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Elena Mar 24
Do you taste what I taste?
Sipping on our sweet cafe
Spicy nutmeg, sprinkle me
With all your flavors, sing to me
What your buds have held on to
Every flake of cold or warm
Thoughts of wonder, sadness flows
From every ponder, it must know
Shallow waters, dip your toes
Into the deep end, with me
Open closed doors
Surf away, in winds unknown
Till we fall and make a splash
Till we laugh, in arms we shall
Pry the past from my fingers
Kiss my bruised lips,
make softness last.
Ashley Chapman Aug 2018
Here in the morning gloaming
burning
my skin flaming
as I imagine red kisses
from smouldering lips!

How easily
in anticipation
you make me whimper
before with pleasure
making me simper -
each kiss
another hot coal
placed on my rawness
with searing softness.
Charlie's Web Feb 13
How many times must my fists smack your stiffness until you soften?

I don’t want to use my fists, I’m not violent.
Even in defense, words raised to take the hardness,
silently, repeat, repeat.
Raised to repeat, repeat.
I never wanted to be violent.

I don’t want to use my fists, but your stiffness is contagious.
I don’t know how to look at you without them,
smacking every corner, separating hard shells.

I don’t want to use my fists.
my hands,
They’re raw and dry, too sanitized.
and my shell is colliding, oozing, fermenting
into juices of the berries you forbid.
I don’t want to use my fists anymore.
My hands want to open, softly.  
Sweet unfolding fingers
offer demons blessed darlings.
ThePoet Aug 2016
In the softness
of my heart
In the hardness
of my mind
I'm searching
for my hate of
you, but love
is all I find
L B Aug 2018
Bent
Near to breaking
by her burden
of fruit, swollen with seed
In that thrashing by wind
Bearing down on the sun
in her labor—
of  Need
to bear
the pain
to bring
her yield
to his hands—
her harvest
of warm juicy softness


Gone—
the upright
reach of untouchable spring
When stems, stern and smooth
wore a lace-beaded bodice of bloom
of coral chiffon
First leaves
a scarf
with a fringe of lime green
wrapping her gifted and lean
to the buzzing

She was lighter than dew
to the amateur insects
smeared with her

Her only accessory--
a robin
They had left
as evidence
they had ravaged
its song


Now broken and leaking
more damage endured  
Ripe fruit in rough hands
He leans against limbs
by his weight sternly pressed  
so suffused in the fragrance
of peach intoxicants
which he will have--
with ever-deeper shove
of his seed
He is lost to his lust
He is forcing his need
to sink his steak
into another year's beauty

asserting his claim over and over again
of that lost and ancient bounty
Many edits 8-16-18.
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
Birthed by altruism or selfishness,
Motivated by personal gain
Or the forfeiting of a nation;
It's the betrayal of friends,
Country, cause and trust.
Cassius,
Judas,
Benedict Arnold,
The traitor has many personas.

Traitors are hated by those they prefer. (Tacitus)

I forgive those who ****** and steal,
but a traitor, never.
(Zapata)

A nation cannot survive treason from within...
He rots the soul of a nation...
No wise man ever thought a traitor should be trusted.
(Cicero)

Softness to traitors will destroy us all. (Robespierre)

An open enemy, however criminal, is no traitor. (Spooner)

To have a traitor as an ally is to have an enemy in waiting. (Carey)

It is the just decree of heaven that a traitor never sees
his danger till his ruin is at hand.
(Metastasia)

There are but two parties now... traitors and patriots. (U.S. Grant)

If I had one bullet and I was faced by both enemy and traitor,
I would let the traitor have it.
(Codreanue)

There is a special place in hell reserved for traitors. (J. Trudeau)

Every man must be for the U.S. or against it.
There can be no neutrals... only patriots or traitors.
(S. Douglas)

Et tu, POTUS. (F. Lynch)
2020 Campaign Slogan: "Make Rusmerica Great"
daisypunk Oct 2018
o mother star
bright and elating
how may it be that i
could ever shine
with your strength
your grace
your kindness

o mother star
is it not true
that we should all aim
to live with
a purpose above
only ourselves

o mother star
let me be your champion
your paragon of love
my one truest hope
is to be able to
call the sky my own

o mother star
please lend me a wish
any night of my time
so that i may reach
the heights you've set
so dazzlingly high
laura May 2018
stop that.
curtailing the rewards of love
around the softness forming on her face
upon the news, you've broken up
and there's not a chance
of feeling any contrition
because you're all about yourself
most of the time, anyways.

She, wrapped in light and acceptance.
you, in the dark, smelling of bark and river
overnight.

thinking of Her again
stop that.
bythesea Nov 2017
who took away your softness
and made you feel
the harshness of the ocean?
who took your tide away?
your lips tasted of salt once
but the blue dye of your
ocean has begun to fade.
you were then
so plump and mighty,
but today you lie flat
in the shallowest of
water
tangled in the algae
gathered by
your fingers
Cotton Candy Jun 16
i let softness sit in my chest
cotton candy woven between ribs
sweet and light and a bit sticky to the touch,
hard to untangle oneself from

i let softness take a seat at the table
fold its hands in its lap
smile, nod, and listen with joy
such polite company, the kind you hope stays late

i let softness make its home here
to the best of my ability
welcome it openly and appreciate its presence
try and return its kindness
made this as my first poem hence my username lol,,, i'll try to write more often.
patty m Apr 2016
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the blood stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable is a warm caress
each scent a flowered note
sifting softly through air.
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and blue shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
maria Sep 27
“You love everything,” Apathy told me once
as we languished under the sun’s watchful eye,
and Hate nodded its head in agreement.
Well I can’t help it, I was born
cursed with the longing to touch and be touched,
a longing that connects me to my ancestors
and all the previous lovers of the world
History calls me at night to tell me
I’m not the only one who has gone through
the sorrow of wanting to be merged fully with someone
only to find that you, tragically, remain just as whole.
If you’d cared enough to get your hands ***** and
open me up,
you would have found
that there is a softness in my chest
always threatening to implode.
I feel love inside me like an infected wound
and I know it’s going to **** me before it could save me.
I surrender. Logic says it’s suicide—that friend of mine
has always been too blunt—but anyway,
I have grown weary of carefulness.
I am sick to death of being reasonable,
so let me love anyway.
Let it fester.
lX0st Nov 2015
I'm fully aware
Of the sadness in your kiss,
But the softness of your lips
Makes it easy to bear.

And yes, I am conscious
That your kind hands are calloused,
But I will always hold them,
I will always be there.
Antino Art Feb 2018
South Florida
if you were a body part,
you’d be an armpit.

You’d be a bulged vein
on the side of a forehead
forever locked in a scowl
behind sunglasses.

You speak the language of horns
middle name, finger
blood type, combustible

You're a melting ***
that's boiled over the lid
sweating salt water at the brows
eyes red as the brake lights
in the maddening brightness,
you’re torrential daylight
heating nerves like greenhouse gasses
waiting for a reason to explode.

You’re a tropical motilov cocktail
no one can afford
2 parts anger, 1 part stupidity
melting in place, thirsty for attention
full of yourself in a souvenir glass with a toothpick umbrella
You're all image

You’re the curse words breaking out the mouths
of the angry line mob at Starbucks in the morning
You’re the indifferent silence
in the arena at the Heat games leaving early,
showing up late
due to the distance
from Brickell to Hialeah,
West Palm to Pompano
the gap between the entitled and the under-paid
a skyline of condos in a third world country
You’ve always been foreign to me.

You’re winterless, no chill
you attract only hurricanes
and tourists,
shoving anything that isn’t profitable
out of the way like the Irma storm debris
into the backyards of the Liberty City projects,
onto Mount Trash Can off the side of the Turnpike
hidden beneath Bermuda grass, lined with palm trees
you’re cold blooded
crawling with iguanas
blood-******* mosquitos
parking lot ducks and people not afraid to get run over
you get yours, Soflo
and you'll go as low
as the flat roofs of your duplexes
and the incomes that can barely pay the rent to get it
latitude as attitude
temper as temperature
if you were a body part
I swear you’re an *******

south of the brain, one hour
in all directions,
I’d find you.
You’d impose your way
onto my flight to the Philippines,
to Seattle, to Raleigh
You’d follow me like excess baggage,
like gravity,
bringing me back when asked where I'm from:

That area north of Miami, I’d say
(the suburbs, but whatever, we are hard in our own way)
I'd show you off on their map
as if some badge of grit,
certificate of aggression
I know how to break a sweat
walk briskly thru Walmart parking lots, drive evasive
ride storms in my sleep
I know you, I’d say,
“He’s a friend of mine.”
and I’d watch them light up
and recount
the postcards you've sent them
of the sunrise
welcoming brown immigrants
onto white sand beaches
You were foreign to us
yet raised us as your own
in the furnace of your summers
edges sharpened, iron on iron
the forger striking softness into swords
built for survival
I'm made of you

my South Floridian anger cools down
in your ocean breeze

if you were a body part,
you'd be a part of me
a socked foot in an And1 sandal
pressed to the gas pedal
as my drive takes me north
of your borders, far from home
You in the rear view mirror
tail-gating
like a sports car on the exit ramp
the color of the sun
gracie May 13
i don’t want to fall in love
i want to step into it, slowly
like a shower on a monday
morning. warm, easy-on-the
the bones. softness, two hands
to hold and a mouth to tell me
stories. someone to whisper
what-ifs across the wire and
fill the kitchen with kisses
and strawberry cake
i don’t want to fall in love,
i want to make it.
Ashleigh Black Feb 2015
Let me taste your lips
and the softness of your skin
as day turns to night.
CA Guilfoyle Feb 2015
It is nothing hard to reach, looking outward
countless distractions, how they move me about
I play a game, circling moon-blue rings of sky
see a rivulet of stars quiver by.

It is nothing easy, fretful, I tremble with night
dark unnerving path, I run and hide
amble, fumble my way to reach inside.

It is something worthwhile at times to swallow a river
dredge miles of soul, to crumble stony towers
reconstruct this apprenticeship
slipping back into softness.
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.
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