occasions that I’ve died
Thank god for the last “save”
I will keep right on playing
leveling buy quests and slaying
in my CGI escape
January 2012
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 3:18 AM UTC
I could turn away,
But then id have to pay,
My happiness may be the price,
But when it comes to that i think ill roll the dice.
Lets give it a chance,
And maybe just survive this crazy little dance.
Cause the smile spread wide across my face,
Well maybe you cant tell,
But hunny, i dont want my space.
It may be a secret, nobody can know,
But the day will come when that wont even show.
Yeah it *****
But oh well, lifes just tough.
Sneaking around will never be easy,
But baby when you kiss me, i get queezy.
I like you alot,
And as far as what i want,
Your right on the dot.
Isaac i want this to work,
Hey!who knows? Maybe secrecy will turn out to be a perk
By: Kaity Morris
March 2,2012
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
I heard you were going away
On a one week holiday
This makes me sad for sure
You are the one I adore
Its only a week I know
The time, how fast will it flow?
My hope is quite quickly
Without you I get a bit prickly
Its no secret I am into you
So remember, without you I'm blue
Your sweet words I'll miss
But mostly your kiss
While you are away, I'll catch up on books and work
I guess that will be a perk
Not wanting to seem unsteady
But I miss you already
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:12 PM UTC
I think I'm going blind.
I'm under the impression you've disappeared.
That you're gone for good.
That you've eliminated yourself from my retinas in order to escape my mile wide stare.
That you've constructed homes under tombstones hoping I'd mistake you for
A box of under-appreciated skeletal remains
Because all you've ever wanted is to be dead to me.
Like you wanted my eyes to forget about their day job and resort to conceptualized adultery
Because God forbid I commit to an honest day's pay.
I've never intentionally visualized imaginary fabrications.
But the truth is, my eyes do everything but tell the truth.
1. My eyes write monotonous picture books with your face plastered on every single page
Just to recreate your physical beauty time and time again
So the world knows your look tops my mind's best seller list.
2. My eyes climb mountain tops and skinny dip in stormy seas
Because sometimes crazy is the only way I can get you to look at me.
3. My eyes fly hot air balloons carried by the echoes of your soft spoken sentences
As if exhaust pipes could spew such sweet nothings into the night sky.
4. My eyes invade foreign lands with every intention of burning down
Prehistoric villages and discovering your secret hideaway because I too
Want to know how it feels to savagely destroy former sacred territory.
5. My eyes struggle out of bed every morning. Not even
Three shots of espresso can perk my eyes up enough
To allow the radiation you still give off enter my pores.
I think I'm going blind.
Or maybe I just can't see straight.
Or be straight up with you and tell you how it takes every part of me
To not gauge my own eyes out for betraying the rest of my body.
It takes every part of me to admit my misjudgments spawned the downfall of it all.
Because I told you I saw the two of us trekking through unfamiliar lands
With each stride another step towards our destiny.
Because I told you I saw something in your eyes
That gave mine the ability to smile.
Because I told you I saw us redefining what infinity
Looks like to the senseless visionary.
But my eyes don't tell the truth.
I'm going blind.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
Okay... see... I really like this girl and I've liked her for a while. She's a silly type of girl that would go the extra mile for any guy that might want *** from the forest to the tile. They might seem as sweet as can be, but they turn out to be vile. There's this one stupid guy who's only nice perk was his smile. He got her pregnant last year and she's about to have a child. I guess this was bound to happen, cause she's that type of wild that would get married at 18 and then immediately file for divorce in the courts, of course this would happen. While I'm studying the art of pickup, she gets sitting on his lap and then he might decide to stick his **** up and start clappin, cause I was never able to man up and I was too scared to tap in. I guess my major hiccup was my constant state of rapping. Where has poetry ever even gotten me. Just a hobby while I'm stuck in this secluded monotony. I just hope one day I can say someone spotted me. In the meantime I'll be a lonely poet in the club of 'Forgotten Thee'.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
I'm not the first, or the last, to admit this
but those days
those wonderful days when you can run out of a pizza place past midnight and drive
standing up, top down in a convertible jeep around the back roads of a small town
with music so loud that no one can hear you cry
with wind blowing your tears back behind you
so you don't have to worry about getting them on your clothes
holding your arms out
like they do in Titanic
Perk of Being a Wallflower
Superman
but you don't feel the joy that they do
you don't feel what everyone else does
you cry and feel broken
because your mind is a cruel place
and your worst memories and fears come up when you should be having the most fun
so you stand up
constantly watching
to make sure that these empty streets really are empty
constantly hoping that the credits dont roll yet, because you have so much more to do
and you keep your hands to yourself
because you can't let your sorrow spread to the others
once again the tears in your eyes are from the empty hours of another sleepless night
for another night you keep your hands to yourself
afraid to reach out
four heartbeats and a loud engine
all drowned out by a summer night being lived in a horrible way
standing up, top down in a convertible jeep around the back roads of a small town
and doing your best not to jump out and cry
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
I love this
I get to lay here
In this smoky basement
And be next to your body
Incents burning in the darkness
And the pull out bed is darned with
Peacock blankets and worn green pillows
And your ******* are perk in the light of a cigarette
These rock walls and pillars aren't enough
To trap the both of us
Because within this room, we are invisible
And around you
I am invincible
We stare through the black at each other
Eyes in protest of the caliginous space around us
And we see the warmth of acceptance in the air
I can run these fingers along the smooth landscape of your skin
And my tongue can skim slowly over you with a longing
And my lips can caress yours with a delicious spark of heat
Inciting the shudders throughout your body to take you
These shadows around us can't understand
Because in their two dimensional forms
They will never caress your curves
Or grasp the emotions needed to care about you
So the darkness doesn't bother me
I just need the quick paced breaths from you
The fingers digging into my skin
The lips and the tongues
The dips and the rises
And the realization that this is more
Than *** at my house
Pull your hair away from your eyes to look at me
See the outline of my face
The silhouette eclipsing the moon light from the window
And the sweat on my brow
Shining little droplets of "I want"
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
Don't get me wrong,
the mushy- gushy, shy tender first moments of love are important.
But too many people have spent their lives writing about it.
Comparing the beginning of love to:
budding flowers,
sunrise,
summer,
the list goes on and on.
I say this not to be critical, as I too have spent hours writing about first encounters, and awkward yet tender first kisses and the beginning of love stories.
But I will spare you another poem about the honeymoon phase.
Society teaches us that "love" is always romantic and it's not real if it doesn't look and feel like a Nicholas Sparks novel.
If we aren't feeling butterflies and being swept off our feet, then it isn't worth our time.
Or, that our partner is wrong for us, if these attributes should fade over time.
However, I have learned that society's version of love, is the version that sells, it's embellished to attract the masses.
At the end of the day sometimes all love is,
someone who checks up on you,
someone who asks about your day and is genuinely interested.
It's the person who has your back through thick and thin,
who would never abandon you because they are angry or disappointed in you.
It's time we as a society look a bit deeper than the surface of such a complex emotion and understand that love isn't always about blushing and stealing kisses in the dark.
It's also about having a hand to hold, when you feel like it's you against the world.
It's time we let the honeymoon phase become a perk, but not the definition of love.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
He was one of those guys who marry money.
And you can grok that in any sense you desire.
But be forewarned, my friend,
I am well-versed in a multitude of
Marry-For-Money manifestations.
Take, for example, marrying the Boss' daughter.
Come with me, for illustration's sake,
Join me in one such dis-functional household:
George & Martha's place on campus--
A classic Tudor-revival home,
Ivied & plushly-appointed,
A coveted faculty perk
Which goes along with the gig.
And the gag, for that matter.
I speak, of course, of Edward Albee's
Two perversely miserable humans,
Married to each other, to wit:
George & Martha, leading lives of
Pubis-scratching desperation, in
"Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"
She's the only daughter--
Daddy's precious jewel--
Only girl-child of the President
Of a small, rural college.
He's the middle-aged professor
With no great pedagogic or research prowess.
His working-class perspective,
Viewing the quiet academic life to be
A significant step up in genteel existence.
Except--and there's the rub:
Mere existence is a far cry from
Living the good life Dan Draper &
The rest of Satan's Mad Men minions
Taught him to take for granted.
So George & Martha,
In terms of core values,
Have little in common;
More like opposites, in fact:
His starvation diet as a child &
Her helping out Mom at the
Food Bank on Saturday mornings.
It's those formative razzmatazz years,
He lacked the behavior blueprint,
The overwhelming fatigue of acting.
He's perpetually memorizing lines,
Practicing ****** expressions &
Physical gestures & phrases.
Guard up, another Oscar-worthy performance,
Burton is superb & Elizabeth Taylor
Showing us precisely why she is &
Will continue to be revered as an actress.
George knows she has his number.
The thing about the play is the
Intense malice the couple feel for each other.
For the audience, an experience in stage drama
Best classified as an intensely painful morality play.
A good thing to remember: Live Theater
Adds value to a community.
Give generously, please!
But I digress.
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
From beyond the clouds and stars,
For a voiceless clear call, I perk my ears.
The foam, froth and the very crux
An orchestra of a trillion pieces the universe,
You, me and the spirit binding it all,
Resonate to the pulses of an unflinching light.
Everything that is seen or invisible,
With all that are known or not at all,
Are tightly woven together as one!
Any awareness otherwise, a mere fallacy,
Let go, come be one with the pure essence!
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
Here in dense darkness, alone I sit,
and crave for the caressing rays
of thy gentle light, nowhere near.
Out side the balcony netted to
keep the deviant doves away
the city of million lights speaks
in a jumble of numerous sounds.
like my heavy heart, the overcast sky
is a silent observer, holding light back.
The silence within me kept deepening,
every little light in this city night has
a story to tell, I perk up my ears to hear.
Every skyscraper silently exchange
encrypted message of light of many kind,
to one another, written on darkness.
"I don't trust the night,
she is a cheat" says one
The other replies, "Oh! the night
her luxurious dark hair heals"
Within the discordant sounds
what light etch on the night air has
love and hate, sin and redemption.
Neon pauses create a rhythm,
the musical river flows on.
Sitting here inside the cocoon,
I did spin myself and inhabit,
I think I see you there in the distant
blue light, which you yourself embraced
Will you be ever dreaming about my lonely plight,
when you dive deeper in to your dark night?
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
Your glass eyes shatter my innocence,
As you peer behind their masked acceptance.
Turning your back,
on my over-exposed, leaking speech.
Comparing your hazy, lustful embraces
to my inescapable desperate moans.
You perk up upon your pedestal,
Finding pride within your superior lower number,
Shaking your head in shame,
as the unnamed masses
Flash through your condescending imagination.
Well, a pat on the back for you.
And how about a high-5 too?
After all, i'm just a prettier version,
of a back laying ****
Spread open to be invaded and wrung dry,
Then tossed to the side-
after a breathtaking ride,
Too vulnerable to hide.
And now too ugly for your eyes.
I really am sorry,
I should have just lied.
Nov 20, 2010
Nov 20, 2010 at 10:21 AM UTC
I think my cat's a drug addict,
but it's difficult to know.
It could be a problem with *******
by the way he bats at snow.
I've already considered amphetamines
seeing the way his ear's perk;
though maybe its caffeine withdrawal,
some days he's such a ****
He could be hooked on ecstasy,
his pupils often grow wide.
Sometimes I suspect he's dropping acid
since he just stares outside.
It's possible he's smoking ***
he's always in a haze.
Maybe he's popping too many pills,
as sleep takes up most days.
My cat could be on ketamine
and eating magic shrooms.
It explains his invisible friends at night
that he chases from room to room.
He could be 'Chasing The Dragon'
like he chases his tail or ball;
Or **** or hash, or bath salts,
hell, he's probably on them all!
I should do something about it soon,
he's becoming very dramatic.
Tomorrow I'll check him into rehab,
because I think my cat's an addict.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
"good luck," they think it means.
brides, grooms, hell, even the kids in the club.
and the notion that the phrase comes with the
shattering of glass under a custom print napkin--
just wrong.
it's important to be mindful of what mazel tov means in
that moment, sure, but it's also
important to be mindful of what mazel tov
means in the everyday. the ritual.
see, mazel tov means "what good fortune."
and I know, I know, sounds pretty
**** close to "good luck."
but think about the glass.
all these tiny pieces to pick up
and you say, "good luck."
have fun picking up the shards.
don't cut your finger.
saying "good luck" in that moment
makes you an *** but "what good fortune"
sounds like you got something up your sleeve.
and you should. in this life, always. always
a few tricks. you know when I was little,
my mother asked me what I wanted to be
when I grew up and I told her, I said,
"I want to be a magician."
her response, "you can't do both."
she's right. that's no profession for an adult,
but you can be an adult and a
magician on the side, as a hobby,
that's alright.
wait.
what was I talking about?
magicians, magicians, oh. tricks.
how else are you going to get by?
mazel tov is a mind trick.
see, we say "what good fortune"
when the glass breaks to reframe the
situation. what's your reaction
to that sound? your ears perk up--
if ears can actually do that, I don't know--
the hairs on your neck stand up.
I guess they can't really stand in the conventional
sense, but, well, you feel the space of a room.
and after that beautiful sound, and I mean beautiful,
you are forced to take everything else into account.
you don't want anything else to break. what matters most,
you know? that's why we say "what good fortune."
I'm delighted to know something as worthless
as glass has broken. because now I'm more
careful with what's valuable to me. right?
you spill soda on a cloth seat in your new car.
mazel tov.
now you don't have to be paranoid
every time your nephew climbs in with an Icee.
it's material crap. just crap. you're alive.
you've got a car. be thankful for what you have.
reframe, you know?
your girlfriend, your wife leaves you for a
former high school quarterback turned
owner of a lawn service company.
another casualty of the sweaty, lemonade-fueled fantasy.
once again, mazel tov.
you are so lucky you didn't spend the rest
of your life with her. the glass shattered.
it's a beautiful sound.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
You're so dangerous with your profane paraphernalia
Your pelvis postures pandering favor
The line of your stomach embossed by the fire is like a pasture for me
So paranoid with your pacifistic lust
As you proceed to please me with your posture so slightly
And I attempt to pursue oh so politely
You make me perk up like a peacock just with one peak
You're aware of every petty palpitation you can feel just under my sleeve
You play me like a piano, so plush with your lust politics
Pandering for a pardon of my ***** talk poignancy
I part you like Pluto from your orbits serene hum
I'll pleasure you, pleasure you until you're purple like a plum
A pastimes poetises to be written with pleasing lead
You plan every move like a predator in my bed
You're polarizing, plump, and pampered like a pageant doll
Pilfering every plausible pause with a pose of voice, your moan
Seizing the post with your post - modern pompous pouncing
Prompted like Pisces to postulate your prognosis
Lifting your posterior like the pun of a phaliccy
Pillaging me like a pandemic, a plague
Something to be paraded by paganistic plauds
Your pale skin is like playwear for sins
You're pinning me plastered with the play of your grin
Such a pretty motion picture to paint in the prison of your promise
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Gather round
Perk up your ears
And I will tell you a story
I will kidnap your soul
Enslave your senses
My voice shall keep you rooted to your seat
And yet take you far away
To the highest tower of the darkest castle
Five stars right of neverland
Where dragons wait in golden caves
And knights with magic swords come to slay them
Gather round, gather round and hear the tale
Let my voice fill the sails
Of the ship that sets sail
For fantasia, far fantasia
Where prismacolor skies hang
Above the island hideaways of pirates
And the air will fill your lungs with fire
Fly away with me on the leather wings of a mighty wyvern
To the halls of Morpheus
Where dreams to shift and change and form
Where light and air and all things do bow to the king of stories
Come with me on a journey beyond the veil of time
To the place where they catch stars in silvery nets
And keep them in little jars to light the way
Gather round every one, as we begin our journey with a single step
A step called
Once upon a time…
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
You know, sometimes it really ****** me off how completely infatuated with you I am. I try so **** hard to be the quintessentially cool, calm, and collected one.
Act like I don't immediately perk up and look around every single time I think I hear you walking my way. Like I don't check my phone regularly just in case I received some communication from you and missed it by chance. As if I don't await the moment my eyes get to settle upon your face, I get to wrap my arms around you, and press my lips to yours. Like hearing your voice isn't what starts my world spinning again when it's all stopped and also slows it down when I'm racing too fast and facing an imminent crash.
But sometimes, every so often, I wish I could back up, pull away, distance myself even just the tiniest bit. That way when the casualest insult unfurls itself from your tongue, crawls between your teeth, and crosses those perfect lips of yours, I don't feel like the wind coming off your words knocks me over with such ferocity.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
have you ever tasted cherries on warm summer nights?
the cherries that sparkle when you bite,
that drip down your lips
melting with the slick of your tongue.
cherries,
high up the trees, unattainable, beautiful.
cherries
that for a moment relieve you of your deityless existence.
I ,too , have met someone
unattainable, beautiful, high up in the trees
a dancer
with subtle glances at her own posture
as she pursues her lip
and tips her feet forward
as she moves to the beat
of life
her breath tucked in
making sure that every muscle is
attentive
her nerves singing and
her gaze
oh the gaze of someone of lustrous
cherries
held tightly to yours never letting go
oh those twisted violets
like the deepest of blue
waters
unattainable far away
in a distant land the darks of
iceland
the rocks that perk up high mountains
that rise up to the skies and tell you
no
the stormy winter nights that hodl tightly on
and never let go and
her that sits barely glancing your way as you conjure up memories and
imaginations of her of stormy days
of the clouds that waver over your face
that do not let you go.
She is all that she is intense.
She is mystical
out of this world
not one to know not one to be whispered to, beauty she is.
aphrodites daughter.
Even if she is unknown to you
the world knows of her. For she screams
she screams and is grabbed the attention of
7 billion. she is
a haunting memory.
The touch of a spell that binds you into
horror filled
trenchuous nightmares.
And when He
holds her it crushes your very being
you cannot breathe cannot see cannot be
you are all hers
you are devoted
you have become the very essence of Her
You cannot seem to look away.
She exists ingrained into your eyes
as you close them
in your dreams enchanted
into your heart
she is the mystical of the world
the fairy tales told by generations
of generations,
my love.
whom i devote so strongly to
whos cherry picked stares
fumble up into a
no.
I am a meer mortal in her presence
not one able to make her smile
trying to get an ounce of her attention
of her anything,
her everything
Please be mine
please be mine
please be mine
you chant
But you know He is there.
The **** the wilderness wolf, cheating abyss. He has done her wrong but
she does not see her as she dances the gentle way she moves
black swan
blue dozens
the galaxies
containing the answers we have seeked
she does not look at you
you are invisible
but
He does not see Her for who she is
a painting
a beauty
out of this world
she is not mine.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
Hornier and hornier all the time,
I'm lucky horniness isn't a crime.
Checkin' out the new girl at work,
She probably thinks I'm such a ****
Trying to think of something to say,
Anything to get a lay.
I offer to take her out to eat,
Someplace quiet, where the people meet.
Later we can go out and dance,
Thinking how to get in her pants.
I take her out and ply her with liquor,
It's true what they say, it really is quicker.
I start making conversation, casual and trite,
I start thinking, this is going to be a long night.
Hoping that something will relieve my gloom,
She suddenly suggests 'Let's get a room.'
We get inside and my mind does a flip,
We are all over each other as we start to strip.
We ****** each other and start to kiss,
My **** is hard, I'm in a state of bliss.
My ***** points north as my hand reaches south,
She takes my member and puts it in her mouth.
My hand working her over we continue to pet,
I know it is working, she becomes quite wet.
I pull out of her mouth and put it in her mound,
I get my back in motion as I begin to pound.
Legs in the air, lying on her back,
I start to punish her sweet little crack.
Her soft moans turn to wild screams,
Just like I imagined in my dreams.
When it's over we say 'goodbye'.
Happy to share this natural high.
When we meet again at work, we have nothing to say,
Just smile and ask, 'How was your day?'
It is nice to have a job related perk,
Makes me happy I went to work.
06-03-09.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:48 PM UTC