"smoothest" poems
Most heavenly of places, this world now
Of endless beauties, a sight that wows
They're statuesque and wax-like, but hey don't fret
No wrinkles to combat, nor ripples of fat
Gazing into their arresting green eyes
That of the rabbit's, resemblance lies
Uncanny it is, this puzzling scene
Manufactured they are, from the same jellyfish gene
And since its time to seek paradise,
My wandering hands caress the prize
To search for weakness, now I must
No amount of fondling, stirs any lust
I've come so far, and this is what perfection costs?
The smoothest of skin, has left all thumbprints lost
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
Compliments to the baker
and so too my Barista
Smoothest crema on the tongue
juxtapose to lemon vapour.
Intense acute sensations
insist I close my eyes
Submit in rare humility
in awe of nature's true franchise.
Clarion note of citron zest
resounds on mellow creamy seas
Mediterranean sun distilled
now is witnessed here in me.
Tempered, rounded bitter hues
from Amazonian dark recess
waited aeons to infuse
and bring about this wanton bliss.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Monday nights on earth
A choice of two remedies
Warm me up at home or in the new place in westlake?
But first
Which way, to which way goes the winds?
Windy libra evenings blow all around me.
After all, what did I expect when venus stays above this part of town.
There is refuge from this cold
uptown
in the cafe on Lennox.
It was here that I met deep purple eyes.
The ones filled with magic, luxury, and the smoothest contact.
They cried the kind of warm purple tears that are hard to describe.
You taste like velvet feels.
You taste like twinkle sounds.
Have you ever had lavender hot chocolate on a cold Monday night?
Interesting because neither have I.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:31 AM UTC
When the morning came up
I woke up
Facing that holy dead body of yours
I looked over myself and blushed
I was only wearing the smile that you gave me
Remembering what happened last night
Couldn't handle it, so I held you tight
Oh God!
You smell like heaven
Your aesthetic shape just turns me on
No philosopher, no scientist, no religionist, no therapist could solve my issue
Staring at your pale skin
Oh god I just wanna sink in
The way you shrink in
When you sleep
Makes me wanna stop time
Just to enjoy this visual masterpiece for a lifetime
The way I feel
In every holy step you make
Discovering every inch of my body
Sculpting blue love marks on the borders of my neck
The touch of your lips
Mesmerizing me as if I'm watching an eclipse
The movement of your fingertips
Dancing the smoothest choreography from my chest running down reaching my hips
Your husky deep voice
Eargasming my ears
Oh my God!
I'm lying down next to my treasure
Wake up and give me that painful pleasure
I love to suffer
Attach me to your bed with a tie made of a fancy leather
**** me slowly
Heal me
Take me to your world
Fill me in
Stick with me
Make our bodies as if they are one
Let's hear our hearts bumping our hot blood
Harmonizing the beat in the same rhythm
Creating our own beautiful symphony
And that when I finally moaned
" Wake up! You are my sweetest agony "
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides.
Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening.
I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds.
I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style.
Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt.
I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space.
She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels.
The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission.
Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics.
So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene.
They step and speak short.
She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter.
Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows.
So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting.
She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep.
So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status.
I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges.
So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers.
Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile.
That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows.
Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty.
To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander.
Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.
The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry
Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-Petrouchka's march - the slight
Wry sniggering shadow in front of the morning, turning at noon, behind towards night.
The plumed cavalcade has passed to tomorrow, is lost again;
But the wisecrack-mask, the quick-flick-fanfare of the cane remain.
Diminuendo of footsteps even is done:
Only remain, Don Quixote, hat, cane, smile and sun.
Goliaths fall to our sling, but craftier fates than these
Lie ambushed - malice of open manholes, strings in the dark and falling trees.
God kicks our backsides, scatters peel on the smoothest stair;
And towering centaurs steal the tulip lips, the aureoled hair,
While we, craned from the gallery, throw our cardboard flowers
And our feet **** to tunes not played for ours.
2.6k
Attend my lays, ye ever honour’d nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather’d race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow’rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my ***** rise.
See in the east th’ illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away—
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th’ abortive song.
2.3k
How I long for your presence, my Beloved
I long to gaze into your eyes
Like the most precious gems
And find the completeness of my soul
I long to feel your hair
Like the smoothest of silk
And feel the warmth of our Love
I long to inhale your scent
Like the finest perfume
And experience the euphoria of our Love
I long to kiss your lips
Like the sweetest of wines
And become intoxicated by you
I long to caress your body
Like the most tender of embraces
And feel the comfort of your presence
How I long for your presence my Beloved
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 10:07 PM UTC
You're good for me like penicillin.
But I haven't popped enough of you yet.
Sightings of you as rare as an eagle,
The rare occasion I feel like a human.
Your purity is beyond belief,
like the cleanest **** on the street,
Your skin is the smoothest white marble
You're like renaissance art
I would quit all of my bad habits
just for a day in your presence
I wouldn't need another sip of *****
or sweaty fumbling in the back of a car
How do I tell you how I'm feeling
With a keytar and shaker at your door?
Could I win a joust for you?
I would invent electricity if I could.
But that's it, you demigoddess
You're boarding now a flying syringe
******* the life of me with every inch
What's blood for if not for spilling?
To me, you are perfect, love
A hologram i'm not allowed to touch
My tangled heart with stay right here
and pump occasionally for you my dear
10.13.12 1:20 AM
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 10:21 AM UTC
you crashed into me like waves
pulling me under, drowning me
as your lips met mine, i lost my breath
your taste filling my lungs like water
you touched me as if i was the smoothest seashell on the beach
your tongue felt like sand as it traced my thighs
i became a hurricane with you
nothing could stop my love for you
then you found a pearl
you tossed me back onto the sand
my storm slowly went away
as i watched you touch her just like you use to with me
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
I don't think I'd mind
To have you in my life even though I'm not sure who you are
You're gorgeous though
Subtle smile with your fullish or small lips I don't know I caught a glimpse
Kind eyes whatever color they may be
Hands as rough as the smoothest layer of your delicate skin
Your hair is quite beautiful with it's ever changing color and length
I'm writing about you cause I care about you or well I think I plan too
I get confused sometimes I just wish you'd finally tell me your name
I think the best thing about not knowing anything about you
Is when I do meet you whether you have anything of what I said above
I'll love you.
I have no idea what you are like in the slightest
My own insanity has created a picture of unbelievable pseudo-realism
Peace in war showed me some love or maybe the love showed war that even in war, love can cause some
peace
I guess my hearts a warzone looking for some peace needing some love
I just hope it finds that blank slate soon babe
If you turned to me now
I could only say this
"*Now if you're scared to death like me
But you'll not get a bit of rest
For the pounding and calling at a door in your little chest
If you're scared to death like me, close your eyes
Just close your eyes*."
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
"look at the pretty colors!" you whispered as you pointed to the sky
i watched them as they went by
the feeling of myself floating on the clouds with you was too real
i remembered you reaching for my hand
telling me it was the smoothest one you've ever felt
how you never wanted to let go
i held onto your soul and kissed it
making sure you knew i worshipped you
for the drugs were making me forget
but i wanted to remember this moment forever
you told me it was the shrooms
that made you say those things
yet i didnt want to believe you
for the trip caused you to fall in love with me
i was only good enough to provide the love when you needed it
i thought the love was me
my presence
my smooth hands
the clouds
but i soon found out
it was just the drugs
it was just the shrooms
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Barely Legal
Wouldn't change a thing, even if I could,
when I see her, I always sport a wood.
She is so very fine,
seeing her puts me on cloud nine.
Best *** I have ever seen,
hard to believe she is still a teen.
Between he thighs is the Bermuda triangle,
I get lost, but its something I can handle.
Smoothest skin you'll ever feel,
got turned down, but I applied for an appeal.
Hair is down to her ankles,
have to be careful when I light candles.
Our relationship is one of love and hate,
every topic is a heated debate.
She only likes me for my third leg,
to get her, I must always beg.
Our age difference doesn't matter,
I'm always on deck, to be the next batter.
She is not even old enough to drink,
but on the inside, its always pink.
She calls me her sugar daddy,
I always end up being her caddy.
She cheats on me every chance she gets,
but I still have no bitter regrets.
She moved in and steals all my money,
but she is more sweet than any kind of honey.
She is the most sexiest stripper,
I will always be the biggest tipper.
Then one day she was gone,
she used me just like a pawn.
She took my money and stole my new car,
she is now the biggest **** star.
The ***** never did pay me back,
now she is addicted to ****** and crack.
Tracked her down and got her rehabilitated,
she is now truly vindicated.
She lost the devil and found god,
well that's what she calls me, when riding my rod.
It truly is good to be the king,
she's now my queen, not just an expensive fling.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
Mellow.
It's such a peaceful word.
Don't you think so too?
Reminds me of the smoothest stone,
Stepping in from the cold at night,
Clutching onto the warmth,
Making you feel ever so mellow.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
The sunken island stretches far behind;
Upon this makeshift vessel out at sea—
Running. Running from home to be free.
How droll to be running from home,
From faces I love, whom at first seemed so kind.
But love cannot thrive where one is alone.
Forced into rituals absurd, ha!
I’d have died a thousand deaths before,
For my heart has always desired different,
As these waves that flow against the current—
Not the smoothest road taken,
But one that nonetheless reaches an end.
The Sapphire Dome fades into the distance:
I shall miss its faint glimmer,
As it flows into the Sunken City;
The sight of the sun as the sky grows dimmer.
But the people may live as they would,
In the shells of their minds—
Afraid of change and aught remotely close—
Forcing ritual upon ritual
On each child that longs to be free.
Through the mist, the island Omninada,
Trees bordering its mountains grand
And white smoke wafting from its sand.
I clasp the chartreuse dagger on my side,
The only friend I’ve known.
A new land and a new life—
A new name I’ll of course condone.
A boy of mine own fragile stature
Requires quite an entrance . . .
A vicious gust of wind befalls the boat!
Beyond the spumes of brine,
An eddy I see forms beneath,
And I am hanging for my life and dagger.
The precious metal flies
And I am ****** into the water’s depths.
Eyes of brilliant em’rald meet my own
Before I fall into immediate slumber.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
Jagged green talons,
shoot through gold dust,
marred only by the glimmer
of the mid day solstice.
Curving misty granules
Mask temperamental land:
Tracing paper haze
Swirls of glistening sand.
Bending hills blend
Precious pallid dust
With one layer of
Whipping wind.
Your blustered footprint
Get's carried away;
Bullied by nature's
Ethereal motion.
You’ve walked for miles
Dry and lagging among
Miniature valleys of Earth's
Smoothest round stalactite.
Hear the luscious,
Climactic ocean breeze
Speak salty psalms, from
Deepest blue parchment.
The serrated cliff-face
Positioned between
The vast curvature
of the sea and dunes.
Dogtooth black vertigo
With specks of white refrain,
Which drip back down
To the tenacity of the waves
As tides rise, patience falls.
Worn away, smooth again
As a brief, conjugative
Swill of realisation
Washes out lifes impurities
Cleansing boredom into
Calm; see a metropolis
Submerge in the tide.
The landmarks and history
Are but bricks, mortar
And washed up stories
Which float away to sea.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
When I was little, I had a blanket
Not a regular blanky either
The smoothest, most wonderful one
Hand sewn by my great grandmother Charlotte
Now all we have of hers other than a
Dresser, rocking chair, and picture or three
I didn't realise it then, but it had a heart design
Of faded green, and brown and red-orange
And off-white
I don't remember much, but I do remember
I could be completely enveloped within
Still can, and this is no huge blanket
Perhaps five by three feet, and ugly as heck
But so wonderfully made and beautiful
Soft and love infused
I thought we didn't even have it anymore,
But then I rediscovered it,
Now I can't live without it
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
“Come with me” I said
I’ll take you away to Neverland
Where there’s no worry in the world
You’ll never have to work hard again
Come on you must learn to fly
It isn’t hard, close your eyes
Ponder joyful thoughts
You barely need to try
A place where you’ll never grow old
A place where you are free
You’ll feel you were twelve again
Although you’re eighty three
Second star to the right
And straight on till morning
It’s a vacation for them
But home to me
Adventures in endless summer
Flying at the speed of light
Sleep all day
And play all night
A realm where you never age
A paradise, a heaven
You’ll feel like a kid again
Although you’re ninety seven
They sing songs of love
The pirates have all gone
The fairies above
Listen to their songs
At night we’d swim in the mermaid lagoon
And stare up at the big blue moon
But deep inside, I knew
They want to leave soon
Exploring a whole Neverland
Having treasure hunts
Making friends with Indians
All the way in Never Neverland
The crocodile’s clock is loud
Tick tock
Tick tock
It was time
My friends, they were all tired
They wanted to leave
I couldn’t make them stay
It’d be selfish of me
No more flying in the clouds
Swinging from leafy vines
I knew I'd had given them
The time of they lives
So I took them home
And a thought hit me
It was so abrupt
Maybe it was time for me
To grow up
Yes, a new adventure to begin
The quest to be a man
But won’t forget
And may yet still return
To Neverland
They place where it’s always summer
Where there’s the smoothest sand
Where you’ll fall in love
All the way in Never Neverland
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
Love me. Praise me. Fear losing me.
Tell me, if not else, that I am all you see.
Crave me. Want me, forever and always.
Make me feel important in all your able ways.
Seek me in your sleepless hours of night
or moments of bliss or tormentous plight.
Journey the roughest or smoothest of roads
Share with me, always, all of my loads.
For sometimes, I'll be right, and seldom be wrong
But still I want to be your heart's only song.
Despite subtle danger, you must be beside
Me; stay with me, my love, wherever I hide.
Remind me so often, how much me you love
As though I'm a blessing from heaven above
*For you are my blessing from heaven above.
I'll remind you, so often, how much you I love.
I'll stay with you, my love, wherever you hide.
Despite subtle danger, I must be beside,
You, who I want, you are my heart's only song.
Though sometimes you'll be right, or seldom be wrong.
I'll share with you, always, all of your loads;
Journey the roughest and smoothest of roads.
In moments of bliss and tormentous plight,
I seek you even in my hours of night.
You are so important, I show you this way.
I crave you. I want you, forever and always.
I tell you, if not else, you are all I see.
I love you. I praise you. I so fear losing you.*
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
I realised I loved you
When I realised
That you're much more than the softest words,
Stitched together in smoothest cursive,
To produce the most beautiful poem.
You're much more than any word I could use to paint you with and though, the playfulness in your innocent smile deserves a chapter written all about it, you'll always be much more and nothing like the comparisons I use. And I admit it.
And when your decision to never write about me, slowly started making sense, that was when I realised I loved you.
I realised I loved you,
When you taught me
That most of the things I found romantic, are not really love. When you made me question the way I looked at you and through the crumbling foundations, I realised, that what they call love, is usually endless needing. And love does not always need, but love always wants.
And love chooses. Love chooses to work hard for oneself, and for each other. Love decides to uplift itself. Love does not need you to be its walking stick or support. And I realised I loved you, when I decided to be what I needed from you, so you can see that I want you to stay around, for all your charms and wit and not because I'm a paralysed mess when you're gone.
I realised I loved you,
When I found that no people you love are supposed to be answers, or a destination to a long quest, no. You're not my favorite poetry, or my home, or a problem. But a person who I want to share these with. No, You're not the sun light filtering through the leaves, or the sound the water makes as it falls down a lake. You're not calmness personified and no, you're not some superhero looking for a maiden to help.
You're a human being. All sweat and farts, skin and bones, perfect moments and flaws. You're a human. And not a word I could twist around to shape any way I want.
You're messy handwriting, and heart beating for itself. I realised I love you, when I realised that my heart wanted to beat for itself too. And maybe, just maybe sometimes when we are together, our heart will beat in sync. Or not. It really does not matter. Cause we are much more than all of this.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 3:40 PM UTC
Back home, the snowflakes flitter
down
languidly
as if avoiding the sameness of the blanket below.
The fragrance of black coffee,
a conversation in subtle tones, and
Miles Davis’s smoothest meanderings
waft in from the study.
Bruise-blue flames give the room
a soft glow, lending a gentle luster to the cat’s
matte black fur, spine arched in luxurious mid-stretch.
Back flush to the ground, I take it all in with
young eyes, young ears, hungry for those
sensory delights. Soon, the flames
fade into simmering, lightless embers,
as the final barely-blown note dwindles.
She whispers “goodnight” in that familiar, hushed
voice, ending a vivid memory with a sweet refrain.
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 3:23 AM UTC
A bee whistles past his ear
He feels the sound . . he doesn’t care
Averts his eyes in case there’s others
Raises his hands to fix his hair
Divorced from reality somewhat: from feeling.
Or at least extremes of:
Never exceeding amounts unfeasible:
Pertaining to the limits thereof:
Plateaued at governable levels in present:
Exempt from enth
Kept in check
His whistle wet & he’s well fed
Real words strewn along the ground
Discarded leaves fallen
Left decaying: mostly forgotten
His pants look to him pantaloons
For the good they do representing him
the man chases an end necessary; resenting
not waning, he feigns stoicism
then his creeping cynicism clouds his eyes
‘u know what buddy, u can honestly get ****** he says ‘the 1st world cries the loudest; but is softest. Thinks it is toughest; it is weakest, smoothest, creamiest.’
‘u know what buddy u are honestly right’ he says to himself not wanting to admit to himself that he agrees with himself,
but despite this all, his gaze’s focus still lowers
the edges become softer
& he does what he does
he wraps up in his blanky
with his bottle; safe under cover
among some big ******* to feel warm
but the swarm of bees they circle
twitching fever; rippling waves
hope to god that they don’t sting you
as u hide & feel their sway
lapping closer swooping hawk like
collective wind; they rearrange
and then
they push left !swoop! they raise u up,
( a cloud of black and brown and yellow arches and hums, hums like a razor on steroids, seeping potent purpose, pushing, coming: close your eyes for impending hell)
leaving bumps that swell and burn, they grab, they encase, they consume, they drive, they raise and they push
and they deliver u
and u obey them
and u relinquish; u fold enslaved
they push u forward !the buzz! it wakes
it makes u groan,
u can’t ignore it
u know u need it
u’ve got to do it
u need to go
toil on & reap the spoils
another set with the walking beige
go here go there: be happy
u have no reason to not this day
just keep on going, mate my mate
lulling deep into the beige
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC
the miles between point a
and b are too many
but as always, the race is on
...and oh, yes
i am in a race
of my own creation
brain calculates and recalculates
eyes darting
vehicles
sunlight
road
mirror
(is that an officer of the law?)
i practice the smoothest curves
fluid motions
but at the same time
sweet sassy maggy
follow the rules
don't forget the coffee for the love of god
make it to the one gas station by 7
for fuck's sake, get around the blue car
the black car
the raggedy old truck
before the exit or you know
you. are. ******* for. miles.
for christ's sake, use all your ******* skill
to get a around a stupid slow truck
farm equipment
or a semi
before thou shall not pass
or you know your rage will be uncontrollable
things are going well
you feel confident...you will be on time
you are flying and no one can touch you
your driving is flawless
that crazy sun is shining
and the bass is vibrating your bones
and then t i m e s l o w s
as William H. Macy, you see it
it's that ******* Kia Sportage
adrenaline shoots into my veins
muscles tense
and i slam into manual
4....3
take that!
woman cruising like you're on a lazy sunday drive
smoking a cigarette like it's 1950.
don't you know that i'm in a race,
and you are my nemesis?
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
clean lines cut shiny wet skin
cold menacing eel eyes meet
a jellybean nose child's sticky fingers,
calculating; deriving the smoothest way
to unfasten Oshkosh suspenders
in a sun-drenched park, with fierce
protectors, and the wrath of an angry God,
one that judges perverse men and protects
innocent children,
but God must be on vacation;
too quickly, aplomb aplenty,
he slithers past the slide where
a trio of blond ringlet drenched heads tantalize
when the boys hop and jump
their curls excitedly bob, mimicking the children's movements.
the man, he waits, tucked
in a leafy green pardah, a veil.
the sun crawls into the clouds;
thunder bellows in the distance,
and like a mercy, a tiny raindrop
hits his eyes, which he has closed
in respect of this jubilant miracle.
the mothers grab their own sticky handed babies
and run for drier places
and safer
though they only heed the rain
and not the man peering from the soaking foliage
flash of lightening.
darkness.
a scream.
silence.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Swinging is the closest I've felt to flying.
Closest to freedom.
And how can freedom be safe?
I can not fly safely.
I can not live safely.
No matter how beautifully it's built,
Even with the smoothest marble,
Or the shiniest metal,
Or the prettiest chains,
Your armor is still a cage.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC