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Rafael Alfonzo Mar 2015
Beneath the woven moonlight
And the glistening lapidary against the sapphire eve
Like ice-flakes on a dark hood
For as great as my nearsighted eyes can see

With a cigarette in the driveway
And the feathers of those clouds falling down
My breath and the smoke runs away with the zephyr
And I’m alone again in this pretty how town

Without a sound
Waiting for you to come back around
Without a glance for the ground
Waiting for you to come back

Like the farmers wait for their flax
Or the women tend to the millions of moths
That sound like rain on the roofs
Or that sound like the crackling of my cigarette burning
Breaking the silence beneath the woven cocoon
Light of the white philtrum moon

It’s her and I and the clouds falling down
And just that single solitary sound
Waiting for you to come back around
Hoping you come back soon

(c) 2015
Sometimes Starr May 2017
Find out if I'm flammable?

The font itself glimmers on that gossamer skin
Wobbling strings of white-blue seem to
Wink at you, take the hint.

On to the advanced stages.

When you met, that tender peach smile
Set a garden of fire on your teenage altar.

But now her smile is a deeper laceration,
She knows you better. It's in her eyes--
This is the thrill part, this is what the stars all came to see.

Where we have some history,
And I see this woman sort of stalking me around a pool...
Like I just found some secret she was withholding,
and she was waiting for me to find it...

Find out if I'm flammable?
We jump in.
We came to start a fire.
Donall Dempsey Nov 2018
LOVE CHARM

I kiss your philtrum
and you moan.  

I lick a tiny trickle
of sweat  

from it.  

I know
it has no  

apparent function
& survives  

between your delightful nose
& your delicious upper lip.  

But what
of it?  

A kiss
fits  

so
neatly  

into
it.  

And leads to lips
& lips upon lips  

ending in an ******
ellipsis . . .

I love to look
upon it  

as the indent left
by the finger of God  

or where an angel
shushes the yet-to-be-born  

teaching it to forget
all it has learned  

in the world
of the womb.  

I kiss again
your philtrum  

a kiss  
fits  

so  
neatly

into  
it.
Carly Salzberg Sep 2010
Weathered flesh tightens tenderly in ever-expanding fibers
like an anatomical snuffbox.
The perspiring philtrum of a flew
is carved quickly but more desperate than a slice of kerf.
Uncoiled youth cissing uneven pigmentation
has been slaughtered like fall duff.
Yet she rejoices, snood and all,
To the tap, tap, tap
Of little dingbats.
Leo P Mar 2010
I stare at your eyes and gather;
I close mine and wait:

the soft, yet vapid
on my lips, slightly open.
Yours cupped on my overlip.

The charged air, the sublimed space.

I close mine on yours,
and stay.
The comfort of overwhelmed.
We stay, please.

I push.

The warmth
of your every breath on
my philtrum:
you are with me, now;

I feel my bridge on yours
point it
and rest
on the vast, skin beside.
(carry me)

I run my thumb
on the smooth of your jaw,
the tender and sweet in
them lips
your delicate beauty.

Yes, dear:
I drown myself tonight
in your mouth.
We glow
in our little corner of the dark,
and starless sky.

Your brow loll on my forehead
your eyes gently unshut
looking
beyond the locked lips,
and the caressing chins,
on us.

Because.

My love,
more to tomorrow
and growing surround,
the ephemera of the night:

our lips,
inevitably,
will part.
Thibaut V Sep 2013
Hasina had gums of a prune colored play dough, much like the type which he used to mold and model into similar contraptions and cases. Contrasting with the teeth of a superb suburban plaster, the ***** contusion continued its conversation. Collecting admirers and adolescent adonis’ innocent of their sins. Since the inoculation, passed away, a pretense to nervousness approached the very essence of our chest; the bead of the brooch where we found the philtrum too close to the nose. Curling inside its own bare curves. A bed without sheet, hindered, harnessed, the horse dragged on.

We soon found that the things we feigned to hate would come close to fame, In a magazine cover sheet, handed in late.

Hasina, and her mother, certainly did not suppose that that beneath the floor boards, neither harm nor concern would be discovered. And neither was. With the way their will worked things became distributed. Disturbed guests of unwanted presents and gifts soon re-sent to other more malleable means of hospitality.

Hungered as the hundredth wolf come to late. He too howled, but not at the moon, or rather not its simulacrum of a glowing truth, its silver light, or any movements its clearly showed. Growing loose the tumor slipped out, slowly. And with a plop, pressed against the walls, The jaws dropped and the mason jar closed and posed on exhibition for lessons, and interests, obsessions, dreads, things grotesque pressed against the walls.

To be captured, resting above the skyscrapers. Where in the hours of dawn, space overlaps, a frowned pace of a clock grows fondly of the time that is lost and past.
brooke Mar 2014
I saw me
in that. I
wonder
if your
pencil
still
draws
the curves
of my lips
and if it
does I
hope
you erase
in vain,
that you
can't deviate
from the way
my
philtrum
caught all
the shadows
(c) Brooke Otto 2014

small thought.
C Nov 2010
As you **** and jiggle
hop and knock
slip and giggle
keep a foot forward
and the other forewarned.
Slack jawed and hackneyed
you're endlessly forlorn
slack kneed and jack knifed.
High on strife and ******,
car crashes on black rock
cracked streets and hard
sweets lined teeth so
stained with self love that
your internal apathy fits
glove-like and I am hungry
struggling against your
thundering angry words
filled with fifty year old
angst ugly with stretch
marks but more from
the sadness dribbling
down your philtrum un-wiped
like I was and the only thing
I now want cleaned off is my
memories of you smeared
erratically and etched eternally
onto my life.
Donall Dempsey Feb 2018
LOVE CHARM

I kiss your philtrum
and you moan.  

I lick a tiny trickle
of sweat  

from it.  

I know
it has no  

apparent function
& survives  

between your delightful nose
& your delicious upper lip.  

But what
of it?  

A kiss
fits  

so
neatly  

into
it.  

And leads to lips
& lips upon lips  

ending in an ******
ellipsis . . .

I love to look
upon it  

as the indent left
by the finger of God  

or where an angel
shushes the yet-to-be-born  

teaching it to forget
all it has learned  

in the world
of the womb.  

I kiss again
your philtrum  

a kiss  
fits  

so  
neatly

into  
it.
The philtrum (Latin: philtrum, Greek: φίλτρον philtron, lit. "love charm"), or medial cleft, is a vertical groove in the middle area of the upper lip, common to many mammals, extending in humans from the nasal septum to the tubercle of the upper lip. Together with a glandular rhinarium and slit-like nostrils, it is believed] to constitute the primitive condition for mammals in general.

In most mammals, the philtrum is a narrow groove that may carry dissolved odorants from the rhinarium or nose pad to the vomeronasal ***** via ducts inside the mouth.

For humans and most primates, the philtrum survives only as a vestigial medial depression between the nose and upper lip.

The human philtrum, bordered by ridges, also is known as the infranasal depression, but has no apparent function. That may be because most higher primates rely more on vision than on smell. Strepsirrhine primates, such as lemurs, still retain the philtrum and the rhinarium, unlike monkeys and apes.

In Jewish mythology, each embryo has an angel teaching them all of the wisdom in the world while they are in utero. The Angel lightly taps an infant's upper lip before birth, to silence the infant from telling all the secrets in the universe to the humans who reside in it; the infant then somewhat forgets the Torah they have been taught. Some believers of the myth speculate that this is the cause of the philtrum, but it does not have a basis in traditional Jewish texts.

In Philippine mythology the enchanted creature diwata (or encantado) has smooth skin, with no wrinkles even at the joints, and no philtrum.

In Key Largo (1948), Frank McCloud (Humphrey Bogart) tells a fairy tale to a child, saying that, before birth, the soul knows all the secrets of heaven, but at birth an angel presses a fingertip just above one's lip, which seals us to silence.

In the movie Mr. Nobody, unborn infants are said to have knowledge of all past and future events. As an unborn infant is about to be sent to its mother, the "Angels of Oblivion" lightly tap its upper lip, whereupon the unborn infant forgets everything it knows. The movie follows the life story of one infant, whose lip hadn't been tapped.

In the movie The Prophecy, the Archangel Gabriel (Christopher Walken) asks Thomas Dagget, "Do you know how you got that dent in your top lip? Way back, before you were born, I told you a secret, then I put my finger there and I said 'Shhhhh!'"

In Action Comics #719 the Joker says a clue is right under Batman's nose. This leads him to a Dr. Philip Drum..

In the book Prince Ombra by Roderick MacLeish, the "cleft on our upper lips" is attributed to being hushed by a "cavern angel" just before we are born.
Helios Rietberg Oct 2011
Yesterday

I felt the first whips of cotton
breath on my philtrum
dancing into my nostrils
piercing my mind

Whitewash and mild breeze
I turned my head and tried
******* in an inhalation
baring my teeth

Grit
and noise
Burn
and shatter
Divulge
and scream
Tears
and blood

Time
flowing beyond my veins
into the abyss of eternity
eternity

Treading softly they
smuggled into my soul
pandoras of guilt
giving me brief glints

Underneath some semi-heavy sandalphon wings
grime and some dusty tomes
undulating like streams and whispering waves
I spotted the angel star
Like every snow fall I had before.
© Helios Rietberg, October 2011
gwen Sep 2014


I see

bruised crescents under eyes
chapped lips screaming cries
mucus dripping down my philtrum
stubbled chin, cheeks a-glisten

hopeless, tear-streaked as they are
no hope at all, not near nor far
angled bones, where there were curves
fresh-drawn scars, from someone out of love

this is exactly what I see
right here
in the mirror.

Donall Dempsey Feb 2016
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
Vince Chul'Theg May 2017
Why do I deserve this?
How do I deserve this?
What did I do and in which
Lifetime that has lead to
Me receiving such prodigious love?

Your face beaming upward
Backward hat left ear bent

Your eyes scale my
Adam's apple
Chin
Bottom Lip
Top Lip
Philtrum
Tip of Nose
Bridge
Bottom Lash
Pupil locked

You smile
Then wink
In that way I said I hated
Because I thought it was cheap
And I'm glad I said that
Because now I love it
And the ****** expression
And words that follow
Every Single Time
"Sup?"

Can I read you a poem?

Our inside jokes
Build
Rigorously
Congruously
Correlationally
To our love,
Pesto.

But you already know that.

You inspire me
Blue flame fire in me
You will agree
To a large degree
Is on account of our
Souls' connectivity
Meant to be

My heart dances on the bridge
That connects tears of laughter
And tears of shear happiness and
Gratitude and as my heart swells
To rugby ball bloat
I ask: What am I going to do with you?
You say: Love me.

Well?
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I'm in love with you.

Pesto, let's go home.
Nash Corax Oct 2020
I have baptized myself by immersion of studying your photograph, examining as each constituent lives under my scrutiny. I have been waiting for my brain to acknowledge the imperfections on the details of your physicality and introduce itself to your blemished deficiencies.
So far, it has already shook hands with the distance between your eyes, and the murk residing below the pair, the defined philtrum proudly standing in the middle of your nose and your mouth, the abnormal upward curve at both ends on the side of your parched lips, and the scream from your pupils that seem to sympathize with my observations.
With utmost patience, I have waited for my brain to perceive you under the category of ugly.




But I think that's just an excuse I say to myself so I could reason out why I'm still staring at your portrait after we have come to a compromise of parting.
Steadfast and unmoving
Donall Dempsey Feb 2022
LOVE CHARM




I kiss
your philtrum
and you moan






I lick a tiny trickle
of sweat  
from it





I know
it has no  
apparent function






& survives  
between your delightful nose
& your delicious upper lip






but what of it
a kiss fits  
so neatly into it





and leads to lips
& lips upon lips  
ending in an ****** ellipsis . . .






I love to look upon it  
as the indent left
by the finger of God  






or where an angel
shushes
the yet-to-be-born  






teaching it to forget
all it has learned  
in the womb's world
  






I kiss again
your philtrum  
a kiss  








fits  
so neatly
into it
Donall Dempsey Feb 2018
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2018
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
Donall Dempsey Nov 2020
LOVE CHARM

I kiss your philtrum
and you moan.

I lick a tiny trickle
of sweat

from it.

I know
it has no

apparent function
& survives

between your delightful nose
& your delicious upper lip.

But what
of it?

A kiss
fits

so
neatly

into
it.

And leads to lips
& lips upon lips

ending in an ******
ellipsis . . .

I love to look
upon it

as the indent left
by the finger of God

or where an angel
shushes the yet-to-be-born

teaching it to forget
all it has learned

in the world
of the womb.

I kiss again
your philtrum

a kiss
fits

so
neatly

into
it.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
Donall Dempsey Feb 2020
LOVE CHARM

I kiss your philtrum
and you moan.  

I lick a tiny trickle
of sweat  

from it.  

I know
it has no  

apparent function
& survives  

between your delightful nose
& your delicious upper lip.  

But what
of it?  

A kiss
fits  

so
neatly  

into
it.  

And leads to lips
& lips upon lips  

ending in an ******
ellipsis . . .

I love to look
upon it  

as the indent left
by the finger of God  

or where an angel
shushes the yet-to-be-born  

teaching it to forget
all it has learned  

in the world
of the womb.  

I kiss again
your philtrum  

a kiss  
fits  

so  
neatly

into  
it.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2023
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
KV Srikanth Mar 2021
YOU
There's beggary in the love
That can be reckoned
Replied Anthony when asked by Cleopatra If it be love indeed tell me how much

Your eyes reflect the soul
Both yours and the mine
Most beautiful pair
Glad they are with her
Light up when she smiles
Light up when she cries
Small in size piercing light
Engulfing the heart
Looking at it gives me pride
Lucky enough to look at it

Forehead that of a Goddess
Of a dimension only you posses
Hairline plucked back
Raven haired charmer
Sends out the message
Your heart leads
Capturing others
A place where
People will willingly incarcerate

Pins her beautiful nose
That pinned my soul to her
Long and sharp
Musicians Harp
The Philtrum by defenition
Has no apparent function
You are an exception
The mole placed
Right in the centre
Sets a billion hearts on fire
A rarity that
Your beauty was meant
For glory

Smile that looks
Like a hundred million bucks
See her smile
Seems like a mile
Skips a heartbeat
When the lips part
Not to speak
Memory of her smile
Lasts a lifetime
With happiness
Goes hand in hand
Lips a
Magicians wand
Key that fits my  heart
Makes my day
Day after day
Bright as the Sun
Lights the Night
Is it Patented?

Mysteious and Alluring
Passion Artristry
Behaviour Refined
Passion Contagious
Charisma Elegant
Artistry in the
Way you carry
Elegance by your
Very presence
Embodiment of refinement

Women like you
Define  a Woman
If I'd taken a step
Every time my heart skipped
I'll be holding the stars
Do I gift the stars to you
Or you to the stars
Together you fill the Galaxy
What a sight it would be ?

You exist is the
Very Essence
Of my existence
You not a goal
To be attained by persistence
Get you like a man
Or let go like man
In letting go
Lies the greatest love
Grief and Sorrow
I'll withstand
Hoping you ll be mine tomorrow
Tomorrow never comes
So I still get to have the faith
That one day will be the day
I hoped will be tomorrow
Donall Dempsey Feb 2020
THE ONLY EDEN

Granny unable to
see

would build me
touch by touch

with her blind fingertips
search for the face

she would create.

Here my cheekbone
coming into being

there an eyebrow
newly born

here an eye
there a philtrum

sculpted from sunlight
hewn from nothing

here blind seeing
fashioning me anew

her fingertips
butterflies

forming this
living portrait

of the face
I own.

Her fingers feeling
for each nuance...each tone

the music of me
plucked from thin air

one moment I am not
then I am

all there.

I made all the more
real.

More realer
that I could ever be

emerging from
her fingertips

as if I were
God's Adam

and this her tiny garden
the only Eden.
WELL, KISS MY POPLITEAL FOSSA!

I remember the golden
tassels of my dress
touching the back

of my knees
as I was kissed
for the very first

time bent over
in a clinch as if
we were statuary

the tassels' touch
exquisite in itself
much more sensual

than the actual kiss was
I wondered( his tongue
dancing with my tonsils)if:

there was a name for that
sort of thing
(the back of the knees I mean)

"Ok Freddie!" I commanded
seeing as I seemed
to be in command here

"...that's quite enough of that!"
shattered he reluctantly
took his tongue out of my cheek

"Cheeky ******!" I thought
"should never have let him go
...that far!"

crestfallen he
stammered
a sorry

"You won't tell my mother
...will you?"
hid his ******* with his topper

I went in at once
and asked of father
"Is there a name

for the back of the knees?"
"Of course there is my love!
It's your popliteal fossa!"

I tingled to my toes
having discovered my first
erogenous zone

and knowing
that one day
I would become a doctor

*

Just as the inside of your elbow...the crook of your elbow ...the elbow pit is..is called the "antecubital fossa".
And that cute little bit just under your nose and above your lip is called...the philtrum.
The suprasternal notch (fossa jugularis sternalis), also known as the jugular notch, is another part of human anatomy that is known as an erogenous zone but remains nameless. It is that large, visible dip at the base of the throat.
And that bony part of your elbow is an olecranon which I should know as I broke mine very badly. I was known as "the elbow" and doctors would almost drool over how bad it was and forget their professionalism and go "Shitttttttttt!"

— The End —