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"shacking" poems
Got the kids and stopped ******* Four times a year you get ******* Forcing yourself for my pleasing Truth is that you **** at ******* Leaving me always for fapping So many years still not knowing At least do a bit of upskilling Go online and get on reading Use videos if you prefer watching My cues are also worth listening: - Comment as you're tasting - Time to time pause for starring - Be generous with licking - Also do a bit of ********* - Do not finish up spitting - Kiss me if not swallowing If you can't handle the praising Let's instead do some facesitting Head slotted onto your opening A lesson on oral I'll be teaching Devouring until you let go shacking Anyway, in parallel, ************ Get those pleasure juices flowing To see you orgamiscaly smiling
0
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 2:47 AM UTC
You **** at *******
I need a hug, but not a quick, lazy hug during which the touch feels like less of a comforting gesture, but more of an awkward happening with limp arms hanging like gigantic weights, pulling you into the floor. Not one where you aren't ever really sure if you should hang on for just a moment more, or if you should let go, and release into an uncomfortable silence that lasts until someone coughs hesitantly. The sound reverberating through the atomosphere, leaving a heavy draft of atypical embarrassment at the contact, waiting for someone else to bring up some random topic of discussion to break the icy and heavy silence. No. I need a real hug. The kind where someone who loves you see your pain even though you might not say anything. Reading the waters behind your smiling eyes, seeing the hidden hurt behind your irises, they grab you, perhaps by your slightly shacking shoulders, and pull you into their warm encasement. Holding you tightly and safely in their care. And the two of you just hang onto this affectionate moment of profound concern among brethren of a species The kind where time seems to stop in admiration of this subtle outpouring of unified allegiance before which the universe bows. I need the kind of hug that demonstrates a fierce loyalty. Devotion that knows should the object of such intense friendship fall into the pit, from whence none return unscathed in some way, they will throw down a rope a foothold a salvation, and they will pull that person from the depths of the darkness maybe even at the risk of falling in themselves. Yes. That is the kind of esoteric gesture that can be so impactful on those in pain, regardless of whether that pain be great or small. And should you find that you receive love like that, treasure it. And should you find that you give love like that, never forget how special and rare someone like you is.
0
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 8:20 PM UTC
Simple Gestures of Kindness
I need a hug, but not a quick, lazy hug during which the touch feels like less of a comforting gesture, but more of an awkward happening with limp arms hanging like gigantic weights, pulling you into the floor. Not one where you aren't ever really sure if you should hang on for just a moment more, or if you should let go, and release into an uncomfortable silence that lasts until someone coughs hesitantly. The sound reverberating through the atomosphere, leaving a heavy draft of atypical embarrassment at the contact, waiting for someone else to bring up some random topic of discussion to break the icy and heavy silence. No. I need a real hug. The kind where someone who loves you see your pain even though you might not say anything. Reading the waters behind your smiling eyes, seeing the hidden hurt behind your irises, they grab you, perhaps by your slightly shacking shoulders, and pull you into their warm encasement. Holding you tightly and safely in their care. And the two of you just hang onto this affectionate moment of profound concern among brethren of a species The kind where time seems to stop in admiration of this subtle outpouring of unified allegiance before which the universe bows. I need the kind of hug that demonstrates a fierce loyalty. Devotion that knows should the object of such intense friendship fall into the pit, from whence none return unscathed in some way, they will throw down a rope a foothold a salvation, and they will pull that person from the depths of the darkness maybe even at the risk of falling in themselves. Yes. That is the kind of esoteric gesture that can be so impactful on those in pain, regardless of whether that pain be great or small. And should you find that you receive love like that, treasure it. And should you find that you give love like that, never forget how special and rare someone like you is.
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50
He was up late again, reading one of his many comic books, when he heard the usual scratching at the back porch. So engrossed in his title, the youth ****** from his chair and crept toward the window. A band of large masked creatures scurried off into the gloomy, moonless night. The boy thew on his coat and grabbed a flashlight and camera as he headed out onto the back porch. He glanced at one of the raccoons just as he scampered into the gigantic black berry bush below his field. The boy decided to take a closer look. He started to move toward the giant bush below his field when he suddenly tripped over something on the ground. As he across to his feet, he noticed a small door covered with branches and dirt. He brushed away the ******* and stared at the small door in the ground. With out much thought, he put his shacking hand to the handle and slowly opened the door. Hundreds of tiny stairs led their way to a huge room, miles wide and long, but only about four feet high. The room was quiet, he was about to scream when he heard the same scratching noise that was at his back porch, only this sound was louder. The boy slowly turned. His heart pounding in his chest; his body like steel iron. Then, a sudden hush goes over the whole room. He opened his eyes to meet a four foot raccoon staring at him. The animal lifted his head to the boy and whispered, "tag, your it!"
0
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
The Thief In The Night
Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... the neighbors voices climbing out of windows left and right. Is that you Tito? Put down those pots and pans. Make better use of those hands. Don't you know those hands were made for working? Follow your father to his factory grave shift, Make razorblades to sell. We'll always have hair on our faces. Is that you Tito? Knock off that racket. Here I am trying to sleep And you've got my feet to moving. The night was made for dancing Tito, And dancing was made for Harlem, But that's bastante on a Wednesday mijo. The young king packs up his studio, Whistling dixie like she's never been whistled before. Twirling the melody from royal lips, Showing her how to use those God given hips. Where did you find that groove you in your neck? And do the words Puerto Rico still give you the chills? You have walked on too many streets in New York City And the Afro-beat is shacking up with the Cuban. You can hear their children playing in the barrio allá, And aquí they're blowing horns of imagination. Make those wooden sticks tap your telegram, Tito. Let the world know about this message brewing inside you. They hate. They yell. They love to see you dancing, But your ankles told you that wasn't right for you. Your hands never have been able to keep still. Maybe it's because they feel the future. Do you realize where your bridge will lead? You are the future Tito. Do what you got to do to be where you got to be. Play in Uncle Sam's band but don't you go to Normandy. Follow your hands back to the big apple, Take a bite out of this place they call Juliard. When you sleep at night are they still screaming… Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go somewhere where the floor is on fire With the fusion of jazz and samba. Make it bigger Tito until it looks like it did in your dreams. Pick up those sticks and mata los timbales. Have the decency to wink when they name you king. What is it that you mixed in that *** Your alchemy giving birth to new species. Have mercy Tito. Your music is feasting on the ears of the public, Your hands are drumming on the ecosystem. They call it salsa, and you laugh Because they can't taste the carne. Shine those pots and pans. Tip your hat to Spanish Harlem, Where windows stay open to let the dreamers dream big And the red brick walls are soaked with memories. Babarabatiri Tito, Teach the world how to dance. Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... a legend.
0
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
Tito 18/30
Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... the neighbors voices climbing out of windows left and right. Is that you Tito? Put down those pots and pans. Make better use of those hands. Don't you know those hands were made for working? Follow your father to his factory grave shift, Make razorblades to sell. We'll always have hair on our faces. Is that you Tito? Knock off that racket. Here I am trying to sleep And you've got my feet to moving. The night was made for dancing Tito, And dancing was made for Harlem, But that's bastante on a Wednesday mijo. The young king packs up his studio, Whistling dixie like she's never been whistled before. Twirling the melody from royal lips, Showing her how to use those God given hips. Where did you find that groove you in your neck? And do the words Puerto Rico still give you the chills? You have walked on too many streets in New York City And the Afro-beat is shacking up with the Cuban. You can hear their children playing in the barrio allá, And aquí they're blowing horns of imagination. Make those wooden sticks tap your telegram, Tito. Let the world know about this message brewing inside you. They hate. They yell. They love to see you dancing, But your ankles told you that wasn't right for you. Your hands never have been able to keep still. Maybe it's because they feel the future. Do you realize where your bridge will lead? You are the future Tito. Do what you got to do to be where you got to be. Play in Uncle Sam's band but don't you go to Normandy. Follow your hands back to the big apple, Take a bite out of this place they call Juliard. When you sleep at night are they still screaming… Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go somewhere where the floor is on fire With the fusion of jazz and samba. Make it bigger Tito until it looks like it did in your dreams. Pick up those sticks and mata los timbales. Have the decency to wink when they name you king. What is it that you mixed in that *** Your alchemy giving birth to new species. Have mercy Tito. Your music is feasting on the ears of the public, Your hands are drumming on the ecosystem. They call it salsa, and you laugh Because they can't taste the carne. Shine those pots and pans. Tip your hat to Spanish Harlem, Where windows stay open to let the dreamers dream big And the red brick walls are soaked with memories. Babarabatiri Tito, Teach the world how to dance. Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... a legend.
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78
*His lips press against my neck My hair stands on end and my fists clinch tight His arms rap around my chest like a straitjacket He is rough in all the right ways He pushes me against the wall His breath warms the back of my neck I feel him slowly turn me around to face him His soft hands wrap around my waist so gently I look deep into his light brown eyes His eyes pull me toward him like an inescapable gravitational field The space between us grows ever smaller My mind is racing at the speed of light Our lips touch for the first time My mind freezes My body goes numb and is then filled with a warming since of passion and love Are lips feel like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together I finally understand what the perfect kiss feels like This perfect moment is stopped by a screeching noise followed by a bone shacking vibration I wake up to my life and get ready for work* -Jeffrey Sutter
0
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
Perfect Kiss
I have spent most of my twenties, living out of suitcases and shacking up with madmen. A gypsy, on an eternal search for four walls, that smell of fresh paint. And a warm body--- to press against mine, if only (and usually) temporarily. As the months pass by in my fancy, new cage--- I become restless, stifled and stagnant. I’m a like a leaf on a branch, waiting to blow aimlessly in the wind and a footprint, waiting to embed itself into the soil of places I haven’t yet walked. I am a pair of eyes waiting to penetrate their gaze, onto the symmetrical features, of foreign faces, I haven’t yet seen. I am a nomad, who cannot grasp, the conception of home. All I know how to do is pack my bags and           keep                          moving.
0
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Vagabond
Stress ticks over inside of me, as if mechanically part of me! And these shacking hands be that of a chronometer! How many times have i heard, “It will all be ok!” I think much kinder words have been spoken! As if they hold no part of this drastic itinerary! Then! Mindfully i say! COPE! BREATHE Smell take it all in! Its not all decay! There are roses too! Listen Oh, hear the beautifull song as the sparrow gayly chirps, his thanks to life! Sight! Open my eyes! Drink in all its beauty! Touch! Feel the world with all my senses! As air rushes over me! Its all alive! And I’m part of this great creation! Im alive! Oh Thank you Jesus! ©️
0
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Appreciation Is To Get Me there!
Crackle of light, Shacking with fright. Beaming white, Eliminating the night. Nothing remains, My life drains. Everything fades, I search for aides. It's all gone away, The words I want to say. The only thing left, The one thing no one can theft. My still beating heart, My last part. It still belongs to you, Something I can't undo.
0
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 8:55 PM UTC
Still Yours
I said, the "I do" in terms of my confirmation of love for you. Oh, like many that's afraid to honestly commit. I could have settle for us living together for beneficial means. While honestly knowing if another interested me. I could score and play and enjoy the fun of their joy. And like many states, "we not totally together." But I confirmed my heart, my soul, my spirit unto you. To for you ALL the things a spouse should do. Yes, my confirmation was sealed in marrying you. I have yet, to understand the shacking up theory scheme. Where you hear" we're not ready for the big step?" But co-habilate together in passion and pleasure. Than cop out when inquired ,why no marriage?" As much as a woman might say she don't want marriage. More likely she won't ever see a ring. But my confirmation were in loving you enough to be one together forevermore.
0
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
Confirmation
Listen, I’m throwing hands like sonny Liston cause money glistening Mommies whispering, that’s funny business Ye. I put you on my **** list, dude got me twisted From downtown, when I wrist it Ballistics saying that these people shouldn’t of risked it. Yawl didn’t get the memo, **** you dudes must have missed it. Hitting targets dead on, shattering your holistic That ***** articulate, with a pistol whip, sinking ships. You bacon bits, I go HAMM, then I’m taking chips Smoking clips with a Jamaican grip, Black *** with a Caucasian lip That’s a probation chic, yawl mad cause she caught in the grasp Expose ****** who be sporting a mask Call the coroner fast, throwing bows like my arm in a cast Night Night then it’s all in the past Don’t bring it up ***** don’t even ask, trying to put me on blast Dog I put you on *** it be hella fast. Man I’m sending you a telegraph. I just keep thriving to a point past surviving Always had the secret weapon I just kept in in my lining On a uprising, Titanic when I capsize it. Man you swimming with sharks, I’m smooth like sound of a harp In the shape of a heart, on the mark. Cupid arrows, why you playing with darts, same from the start I just finished the spark, how you gone start the fire In the middle of dark, bite start with a bark Try shaking him off, like shacking a cough Shaking the north, down south, but flavor is raw. ***** left cause he south paw, south poor Like a ***** up north, wasn’t born with a silver fork Always went for the gold, ***** gold was the top of the goals Popped out the ****** on top of my toes Mom didn’t know, she was breaking the mold
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
**Metaphorically RiCH**
Listen, I’m throwing hands like sonny Liston cause money glistening Mommies whispering, that’s funny business Ye. I put you on my **** list, dude got me twisted From downtown, when I wrist it Ballistics saying that these people shouldn’t of risked it. Yawl didn’t get the memo, **** you dudes must have missed it. Hitting targets dead on, shattering your holistic That ***** articulate, with a pistol whip, sinking ships. You bacon bits, I go HAMM, then I’m taking chips Smoking clips with a Jamaican grip, Black *** with a Caucasian lip That’s a probation chic, yawl mad cause she caught in the grasp Expose ****** who be sporting a mask Call the coroner fast, throwing bows like my arm in a cast Night Night then it’s all in the past Don’t bring it up ***** don’t even ask, trying to put me on blast Dog I put you on *** it be hella fast. Man I’m sending you a telegraph. I just keep thriving to a point past surviving Always had the secret weapon I just kept in in my lining On a uprising, Titanic when I capsize it. Man you swimming with sharks, I’m smooth like sound of a harp In the shape of a heart, on the mark. Cupid arrows, why you playing with darts, same from the start I just finished the spark, how you gone start the fire In the middle of dark, bite start with a bark Try shaking him off, like shacking a cough Shaking the north, down south, but flavor is raw. ***** left cause he south paw, south poor Like a ***** up north, wasn’t born with a silver fork Always went for the gold, ***** gold was the top of the goals Popped out the ****** on top of my toes Mom didn’t know, she was breaking the mold
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31
I want you not in a abstract sorta way but in every way there is this on going thing we have undefined unknown far from being untrue and it hurts it does hurt to feel you emotionless distant my pride wont let me touch your gentle skin that very same skin that I crave desire and dream of but no not again I will not just give in your words linger on my hands in my heart on my lips even though we've never ever kissed maybe in a dream once or in a thought twice that everlasting kiss leaving you breathless leaving me drained but aching for more gasping as if air exists only when our tongues collide but no you're there I'm here far apart but my knuckles are shacking just at the thought of holding your hand and my eyes are crying just at the thought of a glimpse of your face and my lips are trembling just at the thought of that imaginary kiss I want that feeling to go away leave my haunted mind my haunted body my haunted soul but your ghost is floating around me and it hurts.. it does truly sincerely literally utterly hurt.
0
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 7:59 AM UTC
Untitled
I have a nasty habit of dropping pieces of myself on other peoples doorsteps, leaving frigernails and stray hair inside their post box. I always give a part of my skin to strangers on the street because maybe someone else can love it more than me. And I rely on broken teeth and bottomless pits to decide how whole I really am. So I set up camp inside their bones because I've never been one to know what home feels like and I thought I could manifest inside sink holes for hearts but it only made me fade to black. I wanted to make peace with the torment in my head, *but then the flood came and sailed away the only bed I could ever sleep in.* And I wanted to hold onto the idea of making bonfires in the small confines of their back but people don't take kindly to being shelter for a storm that never dies. I come with *lightening strikes and hurricanes* in a three pocket backpack and knock on the doors of those whose mother never held their hair back when they cried. People are tempory, in every meaning of the word. They crack and they crumble just like me but the wreckage of them always seems to land right beside my shacking knees and I sift through the rubble because I've never been one to let go of things too easily. I burn alongside the people that I love and I let them spit out their sparks upon my neck and I rub their ash into my flesh and I scream when I get burnt because I forget that they were burning when we met *and I was bound to get a little ****** in the end.*
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
Arsenic
I have a nasty habit of dropping pieces of myself on other peoples doorsteps, leaving frigernails and stray hair inside their post box. I always give a part of my skin to strangers on the street because maybe someone else can love it more than me. And I rely on broken teeth and bottomless pits to decide how whole I really am. So I set up camp inside their bones because I've never been one to know what home feels like and I thought I could manifest inside sink holes for hearts but it only made me fade to black. I wanted to make peace with the torment in my head, *but then the flood came and sailed away the only bed I could ever sleep in.* And I wanted to hold onto the idea of making bonfires in the small confines of their back but people don't take kindly to being shelter for a storm that never dies. I come with *lightening strikes and hurricanes* in a three pocket backpack and knock on the doors of those whose mother never held their hair back when they cried. People are tempory, in every meaning of the word. They crack and they crumble just like me but the wreckage of them always seems to land right beside my shacking knees and I sift through the rubble because I've never been one to let go of things too easily. I burn alongside the people that I love and I let them spit out their sparks upon my neck and I rub their ash into my flesh and I scream when I get burnt because I forget that they were burning when we met *and I was bound to get a little ****** in the end.*
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75
Steaming body, heat stops the rain from falling. Run far far away my thoughts kept telling me. I reach you're door, the bell rings three time, Dig...dig...dig... I am shacking and nervous. Unwillingly the door opens with a screeching hiss. I entered when told to, the home ever so quite. Voices all around me but unable to recognize a voice. I would reach out for help but fait has already been sealed. A book left open with names of those I don't know. Where am I and why am I here. Flowers ever so beautiful lay in the corner. The sent of a garden I used to water once a week. Everyone is dressed so nice but what is the occasion. I woman kisses me on the cheek and holds my hand. She apologizes for a reason I do not know. The sun was shinning like a beautiful woman's smile. Tears fall to the floor as if a tittle wave hit. Confusion clouds my mind, frustrated I have become. I need to leave but something beneath the flowers holds me back. Grabbing apon me, please let me turn back! I am frightened, angry, and overwhelmed! Please take me home! I cower like a child. I close my eyes and wish this all to go away! I mustered up the courage to open my eyes. As my eyes opened from what it felt like to be an ever lasting darkness. My heart stoped beating as I knew where I was. Looking down apon you laying ever so still. Cold at the touch of you're skin. Inable to open your eyes. Shame fills my body. I'm sorry.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
I am weak.
Four days before tomorrow a boy was sitting at youth group It was dark and he could see billions of stars He heard the deep voice of his Pastor asking the kids to look up He wanted them to realize that looking up is not just literal By looking at the beauty of the cosmos they could also see God The Pastor explained how we as humans don't look up enough; not to God He said to the kids and the boy: "You know, the world is a really heavy place. Every day a new pressure is placed upon humanity. This weight prevents us from looking up to God It turns us away. Others it pushes them to their knees, They sit there and pray And pray And pray But they can't get up" The boy glanced up and saw that his Pastor had a guitar out The Pastor asked his students to rise to their feet to praise. He strummed some soothing cords and he praised God They raised their voice to the heavens and sang to God together The Pastor spoke in between his songs. He asked his students He asked them to raise their hands He asked them to look to the sky and Praise He asked them to sing each song as a prayer When they were all sat down the Pastor asked them a question. He asked: "Why, did I have you raise your hands" All of them were quite for a minute. Then the boy said something. He said: "We raised our hands to hold up the sky. We used our hands to hold up the pressure of the world, and we prayed to God for help." The boy, empowered by the butterflies in his heard. She shivers in his skin. The clearness of his sight. He added: If the whole world raised their hands for praise, All the world's pressure could end "We could raise our hands in church In mosque's In synagogue's In our homes Then nobody would have to fight Nobody would have to starve Nobody would have to shiver Nobody would be alone" Shacking the boy sat down The silence that followed was absolute The air was pressure free The sky was clear The stars were bright.
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
To look up to God
Four days before tomorrow a boy was sitting at youth group It was dark and he could see billions of stars He heard the deep voice of his Pastor asking the kids to look up He wanted them to realize that looking up is not just literal By looking at the beauty of the cosmos they could also see God The Pastor explained how we as humans don't look up enough; not to God He said to the kids and the boy: "You know, the world is a really heavy place. Every day a new pressure is placed upon humanity. This weight prevents us from looking up to God It turns us away. Others it pushes them to their knees, They sit there and pray And pray And pray But they can't get up" The boy glanced up and saw that his Pastor had a guitar out The Pastor asked his students to rise to their feet to praise. He strummed some soothing cords and he praised God They raised their voice to the heavens and sang to God together The Pastor spoke in between his songs. He asked his students He asked them to raise their hands He asked them to look to the sky and Praise He asked them to sing each song as a prayer When they were all sat down the Pastor asked them a question. He asked: "Why, did I have you raise your hands" All of them were quite for a minute. Then the boy said something. He said: "We raised our hands to hold up the sky. We used our hands to hold up the pressure of the world, and we prayed to God for help." The boy, empowered by the butterflies in his heard. She shivers in his skin. The clearness of his sight. He added: If the whole world raised their hands for praise, All the world's pressure could end "We could raise our hands in church In mosque's In synagogue's In our homes Then nobody would have to fight Nobody would have to starve Nobody would have to shiver Nobody would be alone" Shacking the boy sat down The silence that followed was absolute The air was pressure free The sky was clear The stars were bright.
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49
My breath is heavy my hands are shacking my rifle in my arms I am no longer in control i move on instinctive movements, i **** a man all that goes through my mind is again, again, again more blood splashes my face my hand stops trembling my enemy screams in terror his friend don't help, the screams stop Silence... dead Silence, i hear the enemy i here there gasps of air, the feet moving,... there heart beating I got pushed, my whole family dead, its just me, I was pushed...killing is as easy as breathing..
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 2:18 AM UTC
Blood Drunk
Would I So I trickled out if your life As water through a spring Smoothing over the points and rocks alone An adventure I didn't give you another thought You were irrelevant to me I told myself this religiously Just someone I used to know Until now that is Now I've done everything I wanted Traveled the world Now your everything I need Standing in front of me Funny how life turns the tables so easily Do you remember how it used to be with us Yes, we used to be In love Is that what you call it I remember it differently than that I remember never knowing So I ask a question that's lingered forever Would I of been your wife if I'd stayed Yes this is all you need to say The bitter weathers beating at your cheeks The air now almost too cold to breath Leaves crisp underfoot This revelation will destroy me yet I'm just passing through I say Trying to hide the injustice Of watching you play with your wedding ring I'm just passing through This Certain clarity I see Is Soul destroying My island Carved out of the consequences of my decisions Starts shacking I feel it swaying, I see it starts sinking I was safe here until this evening The birds start flying The fish swim deep Nature scarpers emotions erupting My island was tropical once Now it's an iceberg The revelation of this truth Ignites our old youth My lake starts rippling, from indecisions Confusion Settling in As you did love me in the end I remember the enormity of the hoping Not knowing Was soul splitting It was easier to leave you than not knowing So I went traveling Stumbling until i got used to the terrain We were children One tiny decision changed everything I started mapping out my future Carving you out of the paper island We were so young Brought up on summer sun Dry grass under foot The way it always got Warm nights you no longer get the world was a different place then than it is All that was certain your not loving me Your not caring Scared of saying The simplest sentance Has brought us to this moment All i was sure of Now means nothing I'm just passing through I say After all its Christmas Ill be gone by new year You can go back to pretending your wife is the love of your life I don't say this aloud I was nothing I'm just passing through I say As nothing can be changed
0
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
Would I
Would I So I trickled out if your life As water through a spring Smoothing over the points and rocks alone An adventure I didn't give you another thought You were irrelevant to me I told myself this religiously Just someone I used to know Until now that is Now I've done everything I wanted Traveled the world Now your everything I need Standing in front of me Funny how life turns the tables so easily Do you remember how it used to be with us Yes, we used to be In love Is that what you call it I remember it differently than that I remember never knowing So I ask a question that's lingered forever Would I of been your wife if I'd stayed Yes this is all you need to say The bitter weathers beating at your cheeks The air now almost too cold to breath Leaves crisp underfoot This revelation will destroy me yet I'm just passing through I say Trying to hide the injustice Of watching you play with your wedding ring I'm just passing through This Certain clarity I see Is Soul destroying My island Carved out of the consequences of my decisions Starts shacking I feel it swaying, I see it starts sinking I was safe here until this evening The birds start flying The fish swim deep Nature scarpers emotions erupting My island was tropical once Now it's an iceberg The revelation of this truth Ignites our old youth My lake starts rippling, from indecisions Confusion Settling in As you did love me in the end I remember the enormity of the hoping Not knowing Was soul splitting It was easier to leave you than not knowing So I went traveling Stumbling until i got used to the terrain We were children One tiny decision changed everything I started mapping out my future Carving you out of the paper island We were so young Brought up on summer sun Dry grass under foot The way it always got Warm nights you no longer get the world was a different place then than it is All that was certain your not loving me Your not caring Scared of saying The simplest sentance Has brought us to this moment All i was sure of Now means nothing I'm just passing through I say After all its Christmas Ill be gone by new year You can go back to pretending your wife is the love of your life I don't say this aloud I was nothing I'm just passing through I say As nothing can be changed
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She makes me sick Her lips are like poison and i cant get enough Each kiss gets me a bit closer to closure with the fact she's not really mine Maybe its just whats left on her lips the whisky got us tipsy and were making mistakes making out on the couch just because we can she tells me were just friends but we begin to dig into each others skin she's driving me crazy then with a few more shots everything gets fuzzy the smacking of our lips begin to stop next thing i knew we were shacking up, But is this really okay aren't we just friends? This cant be true? I dont know but i cant think straight and im pretty sure she cant either i try to stop but the flow of our bodies are just saying go at it, The next morning as i wake up i realize shes gone a note in her place saying shes sorry for the one nighter and that when shes drunk she cant control herself so i just try to avoid contact for a while and the desire to do so is killing me So i call her.... She answers.. and its all okay were still friends till the end.. which is whenever i can end it because in all reality i cant do this she's either mine or no ones at all...
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:52 PM UTC
One Night Stand
Twin type of lines they see a Pen and start writing, creating many Words that letters come out rushing. Holding onto your Imagination this pen is alive Heart Beat Blushing, Depression touched it, could you ever trust it? As My Eyes watched your whole world fade away, like a Mirage in a desert, sand games the sun would play. Blue skies with no Stars small trees searching for shade, I’m as nerves as a Tear Drop that’s about to be caught by a smile. My stomach is filled with Butterfly’s that have no were to hide, I’m shacking like a cloud that’s filled with Thunder, that’s about to bite. I’m sweating like The Desert in the summer time, that has seen a mirage late at night. I tell myself to be yourself because everyone is already taken, if words had no meaning and, Letters stopped Speaking. Reality would fade away into a Lost Dream searching for some meaning. Jidos Reality 19.4.13
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
Jidos Reality
The world is in stage of insanity Practically it is crazy Heaven and earth shacking So many un-answer questions, that I finally Deceived to sit down with Reality With a paper and pen to take notes, I was ready As he began to speak, my ear opened My eyes widened and I was focus His voice was full of pain consumed in sadness To understand the present and future is to understand the past From the beginning, he started I was curious to what Reality, had to say, I was hooked From His eternal Palace God decided to create Something out of empty space The invasion of His spoken Word and His presence Created time and matter within the empty space insistence With His Word, God created the universe The animals and separated the ocean's All within days one through six But, we were molded by His hands for a purpose He breathed the breath of life into us Created in His image, pure, naked and perfect He was the first surgeon Out of the ribs of men God made the women So that by their seed the earth will be inhabited He gave us free will as a love token We are not made to be robots So that our love towards Him will be genuine not forces As His love is towards us With a choice comes the test You may eat off any tree accept The tree of good and evil He said Obedience to His comment brings life Disobedience to His comment brings death They were placed in the garden That's where everything began The stage was set To be continued....
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC
Conversation with Reality - Part 1
On those dimly lit streets, We walked together for the first time. Talked about our lives, Our hopes, our dreams. Nervously I reached out, Shacking I grasped, And found your hand. You smiled and blushed, What a rush. You drew yourself in closer, And settled yourself around my arm. We continued to walk, Time slipping away. But nothing mattered there with you, So many feelings rushing around. We stopped at a corner, Unable to decide what way to go. We caught each others eyes, Looked deeply at one another. I drew in closer, You leaned in to, The sparks, The tension, The wonder, The desire, Your lips, my lips. I moved in to see, And love is what greeted me. The softness of your lips, The tenderness of your kiss, The sweetness of the taste, The feel of our embrace. No moment has ever felt so real, The truest thing I could feel..
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Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 12:23 PM UTC
Our First Kiss
Hello everyone and every nearing thy desire to feast seems cooling rolling quivering shacks slowly realized there only grasping one more glance one more taste one more noticing someone area's . Umm... interesting of touches senses everything thoughtful settings ideas waves of index lies of layers of interesting craves. Unfold them lies you see the wetness inside your deep shallow shell echoing animal mind shacking that you want more you hunger for it .
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Cravings
If you all about yourself. Then single you needs to be. Cause marriage means changing many things. Strange that the shacking up couples lives comfortable. Without ever understanding love troubles. He gives her a promise ring. A friendship ring. And many profess it's nothing truly special. Which is different with a wedding ring. Cause marriage means changing many things. You've got to give up some rules. When you find the right love for you. Sure there are no promises that marriage will last forever. But the feelings will play apart of your heart. And with children's involved. You're connected forever by choice. While others consider it by force. Men probably wear theirs ring more than many women do. It keeps the trust factor from coming at you. And I admit marriage's not for everyone. But it was created for the joy of a man and woman. That's how it all started. And as it goes through many changes. It's not about to fade away. Just because a few don't wants to give a ring.
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
The Ring
With a stuttering shacking hand that is also my voice I write in absolute silence, my voice is Hidden. We think of thoughts so deep We never stop sinking... A pen becomes a paddle , and a book a boat. And I write myself away Over a an ocean of thought So I don’t drown... -M.O.I
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
Thought