"stunner" poems
It streams down eye to eye
from the unseen but the all seeing.
Far from the Mars far from the Neptune
skipping all the planets hanging in space
only on the cheek of earth, a drop of tear fell.
Every angel in the heavens' shore
has heard of this lore.
It’s timeless long mesmerising beautiful.
Far from the blue yonder sky
hunky dory is delighting to the eyes
the stunner is made to measure.
A tear in the corner of the eye
as if it's diagonally weighed down
with the 360-degree open looking sky.
As close as within a fingertip comes the Moon
still, a sea is ahead forever untouchable!
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
When the sun
is a sleeping beauty at night
shining on the Moon!
The night is wake
is a stunner far cuter.
It knows no cold foot
is on the move.
The full wax of the starry
sky keeps awake.
But none could chart a line
exposing a beautiful
night in the veil, no one
says a single word.
The first one perhaps that
dared to open the mouth
only to be speechless
to be lost for word!
Not a night or two ago but
since the dawning of the time!
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
I wanted to sneak into
a space down the star
I couldn’t sleep in a night
Huh I was yet to get an
answer to a quiz why!
Though I showed a mirror
The moon floats in the night
gently, the dark could
mingles into the light.
But one couldn’t relay
My sweetie toyed it away!
As if no matter what if one
wishes so is free to sway.
Huh my sweetie toyed it away!
Did the Moon score
tapping in on the starry
night’s blackboard,
how many *****
Who can tell, who can tell?
Though a cheering sun rises
In the end by the rose.
Myriads stars meltdown
in a stunner’s teardrop.
That stirs coming so close.
Yet is a dwarf over the ocean!
Touches the moon not
one that pulls the most.
The sea lives by the small earth
There is no law in love
My sweetie toyed it away!
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
you filter every pixel pore
you angle yourself thin
my darling, which
do you love more?
the girl on the screen
or the girl in your skin?
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
**We’re Gonna Need Some Sunglasses For This Mushroom Cloud
Gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
it’s 6AM I’m in LA it’s been a long night for sure,
just gotta get into that cafe get that cappuccino,
then get safely unnoticed and back to the idling car,
Jar,
of Flies,
sorry I’m not sorry,
that’s a bad reference to 1995,
bad because Jar of Flies was a different year,
different year different name,
’95 was self-titled,
‘Alice In Chains’,
remind me again,
what the heck we’re talking about,
this poem has no parameters,
it’s off course but still going along,
gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
like my glasses like I like my roast,
with my Valentino’s and dark cappuccino,
and you with your mimosa my dear Yoda let us toast,
“To the Next Episode!” let’s go,
No Dre though it’s more of a Good Day,
not to be rude to Ice Cube but I got ice cubes in my flute,
in perpetual motion from chronic transitions of change,
and when I say Change I’m not talking about Rock The Vote,
because we all see where voting got us,
now we got ‘ Donald Duck Mr. Talk A lot of Nonsense’,
we got that stone cold soviet ****** Kim Jong-un launching stunner missiles like Steve Austin,
dropping finishing moves ’Cold Stunning’ but instead of a drop kick he’s bomb launching,
we can’t even stop him as in Kim Jong-un with bad movies and meetings with Dennis Rodman,
Oh My God Son!
We’re really gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
have you ever seen the magnificence of an Atom Bomb,
a mushroom clouds of the most beautiful hues,
a moment of infinite Light just before the moment we’re all eternally gone…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆**
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
I am a man.
I am a man who does not love.
Who cannot love.
For, I am a man.
I am a man.
Hence, I am not allowed to love,
To show emotion,
To feel.
For then, I’d be a *****
I am a man.
I must be masculine.
I must be a stunner.
I must be callous.
For if not, I’d be a loser.
I am a man.
I cannot be skinny.
I cannot be fat.
I cannot care about my appearance, but I must look good.
For if not, I’d be a loner.
I am a man.
I cannot respect my wife.
For then I’d be under her thumb.
I am a man who cannot love another.
For then I’d be a criminal.
Is it that wrong
to simply love
without boundaries, without expectations?
Are we that heartless
that gender can force us to behave in a certain manner?
Are we that naive, that
we really believe phrases like
‘all men are heartless’ and
‘men are animals’?
No.
Sexism isn’t about women being oppressed by men.
Just like feminism isn’t about women being greater than men.
Discrimination, gender policing, societal pressure
are good for neither ***
But then why do we put up with it?
It’s time for a change.
Be that change.
Sincerely,
The man who dares to love.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
He was a good runner;
And one hell of a stunner;
Your stop-glass picture for a lightning vision;
And a start-pass winner, a stunting gold finisher;
A heart cold hunter, he was my knock-out hitter;
He was a K.O. Rider--
He was a collider: on one collect collision course;
Of course, the beginning was when it began:
Between the specific sheet of force
With a good measure...
Had me landing on all fours,
Reveling in it again;
To rev up was the plan.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
i honny be ten minniei pooron sumfing slinkydai had pulled a stunner...the waitress from the chinky whah yoo fancy big boy?half naked in her finerysexcitedly he mumbledi'd like a sixty ninery i no cook this time o nightit nearly half pass twoyoo chauvinistic bastardthen hit him with her shoe
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 28, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
I have a light under my concrete
For others
It is fatally luminous
So it must be contained
I relegate rays to the darkest depths
So no light may exit
But then you walked on my blacktop
And cracks started to form in my road
Light began to escape
You were fascinated
I was terrified
Because the more you traversed my pavement
The further my road split
Brilliant flashes with increasing frequency surfaced
Your curiosities were piqued
Mine were plagued
By what lies underneath
And when it would blind you
I tried to warn you from inside my cocoon
You said you'd purchase sunglasses
You never understood
This light
Shatters glass like Stone Cold Steve Austin
It's intensity is a stunner
It may be the Sun itself
But you insisted on continuing
To travel down this path
As models import wrinkles
Potholes become sinkholes
Fears were realized
Senses overwhelmed
Skin burned
Blackened
Into something unrecognizable
As all signs of life fade
I'm stranded on a crumbled road
With only sightless cadavers to lead me home
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
there's a funny twist to this tale,
with feminism tackling ***********
and *** without consent,
both noble feats to tackle...
the male version? becoming
impregnated without consent -
jeez that sounds weird -
well the £110 an hour prostitutes
say they check themselves for
sex-related diseases regularly:
and i believe them. they also require
you to wear a rubber second ********
but it's just odd that you can a man,
and have no say in the matter
of your ****** partner being impregnated,
given that your ******** is about
an inch long, and when pulled back
your ******* head turns purple
because of the constraints, so a ******
isn't really that much of a discomfort...
but still she insists... *** in me, *** in...
white lies and anti-contraceptive pills...
so how about strawberry...
i don't mind, my ***** gagging with the ********
pulled back, but hey, ******* with ********
is so much more pleasurable than without
it... i know, i have the capacity.
and indeed i do like Freud, his theory
of the compound Madonna-Whore "complex"
is true... question is, is it expressed by
a woman, or by man? i'm guessing a woman
since Freud covered men as Wilhelm Oedipus Rex...
and i went straight down the hyphenated middle...
Madonna O Madonna why are you
in need to talk about ***
and the ***** get's them every time,
no talk, i know why i paid for consent,
she knows i paid for consent, even if she's not
aroused she uses skin-cream to oil up
so penetrating her won't hurt... while i'm not
a universal stunner... but i still don't
understand why a girl would think there's
no opposite of **** / *** without consent...
i.e. forcing a fatherhood on you on the sly...
that's the opposite of **** she thinks you're
so perfect because she's in her teens and she just
experienced the diversity of the world
and boom, you're trustworthy about her promise
to be on anti-contraceptive pills (she isn't),
you can use a ****** because your ********
is too tight... and then you get a really bad Kafkaesque
theme for the rest of your life.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
you have more beauty in you
than any one woman in the world.
intimate moments lie
in the shape of your eyes.
champagne and roses
fill the air in wake
of your stride.
wonder meets perfection
in the fullness of your lips;
the cutest little nose
awaiting a lover’s gentle kiss.
bearer of heart
seemingly made of stone.
stunner of men
made of only flesh and bone.
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
Your sweet sugar bubbles
Boil rolling in the pan
Heavy bottomed, 3 quart stunner
With attitude for a handle
Luscious amber satin evolving into
Dark velvety ribbons
If allowed to cool
Heat from the stove opens pores
I'm gathering your heavenly scent
Into every inch of me
Salted caramel sauce is on the way
Covering special occasion cheesecake
You'll blow out your candles and make a wish
Mouth full of the love I cooked up for you
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
I'm looking for a runner
A top gun stunner
Someone who does not shove me behind
In battle
Instead prefers me side by side
A shield maiden in my own right
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
sweet, sweet boy
i've seen you a-sittin' there
waiting for that older girl
with those bright eyes
and kind smile.
now southern boy
dont you drop a penny
cause she's a rich girl with class
and yer not gettin' her chastity
and yer not takin' her money
cause yer a proud son of an ***
and broken boy
why you still not takin' no bandages?
cause yer stubbornness is breakin' er
when yer the one who's bleedin'
oh, i can see it all repeatin'
what you dont know is she loves you
and yer in love too
but all this time you been thinking its sympathy
got this idea that you mean nothing to nobody
boy it's hurtin' er
it's hurtin me
cause baby boy
i see you as my own
im a-thinkin' you need to take a stand
she might be a stunner
only one who don take you as a sinner
but youve been forgettin'
that though shes a fine woman
y'always been a real good man
angel boy
seen you cryin' tears
shes paradin' round
with a polished fella'
but why you aint been askin' her
"whens the weddin'"
when you think its comin'
honey, no girl in love
shows up at some lib'ary
when theres a man who orders sherry
im a-sure you feel
but you don see it
and sure as nothin' do you believe it
waitin', waitin' boy
how long you gon be sittin' there
that girl gave you time
but you didnt use it
and now im crying'
cause son
i can tell theres still love
but shes been taken
and now yer a drunk
lost, lost boy
im a-beggin' here
find trust
cause i know its not her fault
and she thinks it was
and now we both afraid
cause you not even tryin' a-hide it
but yer becomin' yer father
and he was filled with hate
hes a gone, gone boy
im a sinner with a prayer
that her husband dies
an he drops the liquor
and they both survive
but, hes an old, old man
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 11:07 PM UTC
circumstances changes the
man-you-al
neglects you,
negligence a criminal offense
against a young woman’s
every essenced senses,
neglect is regret coming
the unthinkable
that I guess is the
“not me joke”
neon sign
winking and buzzing
endless
by doctors orders(!):
stop being a macho idiot,
get thee to a
nail salon,
redo
updo
thyself
from toes
to fingertips
in a
remarkable stunner
of a
pink,
that says to
those glaring untruths
of unworthiness
I am beautiful
and
I
will be loved
if you only
think
pink
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 8:35 AM UTC
Wait for it wait for it wait for the noise, let it build up build up from the ground up, can't shut it up, you not loud enough, tough enough,
you can't fight it, bite it, no slight of hand to deny it, defy it.
Don't shy away, stand and stay, don't fear the fray, there's still time to pray that you won't become the prey.
There's no running for a runner, no gunning for a gunner, no stunning for a stunner.
Ride hard or ride high, die hard or just die. I lie but I'm no liar, **** but not a killer, steal but not a stealer.
I beguile for the thrill, **** with skill, and steal with ease. Life's no joke but death is a breeze,
live ****** and get sleazed, die grimy get clean. This is no scan no scheme, up my sleeves nothing is seen.
No tricks for sick kicks, relax. stress is taxing take a deep breath and step back. Okay I've lost track.
Of the bars and the cars, the stars, and Mars. My thoughts are now in a different language, ego speaking spanish, Jorge can it.
**** it now its in Italian , I may be a horse but I'm no stallion. Shake my head, I'm going to bed,
let these words die, bury them dead, but make it shallow, just in case my thoughts aren't fed.
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 10:12 PM UTC
Moon-lit night
The day is gone, the moon shines bright,
Raining down upon this moon-lit night,
Though the future dawns a present fright,
A mutual calm, a merciful fight.
Not feeling right, mentally ill,
Take another pill, I know you will,
To feed your spite, to fuel the thrill,
To reach the height, to hone the skill.
Hard standing still, Im not the same,
The strength of will, but who's to blame,
There's time to **** I feel insane,
I feel a chill, Im in pain.
A summer rain, a lonesome place,
A stunner gain, a wholesome space,
A youth profane, to see your face,
Out my window pane, I get a taste.
Such a waste is this moon lit night,
Lost in space, lost tonight
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
The telephone has not been kind of late
It’s not from new found fans
Who have suddenly started praying for me,
Or from publishers
Wondering when my next book is going
To be finished
No –
It’s much closer to home,
Friends of mine crying their eyes out
Because some long-legged stunner has left them
“Dan, I don’t know what to do, she
Was a little girl from Sweden,
A real supermodel,
I bought her a diamond ring
And now she’s gone!”
A crackle down the end of the phone
“Come on mate, pull yourself together,
Why did you buy her a diamond ring?”
“Because I thought she loved me!”
“How much was it?”
“£5,000...”
“And how long have you known her?”
“3 weeks... I thought she was the one.”
I hang up after my apologies and realise I can do no more
I’m no snob, I try and assuage their grief but what can I do?
I can only talk to them, and the girls –
They must figure the rest out.
I decide to go and talk to one of my best and longest friends
She is one of those ladies I have always felt my friend
And a good one, but nothing more.
I talk to this elite selection of women, because
They surely must know what it takes to get women.
I turn up on the farm, she smiles, just finished butchering a pig.
“More fool him is all I can say. Tell me the only way
He knows whether a girl will play him honest, is if
He looks beyond the beauty and is she there
When he needs her the most, through thick and thin –
That’s the testament of a women worth having.”
God bless, Hannah – she had a way of putting it so eloquently
And I don’t believe I could do the speech justice.
That night I ring him up
“What did your friend say?”
“Nothing man, just leave it.”
“What?”
“That’s how you learn: the girls that are good
For you are there all the time. Whatever happens –
Soon as you mention money or start throwing money
At the long legged, the ***** the blonde. You’re dead
In the water. They know they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks mate, you’re a pal.”
I hang up and the phone ring again. It’s Hannah.
“So what did you tell him?”
“Just what you told me, but in language he gets. Man speak.”
“You’re one in a million. You know that? I love you.”
I hang up the phone and smile to myself:
Everyone’s gone away contented.
I’m rather pleased with myself,
They both got to hear what they wanted to hear
With the minimal amount of damage.
It’s a hard act to balance
It’s a hard lead to follow
But I’m mastering it.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:02 PM UTC
I sit on my own in a restaurant
And at the table next to me
A guy’s grabbing a hunny’s ****
And giving it all the googly eyes;
He smiles.
It’s a first date.
He’s done her already
And she is a stunner
Eastern European
A body built like an athlete
A body you’d **** yourself for
Just for a sip of that amber nectar
The body of a woman that puts fire in the *****
And gives way to sleepless nights.
He was grinning
And I was lost in my Vichyssoise
But as the evening wears on
The passion disintegrates
Into mindless rote
They were onto eating sandwiches
And I was onto the lobster
I know that you shouldn’t bring a sandwich
To a buffet.
The guy with the Bulgarian hunny learnt that too:
As soon as the guy looks up and begins to give his order to the waitress
The Bulgarian hunny interrupts him
“I would to order...”
“Bradley, don’t you look at another woman –
He’ll be having the salad and the tuna steak.
You know you’re not having a **** steak
I don’t want you dying of a heart attack before you’re forty.
And I’m certainly not going to be left to feed 6 kids!”
There was an awkward silence
Every time Bradley tried to get a word in the
Hot Bulgarian fluttered her big brown eyes
And shrugged her shoulder.
“Boy, save the charm for the girl on your arm.”
God, if I were him
I would sleep with one eye open.
And I know if they had a bunny
It would be on the stove by now.
The conversation gently continued,
Poor Bradley couldn’t look at another woman
Throughout the evening
It was decided:
3 boys and 3 girls
And not one would be thought to be called
Bradley Jr.
They had to graduate
They had to work five years
And have full dental plans
All this was going on before
The salads.
I have to laugh
Hahahahahaha
When one is faced with a beauty like that
That’s a maniac
I have to think:
You can’t taste the milk
And then not put a down payment on the cow.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 10:09 PM UTC
The seeker the loner the lover the keeper
The thrower the catcher the leaper
The believer the stoner the beater
The busser the cleaner the waiter
The water the sinker the caster the bleeder
The runner the stunner the teacher the preacher
The heater the steeper the meeker the feature the
Sliding the slipping and sloshing and
Crawling and creeping and cutting and kissing
Dishing and wining and dining and hissing
Looking and seeing believing and breeding
Heaving mashing heaping seeding
Feeding flooding fretting keeping
Shining a lining flowing and flipping
Tripping sipping showing shipping
Beating the beat of the poem of the people
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
I sit on my own in a restaurant
And at the table next to me
A guy’s grabbing a hunny’s ****
And giving it all the googly eyes;
He smiles.
It’s a first date.
He’s done her already
And she is a stunner
Eastern European
A body built like an athlete
A body you’d **** yourself for
Just for a sip of that amber nectar
The body of a woman that puts fire in the *****
And gives way to sleepless nights.
He was grinning
And I was lost in my Vichyssoise
But as the evening wears on
The passion disintegrates
Into mindless rote
They were onto eating sandwiches
And I was onto the lobster
I know that you shouldn’t bring a sandwich
To a buffet.
The guy with the Bulgarian hunny learnt that too:
As soon as the guy looks up and begins to give his order to the waitress
The Bulgarian hunny interrupts him
“I would to order...”
“Bradley, don’t you look at another woman –
He’ll be having the salad and the tuna steak.
You know you’re not having a **** steak
I don’t want you dying of a heart attack before you’re forty.
And I’m certainly not going to be left to feed 6 kids!”
There was an awkward silence
Every time Bradley tried to get a word in the
Hot Bulgarian fluttered her big brown eyes
And shrugged her shoulder.
“Boy, save the charm for the girl on your arm.”
God, if I were him
I would sleep with one eye open.
And I know if they had a bunny
It would be on the stove by now.
The conversation gently continued,
Poor Bradley couldn’t look at another woman
Throughout the evening
It was decided:
3 boys and 3 girls
And not one would be thought to be called
Bradley Jr.
They had to graduate
They had to work five years
And have full dental plans
All this was going on before
The salads.
I have to laugh
Hahahahahaha
When one is faced with a beauty like that
That’s a maniac
I have to think:
You can’t taste the milk
And then not put a down payment on the cow.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 3:50 PM UTC
Give those minis a twirl
Lashes a curl,
Tambourine girl
In the back
Shimmer curtain, spotlight slack
All eyes are on you
One of the cities better views,
They say
What are you drowning?
You sat up silent
So he stood up and went
Quicksand with a layer of gold on top
Like the cymbals you clap
Against your hip, hop
He will be your drummer
Belle stunner
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Everybody get your *** up on the dance floor.
Tonight we gotta show out for Bay Shore.
You got stress? Go ahead and check it at the door.
Let the bass move somethin’, hit you at your core.
Let’s get disconnected,
No phones.
Let these strangers be your friend,
You not alone.
It’s hard to dust it off, trust me I understand.
But it’s hard to be depressed, we partying on sand.
Ain’t none of this was planned, love is in high demand.
We got you covered so why you still acting like you worried?
We gotta capture this for the IG stories.
And you holding back, but it’s alright.
Go and let it loose, cuz it’s alright.
This is our night.
The music’s live and the music’s bumpin’.
Feel the rhythm, feel the rhyme? Cool Runnings.
I’m not tryna get in your pants,
That’s a no no.
I’m tryna show my Charm City dance,
How I go go.
Babylon at noon, Gilgo soon.
Fire pit on Fire Island under the moon.
Move the party to the boat, set sail for the cruise.
Sit back, have a drink, enjoy the views.
I don’t wanna wife you up,
Not this evening.
I only wanna life you up,
I’m just teasing.
I see you working now, come out of that shell.
Don’t you leave here without a story to tell.
Put your hands up, this a celebration.
Give yourself a standing ovation.
Live in the moment, and it’s alright.
Let’s just own this, cuz it’s alright.
This is our night.
A Bay Shore night.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:05 PM UTC
It is Sunday, 7:45am.
The oldest child is scuttling around the kitchen,
I can hear toaster-pastry wrappers
being torn asunder.
Staring at the ceiling fan, with its dusty blades,
my arm extends above my face, my hand separates the pages
of the very first Longmire mystery.
No words have been read for several minutes.
Putting the insurance agent’s business card between the leaves,
the book finds the nightstand.
I roll to face my wife.
Propped on an elbow, I look, rewind a handful of memories and know
I’m in the right bed, in the right place, and am grateful for that knowledge.
That isn’t to say that I’ve never pondered other beds, other ceiling fans;
androcentric honesty with myself proves otherwise, of course.
The adorable high school chubster, crystallized into the stately blonde;
what would it be like, staring at her ceiling fan, lying stickily next to her, trying
to drum up conversation?
I cannot imagine.
Or, the raven haired stunner, with her perfect imperfections;
she steals my breath with every glance, at every venue, every time,
yet, despite the ease with which I can imagine her polished toenails
stabbing the air beside my ears, I cannot imagine her ceiling fan,
nor can I imagine the effort needed to assist her to an aura of comfort
inside her own skin.
So, here, in my home, in my bed, with my wife;
propped on my elbow,
I look at her
and I am glad when she adjusts her position,
her snoring intensifies momentarily
and she chuffs some morning breath into my face.
Dismissing the smell, I am mesmerized by her
fairy saddle of freckles. (I count them. Eighty five.)
I am enthralled with her unruly strawberry-blonde haystack,
the paleness of her skin, the fullness of her lips, and the fullness
of my heart for her.
A minute passes and I have replayed some of our most memorable
moments under this bedroom’s ceiling fan.
Sure, they’ve been sweaty, sticky, and such;
but they’ve given way to some of the best, most honest,
and most vulnerable conversations of my life
and they’ve given me the best people I’ve ever met,
or played a part in making.
Like the blades of a ceiling fan
my thoughts can turn,
my eyes might wander,
but my heart will always
come home.
***
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
Carol of the bells shes the lady
in her arm chair twinkles
Any state jeweled fair
Prayers of garland birds
Zip it Zircon pardon me
December remember the stone
Triumph tanzanite He's
"Superman Crimsonite"
Debutante Peacock turquoise
Applause noise and noise
"Princess Owl State Fair"
Violin ballantine clock
Her heart key silent night lock
The artist ceilng sings
"Cheeks divine she blushes
Silk fine print brushes"
Pointsetta ruby wings
"Thomas Kincade" walls
Light the promenade
Princess gown wanderlust
Power pride sleigh ride
Eyes of the owl lady stunner
Plays royalty no brainer
"Princess Owl" tree topper
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 7:59 AM UTC