"resistances" poems
I.
So long are the thoughts of someone so beautiful
pulled in by a vision of body and mind so young
chasing inspiration to steal the gaze of a woman
like a fire that burns so to a heart seated in passion
and even harder to fight the warmth of attraction,
yet a gentlemen waits until he is given the pleasure.
II.
In a moment, one can see his eyes filled with pleasure
given a glow whilst reflecting something beautiful.
She never shies away from the design of his attraction,
hard to build a foundation on a ground yet so young.
Yet there is no limit, even one such as age, to limit passion,
rarely does time measure wisdom between a girl or a woman.
III.
His pheromones work magic to his beating heart for a woman.
She seeks to be the resting of his desires that fulfill his pleasure.
There is a slow creeping thought that feelings are merely passion,
and there is little but a burning lust rather than something beautiful.
Harder are the connections with the ones who venture young,
but an old soul has the experiences that altered fates attraction
IV.
There are those who walk away from such an attraction
Envisioning a different path with an older woman
Seeing little to gain mentally from a person fairly young
Never realizing that her mind was always his pleasure
Not just intellect, but thoughts that were oh so beautiful,
With words that reflect such a bright heart of passion.
V.
No matter resistances or distances, their connection is their passion.
They write to impress one another, flirting to increase the attraction.
Displaying their hearts for each other in writings so beautiful,
many poems composed for and because of, a certain woman.
Never by touch but a pen evoking feelings with written pleasure,
sharing in a cryptic way the hidden feeling from when young.
VI.
Still one cannot find the power to resistant a flower, young.
Merely looking for a fuel to fire our deepest passion,
never forgetting the strength of giving pleasure.
Baring his shyness to show complicated attraction,
in the pursuit of a hope that she is no ordinary woman.
Like hoping on a sunrise, but knowing it will be beautiful.
VII.
Intricate is the passion in the face of his attraction.
So too is the zeal of the wanting young woman.
Still the greatest pleasure is that she is beautiful.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
turning her charms so slow.
he smiles,
in the wetness of his reward
cranking and cranking!
winding her in notch after notch
tormenting her to madness.
all her dreams melt into him
as his promised shards hit deep
****** after ******
his jagged edge cuts to bleed
her mind and body
leading her to a valley of darkness
bellows and cries
relentlessly in her crescent moon
the moans swelling
from the corners of her abyss
he stabs wildly
in the glare of her darkshine
leaving the streaks of fingerprints
across her window pane
devilishly in his detail of precision
distorting her pleasure in pain
the legs of her willingness spread wide
her Innocence weeps nectar
tears from the depths of her
obscene layers of unseen obsession
unfold the heated flower
of her awaken phoenix-fire
tightening the gaps of her resistances
enraging his beast to survival
forcing his fight for freedom
thrashing away
his ***** courage leading the way
she finally surrenders
to his death blows
in total disregard in retaliation
she strikes a venomous bite
to his throat and lips
her poisonous kiss
their last breath shares
perspiration's sweet scent of exhaustion
as their life force drains to one
from their lust of the battle
in their pursuit to win the war of passion
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 12:57 PM UTC
Laws flaws
Mans plains
Long pause
Wrong hands
Wake up
Shake up
Blood soaked makeup
Start to stay up
Watching day come
Terrorist world executives
Drones bombing the yokels
Resistances stay local
Thanks to yamamoto
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC
there is only one thing ever happening
the mind is essentially just wandering
even though these protopian discoveries
lead us toward disheartening realities
they show us our resistances
to living in impermanence
I just want to stay in bed all day
with satellites circling my head
can we tell the green ones from the red
or have we all just gone astray
would you even try to tell me
if there was something I could say
to alleviate your suffering
nothing, oh well perhaps
that's the most attractive thing
for if we disagree and can still be purposeful
then its possible that we are already free
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
Look I know girls love Rihanna,
Have an attitude like Nicki
Woke up like Beyoncé
Then hit the gram in they Vickis
These days it's hard to meet women
All have a problem with commitment
Too busy touching another mans pigment
Thinking it's love but it's figment...
I'm scared to let somebody in on this
No new friends
Ohh, oh oh
You know how this all goes
Late night sexting on the phone
Independent but hates being alone
A new man every night
The type of behavior that she cannot condone
Hold on,
Girl, Talk to me, talk to me
Those sweet nothings help me listen
Look at her body coming close
Temptation breaks her resistances
Look at her, what is she missing?
She's missing slow morning kisses
Mh
A man who finds her favorite position
Mh
Then goes deep with her permission
Yeah
Hm
Say my name, say my name
Those other women were practice
Hop up on me and take action
Those thighs are fantastic
Kiss my lips with your disaster...
Make my heart beat faster...
Then whisper to me after...
Tell me how you love, love our traction
I mean attraction
Baby, Are we just acting?
Cause this the ****** of your movie
Let it slow play, and just take action
She starts biting and scratching
Breath hesitating as she's gasping
She's screaming and tells me to lunge
I'm moving in sync with the music
She said she's ready to come,
Come all the way back down
Her body was so high and numb
Cause she's addicted to the pleasure
And in love with the fun...
The fun of losing her mind in the ectasy of a moment
Where pretty girls claim that their picky but puts it down to any man with roses
I'm not saying that I'm right
I'm not saying that I'm wrong
I'm just saying you're queen girl
Treat yourself like one
If *** was a weapon it would go right for the heart
It would manipulate the brain
It would be a fatal scare
So, I Know girls love Rihanna
And wanna body like Nicki
I'm just saying make a man earn it
Don't give it up just so quickly
Keep your morals held strong
And your respect held high
Stop messing around with these boys
When your heart needs maturity
And soul needs a good guy.
~love~
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC
Who are the seers of this world?
Oftentimes, their perceived sense of safety is fenced-in by their very constraint.
Dare you be different in the age of minimalistic conformity?
On our own heads be it, my delicately-dancing friends of eggshell walkways.
Seasonal variance has already begun, despite our willful resistances.
In our perceived safety, we have mismanaged a nest of rich paupers.
But our administrative denunciations will crumble in the state which dwarfs individuals for the purposes of cultivating docile allegiances at a cost that no words could ever articulate.
Thank you, my postmodern travelers of continuum.
One more thing - have a good night.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
Fountains of shame summon your nemeses
We are all pregnant with our resistances
She speaks in rhythms deep
As poems emerge from her hips
She thinks about the river and it quivers
Underneath her skin
There are dolphins reaching for the sky
Flippers finding fingers to caress their alibis
We are all singers
Of a song that has no words
And painters of images that have never been seen
We are impregnated by our dreams
While single handed sailors row us all to safety
We are basically still ashamed
Of all this pretty ugly creativity
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 4:26 PM UTC
Ride alone into the distant
Resistances leads to loneliness
Not hurting anyone
Not trying to get hurt
Get to know a person learn to trust
One light stand is lust
Open up but blocked out
Shut them out anxious to get in
Share yourself become true
Unite as one don't rush
It's over once you start lying
Make it work keep trying
Broken trust communication is the key
Aim for the best not a protest
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Listening with all senses is the key
But all picks do not always fit all lock
Tell me what your heart sings
Reading minds is a matter of habits
Failing are chances to comprehend
Tackling a friendship is like an ocean
We have only to choose a direction
But as it is with the universe of time
We may travel a straight line away
But will cross paths again, one day
And yet, I have broke resistances before
Hated as I walked over the threshold
As I pose like an irresistible dream
Not truly aware of my affect
Or to an untrained eye it may seem
Complicated are my actions in a day
But predictable lacks spontaneity
Bubbling through outward placidity
Holding on only to silent lucidity
Never seeing the unique nature of the mystery
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 9:05 AM UTC
Walk through
blast furnace
to the melted
Gold which is
attracting you
in the morning
and the noon
and the evening
and the night
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 2:02 AM UTC
*sounds of silence seeping through the shutters
i am sheltered by your blessings
uncover the direction you are leaning into
inspect the floor and dust off the furniture
daily activities fit for a human being
i seethe with anger
at tigers who are guilty
of counting with their paws
streams of discomfort
split through the surroundings
factions of opposition with opposite resistances
defiant and undigested
like lightning they swallow the sky
and out comes the morning
drunken in its radiance
as a purple amphibian
waves you goodbye
move out of the way
of the daylight
you are blocking the rays
from falling on my face
a futuristic landscape awaits you
savoring the sounds and sights
return to the immediate sensations
as perception always wavers
and unremarkably favors
the unforeseen serenity
and dreaminess of yesterday
these soporific sanguines
add sulfur to the saline pools
while you insist on talking cold turkey
our addictions are absolute distractions
operating under the radar of our minds
i am thinking about everything you said
how you wished that you were somewhere else
with your soul strung out upon a ledge
a watchful eye inspects the beautiful bodies
an embarrassing moment
a kiss concealed
a solid hour wasted
serving all the shields
a solid longing
liberated by touch
a purposeful warning about drinking too much
a crush on your babysitter
or a stranger in the raw
words are in favor so please
come and let your heart soar
through clouds of blueberry pie
representations of our libido
and dreams about spies
gardening in the winter time
breaking through the earth
a tiny tomato
is tomorrow’s food
tempered by the truth
the hard earth and snow
the water and the fire
combine down below
to remove the covers of the canvas
the watering cans
the sacks of diamonds
wrapped in burlap
your soul is just as hard
and frozen like **** cherries
i bake them in the oven
a hundred degrees below
you are straight outta Compton
and away we must go
i long to touch your darkness
in romance and repose
a willing participant in the storm below
please ready yourself for diving
into waters of your mind
a poisonous fungi foraged in the wood
and so now where shall we grow*
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
The Moon has abandoned us
We are but blades of grass in a shielded blow
We are merely stones in a river's roll
One day we will be no longer.
We are desperate to cling to
some semblance of reason
but what good does the morrow bring worth breathing today for??
What good is so good that I should stay awake?
We are trying so hard to pretend that sharing our crazy is the least crazy thing
We cling so hard to this notion that we forget to look in the mirror while exchanging pictures of each other instead of reflecting on who we are,
But then, what's the point of reflecting on who we are when all we're capable of is our own life? Literally, the most powerful thing we can do is end ourselves. We aren't so special. We're just bodies with artificial flavors. No semblance of natural beauty; it's all been placed there by our self-serving pursuit of purpose. It's so much easier to believe we suffer for a reason. We don't.
A sad, frail calamity
A ship on endless ocean
Misery loves company, and that's why we've outlawed suicide, because really
You can't tell me you really believe we will be punished for ending our own durations, given to us without permissions,
You can choose your destiny as long as you stay alive. Death is not an option, until it is, and then what?
You're so glad that I'm expressing myself, but you wish i'd say some different things
So glad to see me creative again, but so against the things i say again and again and again and again and I just want somebody to make it all better like when you're 5 and don't know what existence ******* is but you get a cut on your finger and now you exist, but then your momma comes and sticks a band-aid on your finger and the pain of existence is gone. i want that feeling again.
But my mom's antibacterial powers have subsided as the ills have built resistances; they're now resisting penicillin and we don't own anything else right now. I open up my medicine cabinet, anyway. There's Tylenol. At least it'll help to ease the pain.
I take one. I take another. It isn't working. I take some more. Do these have a limit? I think they do. But I can't read at this point. I take another. I take another. I'd be counting but i can't do that, either. I keep taking the pills. I never stop. For all of eternity I take additional Tylenols, until a sad, frail calamity comes home from work and sees a sunken fleshy ship at the end of its ****** and final voyage.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
In the morning –
The enemy advanced and
our shields were down
for our strength was divided –
As we sat down by the banks of the river, By Babylon, we drank mouth to the water diluted with the blood of our people –
we cried;
[Oh you left ‘us ugly, gallant men twiddling our thumps In outer space wriggling…]
our song was gone
and the grief was bitter,
an excruciating pain we suffered,
we prayed for an intervention
for the journey we had to endure,
the humiliation wasn’t diabolical;
the restrain on our psych was worst-
we were bulls that operates the plough the mole that pull the carts any resistances was rewarded;
deprived of food and water-
sleep deluded from our eyes
tears never came to their sockets-
day and night;
for the pleasure of our masterswelabored gruelingly through
the high mountains
down to the shallow valleys –
the storms came and the rains fell,
the sun rose radiating our skin complicating our plight.
Hearts became ******
for the hard times,
forceful than the logic of the mind,
for we wondered if we shall ever return…….
home.
Our home is become Rome
and we playing by their rules
W/ no course to own
The muscle of our voice impair’d
Our soul in perpetual despair Lashed with strikes of hardship
So we set the enterprise
Of digging holes in our hearts
An industry for pixie dust To ensure grandel dines w/ wine
As we labored to set
The wolfs off before dusk
Burning the candle of midnight
Until we sight the morning light
Hope; w/ ‘e bird took flight to…..
No where.
We were lost at sea ,
With wild whales with big bellies-
Petty are we finless fishes,y we wishutord;
Not that we couldn’t
But the bankruptcy of the trust we accord, The trustees of our wealth; Misjudge our worth,
Sold our oil to the pirates of the west-The custodian of our essence
Mistake our silence for sin
To bargain an endless spin
Nonetheless our green field….
foreseen……
(c) 2017-
Tj. Kwame Photo credit: LolitoCatahan@[pictify.saatchigallery.co
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC