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Lora Lee May 2016
I am hungry
and it is reflected
in the contours
of every inch
                  of skin
every cell a-flutter
tiny wings and heartbeats
activated within
right down to
the ribosomes and
kidney-shaped
mitochondria
right up through epidermis
woven as threads
of softness penetrating
your inner hard, dark parts
causing them
to melt into
                my light
I am craving
to feel your
absolute heart's
raging core
my aching flesh burning,
my heart, wrapped in
a love
              so pure
My need to be
devoured surfaces
in smoothness,
at a glance
You feel it acutely,
no room for doubt
or subtle chance
               I am ravenous
for muscle-worked arms
(arms that could easily
try to break)
to be supremely
gentle as you part
my thighs like the ocean
and sacredly partake
the slickness of your tongue
in my feminine grace
the stains of my love
drenching
                your noble face
your eyes on mine
as I sharply breathe
         need to hold your
head stroke your
           hair know that for me              
the king takes off that
garland of gold
breaking free of
all symbols of status
the only real treasure
the queen who
gives to him,
and who he now pleasures
     and I let myself be consumed
with the reverence
of a psalm
my love pouring into you
healing your hurts,
               like a balm
in this private landscape
we are the most
ferocious of tender
estuaries
in an eternal vista
in this hour of somewhere,
the sea hauls us in
like ancient creatures,
     bringing the fossils
back to life
in lustrous foam
as they
         inch their way
into the spirals
    that we
feel we could
call
     home‎
Appropriately attuned with "Alternate World" by Son Luxe...yes in an alternate world, so much could happen
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wnIs71n_kE
and, for the mood:  "Hazey"by Glass Animals
Yes.
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Show in contented rest
bringing ghosts
company wished greenly
how did you know?

Bleeding on too long
they had to be cut down
from hooks and ropes
in order of feeding.

Liars causing problems
complicated sacrament
with slickness
under blackberry briars.

Safe from hawks
stay in Juicyland
where it's prickly
free from ****.

This song triples guessed
foxy playing hard
around leafy bush
only snake does not miss.

Dance my badger spirit
agile amongst complexity
ward off and wander.
Kangaroo mouse prance.

Survival in stickers
only seasonal escape.
Where to hide from
next your sly rival?
I once relocated a happy kangaroo mouse from my home to a blackberry patch. There I felt he'd be safe for sometime, but there would be hard lessons. I still wonder how he faired at times?
Lucky Queue May 2013
Bacon
Grease
Unpleasant slickness
Oil
Flith
A ***** feeling that you're overwhelmed by so you just want to get into a shower and scrub your skin raw
The one time my sisters and I played in mud and were covered in gritty goop
Losing the handle to the outside faucet
Cold icy water
Jumping into a creek and getting soaked
Cold water and cramping up, drowning
The ocean's waves pulling me under
Fear of drowning and ocean water forced down my throat
Salty water and the taste of the sea
Salt
Bacon
Association poem
Jennifer Wolfe Sep 2018
UNTIL NEXT TIME



THE PRESENCE OF YOUR BEING
PLACED UP AGAINST MY BACKSIDE
CAUSES A BIT OF EXCITEMENT
THAT MY BODY CAN’T JUSTIFY

FROM JUST A SINGLE TOUCH
FROM YOU AND YOUR UNSEEING
MY BODY TREMBLES DEEP INSIDE
AND MY GENDER BECOMES SO REVEALING

I TURN AND WRAP MY LEGS AROUND
AND USE YOU LIKE A CLUTCH
THE FEELING IN MY BODY STARTS TO TRAVEL
I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT
OR IF IT’S JUST TO MUCH

THE SLICKNESS MY BODY’S REVEALING
BECOMES LIKE A FLUID GUIDE.
YOUR ARMS GLIDING MY EVER GENTLE MOVEMENT.
AS WE INTERTWINE

YOU SLOWLY TAKE YOUR GENDER
AND PUT IT INSIDE OF MINE
TO REACH YOUR IMMENSE INDUCEMENT
WITH YOUR HARDNESS BURIED INTO MINE

AS I SHAPE INTO THE PERFECT FORM OF YOU
SO ACCEPTING AND AGREEING
BANGING THE WALLS INSIDE
I GRADUALLY ACCEPT YOUR FREEING

WE RISE TOGETHER IN THIS MOMENT
MY BEING BEGINS TO SHATTER
THIS IS A PLACE OF EVERLASTING BLISS
AND NOTHING BESIDES THIS SEEMS TO EVEN MATTER

MY BEING SHATTERS AS I START TO INCLINE
THE COMBINED MOVEMENT OF US TWO
THE SWEETNESS OF YOUR SWELL
TELLS ME WE’RE NOT THROUGH

AND IN THE SHADOWS I CAN SEE
YOUR EYES LOCKING INTO MINE
MY SOUL WANTING TO BE BURIED
AND MY HIGH IS CLIMBING AGAIN INSIDE

YOUR EXISTENCE IN MY LIFE SHORT LIVED
YOUR BODY SO CLOSE TO MINE
FOREVER YOU ARE APART OF ME
YOUR BODY IS SOMETHING I STRIVE

AS YOU LAY YOUR LIPS UPON MINE
AND WE SAY OUR LAST GOODBYES
YOU ARE FOREVER SPECIAL TO ME
REMEMBER, UNTIL NEXT TIME


BY JENNIFER WOLFE
Combat....

though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....

for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the ******* of it's victim.....

Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....

Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts

The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)

The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...

The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....

The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....

out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion  
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and  scattered  tranquility...

A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."

Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
Timothy Brown Dec 2013
The days have blended into a poetic haze
of mismatched syllables, hanging participles
accented with a hint of discourage.
My purpose use to be therapeutic.

Each rhyme I wrote was a comma in my run-on sentences.
And for awhile, I could breathe. Each breath became less wheezy, uneven and strained.
After I gathered enough air, I dared to speak.
Me? How could I even have the audacity to think!?

To my disbelief, my words didn't fall on deaf ears.
The anxiety, shame, depression and fear woven
into every poem made me familiar in the minds of strangers.
These strangers made me feel human.

With quickness that's comparable to the slickness of a parable
I was ****** from a catapult into the essence of prose.
However, the latency between the beginning of my literary journey
and the discovery of my gift for poetry was afflicting my sensibility.

I succumbed to the bullying from hyperboles
and the taunting of iambic pentameter.
At times I was afraid to talk to neighbors
for fear of narrative structure overhearing.  

Now, I am wandering in a fog
though the hills of unpublished work,
echoed only by the crunch of "not good enough" beneath my feet.
This was therapeutic.  Now I use it to influence my movements.
© December 18th, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved.
Big Virge Aug 2020
Ya Know I've Heard It Said By Older Heads...
COMPETITION Is Part of Human STRENGTH... !!!

That's TRUE I Guess But Now Detect...
Competitions NOW Have Got DEFECTS... !!!
And DON'T Give Wealth To Humanity's Health... !!!

I'm Older Now So See Just How...
Competitions... DROWN...
Because of CLOWNS...
Now CLAIMING Crowns... !?!

As If They're... KINGS... ?!?
When They're Just.............
COMPETING... WEAKLINGS... !!!!!

Like Heads NOW Kicking Lyrics...
That LACK The Depth And Slickness...
In Verse BIG VIRGE Be Bringing... !!!

My Poems Leave Heads RINGING... !!!
Because My Words Keep STINGING... !!!
Like Cobras That Be... SPITTING... !!!

In The Faces of FAKES Who Just Can't Take...
STRONG BRANDS of SHARP Wordplay... !!!!!!

They QUICKLY Run For Cover...
When They DISCOVER The Rocks I'm Under... !!!

Cos' My Venom EXTENDS...
... PROBLEMS For Them... !!!!!

Because My Chem'... HITS Ventricles...
And Blends To FEND Like Tentacles... !!!!!

That STING These Kids Like JELLYFISH... !!!!!
A... " Man o War "... For SURE... !!!!
When I HIT Shores Competitors ROAR...

"Okay Big Virge, No More, NO MORE !"......

Or Like DURAN... "No Mas No Mas !"

When I Start To PEPPER...
Their Head Like... LEONARD...
Cos' I'm The... Sugar Ray...
Wordplay... HEAVYWEIGHT... !!!!!!!!

TOO HEAVY To Be Found...
On... ANY Dub Plate... !!!!!!!

My Competition Dissipates......................... ..............
And Disintegrates Because They're AFRAID...
of The Kind of Wordplay I Choose To DISPLAY...
... That DESTROYS These FAKES... !!!!!

Competition They CLAIM...
To Want... ALL DAY... !!!

Til' I STAKE My Claim...
To Enter... CENTRE STAGE... !!!
And HIT LAME BRAINS...
With My... MIND SPRAY... !!!!!

I DAMAGE These FOOLS...
Just Like... " JERU "...

Compete With... WHO... ?!?
I'm The Doctor... WHOSE...
Competitive Words Have BIGGER BOOTS...
Than... COMPETITIVE JERKS...
Whose Verse... Lacks Worth... !!!

COMPETITIVE Dudes...
Who Were Born To LOSE... !!!!!!

I Compete With... ME...
NOT GLORY Hunting Freaks... !!!

Because...

EVERY TIME I Rhyme Alphabet Letters...
I'm Trying To BETTER My Form of VENDETTA...
To STAND For... MORE...
Than THESE WHORISH Trend Setters... !!!

I'm A VERBAL GO GETTER...
NEVER Late But... FOREVER... !!!

A Man Whose VIEWS...
COMPETE To... CONSUME...
VOLUMES In Rooms...
Who CHOOSE To REFUSE...

WORDPLAY I USE...
I'm A Bit... " CONFUSED "... ???

When It Seems They CHOOSE...
To BELIEVE It's... COOL...
When These FOOLS Exude...
SO MUCH... ATTITUDE...
About... " How They DEFEAT ! "...

EVERYBODY They Meet...
When It Comes To... FREESTIES'...
That They KICK Over Beats... !!!!!?!!!!!

They're QUICK To APPLAUD...
These... Lyrical FRAUDS... ?!?
Who COMPETE To Hear ROARS...
When They're... Treading The Boards... !!!

COMPETITIVE... Actors... !!!
Kind of Like An X Factor...
For... Wannabee Rappers...
Who … LACK The Bite...
of..... VELOCIRAPTORS...... !!!!!!!!

As For The... Gun Clappers...
They Take JOOK' Like SLAPPERS... !!!!!!

When... Like A SLACK Gangster...
They Get SHOT In The CRAPPER...
Cos' Their **** LOST It's HAMMER... !!!!!!

I Make These FOOLS... " S T T T TAMMER "... !!!!!
When I Utilise... GRAMMAR...
That HAMMERS Like BANNER... !!!

OKAY I Mean... THOR... !!!
COMPETING... Fa' SURE... !!!
When It Comes To A Cause...
WORTH... FIGHTING For... !!!!!

I COMPETE On... Spirit Levels...
That DISHEVEL These DEVILS... !!!
Who... CLEARLY Seem To REVEL...
In Being Given... MEDALS...
For NONSENSE That They PEDAL... !!!

Like PRIEST My HEAVY MENTAL...
Is How I... BURN And SETTLE...

Scores With... BROADS...
I Mean... GIRLS Of Course... !!!

Who... CLEARLY LIKE To See...
THESE Gangster Wannabes'...
COMPETING For Their *****... !!!!

NO MORE Do I CONCEDE... !!!
To PANDER To Their Schemes... !!!

My Competition FEEDS...
OFF MORE Than They Could Be... !!!!!!!!

My Competition NEEDS...
To Make A... BETTER ME... !!!!!

NOT To PROVE To... " Peeps' "...
That I'm BETTER Than Jay-Z... !?!?!

I'd RATHER Be... " The V "...
Whose VENDETTAS COMPETE...
AGAINST The... Powers That Be... !!!!

And FIND A... HIGHER Mission...
Than Being... SOLELY DRIVEN...
To Fighting For... A PITTANCE... ?!?

In PETTY.............

……. " COMPETITION " …….
I was never one to believe that an artists' work should be something to be placed in competitions. People either like what you do or they don't ....

Voting on art is Hardly Ever, Objective .....
Combat....

though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....

for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the ******* of it's victim.....

Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....

Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts

The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)

The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...

The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....

The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....

out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion  
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and  scattered  tranquility...

A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."

Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
JG Reposh Sep 2010
we drank so deep from a bottle so thick
and you
looking through the slickness of this mirror
into
my eye

you tried so hard
to get me off
and I told you sweetest things
and what's best I told the truth I
told you what
is true

edge of the bed I had my pants down
around my thighs
and here you are
you are
a seventies rebellion
filling the room so thick so hot
like the stereo speakers yelling
"damaged by you
damaged by me
I'm confused
confused"

we're both speaking to doctors
speaking always better
to one another
but you wouldn't admit that
sooner to be farther
farther to be nearer
and nearer to hear better
my breath into your ear

my shirt was green darling
and your shirt was red
I gave it to you
and then you gave me head
MacKenzie Turner Jan 2012
an earth spilled you soft
onto meadows of grass
and arms lifted you up
with bottle neck glass
boiling deep foriegn squall
of aluminum shards,
hardened sweat celebrations
strewn over the yard
remember these nets
and this slickness of sands
is strange to you too
a strange set of hands
that pulls the sky from you
and forgets how to breathe
and stills a soft meadow
your mother's bereaved.
More from the golden oldies.
Conor Letham Dec 2012
air-goggles clasped
eyeing up slickness
like a gull hangs over

bright airy gasps
brings arms up
feeling the tilt

toward water-sky
kicks up then down
to earth-pull push
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
who would i consider to be the greatest teachers on women?
Stendhal, Marquis de Sade, Ovid...
Flaubert: most certainly Flaubert... but now most certainly
Ovid too...
i might go as far as to drop Knausgaard into the equation
(oddly enough)...
how else would i have learned a little bit about women
if not men who learned about women and recorded
their findings... i might even whisper the name Nietzsche
to further my "question"...

it started with her showing me her leg...
   some ugly spider bit it in two places: she was so disgruntled
about it... she showed the bite: started to squeeze it:
if i could have guessed: if she could bend so far low
she would have probably tried biting that piece of flesh
out of her...
i told her a worthwhile remedy:
OCET SPIRITUSOWY (10%) you can go into and ******
delicatessen and buy it... rub it onto the bite mark...

but that still didn't lift the mood: i felt awkward...
i can sniff a lie from a mile away: women are the greatest
liars when they speak: unfortunately:
they're the worst liars when they don't speak...
you can lie by speaking lies...
but you can also lie by not telling the truth:
i.e. by not talking...
a burning thought oozes out on the body and the body
cannot lie...
there was some ill in the air...
the entire room was on fire... even she said:
why is it so hot in this room when outside it's cool?
the entire room was on fire...

i think she was furious with me...
i promised her that i would come on said day and i did:
perhaps i've become too predictable for her liking?
something ill was in the air...
it wasn't just the spider bite and her annoyance
with it: a woman can make the smallest irk
into a deluge of irks...
   the smallest thing can become the greatest discomfort
for a woman...
i could feel it: although she said nothing
when i asked her if she was o.k., whether she was tired...
something strange about her eyes...

ah... eye-lash extensions: i didn't compliment
on them... i noticed something different about them...
after a super-quick quickie:
i don't know... there's something potent about
the ******* position in front of two mirrors...
her kneeling on the bed me standing by the bed
thrusting... maybe i was too tired ergo too *****
i couldn't perform to her pleasure: only to my own...
thankfully my male pride wasn't hurt...
i always brush off under-performing by laughing
after the ******...
i'm not going to explain myself beyond:
not every woman climaxes every time during *******:
not every man can go on for an hour
without climaxing... i told her just that:
it depends what mindset i'm wearing...
  sometimes it takes me as much time as it might
take a woodland pigeon... enough time to only
balance on the female while flapping its wings...
sometimes in the ******* i'm peering
into the eyes of a mantis and hoping she will not
eat me afterwards: ergo: i try to not deposit any
albino tadpoles into her...

afterwards we lay ****-naked side by side
on the bed... then i noticed her elongated eyelashes...
we talked about them... how they're new
and are itching her eyes...
woman: natural born sadists and that sadism concerning
beauty to boot...
i said: you noticed the trend among black girls?
camel eyes: eye-lashes for thick and long they could
possibly brush their eye-brows...
and nails... my god... you can't do anything with nails
that long... and hair?! once upon a time black girls
adored their afro curls... now?
they're imitating white women's hair... Asian women's hair:
they even employ wigs to imitate that raven slickness...
i remember a time in high school when black girls
would use vaseline cream to smooth out their afros...
she agreed about the nails and eye-lashes:

come on! you can't make a ******* sandwich with nails
that long...
nails... i looked at her nails... she showed me that
she needed a manicure... she showed me some designs
from the internet that she'd like to have...
then she showed me her toenails...
that's another thing... i knew something was wrong...
she didn't take her socks off during *******...
that's a major sign that something is wrong...
seriously! who the hell ***** with their socks on?
it's like that Iron Maiden song: die with your boots
on...
something was seriously wrong...
maybe it was me: maybe it wasn't me...
it's too late for that...

once upon a time women were the greatest mysteries
of the literary world...
men would spend aeons contemplating
their mysteries: and if not mysterious per se...
then men would mystify them!
now? women are sabotaging themselves...
they're exposing themselves in ways so crude so...
sick... so... unappealing...
it's hard to mystify women these days...
me? hardly having lost touch with reality:
i've lost touch with an un-reality...
with romanticism...
              
Michaela, as a woman? not every man's cup of tea...
but then again i like large women...
not obese... when she lay back and feigned tiredness
putting her leg on top of mine...
chatting... i played her Le Trio Joubran's
Majaz... and told her the story about how i first
heard the song...
i was in Amsterdam with this Egyptian guy...
i was drinking beer, he was smoking ****...
then he gave me a drag of the ****
and told me to put his headphones on... he played
the song: and i showed her my reaction:
my JAW DROPPED... my eyes closed...
i was suspended in a "falling gravity"...
no... in a "whirling gravity" of my own empty canvas
presence... an implosion of Heidegger's dasein...
there was no "there"... there was either
sein or nichtsein and hier...

ha ha... i was talking to my father today in the car
as he helped me get my second bicycle
get driven the repair shop... finally!
i'll get my mountain bicycle up to speed...
i'll get off the roads and head into the wilderness...
£80... not a bad deal for the repairs needed...
and he mentioned that there's this Romanian
woman working the hoist on the construction
site... he said that the most difficult word in Romanian
is... 11...
unsprezece - uns... one... pre: before... zece...
i need diacritical markers for this one...
or? just employ Italian...
unsprezecce...              unsprezeče...
hell... with the expansion of the European Union...
of the Polacks that came in 2008... most have left...
only a few remain...
but the Romanians stuck to their guns...
after all: they can easily mingle with the hordes from
Asia... come to think of it:
England is starting to glisten with a demographic
akin to Brazil... i think i'm going to start calling
England Brazil no. 2... it's clearly post-racial
in what ecosystem we have...
black boys loving white girls...
white boys not really into any other race:
well... i have my exceptions... Turkish and Romanian...
but that's me...

but sort of woman in what sort of mood doesn't
take her socks off during ***?!
i find it most irritable: not ******* in the dim
lights with your socks on...
maybe the ill and the fire in the air
was my own self evaporating into their air...
irritated by this lack of aesthetic...
maybe it wasn't her: maybe it was me...
then again: she's was already thinking about going
back to Romania...

better than being a rock star...
what i wouldn't give: none of my books...
to become a blues-man... a Howlin' Wolf...
then again: i wouldn't do nothing: absolutely: nothing...
having spent 2 years of my 20s reading
up on Heidegger...
i'm good... if i get really thirsty: i'll just buy
half a watermelon and gorge on it like
it might be a woman's ******... i'll get my beard wet
and try not to bring either ****** or umbrella:
cheap *** ******* little questionable
little me...
i didn't say i'm a millionaire...
but i said i spent more money than a millionaire...
love those lyrics...
blues and ***... ******* becomes
distasteful after a while:
the while you realise those people are
actors... and *** is hardly acting:
*** comes around to you in its most authentic
claim of your self you can ever have...
while ******* disrupts all of that...

it's never going to be a pornographic flick
when real life hits the fan...
the **** can lie as a pile dragging itself to the status
of diamond among flies on
some random hill...

tube strikes... only start working from 8am...
of course i'll be late for my shift at Fulham...
but i'm still drinking...
enough of whiskey and enough of the blues
and enough of thinking about thinking about ***...
i'm not going back to the brothel
until Michaela ***** off to Romania on the 28th of this month...
i already have two girls in my sight...
deer-in-headlights... sitting pretty: sitting scared...

i need to become more unpredictable...
i need to ensure the girl takes her socks off...
Michaela is very much unlike Khadijah...
she doesn't wash herself after ***...
and she's the one asking me for extra pay
for unprotected ***...
at least Khadijah washed herself...
i washed her... she washed me after *******...
i like *** + hygiene...
must be a Turkish "thing"...

                        no... i'm not going to feel **** about
myself... there's no point:
i simply can't change other people by pretending
to change myself... i'lll wait until Michaela is out
of the picture... she put me off *** for a bit...
i can sink into a diet of sexless days...
but no... you don't get away with being sloppy...
you don't get to **** with your socks on!

she might have thought that i didn't notice that
she had eye-lash extension...
what's with the socks?!
  you forgot you were wearing shoes,
or something?!
******* while still having your socks on...
oh man oh man oh man...
that's why the room was on fire!
**** it!  start donning fishnet stockings!
i could manage that...
start donning long knee-teasing leather boots!
i could stomach that! but socks?!
i can't stomach that...
           i'm expected to put on a ******
while... a woman is not expected to take her socks off?!
throw rocks at me! throw 'em!

there are just aesthetic standards...
that's the last time i paid so much eye-candy on a woman
no prior man would pay her her dues...
me neither: i have skin like it's worth
grating a grand cheddar cheese on...
but... tender... i can: be...
she just felt bored... and i felt predicable:
onto the next...
maybe she flashed her phone before my eyes
to boot: showcasing her grand achievement
of a bambino outside of wedlock:
probably raised by her grandparents...

Darwinism is a scam in my cards...
either Poker or Blackjack...
i'm a sore loser with genes that ought to be replicated...
20-20 vision... pretty **** good hearing...
i've never broken a bone in my body...
if i get hurt and my bones are affect?
i create bone outgrowths... bulges of bone...
genetically? i'm not too bad...
but in terms of reality: i'm not a safe-bet...
and guess what? i like mediocre people...
shadow-grey-people...
i like them: they make good traffic obstacles...
they make me churn out a practice
in spatial awareness...
i can denote them to THINGS and rob them of
the status of NOUNS...
something... this thing... that thing...
whatever... no bother... i'm casual like that...

hey! like for like!
Michaela: the 28th of this month better come sooner
than you leaving for Romania! make sure you have
your socks on! all the time!
that ****** me off... a woman that keeps her socks
on during *** is like... is like... a woman eating a meal
without a knife when a knife and fork is required!
or a man... for that matter...
socks during *** is just a massive turn-off:
i best finish early... i'm ******* clocking-out...
no! not on a whim! i'm clocking out because aesthetics
and the blues and thinking about what *** is about...
Eden...
not talking... groaning and moaning...
onomatopoeias...
                        
hmm! that's why the room was on fire!
i finished early because? she was wearing socks...
that's why the air in the room felt ill!
because she never bothered to wash herself
after we had ***... Khadijah did...
each time... i showcased washing my genitals after every
genitals:
i might be a brute... but: in terms of hygiene:
i'm pretty exacting regarding what's appealing
                                               and what isn't...

i can't stand filthy people...
show me a rat...
             show me a bunch of rats...
i'll show you a pretty cheese chamber with plenty
of the right sort of gas...
i'm not joking...
   i wish... oh i wish i were joking...

                      by now... does it even matter?
by now i don't think it even matters...
should it matter shouldn't it?
it never really matter given enough time...
             time truly flies: regardless of whether you're
having fun or not...
by the drop, the drip, the drool or either blood
or water... or a sprinkle of salt or sand...
what's good is wasted over so much time...
while what's bad... wastes the mind over a time
best entrusted in keeping a memory of the good times...

my beard! my ******* violin!
i stroke it and imagine playing a sad sad... song;
but the cynic in me: laughs...
just like a dog looks up at his master when being walked on
a leash!
Travis Green Dec 2022
Your chillin’ energy-filled slickness bewitches me
Your heavenly effervescent frequency
Collars and pauses my thoughts and feelings
Causes me to wanna get with me
To hook up with your lovingly feel-good smoothness

Breathe in your machoness
Spot your hotness, let you rock my softness
Cop my heart and soul, smoke my dopeness
Choke my throat, compose your sheer lyrical notes
In my tight flowery hole, make it nasty and wet

Stretch me out, make me glow
Make me so bowled over by the filthy ****
You speak to me, make me killer blitzed and blissed out
Relishing your thundering love storm
The way your stuff your long chocolate *******
Further in my innerness, make me scatterbrained

Vitality drained, sexually aroused, highly insane
Lost in how you flaunt your ******* crunkness
How you bang the hell out of my insides
Make my guts lovestruck, struck up
Addicted to your breeziness, the mad smashing
Movement of your seductiveness

You talk so slick and sweet to me
You take me to strikingly sensual ecstasy
The way you look at me
How your thickness teases and thrills my walls
Make me wanna lose everything I have
To bask in your mantasticness

Cherish your whole smoking world
In the innermost reaches of my exquisiteness
Smooth tatted Zaddy, you please me
The way your mean supreme beanbag bounces
And confounds every ounce of me

Make me crave your electric savory taste
The way your rub and love
On your brutally supple and magnetic muscle
Look at me with overwhelming lust
In your demonically dark eyes
Growling like a rampant savage lion
As you deflower my dynasty

Drive your hard-hitting litness
In the deepest parts of my hotness
Freak me with extra firepower
Make me hanker to go higher into the night
With your divinely electrifying invitingness

Feel your massive melanin missile slow dance in me
Beat it up, mister blazing and scintillating Samson
Make me do a double take
When you take me out of my mind
Cause me to drown in your greatness

Chocolate hypnotic show stopper
You shake me up, break me apart
Make me pine to dive into your boundlessness
Take in your mean wicked sinfulness
Feel your soft manly lips circle my dazzling bare shoulders

Flick your tongue at me
Run your fingertips up and down my right cheek
Polish my body with your charmingness
Make me lose my head over your majestically
Expressive and sexalicious manliness

The way your hung monster expunger
Does damage to my tunnel
I can’t run from your monstrous thunder
You serve me your delicious beefy meat
Make me heavily exhilarated

So caught up in an unconquerably
Chocolate and enthralling ****
I love watching you penetrate my gayness
Hear you cussing such ****** **** to me
Got me hard as ****

I feel your wild, vile vibe
I rock to the beat of your incessant red-hot heat
Feel you all up in my stomach
As you **** me ceaselessly
Make me extremely superheated

Make me wanna be down with your profoundness
Worship your masculineness
The way you enamor and ram
My yummy stupendous bumper
And shoot your foamy hood juice
In my tender feminine pool
Travis Green Nov 2022
You are so seriously superb
And in charge of your extraordinarily
Ardent and dominant machoness
Magically attractive and talented
Sure-fire virile kryptonite

I am so high on your fiery
Muscle-bound enticingnes
How you move me
Into your groovy juicy galaxy
Work every mesmerizing
Measure of your brutal brick-hard muscle

Kiss me more and more
Pour your avant-garde godlike glory
Deep in the illuminating chamber of my core
Make me cross-eyed and stupefied
Highly hypnotized by the exciting
And wild things you do to me

The way you make me cave in
To your breezy finger-lickin’ slickness
Become one with your stunningness
Such a dreamily delicious soliloquy
Of lovingness that lures me
Further into the freshest and sexiest
Routes of your awe-inspiring likeableness

Give me an impossible and phenomenal hard-on
Tell me you own me
Make me never wanna leave
From the undying crowning power
Of your achingly sensational masculinity
Rae Miller Jul 2016
I knelt at an altar of tumors and severed feet,
begged contorted constellations
and unfeeling particles
for a minuscule breath of your luminous brutality,
for the terrible knowing you impart through fever dreams of the flesh.

sweetheart
you came to me
laughing venomous tides of fury and revulsion

forcing your unyielding fingers
into my open mouth,
gone slack with involuntary music;
a baby bird, warbling frenzied, desperate songs,
imploring eternity
for a taste of forbidden worms.

you split the winking aperture
between my thighs with effortless disdain
ate my animal sounds with your
massive hands and the slickness of your sulfured tongue,
murmured of filth and carrion,
poured monstrous poetry into the holes in my head,

until alpha and omega erupted
through my corrupted cells;
miraculous fetters
engineered to hold
sparks of God's fire in captive isolation.

shattered and coiled
round the smallest of your fingers,
slave to the fluids
humming through this
heap of tallow and sinews,
a spent marionette
imperfectly rendered by relentless obedience to the stars.
Travis Green Feb 2023
I hanker to be in a thousand and one dreamlands
With his extravagant passionate handsomeness
His sky-high shining sprightliness
His wicked megalithic slickness bewitches me

I lapse into his fathomless strapping splashiness
Anticipating with pleasure to caress
His dopacetic energetic vessel
Peruse the sinewy good-looking beauty
Of his hypnotic glossy body

My keen knockout king
I wanna marvel at the absorbing
And sparkling contours of his form
His unprecedented transcendent resplendency
Sheathed in his eminent sensual virility

My robust smoking dopeness
His unparalleled pleasant-smelling fragrance
Wraps around me like a bright bluebird blue blanket
My hunger grows the more I scope out
His legendary treasured machoness

I feen for his delectable electric freshness
To kiss every extraordinary inch of his skin
Stare into his glittering hickory brown eyes
Drown into his magical terms of endearment

He is a real-life romantic fantasy
An adventurous sensitive dreamboat
The most enthusiastic statuesque smash I have ever seen
I wanna travel below deck

To caress and give him the hottest heavenliest head
Make me choke, let it engross my throat
Bring me under his control
As I console his bold glowing globes

Indulge in his biteable and delightable strikingness
His affectionate reverent elegance mesmerizes me
His superior superb sheerness
Thrills me through and through

With astonishingly marvelous and toned legs
Clean, impeccable feet, overwhelming incredibleness
Red-hot stellar magneticness
He propels me into the grandest enchanting ecstasy

All I wanna do is ******* his grandioseness
Cherish every fraction of his fantasticalness
Until he explodes his sufficient sweet milk
All over my lush chocolate lips
It is the weakness of the flesh,
the sweetness of the sweat
on your skin
what will be the end of me.
.
Because no matter how strong
I am,
you make a quitter of me,
I quit my values and my mind.
.
And it is all worth it, for you,
for the taste of your body, of
your skin,
for the slickness of your lips.
.
Its the sensuality of your eyes
that ignites me entirely from
the inside,
its even hotter than lava.
.
You set my hands on fire
and I can't wait to see the red hot
scorch marks
that I will leave all over your body.
.
It's your tongue making its way
from my lips, to my shoulders and
to my ear,
that makes me fall on my knees.
.
And it is with your every breath
that my entire world goes away,
its shattered,
the pieces lie under your fingernails.
.
I'm left overexposed and alone
lying in bed naked dressed only
with regret,
because of this I have to remain silent.
.
You are fire and I am gunpowder,
you make me explode every time
you touch me,
and I know this is all wrong.
.
You will take me everywhere
from pleasure to agony,
from glory to ruin,
but I know we will meet again.
MS Lynch Jun 2013
An orange glow and bright red teeth,
Oh, darling, won’t you sing me to sleep?
She drank her morning breakfast, Percocet and tea.
She played piano with bitten fingers, feet shaking underneath.
Her daddy taught her years ago, his bitten fingers touched those keys.
I should have beat him at his game, should’ve made them know this name.
She twinkled like a little star, lonely diamond in the sky,
Beautiful and woozy, not perfect like that Lucy.
She’s nothing special, **** sure not pure,
Thought she’d finally found her cure.
She wears those star-shaped sunglasses, knows she’s nothing good,
Smokes cigarettes and Mary-Jane, what are your demons, baby?
I’ll be your demon, baby.
Roof over her head is burning, eyes inside are ice,
She’s glacial and she’s tree bark, she’s a set of loaded dice.
I’ll finally beat him at his game; make that ****** know my name.
He’s gambling with danger, daddy dearest why’d you go?
Hung flowers across her bedroom walls, wilting brown and old.
She likes the smell of rotting, the sly slickness of mold.
Before she was glowing amber, now she’s those fading flowers.
Her lips are blue like the empty bottle on the table.
The TV’s on but only for static, she doesn’t believe in cable.
She didn’t believe in cable.
Just play the piano and please don’t call my mother,
The only friend I ever had besides you was my brother.
He ended up in prison, Father left years ago.
I should have beat him years go.
I should have done this years ago.
I loved you.
Joseph Norris Jun 2013
I believe in broken love and love lost,
Which may seem like two separate things;
However, they are in unison.
Love has grown to become so cliche and overplayed;
But in it's most pure form is spectacular and divine Until taken advantage of.
Love can come young,
but it is rarely understood, ever.
When love is misinterpreted,
There is chance for it to become broken.
Then, after the love breaks,
It leaks out until lost
In a deep ocean of emotions and thoughts.

Three years ago,
My first serious relationship had started.
I was completely clueless to what had started happening.
I knew I had felt different.
I began developing a sense of "we" instead of "me".
I had never been so happy, intrigued, or fascinated.
All this by another mortal human being.

After a few months,
I realized I had finally started experiencing what seemed to be true love;
And as time progressed,
I lost myself
For what I thought was the relationship itself.
I attempted to regain independence,
But one thing lead to another
And hate began overpowering the love and affection.

Though I never left,
I found another lover.
Well, I guess one could say another found me. Misconstruing love and lust,
I drifted into a world of sin and slickness.
My needs were finally being catered to
As I indulged in the best of both worlds.

I felt as if I finally deserved this.
I had been faithful for two years,
So shouldn't I get some free time?
After all, I stayed after they cheated.
They can do the same,
Especially since I won't keep this up for long.
I thought this was acceptable in my own eyes,
Yet I ignored the agonizing conviction that laid within my heart of being wrong.

One night, things had come to a ******
Between the new lover and I.
In the moment,
Boundaries of existence were broken.
However, afterwards I realized I had soiled the upmost precious thing I had ever possessed,
And that would be true love.
How could I have done this for pleasure?

Within a week, guilt had overtaken me.
I had to either come clean or leave.
I knew I would hurt her if I had told the truth
More than if I left.
I said that we were no longer meant to be
Because our love had been broken with fighting and deceit.

She cried for a week,
Begging me to come back.
I realized I had done something so horrid.
I could never take it back.
I left someone good for someone great.
So, why did I feel so bad?

Now, I am without either
Because of the guilt trip I went through.
I had broken a love.
And now, love was lost in the sea of emotions,
Sinking to the infinite depths of darkness
To never be found again.
Travis Green Apr 2023
My sweet, exquisite smoothie
His heavenly transcendent beauty is
Like an infinite pristine sea resplendent
With bright and singular enchantment
So stylishly striking and extra lit with it
So tremendously deep and sick with it

His inventive and highly recommended dreaminess
Seeps into my brain, makes me so wild about
His perfect treasurable manfulness
One of the most glistening and intriguing lads
That attracts my attention, that raps with my senses

As satisfying as it gets, a majestic, beardalicious delight
A stunningly sculptured work of firm futuristic rarity
He is a distinguished sensual symphony
Blossoming in my mouth, an extraordinary work
Of authentic, absorbing art that elevates my gayness
That immerses me in the vastness of his splashiness

He captures fantastical and incomparable magic
I fantasize about sharing our lives
With divine summertime kisses
Make me jazzed up and blissed out
Make me hot as ****, make me erupt
Like an explosion of red-hot fast-moving lava

I wanna sip his flaming rock-solid machoness
Feast on his heavenly edible sweets
Succumb to his brutal hundred-proof thugness
Make me want more of his sexually alluring finesse
Relish in his legendary expressive flex

Deeply infused with grooviness and smoothness
A fierce and devilish joy of artfully gorgeous hotness
With intense, kaleidoscopic hues
So impressively hypnotic and provocative
Such poetic *** appeal that has me
In the grip of his delicious ****-hot slickness

A monumental multidimensional king
That I so zealously anticipate clinging to
Feening for him to conquer me wholeheartedly
Punish me, search through me, make my world
Wanna merge with his to feel his immeasurable immersivity
He moves me through endless licentious dimensions

Pulls me into his ruthless stupendous thunder
Leaves me hot-blooded and lovestruck
My head on his sleek, ripped chest
Caressing his seductive gutbucket
Fondling his long, sturdy, and tattoed arms
Yearning to worship his sheer picturesque world
MacKenzie Turner Jan 2012
she’s only got one arm, but that doesn’t stop her
from playing the piano Tuesdays;
clever girl, she’s got a rig,
three extra pedals to hammer out lower chords,
right hand for the melody.

she thinks often, how convenient for her,
it was her right arm she’d kept,
else she’d have to reach across to play the treble
and that’d make it hardly worth it.

of course, there are some things
what she can’t play perfect, that 's always
frustrating, frustrating,
but it’s the sort of think you put up with
when you are one-armed
and play piano on Tuesdays.

today, as it happens, is Thursday,
a day when she usually (but does not always) dust the piano.

this Thursday she dusts,
though there is not a lot of dust
because she woke up yesterday thinking it was Thursday
and you know how it goes. still,
she runs her dusting wand across the top of the instrument,
over the keys and raises little clouds, to her satisfaction:
if the dust is in the air, then it’s not on the hammers, the cables,
no, only her fingers, five on the ivory.
depositing the duster in its appropriate space—
she is all about space
and all about appropriateness,
there is (she thinks) some of each
for everyone, even if they’re not symmetrical—
she sweeps her hand against its weight
then gasps.

against the familiar grain, cut across
the slickness of its heart-dark lacquer, she feels what was not there yesterday,

a fissure,

in the wood,

a crack.

disbelieving, she puts her eye to it, runs her second finger over, over,
a split down the middle
of the damper cover, wide as a split vein

and a millimeter deeper.
Jimmy King Dec 2013
Ice
Sometimes in fleeting moments,
Usually after you’d been drinking,
And often during those quiet, dark nights
When we’d lye in bed together,
Hands tracing only absence
On one another’s skin,
You’d look at me in this sort of
Fantastical way.

For me, it was always sort of like
Looking out at the ocean
And thinking for a second that you’re seeing
Infinite blue,
Though it’s really just the color of the sky
Reflected.

Even then, in those transient instants
Of eyes meeting for a second too long,
I’d sometimes think just that I’d miss you
As the subject of my poems.

Then the ice storm came.

The slickness of the roads kept me from you
Days before the storm and days after it,
Such that the sharpie and permanence,
With which I once marked the potential for our love,
Is faded now too.

My heart is a million different places, pieces;
A million different people,
Subdivided like America
To its breaking point.

But I brought my pen in from the car today
And the ink is thawing now
Despite the fact that the next love poem it writes
Will be for someone else
(Which is okay-
I think I’m okay.)
The room around me is filled air that feels too tight like ***** hose when I’m on the very edge of going up a size.  You’re sprawled on the bed with the duvet scrunched under your face and between your knees.  Glasses rest by your alarm clock and I’ve woken up before it.  The hands are unreadable and I make another note to go to the optometrist sometime soon.  

I sit up and stare at you, the worry lines relaxed.  Twenties are when wrinkles start and sometimes I can see yours growing on me.  I see the sunlight drift over the planes of your face, touching your stubble and the patchwork skin you’ve worried on your lower lip; for a moment, I’m reminded of the last time my teeth caught on the slickness of your bottom lip and I smile.  The plywood box spring creeks under me and your eyelids flutter and I about face.  Somehow, sleeping with someone, being in love with someone, namely you, doesn’t give me the permission to drink in the naivety present in your morning rest.  Your arms around me in all the nights before didn’t excuse me from invading your space in the first moments of this day.

I stare out the window at a train passing by.  It’s better to stare at graffiti-clad cars I’ve seen a thousand times before in this railroad town than for you to see me watching.  You watch my frame fake interest in the engine outside and I feel the corners of your smile grasp the edges of my matching pajama set I picked out specifically for nights spent next to you.  I hear you call me cute and tell me good morning and I feel the blood rise to my cheeks as I realise you’ve been awake this entire time.
Anna Zagerson Jul 2012
I will find you when you come to me
Like in tales of men on white horses
Hidden in chain mail, wrapped in my ghosts
I lounge by secret still pools, brushing green grass with my hands
Feeling sensuous in my own skin
Feeling drafts lift my hair as I wrap myself over my knees
I will find you when you find me
Like in movies with lonely people
Hidden behind microwaved dinners, drowned in glasses of wine
I stir coffee cups languidly, tracing the round rims with my fingers
Feeling ground bean slickness on my skin
Feeling the apartment empty around me.
Travis Green May 2023
His splashiness is immaculate
Like a priceless eye-grabbing statue
Like a cloudless tranquil night
Like a refreshing shimmering realm
Of polished macho hotness

I wanna dive into his rare matchless submerged mind
Relish his eclectic magnetic flex
Loving the sensuous scent of him
I yearn to journey through his maze
Of earthy, mysterious peerlessness

Admire how he shines like innumerable brilliant stars
Capture my sweet southern heart and soul
Let his dancing and illuminating flame burn through me
Take me down, make my mouth water
Dominate me in every way that makes me crave
His radiant sensational manfulness forever and a day

Search into my secret center
Send me into endless seamless trances
Permeate my flesh with moistness
Feel him traversing through my core
Adoring my sweet warmth

Be my firm, assertive heavy-hitter
Show me how he handles business
Let me worship his deliciousness
So beardalicious and swaggalicious
Such ideal prodigious slickness
I wanna feel him bust through the door of my inner world
And govern my guts with his untouchable humongous wood
Travis Green Aug 2022
Temptingly creamy white dreaminess
Glistening gilt-edge freshness
Slick rippling muscles
Prominent popping pecs
Let me check out and caress
Your tight tumescent crests
Lick the deep smooth grooves
Of your flashy flat abs

Swivel my hands on your impeccably
Transfixing biceps
Slide my glossy caramel mocha lips
Across your sculpted statuesque shoulders
Hold on to your delectable eye-catching back
Feel your hands trailing the silky sweet spots
Of my delightful, fine-***** body

Captivate my luxuriously ripe and plump bacon hangers
Gnaw on my rosy ravishing points
Put me under your stone smashing spell
Perform magic all over my generously
Glorious and proportioned form
Make me feel your heavily built architecture
The sensation of your everlasting ecstatic captivation
Cascading across my nation

Your red-hot star-studded seduction
Invades my wall of senses
Leaves me undefendable
Feeling your inner burning storms
You fill my entireness with wild stupefying wonder
Entrap me in your vigorously sturdy grasp
Melt my homosexulness
Hold me in your youthful, legendary, and dazzling power

Scrutinize my life and dreams
With your beguiling ice blue eyes
Lick your sexually exciting strawberry pineapple lips
Navigate the tasty trail of body hair
Going down your highly enticing and private center
Grab and snack on your beefy brick-hard burrito
Applaud it, rock it, swallow it
Crawl my fingers around its solidness
Take it down the sound fountain of my throat

Plant sloppy ****** kisses on his full dreamy danglers
Make you blossom like a wondrously
Exotic and sweet-smelling orchid
Make your temperature climb
With the thrilling libidinous tricks of my tongue
Take you in like you are my killer quick fix
**** it, ******* it, please it, pour my sweetness all over it
Bop my head, shake up your headspace
As you gaze in awe at my mouth game
Caught up in my breathtaking blaze of gayness

Make you feverish, feenin’ for me like red licorice
Treasure your pumping *** gun
Feel your deepest exquisite heat rush through me
Cause my sparkling chocolate cinnamon eyes to become watery
Constantly thirsting for more of thee
Lick and nibble at your thickness
Feel thunderous jaw-dropping explosions
Burgeoning in my head

So impossibly soft on your hypnotic and indomitable charm
The **** ebullient essence
Of your universally stalwart astonishingness
Embedded deep in my unconscious mind
You speak hard-hitting lecherous words
To my heart and soul
Shock my jaws with your country thick head
Make me submit to your ardent eye-popping slickness
As you come to a stunningly heart-pumping crescendo
And shoot lekker banana juice everywhere on my clammy face
The slickness of a blade
pressing against a throat....
the cold steel meeting tender flesh
blood drips and a body tumbles

the taste.... the sight... the sound....
all quite euphoric.....

Ripped clothes, smashed items,
echo screams, and the raging fires that glow throughout the night

The beauty.... the savagery.... the destruction
all quite euphoric....
Travis Green Aug 2020
Ever since you took me under your wings of slickness
and masculinity, swimming down below the ocean
floors of your soul, every secret exposed, slow stroking
the greatest bridges of your tender chest and abs, such
radiancy, endlessly sparked by your muscled maze, how you
lured me into your titillating mansion of manhood,
filling me with diamond treasure, my core, every pore,
every anticipation and exhilaration igniting joyous sounds
in me as you stayed in my maze, sexing me up.

You gave me so many carnal pleasures, transformed
into flowery delight by your blue lightning storm,
a silky syrup of scented blossoms and tasteful honey
rotating in my nation, breaking me apart so sensually,
treating me like I was the only girl in the world,
searching into my soul, your lips tongue-kissing mine,
my inhibitions sinking, channeling your nakedness
into a sheer iambic pentameter, into amorous details
painted in vibrant watercolor hues, embodying all
the wonder and flamboyantly prized designs.
It's quiet at six
Before the slickness of the easy day comes out to lay..
..its traps.
And I wrapped up in a dufflecoat
Sail out on the street as if in a boat..
..gliding..sliding..riding the waves of snow.
I shall not slip
I have a grip on things

Winter brings me so much joy
Once..
..I didn't like the cold..preferred the warmer climes
How times change..how lines rearrange the face of man
And now..as happy as I am and can possibly be
Free to build..freed fulfilled.
I listen to the sound within the sound of six o-clock
The quiet knock..
Which..will one day arrive to tap upon this door
When silence is the more or less
And I confess..I listen very carefully..a bit of apprehension..see

Today is not that day and that lays easy on my mind.
So many things to search..to find
The glowing of my nose tells me the snow's still falling
Calling me to play..make hay...Another day..
And again it's six o-clock.
F White Mar 2013
Bad news here-
and I have to let it settle and
diffuse
sprinkle it over the surface of my shield
like salt.
lest the slickness not melt
on the bumpy road to their
Path and force a crash.

What I hear...
I can feel it-
want to let sink into my heart- but
To be their defender... must hide my eyes,
avoid their wounds.
Lest I faint, fall, falter.

So instead I send it
to heaven
Courage, Strength, Hope

Hope someone up there can...

is listening...
copyright fhw, 2013
Andrea Schmidt Oct 2016
Clear, gushing currents make their way through moss-
y boulders; frosts chilly fingers past broken shores.
My toes kiss dancing pebbles, where the water lusts
for land. Accosted by the water’s eager
pull, my feet explore the slickness. The cold
attacking pure white limbs as I extend
and press into the ebb. The river moves
to grab my shivering leg, threatening with
seductive ease to rip me past
the surface, into dark, aggressive depths.
Anchored only by tingling toes, I’ll fall
if tiring muscles fail. Breathing, standing,
I feel the aching rush of currents. Then a simple
slap from a passing trout condemns
me to the murk that’s crying past. Stop.
Endure the numbness. My body
deserves to drown, for letting curious limbs
betray. I dream one day, I’ll delve
past new and pulsing streams to
a shore with both legs firmly
planted, closed, and clean.
When our curiosity takes us to depths we weren't anticipating, and we blame ourselves for the pain that comes. But in the end it's the mistakes that make the desired future possible.
Rowan S Jan 2019
Every noise slithers 'cross
My ear drums with
The cool slickness of a
Sandpaper serpent
My skin pulled tight
'Cross my raw nerves
Nerves
Stretched stiff as a drum skin
Upon which beats this
Percussive tattoo of wild instinct
I clamp my eyes, vice-like
"Please let me wake"
But no
In this misty dream realm
I remain tethered, chained
Stuck in a sarcophagus
               of
Strangled Silence
Waking from a night terror, half in, half out of sleep. Never sure which is reality.
jessica obrien Nov 2021
/ˈvis(ə)rəl/

vis

—as if you could twist out your arm,
hand clawed,

wailing pagan poetry with the clinically insane
who have feigned recovery to get out &
proclaim it an escape, as if you could leap
away from already being gone.



(ə)

mattress on the living room floor.

rhinestone. ashtray. loose eyelash.

—as if you might lick the slickness of your
image in the bathroom mirror & instead,
taste the texture of flesh.



rəl

—as if you could feel the weight of gravity
spin, mouth open now: tin. blister. wool.

wrist-bone; book page. charcoal briquette.

clavicle; over burner coil. burnout velvet.

jawbone; wooden oar. dollar bill.

earlobe; baby’s breath. jingle bell.
You're a mean one
Mr. *****
You really are an eel
You're as affable as cancer
And your laughter doesn't stick
Mr *****
*****
You're a two bit phony
One trick pony with...
Little to no *** appeal!

You're a shyster
Mr. *****
Your mark's a hallow roll
Your game is pulling wires
Framing "liars" is your goal
Mr *****
*****
You have all the elusive fleeting of a
twice repeating
CEO board meeting!

You're a sly one
Mr. *****
You have silver on your teeth
You have all the slender slickness
Characteristics of deceit
Mr *****
*****!!!

Given the choice between you and cancer it may take me a while to answer but I think that I would rather take my chances with the....
TERMINAL LIFESTYLE!!!!!!
Always wanted to do this one. I do not own any of the rights to this original work which belongs to Dr. Seuss but you all know that it's meant to be read with that rhyme scheme in mind.
Jor For Sep 2016
"Oh my God- make them like a wheel"

Make them scatter like a gallon of dropped mercury, beading and pooling in their hot slickness.
    
Let them roll and shine like the diamond dress shaking as maracas shake slithering over Tina Turner's thighs with white knuckled, refracting fingers.
  
God willing, may you play it in reverse- scratch the film with burning fingers. Make the appearance of lighting emanating from your monochromatic super powered you.

  May you be blessed by holding tight to the time of the three F burden. Let them burden you wholly. Those three brothers: Fight, ****, and Flee.  Do them all at once: **** your urge to Flee and Fight your your own insecurity .

"Oh my God- make them like a wheel"
Leslie Ledezma Dec 2017
Heard you’ve enticed fortune
All I see is that you’re much too
Engrossed on where to go now
Revelry magnetizing night into day
from your soul, telling me only a queen
could be enthralled by theses things

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway right into daylight, wander bold to a million’d direction
Coolness leaning on a bookshelf, precious dawn lingering all around
Everybody awes to you, my ridiculous, strangely pure, strangely pure

The same gilded sun of western dreams
It shines so copper and lone for kinds as us.
Lord grant me ancient desires was on your mind.
How’d I know, well in how you live in bliss
Easily dismiss, with looking up wondering eyes

Halls here are devoted to paradise with richly intricate walls
Much like you, said it’s a journey if you’re aware
Be sagacious, take me real far, match box says welcome to LA
Queen of the roadhouse, windows inviting wild wind
Getting ahead of the dawn, we’ve long since started.

Heard you’ve always liked those
With eyes gleaming wild
Man, they say you’re outrageous
Yeah, beautiful, mysterious – reveling finds you
It’s free and lush music, my direction,
Don’t fear welcome to deathlessness

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway into evening, writing verse as if you breathed it
Slickness on a sleek car, precious desert lingering around
Everybody loves you, vulgarly more, strangely pure, strangely pure

The lovely joys from the beginning of time
Sweet song of the blues when sung so soothes
Lord grant me endless endeavors was on your mind
Setting your sleep aside, driving in neon haze, closed eyes
Then you say, get up sunny wondering eyelashes

Glittering like a lagoon, isn’t it – jump in too!
Are you mad, like a wild cobra, pretty but I know you’ve power
I mean, they see you laughing, striking, phrases of genius
Adored with mystery like divine sudden messages
But loving the fun, dreaming of flying near the sun, arrows sent first

— The End —