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Zetolgam Aug 2020
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
Set of rhymes for my wife
Lauren Miller Dec 2012
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.
Anna Marie May 2015
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!"
Steven Hutchison Apr 2013
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.
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
Nicole Alyse Nov 2013
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.
Warren-Johnson Oct 2018
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!
©️
Jamie Sep 2019
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.
My heart, I can't get it back, I don't want it back..
Artistry Dec 2014
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
jeffrey conyers May 2016
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.
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.
kaylene- mary Sep 2015
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.
Excuse the repost.
T R S Feb 2018
My brain my brain I cracked it
Autodidatic missions lessened feeling
crackled, wrecked, I wracked it
I wracked I wracked my brain
Stained in cacophony
Lacking in harmony
Hacking hacking
I wracked it
I wrecked my beautiful brain
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.
Jenny JF Apr 2016
NaPoWriMo 2016 - Day 21 - Poem from a minor character in a fairy tale.

Oh Grandma

Well m'dears,
I never fancied a care home, or
meals on wheels.
With a shrivelled up lump
Of God's knows what.
Delivered twice a day.

But I'm blessed.
With family who
look after me,
in their own way.
My daughter sends her girl
every couple of day with a basket full of "goodies".

I don't know who is more feckless mind.
Her mother who dresses her up
in a stupid red cape.
Or the child who can't follow
simple instructions.
Go straight to grandma's cottage.
Do not talk to strangers.

Anyhoo, I lay there,
my stomach thinking
my throats been cut.
When I here a knock at the door.
I remind the idiot child
the door is on the latch.
My hips too dodgy to be getting up and down.
This suspect looking character
saunters in.
All big eyes, big ears, big teeth
Now I'm old, but no fool
I says "you're a..."

Before I've got a word out.
That great slathering beast
Gobbles me up.
Not so much a by your leave
No one respects their elders these days.

To add insult to injury.
He starts cavorting about
In MY nightie.
Now, I'm not one to judge
What a slathering beast does
Behind closed doors is his own affair.
But it was my best flannelette
He ripped the buttons right off, the brute.

Half an hour later my granddaughter,
Little miss take your own sweet time comes along.
Now I've mentioned she's not
the sharpest ax in the woodshed.

Well she gives Mr Wolf, my cake, my wine.
Then, after his washed that down, THEN, she gets an inkling something MIGHT be amiss.
I can hear all this from the cavernous belly of the wolf.

Oh grandma what BIG eyes, ears, teeth, you know the story.
Is she blind?
His a 6ft humanoid wolf.
In drag.
I'm 4ft nothing.
I've bounced that girl since she was a babe in arms.
Ok, perhaps once or twice I MAY have dropped her on her head.
But to not recognise her own grandmother.

Well long story short
There is a scuffle
A local arborist is passing.
Sweeps in saves the day.
Gives old wolfy a taste of cold steel.
Felling him from crown to toe.
I flop out like a wriggling infant.

I've come to see it,
as a rebirth.
A second chance of life if you will.
I'm carpe dieming and seizing what fishes I can catch.
I've sold the cottage, me and Sven the wandering arborist are shacking up together.
People say it's shocking
That he's only after me for my money.
But it beats feckless family or sheltered accommodation
Plus I've got a nice fur stole
Much more fetching than a Red Riding Hood.
Gabriel Vazquez Nov 2011
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..
The Mellon Jun 2016
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.
BodyMy Grandmother

Warming lights surround you
Quilting the sharp silence
Outside dawn begins
Earth starts stretching
Straightening out the nots
Caught from hours of slumber
Night moves on to blacken
another sky
And Calmness stills the room
All is as it should be

Your drifting in an endless sleep
I know not if you'll wake
Or lay your eyes on me once
more
Softening my heavy heart
As death appears, he waits by
your side
Silently
Head dipped in respect
In white and gold robes
I ask him for more time
An hour, a day, a second
His comforting eyes say no
It is your time
You must go

Aged hands under silken skin
That have tended plants, raised
children,
Healed hearts, comforted souls
Loose their warmth
A last breath escapes your
lungs
I look at death pleadingly
But nothing can be done
I have to let you go now
You must do this alone

Death picks up your soul up as
an orb
Glittering like a large diamond
To ferry you to your kin
I see them through the void
waiting

never again will we sit on the
porch
As dew wakes up the grass
Trees shacking off the night
Just talking
Soaking up the invaluable
wisdom
That resided deep within you
Every snippet a precious  gem
Id buried them within
Where no other can steal them

I show no tears
As they only fuel pain
From a young age
You taught me to be brave
Knowing my life would shatter
me
More often than not I'd feel
senseless pain
Somehow you knew my path
was not to be easy
I was born with thunder raging
inside of me
Your compassion carried me
Over potholes and rocky paths
Your soothing voice steadied
me
Till I made it safely past
Inside of me a hatred boiled so
you explained how understand
That I was lucky
Then this wisdom you taught
me

As I lay out your body
Readying you for your last
journey
I wonder
Did i tell you enough
Of the love and admiration i
had for you
I was blessed everyday with
you
Did i make you aware
Without you I'd be crushed
Were you aware
You made life easier
The road slightly smoother
Life not so daunting
Teaching me never to give up
Hope

My mother weeps at your side
Your legacy missed her
gracefully
She will never know the
desilute feeling
As thunder rages inside
For this I smile gratefully
Wrapping your body for
eternity
Happy you left peacefully
And not just your jam recipe
Was handed down to me
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
JidosReality Oct 2015
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
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...
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 .
jeffrey conyers May 2013
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.
Jorge Diaz Sep 2017
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....
Jamie Sep 2019
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..
The night we kissed, the sparks so real. I think back to this night, and no matter how things ended, it's a memory I'll always cherish.
ThatBrokenOne Jan 2019
I told two of my friends
They were shocked
They were silent
They didn't know what to say

I told two of my friends
That I want to leave this place
That I want to vanish from the face of the earth
That I want to be gone

I told two of my friends
One called
One texted
Two were out of words

I told two of my friends
They reacted
They said, they didn't want me to be gone
They asked me to stay

I told two of my friends
I was in tears
I was shacking
I was crying rivers

I told two of my friends
They contacted me
They told me to hing in there
They are there for me
Thank you friends. I was a small sentence but a big word to say. It took me weeks to tell, and moments for you to call
K G May 2016
My soul out in a burning mist
My body in the worst of dens
To feed it and forget it, the leaves among it
Silence with that murmur, the swung wicket
Its a broken hearted nemophilist
Here
The neck your mother's arms caressed
A handful of blossoms I plucked
Hands ******* and darkened
Great black spots where the blood has run

When we were rich in the crevice
We had our bodies burnished
Night shacking up, so we've furnished

Not a plenteous sort of season, time of year
Blue-black, lustrous, masculine eyes
Barricaded by trees, fields, and grime tears
William de klerk Mar 2018
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
It’s easy to dig to deep into thought and lose the beauty around you. Your thoughts can consume you and burden you , but if we write we can escape.

— The End —