"prosing" poems
L
e
T'sD
oTonight
hard. we'll finger ginger prematurely. immaturely. and
offended glossy cheeks. the fair legs, forever apart, the night's
begging panting heaving & yes let's
oD
2
nite
impossibly posing
prosing nosing (it smells red
and neon). guns are our bones.
sensibly obscure the daft incommensurable
s,m'og O' inside the pooch, the slumping curve
the curbs and dancing, the jostling snort
of brain's panes behind them saying just faces.
unchaste faces. a multitudinous saliva teeming
young wagging hems lifted with my fingers
going under your cotton and right up
to your "'yes'" Y
3
s!
May 17, 2011
May 17, 2011 at 9:25 PM UTC
i want to prose you on the kitchen table
with my smile melting into your own.
and i want to prose you as colors of the sunset
awash your skin,
preserving our moment in amber.
oh,
and can i prose you in the morning
before we go to work
and sleepiness has
not quite
fled from our muscles?
i want to prose you while your fingertips
trail from
my cheek
to my hair
to my shoulders,
effortless like water
trickling down the length of me.
i want to prose you
roughly,
gently,
quietly,
loudly,
taking our time,
lettings details fill themselves
between the hours.
i want to prose you in the dead of winter,
with the fire crackling like a whispered secret,
and in the slowest molasses days of summer,
when grime and sweat clings to flypaper skin.
i will prose you ‘till we are speechless,
and sleeping tucked between the pages of a masterpiece.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
The tendrils of words succumb
to the craft of mind and hand
prosing until both are numb
the drive, the will, demands
To touch her heart and soul
her spirit, if he can
allowing her to feel, his goal
as much as she, can stand
Pouring forth liberally
some, not as he had planned
emotions raw, at full capacity
passions and fires, fanned
He showers her in ***********
lines, syllables, verbs, and nouns
a soft and sensual discourse
and in her mind, resounds
It's not just the thought of ***
while making love, to mind
it goes beyond the word, the text
with every sultry whispered
rhyme
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 8:53 AM UTC
Why the warrior poet
and not the rhythmic rogue
why not the free verse mason
or simply art in vogue
Why is struggle prevalent
when artistry the call
picking whatever medium
contention on the stall
Pain and conflict tussle
sculptor, writers block
wrestling ourselves
awaiting muse's knock
Sometimes it never comes
in other times a flood
prosing words in the rain
creating artifice from mud
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC