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"stimulating" poems
Umm, the presence and scent of a man Magnetic attraction where his feet stands His natural body charismatic aroma Element of charms, seeping to awaken a woman out a sensual coma Is it his eyes, the soul behind his life’s mysteries Flirtation in his smile, tells me he has an undercover ****** history It is his nose that smells out my charms An enticing deep baritone voice, his spoken words, which turns me on Is it the erratic heartbeat he has for a woman, his passionate relent Stealing my breath, as he tenderly seals my lips in an impassioned moment of content The strength in his biceps His triceps Strong, yet such comforting arms An epitome of steel, circled around a woman in winter life’s storms In the cold of night, his body providing your heated warmth His chest, a hard pillow to tell your doubts, your uncertainties, your fears Pulling you closer onto it, his reassuring words eradicating your tears His intellectual mind to think as a man A stimulating, slam bam and thank you ma’am, or your personal grand slam His weakening love, taking your body beyond the stars Woman from Venus, my handsome Man for Mars His groin, and his family jewels from which it springs forth Erected compass of his wand now pointing North A woman’s reservation to tease, please, stroke, or allow it to choke His loud murmurs shadowing your moans, echoing in the wind **** I love the presence of men, and his undulated carnal sins From the first taste of honey dipped Butter *** me As his giving oral fixation is traveling free Freeing the elixir of juices that deems to flee His hairy legs as he stands to lift my weight In the shower, no wait, as I anticipate Hooking my twerking bait His physique in general…Oh, God thank you Without the scent of a man, we women would not know what to do Your presence to a woman is our earthly food Our je ne sais quoi for our every ****** mood Rather you are standing, lying still, or upside down The blissful 69 number conquered as we’re fooling around My Dream Weaver My distance heartbeat receiver His dripping sweat Droplets to my skin have been met The presence and scent of a man holds me throughout the night as our eyes finally rest
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 10:00 AM UTC
The Scent Of A Man
Umm, the presence and scent of a man Magnetic attraction where his feet stands His natural body charismatic aroma Element of charms, seeping to awaken a woman out a sensual coma Is it his eyes, the soul behind his life’s mysteries Flirtation in his smile, tells me he has an undercover ****** history It is his nose that smells out my charms An enticing deep baritone voice, his spoken words, which turns me on Is it the erratic heartbeat he has for a woman, his passionate relent Stealing my breath, as he tenderly seals my lips in an impassioned moment of content The strength in his biceps His triceps Strong, yet such comforting arms An epitome of steel, circled around a woman in winter life’s storms In the cold of night, his body providing your heated warmth His chest, a hard pillow to tell your doubts, your uncertainties, your fears Pulling you closer onto it, his reassuring words eradicating your tears His intellectual mind to think as a man A stimulating, slam bam and thank you ma’am, or your personal grand slam His weakening love, taking your body beyond the stars Woman from Venus, my handsome Man for Mars His groin, and his family jewels from which it springs forth Erected compass of his wand now pointing North A woman’s reservation to tease, please, stroke, or allow it to choke His loud murmurs shadowing your moans, echoing in the wind **** I love the presence of men, and his undulated carnal sins From the first taste of honey dipped Butter *** me As his giving oral fixation is traveling free Freeing the elixir of juices that deems to flee His hairy legs as he stands to lift my weight In the shower, no wait, as I anticipate Hooking my twerking bait His physique in general…Oh, God thank you Without the scent of a man, we women would not know what to do Your presence to a woman is our earthly food Our je ne sais quoi for our every ****** mood Rather you are standing, lying still, or upside down The blissful 69 number conquered as we’re fooling around My Dream Weaver My distance heartbeat receiver His dripping sweat Droplets to my skin have been met The presence and scent of a man holds me throughout the night as our eyes finally rest
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43
A gentle breeze Forever remembered A luscious glade Cold under your feet A rich blue sky Seemingly unreal Beautifully arousing aromas Tasting without touch Pleasingly soft sand To bathe yourself in A sensuous bed of leaves To wrap yourself in A pleasurably warm ocean Stimulating your senses Lustful love Forever wanting Incapacitating desire Depriving your concentration You lose yourself In natures tempting ways Seducing you to stay
0
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Life
My lips stroll along sultry soft skin I close my eyes , and see your curves with my kisses, fingers caressing your belly in infante swirls as if polishing the porcelain surface of a statue, You lay entranced beneath my gentle stroking , your tummy stimulating the rest if your senses, ******* yearning for attention , Strings of a harp waiting to make music, my canvas , your desirable body, ****** finger painting I meet your lips with mine , for your stamp of approval, my hands answer the call , My warm breath , Brushes your neck with the stroking of ****** feathers , Intensifying the raging desire within your ***** , Remnants saliva painted with my tongue evaporates into more of a magnetism, you open yourself to me, The weight of my passion envelops you Our tongues dance to the rhythm of our beating hearts Blood flows through our veins at an increasing temperature Ignited only by the meeting of our lips. Intensified My hands continue to brush your body , Answering all the yearning calls , I watch you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, And I continue to stoke the fire And with a burning wave of passion, Enfolded bodies I simply love you off to sleep .......
0
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Intimate
Fabricated. Fictitious. A fake floating feeling Falls short Of my fleeting fantasy. This insidious infirmity Isn't what I intended. I've been inflicted With internal indisposition. In need of an ideal identity. Who am I without This ****** to make me whole? How do I heave my heart Away from this hole? Have you seen how hard this is? But it's been short of a year, Of believing I can simply be. And before I break Bleed me of my bane. And for me, bear no malice. Tightly take me Away from my terible tempest. Time tells me it's time to stop. Too long I've tortured my tenemet. Tame the tantrum tearing through me. Sober seems strong, But it's systematic survival. Stopping the surrender To something stimulating. Learning to stand sedated. No I'm no longer numb. No longer neglecting my need For new novcane. Knowing I'll never need This vaccine again. You are all my ambition. Dispelling my ailments And afflictions. I am hard to adore, I know. You are my new addiction. You have me dreaming, Praying we are real. Made me feel. Don't decieve my brittle belief. Keep me, don't leave. I'm not the kind to fly. For you i'd try to dive. Unafraid I might die. I don't hide from the night. This is what I've been trying to find.
0
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Tip of the tongue the teeth and the lips
"Purple Orchid" A symbol of rare beauty Exotic. Delicate. Mysterious Precious, in every way Lost in a tropical land of Purple Haze, I am there Whispering with a tinge of Innocence yet wild With passionate dark desires. A calm stability of blue and The fierce energy of red Stimulating mystery and thrill, A darkened flower Of refined passion With strikingly lush petals, Intoxicating. In his mind, I am A Purple Orchid
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Purple Orchid
Be my novel tonight Allow me to navigate the depths of your thoughts and journey through the pathways of your mind while merging in my imagination and infusing in my wildest poetic fantasies.  Inscribing in our bedpost an unforgettable bestseller. Be my music tonight Let me groove to the beat of your heart picking up pace as I explore new ways to invoke melodious outbursts. I want to sing a duet with you of synchronized moans and pleasurable sighs.  Culminating with you belting out my name in one final perfect note. Be my masterpiece tonight Permit me to trace my fingertips across every inch of your frame as I find your sensually stimulating spots. Armed with new knowledge and intent, sit back as I stroke you with my brushes of desire and take you on a creative adventure of twists and turns as I bring to life my finest work of art and watch with all anticipation your love erupt. © Tina Thompson
0
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Inspire Me
Prolog: Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind caressing private chambers with passion, over time words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity Love’s Play: Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace as moments become endless as vectors of subspace sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms while the players combine to mold a single plasm ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations too diverse to classify for logical deliberations yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached where there is no retreat and no return from its breach Epilog: Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds written in the historic words as the heavens foretold feelings ignite once again burning deeply within opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
Love’s Play
( Filipino orTagalog version) di sumasapit ang pagtulog sa isang kaluluwang sabik at di mapakali isang pusong ubod tiyaga ngayo'y balisang tumitibok sa kabila ng malumanay na pag patak ng ulan... sa kaunting salitang nagbibigay kasiyahan parang simoy ng hangin, may mga dalang palamuti mga matatamis na pangako ng maluwalhating bukas, lumutang sa kapaligiran at binago ang malamlam na lagay ng kalooban. ang mga darating na araw ay muling yayabong. isang kaluluwang hapong hapo di-inaasaha'y, napangiti sa unang pagkakataon mga matatamis na tunog ng mahihinang halakhak ay paulit-ulit na tumaginting sa kalaliman ng gabi. itong di maampat-ampat na pananabik aking panalangin ay tuluyan nang pumayapa dito sa dilim, ako'y nakahimlay habang  ang mga pangarap ng pag-asa ay alak na lumalasing sa aking pag-iisip. kasabay ng pagdatal ng madaling-araw, nabubuhay na lalo ang mga bagong isipin na lalong nagpapasigla sa aking utak... mulat na mulat ang aking mga mata di na sasapit pa ang antok di na sasapit pa ang pagtulog... :::::::::: (ENGLISH VERSION) SLEEP DOESN'T COME... Sleep doesn’t come To an eager, restless soul. A heart so patient now beats anxiously, Even with the gentle rhythm Of raindrops tapping. With just a few satisfying words Sprinkled with whiffs of hope, So magical, A promise of a glorious tomorrow Floated in the air And altered the somber mood. The coming days are to flourish Once more. Unexpectedly, A soul gone weary Smiled for the first time. The sweet sound of soft laughter Unheard in the still of the night. This insatiable needing I pray, to be quelled soon.. Here in the dark, I lay awake, As visions of hope inebriate my mind. With dawn comes new ideas, Stimulating my brain even more.. .......my eyes are wide open........ .......sleep wouldn’t come at all……        Sally             Copyright 2014        Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
Sleep Doesn't Come...
( Filipino orTagalog version) di sumasapit ang pagtulog sa isang kaluluwang sabik at di mapakali isang pusong ubod tiyaga ngayo'y balisang tumitibok sa kabila ng malumanay na pag patak ng ulan... sa kaunting salitang nagbibigay kasiyahan parang simoy ng hangin, may mga dalang palamuti mga matatamis na pangako ng maluwalhating bukas, lumutang sa kapaligiran at binago ang malamlam na lagay ng kalooban. ang mga darating na araw ay muling yayabong. isang kaluluwang hapong hapo di-inaasaha'y, napangiti sa unang pagkakataon mga matatamis na tunog ng mahihinang halakhak ay paulit-ulit na tumaginting sa kalaliman ng gabi. itong di maampat-ampat na pananabik aking panalangin ay tuluyan nang pumayapa dito sa dilim, ako'y nakahimlay habang  ang mga pangarap ng pag-asa ay alak na lumalasing sa aking pag-iisip. kasabay ng pagdatal ng madaling-araw, nabubuhay na lalo ang mga bagong isipin na lalong nagpapasigla sa aking utak... mulat na mulat ang aking mga mata di na sasapit pa ang antok di na sasapit pa ang pagtulog... :::::::::: (ENGLISH VERSION) SLEEP DOESN'T COME... Sleep doesn’t come To an eager, restless soul. A heart so patient now beats anxiously, Even with the gentle rhythm Of raindrops tapping. With just a few satisfying words Sprinkled with whiffs of hope, So magical, A promise of a glorious tomorrow Floated in the air And altered the somber mood. The coming days are to flourish Once more. Unexpectedly, A soul gone weary Smiled for the first time. The sweet sound of soft laughter Unheard in the still of the night. This insatiable needing I pray, to be quelled soon.. Here in the dark, I lay awake, As visions of hope inebriate my mind. With dawn comes new ideas, Stimulating my brain even more.. .......my eyes are wide open........ .......sleep wouldn’t come at all……        Sally             Copyright 2014        Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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68
The ghost of you lingers on my mind The echo of your words tangos across my heart The feeling of excitement of falling in love in cyberspace Sexting without remorse or grace A friendship that hits below the waist Intelligent conversations that strokes your passion and ignites your fire I wonder if I'll have anything left to offer Or would the sight of you take me higher up the ladder of my sinful desire Your words drive my imagination wild The touch on my skin, your fingers, lightly caressing my spine This image in my head is so divine Seriously hoping that one day, this feeling will be mine. Pictures and thoughts exchanged on a whim Something strange grows from within Intellectually stimulating every part of me Zeros and ones creates a digital reality Here I am, imagining being in your arms The sweetest words you whisper in my ear My soul yarns for you to be here Feelings your warm body against mines under the cover I long for you, my WhatsApp lover                          ©La Vida Love
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
Whatsapp lover
A Red Ruby, if placed upon the chest, can melt through your rib cage and engulf your entire body with flames. It's delicate appearance of a heart was purposely constructed that way, in order to desire with a fierce blaze. Red Rubies were made to crystallize your eyes and make every single sensual thought behind them harden until they crack and find its way into your blood stream and into your love making. Red Rubies are a euphoric gemstone stimulating your need to love and give into the desirable.
0
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
Red Rubies
Her body’s indications are indicating what she's anticipating. Something exhilarating and stimulating \ventilating.
0
Nov 11, 2023
Nov 11, 2023 at 10:43 PM UTC
Ventilating
The thin cardboard veneer is tantalizing I reach for you with nimble, delighted fingers And undress you There you are my sweetheart I pinch your firm tan **** and place you between my lips The spark ignites and suddenly I can taste you in my mouth Warm, dark, mysterious you are all these things But above all I feel you stimulating me Every nerve in my body tingling I’m short of breath at last I exhale deeply And with a sigh of pleasure and regret I set you down in the ashtray
0
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 11:21 PM UTC
A 5 minute affair
My dearest love, If I were to explain the music in my ears, It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor, Fervent beats and emotional rhythms, Pursue a possibly tangible idea, Shining lights and keyboards, Coffee colored electric energy, Pulsing in amber jelly motion, A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus, Stimulating the tear sacs, Which then open and shed a bassline, Which repeats in nonexistent space, Maybe… Just maybe… It stretches into eternity.
0
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Isaac
Mind is a super computer they say. It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day. From the bombings in Iraq, to the hurt in my best friends heart. From the moment its up, It never stops, To stop. Blink or breathe. It keeps running at night. The subconscious consumes power. Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn. When it meets people, it reads the signs at many levels. Subject of talk, Body language. Positivity of the vibes, The way the person jives. A handshake. A wink. A hug. A swiftly made jug* It notices everything. In all this processing. It accumulates a lot of clutter! And the mind with all the confusing thoughts, becomes like hot butter! Sparks fly like an electronic of fire! And it needs something to distract it. What works best is a bit of exercise. A bit of chattering, Or writing it all out. Some find solace in Games or Movies. Why do they work? Because they engage all senses, And make the mind groovy. Smoking and doping do great too. But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two! Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it. The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it. But illusions destroy us further. Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder. Wonder though it is. Using only 10% of it we create, Science, History, Mystery, But this wonder has a lot on bate. If it goes in the wrong direction. Even thinking too much is an addiction! Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind. Making it jump and do cartwheels inside. Stimulating discussions are named that way, Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day. It satisfies the mind that, I have done something constrictive besides, Whiling my days in sorrow, and waiting for the morrow. Mind is like a baby that need attention, if not given that it runs in all directions. Mind is a super computer that needs, the dedication of a programmer. Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers, And see it become the eighth wonder! *Jug- short for juggle.
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Ode to the Human Mind
Mind is a super computer they say. It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day. From the bombings in Iraq, to the hurt in my best friends heart. From the moment its up, It never stops, To stop. Blink or breathe. It keeps running at night. The subconscious consumes power. Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn. When it meets people, it reads the signs at many levels. Subject of talk, Body language. Positivity of the vibes, The way the person jives. A handshake. A wink. A hug. A swiftly made jug* It notices everything. In all this processing. It accumulates a lot of clutter! And the mind with all the confusing thoughts, becomes like hot butter! Sparks fly like an electronic of fire! And it needs something to distract it. What works best is a bit of exercise. A bit of chattering, Or writing it all out. Some find solace in Games or Movies. Why do they work? Because they engage all senses, And make the mind groovy. Smoking and doping do great too. But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two! Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it. The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it. But illusions destroy us further. Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder. Wonder though it is. Using only 10% of it we create, Science, History, Mystery, But this wonder has a lot on bate. If it goes in the wrong direction. Even thinking too much is an addiction! Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind. Making it jump and do cartwheels inside. Stimulating discussions are named that way, Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day. It satisfies the mind that, I have done something constrictive besides, Whiling my days in sorrow, and waiting for the morrow. Mind is like a baby that need attention, if not given that it runs in all directions. Mind is a super computer that needs, the dedication of a programmer. Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers, And see it become the eighth wonder! *Jug- short for juggle.
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61
it comes and goes they say. Bringing life to awkard ways. Stimulating awkard minds on lonely days. wastes away in intrinsic minds,repressed. hapless beautiful thoughts used as insipid grumblings in a harvest without seed. It is a must.a need.a gift times' vacation, times' digress.
0
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
With/Out It
Every single one of us has our own perception and definition of perfection and beauty. My definition of perfection and beauty is simplistic, but at the same time is insanely intricate and alluring. My definition of perfection and beauty is her: her riveting smile, her luscious brown hair, the glint of her admirable brown eyes, so perplexing and captivating. She is different, not quite like all the other girls. Something about her makes her stand out. Could it be her inspiring and enchanting positive attitude? Or could it be her constant yet elegant and exceptional charismatic display of intellect and wisdom? Whatever it is, it’s entrancing and spectacular, constantly forcing me to crack a genuine and stimulating smile, even when I may not be feeling the greatest. The feeling she makes me feel when she’s present is indescribable through words; it’s a feeling that can only be truly understood through enduring it. There is only one word to truly describe how I feel whenever I talk to her, and that is bliss. I may be naïve to believe that I am deeply in love with her, but that intense smile and sense of self-worth I feel when I talk to her tells me otherwise. She gives off similar vibes, leading me to believe that she may feel the same way about me as I do her. When she displays affection towards me, my face turns slightly red and inevitably, I smile like an idiot. When I talk with her, everything feels at ease, and I don’t ever have a single worry on my mind. Every single one of us has our own description of perfection and beauty. My definition of perfection and beauty is her, and she’s the perfection and beauty that I need.
0
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
A Definition of Perfection and Beauty
Every single one of us has our own perception and definition of perfection and beauty. My definition of perfection and beauty is simplistic, but at the same time is insanely intricate and alluring. My definition of perfection and beauty is her: her riveting smile, her luscious brown hair, the glint of her admirable brown eyes, so perplexing and captivating. She is different, not quite like all the other girls. Something about her makes her stand out. Could it be her inspiring and enchanting positive attitude? Or could it be her constant yet elegant and exceptional charismatic display of intellect and wisdom? Whatever it is, it’s entrancing and spectacular, constantly forcing me to crack a genuine and stimulating smile, even when I may not be feeling the greatest. The feeling she makes me feel when she’s present is indescribable through words; it’s a feeling that can only be truly understood through enduring it. There is only one word to truly describe how I feel whenever I talk to her, and that is bliss. I may be naïve to believe that I am deeply in love with her, but that intense smile and sense of self-worth I feel when I talk to her tells me otherwise. She gives off similar vibes, leading me to believe that she may feel the same way about me as I do her. When she displays affection towards me, my face turns slightly red and inevitably, I smile like an idiot. When I talk with her, everything feels at ease, and I don’t ever have a single worry on my mind. Every single one of us has our own description of perfection and beauty. My definition of perfection and beauty is her, and she’s the perfection and beauty that I need.
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16
**Moving past the shuttered mind that shuns imagination I seek a stimulating thought a cause for exhultation. It hovers there like hummingbirds whose entry I deny. And yet I see the imagery and heave a heartfelt sigh. It teases me and mocks me as it dodges every grasp Laughing at my efforts to retrieve it with each clasp. Yet empty air is my reward. My snares are all in vain. I close my eyes and meditate for inspiration's gain. An empty net a vacant trap the target still eludes. Perhaps tomorrow try again away from darker moods.**
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Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
An Empty Net
Today, is an overcast, sky-filled grey, autumn day. Nevertheless, the colors are still holding out as the leaves are making their last hurrah in the parade of changing their look. Therefore, I was not bothered by the gloomy looking weather. And on my way to the health food store-- high up among the telephone poles--I spotted the sight of three parallel wires full of birds, perched side-by-side. as if connected. I am not sure what kind of birds they were, but they lined those wires, brown and thick, like ants on a sugar stick. And they must of huddled there for warmth and security, comrades of instinct and survival. Indeed, they surely seemed fine with their electric perches, with no intent on flying off, congregating contentedly. With too much human expansion, it seems, I surely do wonder and am at awe at the magnificence of nature, this being a small example. Birds, as fragile as they often look--they haven't a thick coat of fur to warm their feathery bodies--do not appear fit for the cold--not for a second. And many fly to the South for winter. But there they were--bird after bird after bird--just hanging out up there, as if their temporary hangout was wired and strung just for them. This surely is a common sight, and is not supposed to be a big deal , but I found it special enough to keep in mind, important enough to return home to later record in word.  It is akin to me witnessing geese flying in a V-shape pattern, or hearing the melodic calling of a bird to a potential mate, of viewing a mother bird feeding her young in the bird house that I have provided outside my door. Or it reminds me of last year, on a snowy night in the Christmas season. when I was amazed by the sound of birds outside of KFC--of a bunch of sparrows that were just chirping away, arranged in a tree like living Christmas ornaments.  I don't ever want to take this stuff for granted, for it becomes easy to do so in the maze of life we often have. With just this small example, today. I am reminded of how wonderful and majestic this earth truly is. Nature surely is a feast for the eyes, as well as for nourishment for the body. For me, it is medicine for the soul, sanity for the mind, music to the ears, as well as a stimulating journey in awe and beauty in the wildlife, grand landscapes, fragrant flowers and abundant plant life. Who can say otherwise?
0
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 5:16 PM UTC
Birds On A Telephone Wire
Today, is an overcast, sky-filled grey, autumn day. Nevertheless, the colors are still holding out as the leaves are making their last hurrah in the parade of changing their look. Therefore, I was not bothered by the gloomy looking weather. And on my way to the health food store-- high up among the telephone poles--I spotted the sight of three parallel wires full of birds, perched side-by-side. as if connected. I am not sure what kind of birds they were, but they lined those wires, brown and thick, like ants on a sugar stick. And they must of huddled there for warmth and security, comrades of instinct and survival. Indeed, they surely seemed fine with their electric perches, with no intent on flying off, congregating contentedly. With too much human expansion, it seems, I surely do wonder and am at awe at the magnificence of nature, this being a small example. Birds, as fragile as they often look--they haven't a thick coat of fur to warm their feathery bodies--do not appear fit for the cold--not for a second. And many fly to the South for winter. But there they were--bird after bird after bird--just hanging out up there, as if their temporary hangout was wired and strung just for them. This surely is a common sight, and is not supposed to be a big deal , but I found it special enough to keep in mind, important enough to return home to later record in word.  It is akin to me witnessing geese flying in a V-shape pattern, or hearing the melodic calling of a bird to a potential mate, of viewing a mother bird feeding her young in the bird house that I have provided outside my door. Or it reminds me of last year, on a snowy night in the Christmas season. when I was amazed by the sound of birds outside of KFC--of a bunch of sparrows that were just chirping away, arranged in a tree like living Christmas ornaments.  I don't ever want to take this stuff for granted, for it becomes easy to do so in the maze of life we often have. With just this small example, today. I am reminded of how wonderful and majestic this earth truly is. Nature surely is a feast for the eyes, as well as for nourishment for the body. For me, it is medicine for the soul, sanity for the mind, music to the ears, as well as a stimulating journey in awe and beauty in the wildlife, grand landscapes, fragrant flowers and abundant plant life. Who can say otherwise?
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4
365Nectar #60 Devour Me Fri. November 22, 2013 9:18 P.M. Devour me... A provocative passionate pouring of pillaging and plundering... A pleasing prowling of a piercing plunderer... A lovely, limp nymph laid upon a sizzling alter... Smoldering... Awakening all the senses a choking of lust unleashes exhilarating and envelops you... Effortlessly evoking ethereal... a sinister seduction seductively seduces and hungry hips breakdance with hysterical Stimulating a surreal surge of a sweet seeping... waiting... impatiently... For you to chisel an unimaginable devouring... S slow steady climb to the summit of the ultimate ****** Time- Time- Time... a tool to employ flamboyantly... immediately... eargerly... Expose my conquered heart that leaks of streams of cream of succulent sensation... Expose my tamed moistness that whispery whines as you build a legacy of torturous licking.... Seductively... Slithering in spicy spirals of stirring screams from stormy shivers of steamy anticipation of your redefining touch... Suddenly... drowning in the sticky sensation of all that is us... A tender luscious love liquefying flesh and penetrating souls... We blend in blazing bliss tapping taboo for titillating thrills you rock a rowdy ravishing inside me... I whisper wet whimpers and beg for bitten breast... Our wrestling hips hug, ***** and groan a hungry growling... Pounded into saturated submission I linger in lubricating dreams for you- to... devour me.
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Devour Me
High speed **** generation warped minds strong hands unreality stimulating, simulating digital lights flickering images of ******* endless variety of every kind on demand what has become of us what has become of touching, romance creepy accusations because genuine human interaction is going the way of the dodo, Oh, he didn't follow the smooth script, no chance man Maybe your testosterone was spent elsewhere and your vibes told the true true either way no *** for you the youth exploited and exploiting, insane cycles the itch, the tingle, the curiosity, the drive for more, dopamine release My generation had the first ******** access point and click no barriers can stop that drive, rooted in youthful pubescent longing we're sick on the digital drug Touch me instead bath me in your *** not this crude moving picture Let me drink you, taste your juice, feel you slide, touch the walls of your world, explode them, show the limitless illusion to boundaries, kink, ********** stop watching, live it chronic ************ robs us of the real intimacy, don't drain your desire for me with this crude digital ******* just because its there You can touch me, not your keyboard, not this plastic and metal I suppose you can touch yourself, but have the imagination to fantasize and then make it real share your life force with a human being, not some rag to be thrown away Rise to your lust, conquer the animal make its power serve make love, not digital mental war
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
Growing Up with High Speed ****
No water tastes sweeter than that sip in the desert No touch is finer than that hand on the shoulder when encased in loneliness. No paycheck more abundant than following employment deprivation. No buffet more filling than that first bite in hunger. No more wondrous serenity than when the pain finally goes away from your mouth your back your head your knees your gut your mind. No idea more stimulating to a mind so hungry than a poem which catches the moment so perfectly. No love more appreciated than when awash in self judgement No praise more received than when lost in condemnation. No warmth more soothing than when lost in the snow. No light so bright as that first sunlight when lost in the demons of one's night. No sensation so pure as an open heart after numbness descends Compassion in hatred A laugh when joyless. A lover's kiss after betrayal A loving look after the cold white wall A loving word after tense stone silence. No embrace more healing than when you come home to me. The receding waters after the tsunami The stillness after the earthquake. The peace after the warfare. The spring flowers after the winter The coolness of fall after the blistering summer's heat. The wood stove so warm when the house is so cold. No bed so content No home so sweet after being stuck out on the streets. Duality Reality Without our joys no sorrow Without our sorrows no joy.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Duality Reality
From wars erupting earths core, we've settled a score only for the heavens and hell to see. We smother the stench of temptations with potpourri, only to deceive others stimulating parts of a brain. Still pardon my slang Are we using something to rearrange a type of mental suicide arranged, in order to display portraits of lucid terror?, Throwing smoke bombs to keep a little order but even so that's just keeping us ***** for more slaughter. Like roaches and raid a single spray will cause fragment mutations a zombie faze shot with steroids and black plagues, just a graze to depict nations, human infested sanitation able to retaliate government abomination. A conversation my mind read by Pagans walking through hallways, a million rooms perfume and a two headed waitress, mind binding views, imitations, crosses, limitations, serpents, pulpits, fuels lit and shattered creations.
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
The Land After Time
You're like a coffee Uncertainty Sometimes sweet and bitter Taking me higher A strong scent That rest and resent Stimulating; Addicting In my head: clinging
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Jan 16, 2022
Jan 16, 2022 at 12:02 AM UTC
My Caffeine
She's daffodils and morphine, stimulating the heart to pulse precarious! She's the tender cannonade of lovesick ****** She's the trapeze wire in a thunderstorm! and by god the thermonuclear bomb of this generation! Darling liberty enkindle me cruelly.
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
Trapeze Wire in a Thunderstorm
Serendipitous Sirens ****** Seasick Sailors to Satiate Sickly Sensual Seconds Stalked full of Sexually Stimulating Sentences Second only to *** itself; Sad for Seasick Scurvy Sailors Syphilis will Soon Succeed Sanity.
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Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
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