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"sapid" poems
The night becomes you - hair coiffed in fashion illuminated eyes reveal attraction, the scent of body oil pervasive, ambient music evolves persuasive savory rhetoric, cabernet erodes my inhibition no contrition, turn the ignition. The night becomes you - you wear it well   an amalgam, ardor and insouciance - redefining glamour, ephemeral moments dial down the sunlight, I am slain - voice and accent weave their spell; black dust coat, white hat, a pair of posh boots they live to tell. The night becomes you rhyme scheme -  lyrical poetry sophisticated venue, table for two ensconced, the leather lounge, similitude within difference; undulation - cadences of counterpoint - poise and peril of duality we inhabit the floor. Postprandial, conversation extempore; machinations of intoxicating discourse, I could drink your words - artistic milieu- beguiling imagery, sonant susurrations penetrate my being. The night becomes you - theoretical locutions phrasing depth and humor, undiluted amour, tensions resolve frame by frame, solidify the affair and validate the rumor subsumed in sequence, pulsating, igniting the sapid interior flame silver screen ending, effusive reviews two hearts collide and form one; the cherub's arrow finds its aim. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Night Becomes You
I was like the jungle king, She was like the jungle queen, She was running **** Except wearing those flowers, And I was wearing the waves, That kissed me otherwise **** All those strange creatures on the beach, They all ignored us for burning together, Burning for sin, Craving for sin, Like the reptiles being swallowed by their dens, The **** of a man, Kissing the pit of a woman, The evolution of thirst, The *********** of burst, Everything protected by the transparent curtains of water. She was like the jungle queen, I was like the jungle king, I was ******* her crude, Except my censored spermatozoon blushing out, And she was nowhere to consume, My sapid feelings in her faked frame.
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 3:38 AM UTC
Red Gingers
Let us lay in endless greens, and symbiotically allow the day A simple spinning about the omphalos of heart’s creation I want to feel the rapturous entanglement of our atoms Bursting in fruition as melismatic chiming sighs And in this becoming, vernal musings with parameters repealed, We glimpse an eternal oculus by sapid lips shared In this essence chased through time and captured by the instance Your quantum passion yearns toward the receptacle of prophecy I, the oracle form a forecast in rhythm’s ***** To find that the plexus of forever pulsates beneath your skin and mine
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
Monk Queen (Anahata)
Translucent is my skull and the fluid surrounding my brain You can poke and **** At all the films Flying through my mind Dust off the caves deep inside I like to say I'm illimitable But you are sublime We're sapid when it comes To the deepest depth of Introspection and Atypical ways of life Representing us is A picture of a tree in each Season Our limbs naked one moment And filled the next Fragility hasn't just become An adjective to describe us It's become part of our Personalities And when you're away I'll have to sway alone Missing you Even when the sun is shining The clouds are raining Or isolating us In snow
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Correlation
Felled canvas, blushing colors my life’s stitch ceaselessly applied What portrait stretches and looms it’s casement to my soul? If all deeds behold with no aid of cloak, for sins sore shame to hide? Needle pricked fingers recount thy yarn. Shall I gaze upon a short winged angel, laced in gutters, where sensuality is defined? How skillful the likeness of my windblown heart? What shades of scarlet ooze that aching part? Will I hesitate looking at past reckless deeds? Woven with flare but so careless of needs. Does smugness suspend me in self sapid stitches and ghost like thread for inches and inches? How large the spool my decent breadth hold, done in shimmering shades, subtended in gold? Dare I hope it be worthy to admire when shown? Humble glory, my life, hung behind a King’s throne?
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Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Tapestry
O' beauty fish! whose scales shine the upper sea: The fins that push a wide abyss In colours that forever ream Of red and blue and purple-ness And further waves of tangerine. The sapid hops of beauty fish And all the rainbow in the sea.
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Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 5:27 PM UTC
Beauty Fish