Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2017
Sometimes the day smiles
shows me its colour.
No, then the wild blue yonder
doesn’t look to be far
I feel like I got the wings to fly.

But who would sway away
when the rose under the nose
floating on a sea of colour?

The luminary punter too
drops down from the sky.
Paints the broad daylight
as it sails down on its silky way.

Ah, the southern breeze
bends with the rose of the day
peeps in the colour before my eyes.
I could only see missing my butterfly.
Alyssa Underwood Dec 2015
grace on a birch branch
a pair of silky redbreasts
among red buds of spring
no worry about tomorrow
for God feeds them today
and clothes them as kings
Hungry Panda Nov 2018
Thinking of your hair,
Silky, black, smooth, loose, wavy
Perfect elegance.
Piyush Gahlot Jul 2018
That pure innocent smile,
Your childish face and that side profile,
Your silky hair and that perfect hairstyle,
Would never forget you.
**** I miss you!

The touch of your smooth skin,
That beautiful little chin,
Your blushy cheeks and that grin,
Still I adore you.
**** I miss you!

Those big dope eyes,
That Stupid nose ,
Those size 7 feet and pinky toes.
Your medications and Ayurvedic dose.
Wish again to feel you.
**** I miss you!

Baby I still remember,
that freezy December,
The day we fell off the scooter,
Your stupid buggy computer.
Our first date and the perfect kiss,
That raining night we spent in balcony
When you burnt the toast and macrony,
That birthday card you made me,
Helping in projects and assignments,
You taking care when I got sick,
I recall all those perfect memories of you,
still there's a place for you,
**** I miss you!

I wish you would have waited,
I would have come back,
But I can't blame you,
It was me who needed the space,
The fault is my OWN!
So I am the one left ALONE! :'(
I miss every cell of your body,
every second spent with you,
every moment in your arms,
Every bite I had with you.
I ******* miss the whole of YOU.
Kerli Tulva Nov 2018
He takes the brush
full of endless wonders
never runs out of
stories to ignite aflame.

Yet every day he seems
to fall into deep thought
in some other world
where beauty excists
inside a brittle crystal.

The brush, shattering it
to design carefully another
wondrous form of art.

Painter, draws the life
while the composer plays
music for the silky soul.

Poet, writes the lines
of eternal exsistence
while the dancer gives
heart for the movement
Of life.
zebra Apr 2017
i always imagine you so very graceful
through the masochists ordeal
a god form of supplication

seeing your face
in love
fascinated by shimmering kisses
that hurt, yet please
wet lips and sharp teeth  
glamors that excite

cold blade licks dragged across
tender bellies
naval
buttocks
and flexed toes
stinging
then radiating outwards

wounds become lilies
mouth *******
tremulous weeping kisses
ecstatic cruelties
blood glitter sacrifice

your supplication
love pangs

i'm shaking apart over you
your countenance
a cascading dream
moved to tears of adoration
your  limitless
yielding
like surrenders caress
an infinite communion
with fragile limbs
silky wrapped spools
innerness of desire veiled in a shroud
a faltering star that glistens crimson
nymph of purgation
ash volcanic
cells en-flamed with tongues that bite
subsumed in scented vapors
a confection of **** and ***
waves embrace ineffable shores
passed the discontinuity of life  

I have the most immense feeling of love for you
am i not
the saint death  
quietly following you
through life's labyrinth
innocuous  
waiting humbly in the wings

i am all ache for you
a vice of kisses
a brief encounter
that eats your sight and senses
ushering you to immortal freedom
a swooning garland of fire that enlivens
the body electric
a mist of molecules

your tears intoxicate
i am new life with in you
budding embryo
that consumes its mother for nourishment
and saturates like dew drops  
as it echoes through oblivion
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, and yes  i admit to my paraphilias.
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
Jordan Rowan Aug 2015
Midnight just stands there
It watches me with a stare
She doesn't like to sleep
Yet she sleeps with everyone but me

I'm calm as it storms
In this mental fire I am warm
I'm not without but within
As I let midnight in

There's a hollow in the sounds
Resounding through the pounds
Of my insomniac heart  
In the silky black dark

She was made in the light
But lives in darkest night
Solemn and upright
Like a high-end socialite

She makes me feel alive
Before the sun slowly dies
A martyr for my dreams
But nothing's what it seems
Day Oct 2018
i found you
chasing youth
and offered myself.

like candy
another piece
of this broken body,

f e a r
is nowhere to be found.

you've convinced me
sacrifice always smells
best over brunch.
Poetoftheway Aug 2018
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)



<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
Alek Mielnikow Aug 2018
Her titillating tattoo
tantalizes me deeply,
to the tenth degree. I see
it as I slip her silk dress
slowly down her left shoulder.
A lizard lying on a
boulder, contrasting with her
silky smooth soft snowy skin.

I kiss her shoulder, and she
shudders and sighs a deep sigh.
Goosebumps rise up her body
as a sturdy gust seizes
the moment. The forest we
make love in quakes and shakes
as she shivers and quivers
under the touch of my hands.

My left hand holds her upper
arm, while my right grips her hips.
She closes her eyes, smiling,
giggling in amusement.
I spin her slowly ‘round, and
look into her hazel eyes,
her soft ******* and thighs against
mine for warmth and gentle touch.

I kiss her lips. Strawberry.
And we slide down to the ground.
The scariness we have found
slips away in our grace. We
sinners share our shame, our lust,
and come to a conclusion,
and bust each others doors down,
sweet ****** on this cold ground.
Christian Ek Aug 2014
Tender touching on creamy silky skin.
Hearts pounding like jackhammers.
Sweat dripping, warm rain.
Sheets melting.
70,80,90,100 degrees celsius!!!
Pulses rising,voices rising, music rising.
White rose moving down your spine tingling your sensitive senses.
Oh how you sing my name, I hope this song never ends.
Loss of air, loss of sense of self, two bodies in one.
Rose pedals broken under two lovers forms.
Waking up in a rose garden to the sound of your voice.
Ceyhun Mahi May 2017
White gauzy smoke is blown through the lily,
Floating on air,
Fondling leaves and dewdrops who're glittery,
A view so rare.

On a picture elegance is enjoyed,
A Polaroid,
Presented in a silver-gallery,
Who's gloomy ne'er.

With gauzy threads from a silky cocoon,
White as the moon,
Lily-hands craft blooming embroidery,
With flowers there.

Like gossamers this elegance's tender,
Lit and slender,
Shining at the afternoon silvery,
Which does not flare.

O Mâhî, this form is a web of rhymes,
Who slowly chimes,
With threads we're finally stitching poetry,
Crafted with care.
A 'Mustezat', a modified version of the Gazel or Ghazal adding two shorter lines to the couplets.
Mohamed Nasir Sep 2018
A weaver loves weaving silky blankets.
A spider's home a web is stitched by threads
With many rooms; in them are tiny heads.
Their bodies preserved eaten like crumpets.
The weaver weaves it's net from yarns of steel,
So testify the insects, the flies and bees;
It laid like a trap spun from trees to trees;
Whosoever passes suffers you feel.

There lives in darkest dreary room so dour
With hairy legs alert on each it's thread
Awaits; sometimes a windy storm would roar,
When webs like battered sails are torned to shred.
But back it comes to weave within the hour
A place to ply for preys flying ahead.
zebra Sep 2018
have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to hell
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to lust criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their slave and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
Carmen Jane Mar 1
You can hold only the tips of my fingers
As my thumb brushes your entire hand
This silky touch, at once, our hearts triggers,
Etches my mind , becomes my soul's brand
ryn May 2015
I stand at the feet
of this stunning sunset,
The sparks in my eyes,
light each star.

          
Rhythm of each twinkle,
          synced with that of my own.
          Strong and sure,
          albeit few and far.


Nameless wind brings to me,
stories of silky clouds
I pull your smile deep in my heart
and finally can breathe.

          
Familiar words
          without cloaks nor shrouds.
          Just words...
          Yours and mine to reveal what
          our hearts would unsheathe.


What day is this?
Perfect to find
the rebirth of
freshly dewed dreams.

          
It isn't yesterday
          nor is it tomorrow
          It's today...
          Where the sun would see us
          weave our tapestries
          through promise-bound seams.


I feel deep in my heart,
a fluttery stirring,
A hope,
a strength to reach out to you.

          
This hope you speak of...
          Tethered by no thread or string
          Mending my universe
          and making it new.

          So now I stand
          at the end of this set...
          Seeking the beacon
          that I had known.
          I'd again brave through this day
          tomorrow...
          Just so that I could hear your heart
          that beats with my own...



     *Dajena M

     *ryn
Anecandu Nov 2018
In the Castle of my smile
All lovely words are imprisoned in stone
This place I am King that stretches a mile
My tongue its gilded throne

In the Castle of my smile,                
I spy through its bars of milky white
The silky wonderful love of my life 
Walk Eden's paradise of light.

In the Castle of my smile,                
I weave a golden rope of magic letters,
Gluing jointed lyrics with praise filled ethers
Ignoring the splinters of criticism  for better.

My means of escape down the walls to you.
Harley Oliver Oct 2014
half a cup of
a two toned muse
yeilds a quarter of
a sultry pair of cat eyes
& a tragic obsession
with princess serenity
stirred in with a dash of inconsistencies
and every teenage boys dream
under the heat of a mistress gaze
evaporating grammar and errors
mixed in with your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
of féline decor
with shoes to complement
toss in a diamond ring
throughly wrapped around
your annulus finger &
indulge it with
strange behavior then
top it off with a silky whip
to accommodate
the quenching fluid of
a ******* *****
October 18, 2013
Dilsha Kawindi Nov 2017
Smooth, silky hair tied in a high ponytail
Clear lip gloss
Fingernails painted pale pink
The perfect girl next door
Pastel cardigans and sweaters were her thing

Waking up with red, swollen, puffy eyes
Staring at her reflection in the mirror for hours
And reappearing fresh cuts on her wrist
Yet no one knew the blackness growing darker in her

What's done is done
No way to go back in time
A little attention would've been sufficient to stop it
But to be fair
She got it in the end
As her body laid on the ground
With blood gushing out of her hand
Anecandu Jun 2014
Waiting for me after a long shower and shampoo

I dry my bronze silky skin and come to you,

Your smiling sweetly sitting on the edge of Marble countertop,

waiting while your loving gaze at me never drops.



I reach out my moist hands, we brush,

You shake nervously and seem to turn to mush.

Your wondering really how innocent are my fluid motions,

I'm smirking, while grasping a scented lotion.



You sit there amused blushing from Pink to rainbow,

Each angle gives you a new mellow, a glow, wow!

I'm missing something , something I pretend to forget,

You look impatient now with sighs of regret.



You sulk as I glimpse with a lean of my head,

through the frame of my door from my now made up bed,

I pull up my slacks, your sunny smile fades to dreary,

I put on my shirt, your turning the evil fairy.


I know you feel there's someone else,

Some disappearing genie or magical elf,

because you sense but never see,

Me happy in other pleasant company.



You want to be all over me that much is clear.

I want to take you too in my arms dear,

But today will have to be just that touch,

Your lingering smell on me makes others lust.


But silently you understand,

Your sealed mouth is as dry as sand,

I blow a kiss as I pick up my key,

I know in the dark you'll wait for me................


Because your MY perfume
Lazhar Bouazzi Dec 2017
The yellow rays of the sun fell on the Bower
Like a golden rain
And a bee kissed with the tongue a crimson flower
Like a song refrain
As a silky butterfly sweet as a shower
Poked fun at my pain.
© LazharBouazzi, December 29, 2017
P E Kaplan Apr 2014
First I spied the neck, sagging innocently enough,
one might even say blissfully, reflected in the glass laptop.
The phrase "whodunit" came out of nowhere,
and a low, silky, voice whispered,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

The villain left a few clues; the wispy hair strands;
some scattered age spots, skin tags, a few moles,
listless, crinkly, skin pale, lightly pimpled,
and a weird, wrinkly crevasse teased,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

Totally hooked, curiosity piqued; southward I spotted
where a once perky treasure "chest" was hidden,
two solemn, half-empty grain sacks, laying sideways,
basically lifeless they lazily muttered,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

The final chapter, the mystery solved,
no crime, no villain, nothing stolen, just flesh alchemy.
Where once a taut, flat, plateau of supple skin, resided
now a lumpy, bumpy, flabby belly, murmured sweetly,
"Boston Creme Pie and a cup of tea would hit the spot."
John Niederbuhl May 2017
Each day I watch the ocean swell
Sometimes with hope, sometimes despair;
The ocean's faces ever change
Like the fashions of their hair:

Monday:

Like a waterfall of brown
Through golden culverts flowing--
Sweeps me far away downstream,
Without her ever knowing.

Tuesday:

Rippled clouds at sunrise,
Supple, damp and red,
Combed out, twisted in a braid,
Or just left loose instead.

Wednesday:

Of her black hair a single strand
Sweeter than Midnight's darkest land;
When it lightens up again,
Its sunrise on a beach of sand.

Thursday:

Like golden floss on top of corn,
Silky, curly, fine,
Rising from a thick, black band
Above blue eyes that shine.

Friday:

Whipped up like a hot souffle,
Luxurious, soft, held loose
With ribbons, combs and perfume,
Tempting like a mousse.

Saturday:

Her pony tail we follow,
Like the Christmas star;
Maybe we're not wise men,
But then, maybe we are.

Sunday:

Her hair flew up out the vent
Like a flame,
When we hit an unmarked bump
(Not big).

The top slid shut,
And her hair almost caught,
So I reached up
And pulled it in quick.
Seven different people
txr Aug 2014
Stars so shiney and bright
Her eyes are beyond compare
The darkness of the night
Her long silky black hair

The whiteness of the moon
Is her pearly white smile
And the soundless night tune
Was her tone for a while

The slight ocean breeze
And the waves that break
Into my heart with eeze
She made no mistake

Darkness all the way
Stars as far as the eye can see
On the beach we lay
Just her and just me

But as the sun lights the sea
And all the darkness decends
We were no longer to be
*My perfect night sky ends
Next page