My lover's scent is nothing like the sun;
for the smell I long to taste is no longer
carried through the air
when his shadow flashes.
It is left inside the man whom I adore;
whose laugh is gentle
and smirk is no boredom.
His cheeks are as red as flowers can be;
his lips thin: a sensuousness men around me
bother not to have!
His growing legs are bare, full of whiteness
as a source of light
in the menacing dark of heavenly blackness.
His lines are coloured with warmth,
succession, profoundness, awe, and aspiration;
his breaths charmed with haste; lust;
and mature melodies from the song
I played.
His arms sturdy and robust and adorned
even when he is pained; pained by the faint shades of love
who dies in winter and wakes every summer.
But his eyes are heartbreakingly enticing;
such a lure on a fragile Sunday afternoon;
when the first glimpse of him was taken!
I will be yearning,
in my every following heartbeat,
for meeting him again..
Even in a world where everyone perished,
my lusted passion for him would never cease to exist..

Thank you
For the flashbacks
The recurring theme
The cursed motif
I hailed into the closet
From behind the sheets
I could not comprehend
The depression
Though I knew its extents
The contents
Of its origin
I could not mend
You lengthened the bend
Thank you
For setting fire to my heart
The ultimate pyre
I’ve been reborn
And forever shall your
Essence lift to the tops of trees
And, looking for breeze,
Sink instead to the dirt
And sweating leaves
Of parchment you shall never read
The scripture that strengthens
My soul-
The harmonies that have turned me
Inside out
And allowed me to see
My heart deformed
Reformed
You will rest in rot
Yellow
And
Decay
Thank you for
Dangling the wrench
Challenging me to endure
The extraction of teeth
I am removing
I am re
Moving
My love
And loyalty
And sensuousness
From the snares
Placed in vain
My veins run clean
I am recreating
A scene
A feature
A fissure
Between life
And death
I am
Fire
Rain
The original
Spring
I am swelling forth
And catching flies
I am making prints
On earth and sky
I am giving birth
To myself
I am here
Hear me,
Thank you
For throwing me down
The stairwell
And creating the echo
That woke me
And burned me
And washed me
Clean.

the storm
in her deep
and unceasing kisses
will bruise
my soul
But,
they will
leave behind
scars
that will
linger in me
the its
taste of
sweetness
tenderness with
searing
passion
and sensuousness

I am transformed
From my ego into your ego.
I am passive,
Existing outside myself.
My ego is also my non-ego.
I am you only
In so far,
As I am your sensuous being.
I'm your idea,
Taking on sensuousness,
When nothing real is permanent.
I'm here for
The realization of your aims,
In Omniscience,
In Omnipotence,
In Omnipresence.

She was only in the mid of her age
When her womanhood was in the prime
That her husband died, died in the bush
He was fighting guerrilla war, for freedom of his country
Freedom of fatherland Africa, when the snake sank its fangs,
The two deadly poisonous fangs in to the flesh of his thighs,
The puff adder poison overwhelmed his blood, he dropped dead,
His ***** instantly erecting with the last bullet,
Bullet of fertility which he had preserved for her,
To fertilize her egg for the last chance,
On which they could sire a child of freedom
And call it Uhuru, liberte, Freheit or Freedom,
She heard of it and she mourned, with deep grief
Fearing for her future life without the husband,
The only one, father of her five sons,
Him who broke her virginity in one afternoon
In the fields under the canopy of a bush thicket,
He broke her virginity with electric like energy
In the stiffness of his ***** African *****,
She wailed with sweetness of sensuousness
Clinking on his muscular and warm body,
Twinning her legs around his wonderful waist,
In libidinous foretaste of her soon wedding,
She remembers all these in cacotopian bitterness.

On getting news of his death, in the bush,
She swore to herself to remain pure till her death,
She kept on washing his clothes for years and years,
Preparing and preserving food for him every evening,
She often played *** with him in her sweet dreams,
She ironed his clothes and brushed his shoes for years,
He often came in the night, to give her baby talk,
She still wrote love letters to him via the address;
Po box, care of death in the city of his grave,
She did all these for decades after his death.

seducing a retina all flesh like
and curvatures, how can eyes feel
soft pink or taste desire oh
they do
in the dark just feeling
how do eyes feel?
In the dark sensuousness
the tenderness
eyes have their ways
no mystery is all this no
Fantasy, too
eyes are the entry
to the mind's
godlike way

I just stood there glued to a magnetic compass
that emanated from your eyes
to my crotch slowly rising
because you stared me down with that slant
and silly look that opened and shut
like a silky lipsticked kiss
that was stolen while your husband was busy watching
the Super Bowl of popcorn
cracking up the score.

No I was not guilty at all
Instead I felt for him like a brother
who just lost a squeezed lemon
**** with spoons of sugar
and a touch of vanilla lip-smacking
tongue touching sensuousness.
His games chalked up my own scores!

On the way home I knew
what you were thinking
because I could not resist a reverse
back to your place
but the lights were out
and the dog was snoring loose
the ***** tossing about
and I could not sing like Romeo
at anyone's balcony.

I went home and drew the boundaries
on my own property.

Author Notes
Oh! did I just own up?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month

She doth inspire me so gently
In her essential sensuousness
She fills me with hope so intently
As she soothes with whispered caress.



I’m empowered by her will for my being
To reach heights I could never believe
She aids my heart’s vision of what it is seeing
Keeping me focussed in my desire to achieve.



And when at the end of a very tiring day
When I’m worn from the travails of this life
I sit down by she who’s my muse everyday
She’s my friend, she’s my heart, she’s my wife.



©Joe Wilson – She doth inspire me so gently…2015

John Keats found sensuousness buried
And left it blooming in the sky!

I get a sensuousness
from certain molecules
taken in
another week
is ink
and skin
skin is the thing
that is in
do you have
any
oh the need
for skin is great

Yes, believe me you,
I (also considered the best karaoke singer
for the go-go's)
putting Shabrina Leonita to shame
back in two thousand and twenty one
once flew high as the eagles
a grateful dead foo fighting,
earth wind and fire, beastie boy adult,

thus hopefully explaining why
I joined blue oyster cult
begetting the following rhyme I exult
while exuding angelic,
beatific, electric, fantastic,
idyllic, Judaic, kaleidoscopic
halo shimmering galt
garnering heavenly indault.

Without wearing a helm mitt on my head,
yet did suffer inxs
of welts the size of cranberries
amidst talking heads, whose traffic
mishap of cars unable to stp,
thus this passenger indistinguishable from
avast metallica skidrow populated
with heart shaped pearl jam wreckage
upon smashing pumpkins everywhere
with an evanescence shimmering
like spilt midnight oil, which dire straits

charged the super ***** ping
man-made debacle into kiss
from grateful dead village people whose
beatle brows scrunched tight
creating black crows imprimatur
resembling little feet easily mistaken
for hair line fractures,
which strongly appealed to the goo goo dolls,
who lived three doors down
purportedly within which

resided a queen latifah
(an iron maiden ruling america and europe)
plus when asked for bread, she point
in one direction, mere rolling stones away
the black eyed peas, whose ac/dc power
crowded house did feel as if 10,000 maniacs
did squeeze into a tiny black hole,
thus forsaking experiencing nirvana,
with near asphyxiation attributable
to lack of air supply so carpenters got called

to expand and golong
with a gilt emblazoned cupola –
just for kix, and to lure
a silly rabbit doing trix
any wonder full stevie adore,
which teamsters included
skilled one tradesman
roof WinWrite, these collective souls,
a veritable culture club unto themselves
off phish shill lee within the a similar
reo speedwagon as sly and the family stone
choosing king crimson to manage the influx

qua motley crue, which jane's addiction
kept ideal bad company for alice n chains,
the latter whose enslavement
akin to cinderella deprived such indigo girls
to jet set with their sought after
prince charming (even resigning themselves
to a Jethro tull type), or a chap
similar to the garden variety allman brothers,
who didst serve as Lumineers
doobie brothers morale booster

to an imaginary dragon (which beastie boy
foo fighting animals owned
by the legendary kings of leon),
whose mythic storied
BuzzFeed  incorporated their encounter
with blondie (who donned a golden earring),
which Dixie chick happened to be hail a van
driven by the everly brothers,
which latter escaped be combing caged
like monkeys in a zoo,

and carved out a niche
as beach boys blessedly banished,
where they fed on red hot chili peppers
dredged via bay city rollers
to sustain their being a survivor,
and welcomed by experiencing rebirth
viz genesis, whar
mambo kings proffered palliative
to smooth kinks concomitant with cast off
as a foreigner on maroon 5.

Zealousness yowled x wise,
venturesomely urged viz thighs
sensuousness roared qua prize of nascent
marvelous libidinal kisses jeweled iridescent
hides genital fulfillment
explodes delicious capacious brides’
atonement breathtakingly conceding conception
decides elopement fashions gustatory hoopla
insides jot kickstarter
latching mightily nourishing oxides
maids visited  unmet
testosterone satiation roared.

The brothers Gibb
lit roches ****** madness
jumpstarting, mustering puckering,
snickering at barenaked lady
male fraud betraying faithful missus,
(a veritable madonna)
meowed lamentably
analogous to cat stevens
kindling joyousness indeed.

Hotmail garnered fingerhut egghead
drew capitalone BuzzFeed amen.

They won't tell you
It's orange or guava
They don't ask you
To buy them that
Tiny toy or shiny shirt
In the showcase
For none they are
Nuances or burden
Keats's sensuousness
Doesn't chram them
Still they move on
Though silently
With rainbow
On their faces
Masking every whiff
Of sobs or grief
To our nosey eyes
How swot, how illustrious, how cool
There is a wide space
Unoccupied in their hearts
And they know anticipation
Of caving is a self deceit
A silver partner,
Like their shadows,
Walks along with them
Each of their footfalls
Is worth praising
As they dishes out
Inspiration to broken hearts
That life is not lived as it is
But it is created and then lived
When it's comfort to us

of scorpion stinging poison us marriage,
whereby the missus and I
experienced genesis as
mama and papa respectively.

(jest kibitizing)

thus explaining why I
(a sixty five year young adult,
albeit beatle browed)
joined blue oyster cult
to live out my dream as
a Norwegian bachelor farmer
yours truly doth exult.

Without wearing a helm mitt on my head,
yet did suffer inxs
of welts the size of cranberries
amidst talking heads, whose traffic
mishap of cars unable to stp,
thus this passenger indistinguishable from
avast metallica skidrow populated
with heart shaped pearl jam wreckage
upon smashing pumpkins everywhere
with an evanescence shimmering
like spilt midnight oil, which dire straits

charged the super ***** ping
man-made debacle into kiss
from grateful dead village people whose
beatle brows scrunched tight
creating black crows imprimatur
resembling little feet easily mistaken
for hairline fractures,
which strongly appealed
to the goo goo dolls,
who lived three doors down
purportedly within which

resided a queen latifah
(an iron maiden ruling america)
plus when asked for bread, she point
in one direction, mere rolling stones away
the black eyed peas, whose ac/dc power
crowded house did feel
as if 10,000 maniacs
did squeeze into a tine hole,
thus forsaking experiencing nirvana,
with near asphyxiation attributable
to lack of air supply
so carpenters got called

to expand and golong
with a gilt emblazoned cupola –
just for kix, and to lure
any wonder full steve adore,
which teamsters included
skilled one tradesman
roof WinWrite, these collective souls,
a veritable culture club unto themselves
off phish shill lee within the a similar
reo speedwagon as sly and the family stone
choosing king crimson
to manage the influx

qua motley crue, which jane's addiction
kept ideal bad company for alice n chains,
the latter whose enslavement
akin to cinderella deprived such indigo girls
to jet set with their sought after
prince charming (even resigning themselves
to a Jethro tull type), or a chap
similar to the garden variety allman brothers,
who didst serve to Lumineers
doobie brothers morale booster

to an imaginary dragon
(which beastie boy
foo fighting animals owned
by the legendary kings of leon),
whose mythic storied
BuzzFeed  incorporated their encounter
with blondie (who donned a golden earring),
which Dixie chick happened to be hail a van
driven by the everly brothers,
which latter escaped be combing caged
like monkeys in a zoo,

and carved out a niche
as beach boys blessedly banished,
where they fed on red hot chili peppers
dredged via bay city rollers
to sustain their being a survivor,
and welcomed by experiencing rebirth
viz genesis, whar
mambo kings proffered palliative
to smooth kinks concomitant with cast off
as a foreigner on maroon 5.

Zealousness yowled x wise,
venturesomely urged viz thighs
sensuousness roared qua prize of nascent
marvelous libidinal kisses jeweled iridescent
hides genital fulfillment
explodes delicious capacious brides’
atonement breathtakingly conceding conception
decides elopement fashions gustatory hoopla
insides jot kickstarter
latching mightily nourishing oxides
maids visited  unmet
testosterone satiation roared.

Queefer madness puckering of naked missus
(a veritable madonna)
meowed lamentably kindling joyousness indeed.

Hotmail garnered fingerhut egghead
drew capitalone BuzzFeed amen.