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Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
My sea is far away
let's meet closer anywhere
under the one same cloud.

My blue water
is for the sun.
I sing beneath the wave.

My rose
is for the show
I am imbued
in the fragrance.

My sky is open;
it hugs the earth
reaching out far afar.
Beyond the rainbow
beyond the peacock's eyes.

Catch it too.
See from beneath the blue
slips out a butterfly!
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Conditionless
Zane Jul 2017
To whom it may concern;
As I watch you from afar,
It seems your mental living conditions have become poor.

While the paint on your house seems new,
the garden, gently cared for
and your front porch, freshly swept
all of the rooms in your house are a mess.

The foyer,
which once invited large storms of crowds
and your master suite;
the most lavish room in the entire house
are covered in trash, half-empty bottles,
and what i can only surmise
as a deep depression in the walls and floor

But your attic, whereby
you store your most valuable treasures
thought,
wisdom
beauty
appears to have grown dark
and now neither dark basement nor top floor
can be told apart

so dear,
i write you this, to speak of my qualifications
my abilities, as a household repairman
though i may not hold any formal degree,
please,
see my references,
as quite soon, i would love to get to work
and teach you
to rebuild your home
ryn Oct 2014
Give me a minute
To read the stars
Lamenting in their stories
Their laboured twinkling far and sparse

Give me this moment
To stumble and swoon
My branches reaching for
The faraway moon

Give me a while
To be one with the universe
Hear the colliding planets
As they spill their mournful verse

Give me some time
To plot my rightful place
Within my uncharted galaxy
And collapsing space...
Jordan Rowan May 2016
Flashing light paranoia
Insecure and dark
Dressed to hide a wounded heart
As she implores ya to make a start
Like a vampire with skinny teeth
Making love under painful art
What does she see when she looks at me?
Does she want to tear it apart?

Coming from the mountaintops
Are voices singing out
If only I could hear what they sang about
I'm counting on a soulful shout
She makes her way across the floor
Still unsure of what she's without
But when she reaches out for something
She receives a little doubt

Never mind the lights
Never mind what they hide
The song will say it's what's inside
It's alright to be shy
But when the time comes for showing up
Saying hello and not goodbye
I hope you know that rejection hurts
But regret will watch you die
rofan Dec 2018
to write
to write words that were forever spoken
within
words that might leave
but never disappear
like a rose it lives, it dies
so it becomes part of a new life
today i might no longer speak
i might no longer hear
.
today i am only
and i am only me
alone in a part of something,
that is forever awaken
so the more i feel
the less i believe
.
like the sun
it gave light
to the moon to be bright
i want my words
the fingers that once wrote
it gave certainty
Infinity to my world
so sun,
i hope you never get enable
to make your light reach to every spot of the earth
not like my own words
that never reached
the only rose
that i wanted to reach.
Ella Gwen Oct 2018
It is dark outside and

the winter is creeping in again and

you are not here again and

I am here again and

it never ends and

it's dark outside.
I'm brOKen Jan 2018
Grasping for the air in my gasp,
Uneverlasting, all good things come to an end
Water too deep, I cannot reach
I must be glad, for I won't last.

Clinging to the air in my lungs,
With last breath singing, life or death do not belong
Much oxygen, won't come within,
I'm somewhat mad, won't let me last.

Chasing the things unreachable
I'm never changing, yet rearrangeable,
Barrier so thick, can't feel your hits,
I'm good you're sad, won't see me last.

Falling, hoping that it's to soar
Cranium hawling, I don't like, but get more
Air rush through crease, my wings released
Falling to death, can't **** me, yet.
H E L E N A Dec 2018
Hands outstretched in the dark,
What was I searching for?
I have been blinded by a spark.

A touch and a tingle.
A tinge and a sizzle.

Our worlds don't cross,
Like snowflakes in a pensive midnight sky,
Moths on a street-lit summer night.

Parallel planes,
parallel pains.

The sun won't smile,
The stars don't sparkle,
The moon was a dimming spotlight.

Sparks fade out and crumble.
Hearts played out, we fumble.

I have to speak soon,
Or I'll lose you to the gloom.
I just don't know how to-
Sometimes, it's better to follow your impulses.
Ma Cherie Sep 2016
Speaking of broken hearts
and mended fenced in mem'ries  
I am painting skies
of tangerine, saffron
& an illuminated lilac hue
against the starkly contrasted crisp cornflower blue, stretching canvas that is
along with all the
other blindingly beautiful colors of a twilight sky

And those dripping cotton candy stratospheric clouds
Ice crystals freezing into supercooled
water droplets
Streaking the sky in cirrus whispers
..I hear them whisper, "hello"...

Blinding beauty
through unadulterated sunlight
I am fleeced like a lamb
watching in awe,
..in wonder
then stomping sounds
of coming thunder,

Finding depth and height
out  in the stratosphere
Blinded by the
After Light
or afterglow
affected by the amount of haze
I'm in a daze
...as I am reaching

High above the fading light
of a brilliant early fall sunset
I take a big breath
of that sumptuous air
and twirl my skirted legs
my painted toes
where I know
I am back
to solid ground

Appreciating the last time
I say sleep well
to you  my dear
summertimes sweet mem'ries
and the fun we had this year.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
Wow....idk. Felt inspired.
Pieces of me
thrown away
like trash
Never consulted
Never asked
The direct result
of another’s conviction
or more commonly seen
consequences
from blind ambition

Paranoid
The fix is in
But no invitation
for me,
former me
or forever me
and all of my imitations
beset by my
limitations

Forwardly I lean
step in between
lines upon lines
hidden;
can’t be seen
Falling ill
Now trapped
by its machine
And from my vein;
My blood I spill

A still surface
with sticky sheen
amber tones
from which
I glean
a reason
Thrilled
What it might mean
A hunger
that
can not be filled

Nothing but lies
giving me chills
A shell
with values
not instilled
Instead
it’s dread
Their words
I’m fed
"Nutrients"
to fill my head

My outer skin
Its layer
thin
Not to attacks
No single act
or prayer
could patch
and fill it in
A hole
that’s black
is my first sin

A game
in which
no way to win
and no ending
once it
begins
With opened eyes
commence to see
The dorsal fins
surrounding me

Head starts
to spin
What could have been?
It doesn't matter
in the end
because
there's nothing
here for me
A demon-like reality

Where what you seek
Placed at your feet
The icing; sweet
Choices; not three
Have cake or eat
One choice not two
But want to eat
and have it too

All efforts
to retrieve the treat;
An outcome that
ends in defeat
A princess swept
off of her feat
But this feature
princess;
a creature
Spirit of
a soulless seeker

Deceitful speaker
Flames;
he’ll eat ya
Offers pain
Can’t heal;
life drained
Then reaching out
to use
life-line
but with each ring
hope further wanes

An answered call
done just in time
The chills
running all down my spine
Stand tall
just like Douglas-fir pine
With racing thoughts
filling my mind
I will be saved
Free from it all
God must exist
No time to stall
In battle
warriors
may fall
but no man's ever left behind

Only to find
With said spent dime
A dynamite kind of answer
-
A type
that might
cause strife
Can't plan for
Needed answer
Plight
like cancer
New chance to live
Worldly romancer
On planet Earth
A tiny dancer

A romantic thought
to think
fight fought
Instead a sinking ship
just dropped
This life?
If could
an ‘OUT’
would opt
No more
can take
Just make
it stop
Written: April 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to ******* your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
ryn Dec 2014

       you
               secretly
                       wishing, for
                              your writes to be
                                noticed•simple sign
                             that they have not been
                          missed•with every view
                     and every like•your popu-
               larity does spike•somewhat
          places your art on the poetry
      map•between major players,     
  you close the gap•constantly      
checking to see  who's been              
reading•you're always deli-               
ghted to see the 'yellow                      
lightning'
•a wish...                            
    for those who                             
     are writ-                    
ing      

secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending
* the above does not apply to everyone here.
Aisha Nov 2018
Like a ferris wheel,
It all moved real fast.
With an effort that only time could tell
Making every eye that falls on it, last
But in the end stayed stangnant
In a place where the end was always another start  

Inspite of the mindless pace and run
Inspite of the beads of sweat that fell
It lay in a motion of stillness
With no fruition of the struggle it dealt  

But inspite of all this trouble and toil
There rose an unstoppable spirit
Fueled from the quenched desire of shine
Did it keep the raging fire inside lit
Scarlett Mar 25
I obsess over what it must feel like
to have the earth's veins beneath your feet
roots flowing like a lightning strike
your soil is mother nature's meat

do blades of grass encase your feet
when taking your slice of heaven for granted
pretending the honey doesn't taste as sweet
as the sprouts from the seeds love planted

you wouldn't like the place I dwell
melting skin and bloodied hands
my head is every circle of hell
purgatory hath no sympathy for lambs
have you ever felt so distant you're not on earth itself?
welcome to my mind, the limbo between heaven and hell.
Cné Nov 2017
he once said to me...

                 “I would blow warm
                         moist breath through
                                          your toes...
                           I would do all the
                  wonderful things
                to your big toes
                  that you do to me.
                      And most certainly
                         all the tension would  
                             drain onto me...
                               I would draw
                                every last drop
                               from your toes
                          with little messages
                         along the way of my
                      charted course
                         to come up
                      your inner channels.
        Resting in the sensitive eddies  
      behind your knees
  we both breathe fire
    wafting up and down
                         your thighs.”


.... like drips of seduction off his tongue.

And he lingered on, saying...

                   “Flaming lips wafting
             together with desire,
       reaching and pulling
          with firey licks.
       As I slide
   my wet tongue
    on up and hover,
           breathing
                     you in
                           deeply...
                           through my nostrils
                         filling my *** senses.
                       Drunk on your fumes,
                I'm consumed.
           Circling the tip
       of my nose
   around
your hard,
   pearly knot
       feeling the heat
             from your butterfly wings
            my parted lips surounding
          and easing the warmth
     of my soul onto you
with wet hot breath.
   And I ease the length
          of my tongue to rest
      completely over
    your fire breathing wings ,
               warm capable and ready..
                   leaving you in suspense.
                      Sliding ever so slightly
                           and slowly up your      
                              slick silky lips,
                     tightening the tip
                   of my tongue -
                      flick flick
                             flick flick...
             And I look deeply
           into your eyes,
                  into depths
                    you've never known.
                       And then I'll take you
                        all in, with a suction
                           you'll never escape
                             or ever want to.
      Never breaking eye contact
my tongue slides from bottom
        and presses, emphasis
         at the top slowly
        over and over
            settling you in.
                We fall into
                   a oneness
                        and find  
                        our groove.”


And I said...

“I wish I wasn't
still irritated with you
so I could fully
enjoy your seduction.”


It’s my 100th poem and thought I’d do something different. Be kind! XD
Jesse stillwater Jul 2018
there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018
Notes:                                                                                                          
a friend sent  a link to a deeply thought provoking modern classic 70's song about Vincent Van Gogh and the complexities of imperfection some of us relate .... i'd listened to the words prior but never heard before now.

  Title is last final lyric line from:  "Vincent" (Starry, Starry night) 1971
Writer(s): DON MCLEAN, ENRICO NASCIMBENI,
ROBERTO VECCHIONI
King Panda Jan 2017
I’m the perm of a
Poet
I can choke
I can breathe
I can drink a cup of coffee
And you
Are a murmuration
A flock of afternoon
midnight
I will let your
Black mass love me
However
However
However
It can
I’m reaching for you
Little bird
Take me with your arrow
The streets of this
Pure piano
And I introduce the yowling
Trumpet
The dead skin on
my back
Flecks with the quiver
Of flying with you
By choice
Julie Rogers Mar 29
My morning feet ponder the pavement
Lonely eyes saluting the clouds
And the skyscrapers that grasp at the sky
The Tower of Babel
We reached god, and we branded him
Profited on his grace
So now we must build towers that shoot towards the sky
Like the twisting fingers of a falling man
grace Sep 2018
i can hear it in the way your voice sounds.

the way you laugh,

the way i can see your smile through the speakers knowing that big heart carries worries and hardships that i will never know.

like quiet refrigerator humming, i can feel the pit of your stomach in mine.

i can see the way the ivy of the ocean spills and rushes around your neck the climbing waters rooting into you.

after the quiet days you will give me a meter and i can feel my heart start running miles, reaching for you,

trying to figure out some way to pick up all of this broken glass so you won’t get cut on the sharp edges.

i’m trying to save this sand that is spilling from my chest into my overflowing hands, so we can build a home together.

trying to bail the water out of the hull of your ship so the salt won’t touch your lips,

because

the ocean is deep and wide and so, so much blue but it isn’t enough to even try
and keep me from you.
i will swim out until im so tired im gasping,

so i can carry you out of the deep, brush the jellyfish from your hair, and whisper to the starfish that have found home in your eyes til they slide away back to their tidepools.

i will kiss the salt away and smother you in fresh water and warm hands to hold.

i know you are sailing in rough waters, the waves beat against my door and it makes me sea sick knowing you’re so far out.

i will turn on the lighthouse and stretch my arms as far as they will go, reaching to pull you back safely to the shoreline,

reaching to bring you home.

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