"richter" poems
it's hard to
be with you
and not get *****
your ***
your stomach
everything about you
makes me feel like
I just want to lift you up and throw you on the bed
rip your clothes off
and **** u so hard
until u *** all over
and scream and moan
and breathe so heavy
I want to feel your warm breath
on my neck
I want to feel your voice vibrate
as you give me head
I want to hear you say oh yes
as I **** you on the desk
and lift you up
and feel your *** cheeks
in my hands
girl I can't stand
to watch you walk away
without having a taste
and a sampling
of that wetness
my body yearns for you
it's a machine
that wants to be strong
and make you feel so good
that you can't imagine
ever touching another man
because
I'm your rock
When I had you in my arms
took hold of you
took control of you
you're mine now
I'm going to dominate you
and she likes it
she likes when I take over
and **** her all over
in several different positions
on the counter
to the bed
she ****** me, she was on top
and i felt that *** go up and down
and clap against my *****
then I flipped her over
and got on top
and ****** her hard and slow
she wanted to *** on my ****
which was perfectly fine with me
as I was caressing her ****
I ****** her against hte wall
threw her against the dresser
rubbed her *** on it
hard and aggressively
and made her breath
heavily
I lifted her leg up and pinned her against the wall
and felt all of her walls
as I pulled out and slid back in
all the way to the tip
to the base of my ****
she said does that feel good baby
I said yeah it's the best
she sent me pictures
of her *** and ****
and her pretty face
and I couldn't help but think
about how I wanted to take
my **** and go up in it
pull out
and *** all over her ***
and make her feel it
make her moan
make her legs shake
and vibrate
I want to make her ***** feel like
it's having a 7.1 earthquake
on the richter
I fixed her
she was stressed out
feeling uneasy
anxious
and an ****** relaxed her
gave her the endorphins she needs
to go about the rest of the week
let's **** baby
let's do it all night long
til we can't go anymore
and we're left laying on the bed
holding each other
laying sideways
with no pillows
forgetting about
how we usually sleep
and our bodies locked in
to each other
we're the same one another
we're a unit
together
******* not just for pleasure
but to satisfy our needs
and emotionally
doing each other good deeds
so we can go to bed
and get good sleep
and be better people
we're a strong couple
and we always know how to make the bed rumble
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
The strongest earthquake ever recorded was a 9.5 on the richter scale
the ground began to shake
quivering at first rattling the tea cups on the shelf until
buildings began to crumble like they were made from a deck of cards
falling to the ground into heaps of rubble
sometimes I feel like I am stuck under the rubble
weighing down on my chest
crushing the air out of my lungs
but I think somewhere along the line I got used to it
made peace with the fact that no one was going to find me
Aug 20, 2023
Aug 20, 2023 at 11:55 AM UTC
A Bountiful Sky for Foolish Old Men
early up, haunted-stoked~woked by a multilingual sky,
an impish childish creation of an immature god,
inconsistently incapable, of making up his moody mind,
whiny then smiley, cloudless besotted, morphed
into crystalline blue of a well behaved in Sunday best,
warming the souls of the begotten and the misbegotten,
the hardened and the poetic souls, tho he laughs at
himself, for he too is both, curmudgeon and a mr. softee,
whiny child in rapid aging body, wearing of discovery
of new places for to ache, pains that don’t fit med scales
of 1~10, unless it is the Richter Earthquake formulation.
despite all, his eyeballs seethe, immaculate degeneration still
allows the seeing of broad brush paint strokes of the team of
angelic artistes that do the detailing of the palette above,
how!
they, love their big bold brushes that sky swipe atmospheric
residue into 31 Baskin Robbins flavors, with swirls of caramel
chocolate butterscotch that make the man’s complaints whisked
into who-cares-a-damn anyway ice creamery reverie and all
that other stuff disbarred from the aborning morning clarity of
“good morning ole man, where’s my coffee” diurnal tuning that
the women hums, reminding those in the earshot crowd of one,
that s’mores and chores, tasks and at lasts, dogs need walking, gardens watering, cushions plumping, evening dishes moving from dishwasher onto wallpaper-covered shelves, geese-away-chasing, and loving poetry
by a poetoftheway scribbling…
8:01 AM Frieday, Jun 30
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 8:32 AM UTC
ABSOLUT 0!
the greedy trees
liked to bleed the green
to spite the leaves.
they seem to be
pretty pleased by
believing in a
definitive middle.
then **** soon
flew off the richter
cause it wasn't so simple,
1 to 3 easy.
when the police
beeped the gentry,
oil already leaked
on the scene
even though
hunting season
was ending.
&seeding; season
pleaded for
beginning
& forgiveness
for bearing false witness
to a new system called
self sufficience.
take one leave one
break one mean one
make one be one
of what.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
The world as we know it
doesn't exist, from an evening days ago,
unruly fog with the menacing arrogance
of a killer whale, skimming
in the shallow waters near the shore,
has made the world vanish
without any trace, how long it would last,
no one could hazard a guess, till now!
"Is it the end of the world?"
within closed doors people wonder.
1 But no 'bang' of any kind was heard
did anyone hear any suspicious 'whimper',
the weather women with a broad smile
and reassuring voice fails to tell us.
In this stormy night of primeval elements,
what exists for us is a continent of fear.
Shiver touching the highest recorded mark
in the Richter scale of fear, staring at a
dark night , bundled in white blanket,
all thing moving and static are kept frozen.
Blizzard, a drunken madman keeps on
inventing a cuss word different, a minute
hissing it in varying tunes and modulations.
I hear no drone of airplanes flying low
to take the landing approach
in the airport nearby, anymore
everything except the storm and snowfall
has come to a standstill,what the morning
will bring, who could tell?
Every heart will be heavy tonight,
if only 2 Stephen Hawking will lift
his cell phone for a minute,
this is the time to ask in hush hush tone:
"Does such unprecedented signals
points that God would play dice
negating the prophecy Einstein made"
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
The sun is out in Jacksonville
Me oh my goodness gracious alive
Now that the Richter scale has calmed down
I'm happy to say, we've all survived
Hoping from the beginning we'd go extra innings
And that our side would win
Between the Suns owner and the fans who are moaners
We are now the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp
So batter up you people
No need to be steamed it's just life
Though can you imagine the jokes from all of the folks
Might make us so boiling mad we could fry
And then there's the question of Southpaw
What's that mascot still doing here
I'm sure he can fetch but that's about it
Something smells fishy in this sailors beard
But I digress from where we should be
The theme is the name of the team
And I might be in hot water if I go any further
Without explaining what I really mean
Though you may not find
It very a-peel-ing
The way the owner did
In this fishy dealing
It might be to late but it's only a name
Try if you can to chow down on this
The teams still the same so come out to the games
No need for you to be so shellfish
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
#5 | 31 Poems for August 2016
I’m catching feelings, hope you don’t leave and go catch airplanes.
When the universe aligned, our paths and hearts were destined to collide.
You still give my comfort zone endless earthquakes; I wonder how much that is on the Richter scale.
Let me love you unconditionally regardless of how ugly your truths are.
In a sky full of constellations, you know that you’ll always be my favourite star.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s winter or summer, when you are the breeze I can never forget to breathe.
I’ve been digging the soles of my shoes into the ground just to keep myself steady and balanced.
I stood in the rain patiently awaiting your arrival but then, I eventually realised that you were the rain.
Looking forward to the day where your body and mine finally merge into one.
The day when we finally find home and we never ever feel alone because love is all around.
The day when we are able to look back at all the greatness we have both become.
Look me in my starry eyes and tell me that everything will be okay.
I can’t give you the world but I pray that you stay for more than just another day.
I’m Lonnie Lynn with the poetry, Marsha and Natalie with the Floetry.
So all you got to do is say yes if the question is, “Will you be mine from this day onwards?”
I don’t have much but I have you and with God on my side, how can I lose?
When the universe aligned, our paths and hearts were destined to collide.
I’m catching feelings, hope you don’t leave and go catch airplanes because my heart is really growing fond of you.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
Saturday morning yoga class for moms.
We go anyways.
Tremors in our wavelength, shaky hands, unsteady heartbeats.
Off the Richter,
Ashes to rain, rainy ashes, acid burns through our umbrellas, ellas, ellas, ellas.
Writing stories about the time we danced on the bar
Another drink tonight
Just one more drag; then I quit.
Then, I need another.
Things you promise I know you can’t keep
Bejeweled picture frames and tiny figurines
Heeby jeeby vibes from the hippie couple that freaks every one out
Guitar chords, strumming of my heart
We breathe smog and fog
Shortened breaths for shortened lives
Strange noises emerge from the next room
We emulate our favorite heroes past.
She changes her name to something androgynous
Because that’s how she feels.
And doesn’t want to get a pixie cut.
She won’t shut up from the next cubicle over.
She craves the attention, the validation from her stories
That she is one of us.
Swing the scissors around again, throw them to me.
Nothing makes sense.
I ordered another beer
Even though I didn’t want another.
Indulgence. Liquid indulgence.
Hailing the Porcelain God later.
Routine.
Soft smile
Swiveled me to the ground
Things are never the way you want them to be
So move away
Go home
Keep moving
If you stand still, you’ll start to feel something
Hum hum hum
Everything is Numb numb numb
Here is where the heartache is--
“If you loved me you would…”
No I wouldn’t.
You don’t know me at all.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
**It's the, highly lyrical, pinnacle breaking, mystical, miracle making, atypical poet slash prophet.
The tricky, sick trickster, mister, tongue-twister, off the scale, Richter, freedom dream fighter.
A bit unusual and, slightly delusional, it's indisputable, beautiful written poetry.**
*Words flow just like a novelette,
Make music like a castanet
A master of the alphabet,
Just tag that as my epithet.*
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
It whips you in the face
or carries a flighty leaf
like the tide of the wind
it varies
sometimes enshrouding
is its twisted volition
aftertimes a soothing caress
most times, which comes
amidst the debris
of guilt
and trepidation
and fear
and this is not a measure
of Richter but the abyss,
which is carved deep
and has the potential
to acknowledge
the possibility
fervently,
that this is not
an existential anomaly.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
You make me shake my bones like a magnitude 7 Richter scale earthquake.
I shiver as you touch my skin with your soft but wise fingers.
Your voice is like harmony to my ears, as my body follows your tune.
My mind goes in tune with yours.
My hairs sets on your face as I lay down next to you. It tickles you.
I start do dare you. I'm daring you to make us work. To make us happy.
You start smiling as you grab my hand and you join them as one.
You said you want to touch my soul and make me feel alive. I dared you, again.
I explained you how hard it was to make me feel alive, with my obscure soul.
«It's not impossible, I can make it happen, just let me.»
You started to go away from me but you stopped when I screamed.
I found myself whispering «I love you» with a big shy smile.
You united your lips with mine.
«I will make you feel happy and worth living. My love for you is true.»
For some long instants, you made me believe your words.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
There's no relationship Richter scale.
No level
One _____
Two ------
Three ^^^^^
Catastrophe.
There's no stopping these reverberations.
so seek shelter
until love can restart;
till you can find home
in a~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~still vibrating
heart.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 6:41 PM UTC
Like love
At first sight
I watched
Eden
bloom in your eyelids.
As my heart beat
Richter scales,
I was afraid the
weight of my breath would sound
earthquake
and break the
snow globes
in your eye sockets.
For the first time,
I wished everything would
freeze
in the moment our eyes met.
When our gaze broke I was
shook
so hard I could see my dreams floating in air,
like snowflakes
looking for a place to come true.
They found a home
on your fingertips
and some you even caught on your tongue.
Now gardens grow
in my cheeks when I sleep,
and every time
our eyes kiss I
drip
into the nooks and crannies of
your lips.
You built me
a snowman
out of blown kisses and
promised it wouldn't melt.
And I built you a cottage in my cornea.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Hey, Xavy:
If we're still here
When you get older,
Check out the potholes on my street;
Are we still planting telephone poles,
Accusing animals for sky blue holes?
Are there tourists in S.E. Asia;
Did Manhattan disappear?
Are people dying with different bodies,
Still thinking with their transplanted heads?
Do we build schools, did the shootings stop?
Is work still measured by the clock?
Do well-heeled shepherds still manage flocks?
Have you seen our fingers evolve,
Does anyone listen to voices at all?
When you get there, Xavy,
Take a look.
Did they heed the Richter scales,
The geo-thermal warnings,
The snow caps' warmings?
Does wildlife drink from Winter's brooks,
Is the soil capable of growth,
Does Spring herald re-birth?
Your spirit is indomitable.
No problem insurmountable.
Denial is unintelligible,
The sacrifice regrettable,
But no other choice acceptable.
And the legacy left remarkable.
Ah, Xavy, What I would give to be a small part of your unfolding world.
But I've got to go.
All the Best.
Granda
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
It’s my fault
I shouldn’t have found meaning in anything
I shouldn’t have believed any of your words that could implant hope
I shouldn’t have thought that you driving two hours to pick me up meant anything
I shouldn’t have seen any significance in your kiss
I shouldn’t have believed that sleeping together meant something
I shouldn’t have thought that you holding my hand meant anything
I shouldn’t have thought your telling me a happy ending to a story similar to ours meant love.
I shouldn’t have hoped that you would defy the world around us
I shouldn’t have trusted your words that said I was the only one you wanted to see
I shouldn’t have believed your honest eyes
I shouldn’t have thought you meant it when you said you missed me
I shouldn’t have been surprised when you ignored me
I shouldn’t have done any of these things
And I knew better
But it doesn’t change that my heart is breaking worthy of the Richter scale
And I shouldn’t let my world crumble before me, but
This feels like a force of nature under which I will be crushed.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
//so brace yourself, you know, you know//
I’m never gonna live you down
you’ve uprooted me //so look at me// you’re just as bad as I am
you’re the richter kid, you are, you are
you’re the sinking in my gut. I’ll pick your claws out of my skin if you
pick me up off the floor
**//do you think you sunk your teeth in me?
do you think I’ll stick around?//**
dear god I’ll scrub this thin skin off my face just to be rid of you
I swear
you’re the raptor boy, you are, you are
//did you leave your hands with me?//
are you just that hit and run boy now? just that kind of crude?
rip me up you know. I’ll fall to pieces. when I hit the floor
don’t run. don’t speak. put your hand on my waist
//I hate you//
am I too sick for you sweetheart? is my body all I’ll lose?
if you don’t care then I don’t either. I’m just as bad as you are
one hit k-o, you know, you know
it’s a ******* shame //take courage//
my guts are spilled on this tile floor but I’m still standing
//still don’t love you//
don’t look back, you know, you know. there’s nothing left of me
**//are we all this ******* tortured?
are you ripped apart like me?//**
you’re the golden boy, you are, you are
you’re just as bad as I am
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
i am not the girl your mother warned you about.
you know, the one with the pierced lip and a glare
that could start a fire during the monsoon season.
the girl whose arms are inky wings entwined with
weeds and paper chain reminders of past loves.
the girl whose name tastes like smoke on your lips
and whose report cards are littered with the one
letter that begins her most favorite swear word.
i am not the girl your mother warned you about.
the only relics that i carry on my body are scars
from playgrounds that kissed me back too hard.
my lungs consist of both words and silences,
neither of which i have found a way to control.
i am a few inches short of dangerous and about
nineteen years wiser than a pack of cigarettes.
your mother warned you about the girls who
are hurricanes, that will see your body as a stone
they can toss across the oceans without a second
glance. hearts going seventy miles an hour have
no time for regret. but there is always a sign
or a season that brings them; each one you meet
will be mapped out on a list of broken promises;
hazel, audrey, katrina. they won't let you forget.
but i am not a hurricane; i am a california earthquake
with a 7.8 on the richter scale of volatile personalities.
i will come without warning and dissolve the earth
into dust under your feet. there will be nowhere for
you to hide; your body will unravel into war with itself,
and your mother, wide-eyed, will wonder why you
let me in. but i know better. she taught you to train
your eyes to the sky when not even a seismograph
could pick out a heartbeat buried 1800 miles deep.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 6:10 AM UTC
Your lemon slice smile
Already a 4
I feel the tremor
Like sitting on a washing machine
Its turning under me
But I barely move
I see the balloon of your scream deflate around the room
6.3
I spread my legs for a crack in the floor.
Tap. Choke. Slap. Stroke.
8.9
The sun falls and shatters
Shards of light cut my knees
I’m under the table of my consciousness
My heart beats in seismic waves
I love you
I smelled the lies on your breath and they gave me a bruise
The feathers of my words choke me until I let them out
they cry like vultures around the decaying room
they pluck the lemon from your lips
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
Earthquakes every day, earthquakes every hour
A 12.0 in California...with fear you will now cower
Then there's New Madrid, but not to worry not to fret
Yellowstone will blow! And everything you can forget
But it ain't over 'till it's over, and it ain't over yet!
An asteroid will get you...do you twitch and sweat?
Everyone relax! Be happy with much glee
Our Government will save us...if it survives from WW3
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
I wonder what my life would be like if I could feel constant in-betweens.
Not scarlet or neon orange, but instead,
a warm, friendly wall of peach or something grey and familiar.
You always seemed to climb through my skin from the inside out,
clawing at reminders hanging from my limbs
to stop taking everything so seriously.
On hard days, I do not cry.
Thanks to you,
I spew lava from my eyes until it feels
as if my tears could burn entire highways
down the slopes of my cheeks,
my anger the epitome of a pyromaniac's paradise.
When I am afraid, I do not tremble.
Instead, I am a nine on the Richter scale,
a category-five hurricane of fear
that cannot be shaken away.
And like lightning striking the top of an oak tree,
the next moment I am filled with so much joy
that my heart begins to burst
into four-thousand yellow balloons
and learns how to fly away,
performing a salsa with the hummingbirds
and a waltz with the rays of sunlight
emerging from inside of me.
Never have I felt the calmness of the lake.
Instead, I harbor oceans within the crevices of my palms,
scraping out entire planets from the pupils of those
who have spent their entire lives feeling too little.
And thanks to you,
I wonder how my life would be
if I had been blessed with the capability to feel
just okay
just fine
just something other than
out-of-control.
But my heart keeps pumping
in tsunami waves rather than puddles,
and when I finally stumble upon peace,
it consumes me.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
A pity Yvonne alas has passed on in a most regrettable way.
She wasn't quite a snit cuz she jus couldn't ****
and hadn't been many a day.
So she sent Ernie out for enimas no doubt
and while he was still on the road,
Yvonne took a chance by dropping her pants while running toward the commode.
In a tangle of jeans, frustrated screams and a splintering bathroom door,
Her *** met the glass as intestinal gas burst forth with a thunderous roar.
The bowl couldn't take the force of the quake,
It rained down like porcelain Hail.
Some people say five miles away it hit six on the Richter scale.
I miss dear Yvonne, now that she's gone, taken from us much too soon.
Sometimes I cry as I gaze up in the sky and wave and she orbits the moon.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
half ring
a present, a thank you compliment by way of a poem, for the zealous, tiny, poetess spark who writes exquisitely and calls herself Cynthia Henon
~~~
strange old night-stands, a stained tan blonde wood
that's going ancient grey, but still handsome in a fitting way,
the front drawer hand painted floral in what I choose
to believe are by Italian hands in Italian reds and greens,
not so fancy as I make it sound, but worn and durable and
not overly functional but two silent, uncomplaining eye witnesses to a ten year ancient, greying love affair
wood ages, human eyes squint, failing to counteract the minute, advancing daily dimming, not paying close attention to the
Richter magnitude of the accumulated changes
the morning coffee ritual as catholic as morning mass,
a straw woven coaster to protect the sun blanched top,
hardly necessary, just a good habit, one of the rituals that glue,
that couples use to keep the coupling intact
the cumulative subtle changes, the crackling sound unheard, the cracks in everything, even in the human tissue,
breaking, the papered over filler of purposeful ignorance,
cannot forever resist the erosion of the cancer of the
taking for granted
place the coffee cup half on, half off the coaster, un-noticing,
leaving half a ring that will now never disappear, never be
completed, causing her to fly into rage that rips the
complacent band-aids, worn dikes that were holding back the barricaded tears, but the sea~see
level was always rising and though visible, the revelation remained unchosen
later that day, I drive away forever with Yo-Yo Ma riding shotgun,
in charge of map reading and consolation music, thinking
half ring, half ring, half ring, half ring,
an embolism of symbolism, good for a play on words,
and a couple of poems about uncoupling
8:22am 7/1/17
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 8:51 AM UTC
you were a perfect ten on the richter scale
there were no warnings about
the destruction you'd cause
no one was ever ready for you,
especially me.
loving you was like
kissing along the san andreas fault line
and praying i don't strike a nerve
loving you was like pretending
the splitting earth was only opening itself up to me
and not trying to bury me.
notice how the world shutters when it thinks of you
notice how there's cracks in everything you touched
notice how there's still parts of me buried beneath the rubble
somebody told me i needed to assess the damage
and all i could think about
was all those shattered picture frames.
the aftershock hits hardest in the places
that remind me of you
i still believe there's something beautiful about nature,
just not human nature -
just not your nature.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC
Have you ever had one of those days,
When nothing goes your way?
And the night is long with noises
Please don't tell my wife what I'm about to say
You see my wife snores
More than anyone I know
She even shakes the bed
Like a herd of buffalo
Sometimes even the neighbors
Will call and complain
They say it's just too much
And it's driving them insane
I've tried everything I know
But all I do is fail
She even registers a 4.0
On the earthquake richter scale
One night I even tried duct tape
And wondered what would happen
She just laid there and kept on snoring
'Til the duct tape started flappin'
But in my wedding vows
I said for better or worse
So I guess I'm gonna love her
And live this wedding vow curse
© All Rights Reserved
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 6:05 AM UTC