"subduing" poems
The release; so powerful; sometimes to feel alive: all you need is a reminder:
His guiding hand:supplying the demands to the upper-hand, across her belly button, to forbidden; lands. Parted lips, her pink folds;dragging his hands down. Working each other: we ain’t fooling around; our bodies, over time. Dripping wet with desire.
Her reaching back; she leaned back. Over the edge; of the bed. standing ***** Picture perfect; she’s holding her breath, as he’s kissing on her neck, her breast, focused on her ****** the left. Right in my mouth. Long ponytail, pulled to the left. She is wet, under there, her underwear - pulled to the side, exposing her underhair; shaved bare, under there.
Fingers wrapped around him. Looking hard, she found it; tugging on it. Him pushing his luck got her pressing her lips against him. Pulling his belt out of way; biting his lips, he’s tensing. She, kiss as she play. looking a certaining way; tempting how she tempts him. She’s over the top, and its so overwhelming.
She’s all touched, from touching it; so fortunate, her ******* soaking wet, juices flowing. Wet spots, he’s all over it. Exposing her **** to his fingertips: with his index; middle finger next. Started working her slow, building up to raw *** Pressure building, rising her chest. She’s worked up; trying to get off. Giving it our best. Her waistline, being pumped from behind, so smooth; the finest wine. Unsatisfiable rhythm, keeping them inline. Holding onto her waist, he’s so online; bending backwards, pleasuring each other, every time. Some may come and go, but they come together every single time.
He’s feeling it: the way its feeling, feels so good - a burning sensation: her tenderness subduing his manhood; all is well, so it must good. Movement, with quickness, once his hips shifts, its motion sickness. Stroking his egos, increasing his stiffness, filling her deep. She’s clenching him, tighten, tighter. The feeling of him growing, she’s feeling him insider. Their wet bodies, skins glistening in the their fire.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
They say that the human being is a primal creature
That deep down likes to bite, to scratch, to hunt
Mark their own territory
And like so many other primal animals, feels this intrinsic pleasure in subduing others
People say many things
But in my world, pleasure and pain mix together
Primal creatures show their claws
For others willing to be subjected
I once heard that *** becomes human from the moment it becomes ******
For me however, eroticism doesn't depend on ***
And the primal is the most human and the most civilized of them all
Just like the ones that look at me right now
They see my movement and judge me feline
Sharp claws, curious look, precise movements
And I don't even need to show my fangs into a smile
For them to understand who the predator is
After all, as I already mentioned
Pleasure and pain mix
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
*I wish I could be enough for you,
I wish I could be your other half
I wish I could please you beyond
the measure of just friends
I wish I could be on your mind
like my sad image in your eye
and the succulent apple of your eye
I wish I could be close to
your soul as I'm usually close to you
I wish I could touch your heart
like I touch your hand
I wish you could also tremble
in my unnoticed presence
I wish the thought of me
could make you sick in my absence
I wish I was as handsome
as he is, with the cash he has
I wish I could also show up
driving myself in the posh cars
I wish I wasn't a tattered
fabric with patches of scars
I wish I amazed you like a
clear night sky filled with stars
I really wish so much,
I wish you could read my mind
and see the million words left
buried, the emotions left behind
I wish I could be the first and last
thought as you sleep and wake
I wish the little I have to give was
the much you crave to take
I wish you could believe when
I say these feelings started at hello
that I die subduing my passion
threatening to overflow
as soon as I set eyes on your
beautiful breathtaking face
you would laugh at how
nervous my heart loses pace
I wish I had the qualities
you are looking out for
a height, light skinned, courageous,
and quite physically fit
but I lack such a physic, those
qualities are embedded
within the core of my invisible
self, a person you can't see
I wish you knew that your presence
throws me in an ecstasy
I wish you knew that I have
burning flames of desire
fueled by my highly flammable
affection which you inspire
I wish you could consider someone
like me,maybe I would reveal
but even if I do you can never
give me an opportunity
I'd make a double loss, swallowing
my pride, that bitter pill
you can't bear someone like me...
you never will
yet I still find myself wishing
you could for real
albeit I too would never
waste your valuable time
dragging you through this
hell of my boring life
I wish I was something more
than a lover of rhyme
maybe then I'd stand a chance
of calling you "Wife"
I wish things were different,
I wish you could know
how much I wish I could be
someone deserving of you
I do, I wish I could be more*
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
The honey in the lion sounds like a delicious thing––
a gentle balm capable of subduing
the cruellest of monsters.
According to the stars and tattooed,
you fancied yourself king of the jungle––
lazy in hot African afternoons.
Golden and tawn with sleepy sun-gold eyes,
shaggy mane, muzzle red with
the blood of a gazelle.
Did you think me such easy prey?
Or was I so much fermented honey,
only a sweet intoxicant.
Sun warmth seeps from jungles of cold concrete.
I mistook your gargoyle wings
for those of a guardian angel’s.
I overlooked your rough skin, your
crooked hawk nose and your skinny ribs,
and assigned fine things in you that didn’t exist.
So duped, I acquiesced to your slimy kiss.
Your mouth a neglected cemetery,
teeth a row of mossy tombstones.
Vampire. Incubus. Your seduction like grotesque death.
You named me tempest in a teacup,
but I was the eye of the storm.
Until the night the eye was eradicated,
and the storm blew in,
striking me dumb with your sound and fury.
But no spattered blood and no spreading bruise
to be found in the pattern of the kaleidoscope.
No cause for alarm.
Today I am lost in a picture show,
a beautiful world coloured by nostalgic past.
Women’s lips the vivid red print of a velvet valentine.
Head in the Clouds, I fantasize about a certain scene.
Because you think violence is ****
retaliation – ********** in my dream.
Give me an eye for my eye,
for all the eyes you plucked, from women and breadwinners.
Give me blood running down your back, sweet as honey.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
I.
I would not if I could undo my past,
Tho' for its sake my future is a blank;
My past for which I have myself to thank,
For all its faults and follies first and last.
I would not cast anew the lot once cast,
Or launch a second ship for one that sank,
Or drug with sweets the bitterness I drank,
Or break by feasting my perpetual fast.
I would not if I could: for much more dear
Is one remembrance than a hundred joys,
More than a thousand hopes in jubilee;
Dearer the music of one tearful voice
That unforgotten calls and calls to me,
"Follow me here, rise up, and follow here."
II.
What seekest thou, far in the unknown land?
In hope I follow joy gone on before;
In hope and fear persistent more and more,
As the dry desert lengthens out its sand.
Whilst day and night I carry in my hand
The golden key to ope the golden door
Of golden home; yet mine eye weepeth sore,
For long the journey is that makes no stand.
And who is this that veiled doth walk with thee?
Lo, this is Love that walketh at my right;
One exile holds us both, and we are bound
To selfsame home-joys in the land of light.
Weeping thou walkest with him; weepeth he?--
Some sobbing weep, some weep and make no sound.
III.
A dimness of a glory glimmers here
Thro' veils and distance from the space remote,
A faintest far vibration of a note
Reaches to us and seems to bring us near;
Causing our face to glow with braver cheer,
Making the serried mist to stand afloat,
Subduing languor with an antidote,
And strengthening love almost to cast out fear:
Till for one moment golden city walls
Rise looming on us, golden walls of home,
Light of our eyes until the darkness falls;
Then thro' the outer darkness burdensome
I hear again the tender voice that calls,
"Follow me hither, follow, rise, and come."
3.6k
I can't
Seem to
Take
My eyes
Off
Your Lips.
When you
Smile
My
Inhibitions
Take a
Dip.
Nose diving
Me
Right down
Into
Your
Arms.
Subduing
My body
And mind
With
Your
Charms.
© Tina Thompson
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Winters nascent white falls
on the boughs of orchard branches
and carpets the earth outside my window;
The coating has a strength in it's gentle glow
softening and subduing the landscape
in a pale light, diffused by cloud,
Lifting with the purity of a doves wings
And drifting with a melancholy like ashes,
Settling, like the baseness of bones,
Something bare and beautiful
is reflected outside
in the raw winds of transition,
Out of the dark belly of solstice,
In all the suddenness and subtlety of being
snow flakes are inchoate and bristling.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
Near the Houston hotel sitting on the bench,
looking at the warring sun,
I see it's thoughts
fill the amber sky.
I feel. The heat -
Pouring on the the pillars of the blue and purple shoreline.
Her.
As the sunset runs in
The stars twinkle like a dying headlight, a
deer passes by the ocean. And immediately
the rain falls, my blue jeans are soaked, and the
crash of clouds and thunder with enormous rain fill the night air.
I race and reach for the memories.
Running through the ocean blue,
Searching for her silver eyes,
The sky stands black along the naked coastline.
Still running, crushing, subduing
the ***** lobsters, and rocks underneath
the open earth.
I'm running to find her eyes again.
Where home felt so new, against her wit and lovely sarcasm,
and her untimely ways, my life never felt so real,
I stand on mountains looking for a place to kneel
before her silver eyes.
In the distance, I hold the warmth of her hands,
For in the secrets of her dress, her name reverberates
like blue Texan rivers.
Her smile hangs like the moon over water,
and I breathe my dreams out for her, my sweet surrender.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
You clipped my wings
For years.
Subduing me through medications
That now I take to help me.
You clipped my wings,
And for what?
To watch a downward spiral
Of regret and turmoil,
And you'll never be proud of me
Unless I turn out just like you.
You clipped my wings,
But I've grown brand new feathers:
I'm flying and I'm soaring.
This life I have just proves
That your judgment and scorn is boring.
You used to clip my wings,
But you don't have a hold on me anymore,
And I know it's driving you absolutely mad
Watching me soar.
You used to clip my wings,
And I'm so glad that you're not in charge,
Because this is my life,
And I know that drives you crazy.
You used to
And still are trying to
Clip my wings.
But you can't,
I won't let you.
I'm just who I have to be.
You can't clip my wings anymore.
It's time to let birds of a feather
Flock together.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
the red light of sin illuminated her ankles
she, a thousand frisky demons
comfort me
as i yield blood eyes
for switch blade kisses
that push through retinas glass aperture
dark girl with a penchant for hideous pleasures
*** crimes like blatting pistons
her mothers womb twisted with regret
as i live in her hell ****** stare
********* talons that pierce ******
like diaphanous ribbons
her **** floating angels
and feet sweeten my face
in subduing rituals
of hard knocks
getting her mood up
for blowing **** loops
my nose; her **** soaked door ****
her ****** a squeeze hustle
innocent fig strained
mix meistering patterns
of extruded clay;
a pomade of raised bumpy torpedo's
fingers to *****
***** to fingers
i run to her
like bones of air
and she teaches me
in the blood of pandemonium
to make ice in hell
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
Undisguised not camouflaged
Standing out, A bright sun
in the blue sky stars hidden
within go unnoticed by the
Indifferent world Trapped
in their own cocoon of delusions
Unable Unwilling to metamorphose
to the beauty of kindred nature
into a free fall spiraling down
into the mundane
Illusion of Solid crust
beneath which the turbulent
molten lava flows
sometimes bursting out
yet another times causing
Tsunami and tremor
And yet the indifferent world
lays blinded by floodlights of duty
warming blanket of empathy
shredded by scissors of hate
buried within the grave yard
under the tombstone of misery
The different who rise up
from time to time are consumed
by the indifferent
like a flash of lighting absorbed
by the indifferent earth as storms
of war thunder around in dusky
skies and innocent plants take refuge
in purging rains only to be flooded
out into the indifferent sea of documentaries
only to make a trickle of frozen blood flow through
the chambers of tranquil heart
and indifferent yet try to contribute
subduing the thorny vines of growing guilt
by a click of like or share or Tweet
Sometimes the silent song
is heard through the sonorous
souls within mind and winds
of change blow nucleating through
an idea propagating through words
symbols of art hitting the conscience
and arise the single conscious crowd
not the raging temporary mob
new sprouts of generation rise up
through the barren land
and art forms inherently provide
what people need dragging from
the oblivion of what people want?
as bright illusion of illumination
is smoldered through enlightening
darkness as indifference transforms
into glowing luminous flowers of empathy
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
A blank empty canvas
Pure as the winter's snow
Open as but a vast window
Seeing deep into it's soul.
The mind ticks in emotional frustration
Relics of imagination fly and form
Particles of atomic consciousness
Gathers and flows like an Astro storm.
White wash covers the surface
The first invocation soothing and mild
Then images gather before the eyes
Like a raging storm, fierce and wild.
The pallet is filled with rainbow mixtures
Here one joins to the alchemist's dream
Establishing upon board, paper or canvas
The unfoldment of the creative stream.
Brush in hand, Like an ancient wand
One casts the horizon like a spell
Summoning, coaxing, those tides within
Where the possession conquered, flowed and fell.
Dashes here, strokes there
Balancing the tones within each hew,
The thoughts so fast, mind captured
Projections all of that inner you.
Murky and shapeless at the start
But shadows enhance, inward glance
Light engulfs and shines but through
The eyes captured to the romance.
The artist gallant before his glory
Yet! Never fulfilled by its view
Playing upon its essence and structure
He draws upon images new.
One here becomes the timeless Shaman
Working the magic of natures way
Gathering the similarities and imbuing with fire
Elevating ever the thought to the creative day.
Or like a modern mystic
Grasped tight in spiritual bliss
subduing into but representations
The reflections of the heaven's kiss.
But all in all the artist is
whether by paint, sculpture, acrylic or oil
A voyager of the main stream existence
His vision of his own scared soil.
The goal is not unlike any science
To acquire that bridge of untold reason
For artist down throughout the ages
Have awakened the soul to its season.
The emotions arise, fly, excite
Those creatures of the inspirational mind
Poets, musicians, painter, writers
By what ever character there we find
All artists, All Magicians.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 12:39 PM UTC
Oh ferocious angels,
lionesque children of Eden
on narrow streets and polluted alleyways
whispering cruel things to each other,
you're radiant in your belligerence
and as my enemies you are virtuous.
Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room
a faint glow exhales
from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating
firefly wings of blossoms
alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray
diamond shine and shimmer.
Dusty tin roofs billow
firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted
mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding.
Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which
jot up and up arduous ruby landings,
hardwood floor cracked
and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways
of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur
the serpentine walls with memories.
Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with
avarice rebellious to concord living
harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes
empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva.
Few kinds of darkness transcendental
subduing other darkness to a weak shadow.
There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads
this intricate unspoken connection to those who
rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of
cars in July heat.
Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments
where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment
modern meditations practiced
finding a balance in such an anxious
volatile world like this.
Oh ferocious angels, impetuous
forlorn seraphs,
sing! sing and soar!
Boundless is our ardor
and our passion.
Unenclosed is the lion
in it's bloom.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
P-Pacifying storms with a soothing balm
E-Ever subduing the tempest's hod of harm
A-Allaying our minds of the raging alarm
C-Ceasing thunderous sounds with a palm
E-Earth dwellers seek a road to tranquil calm
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
They run.
They scream.
They beg for help.
Their homes are burned.
The women are *****
The children are tortured.
Everyone is killed.
A savior amidst the government and yet her lips sit on top of each other, only opening to condemn the persecuted Rohingya...
A Nobel Peace Prize winner revealing herself as an assailant of ethics.
The Rohingya.
The humans denied aid by almost every brother and sister,
THOUSANDS of men, women, children,
are drowning, burning, pleaing for mercy,
as you sit in your comfy chair and read this poem,
as i sit in this bed writing this poem.
The Rohingya are looking into the eyes of a Buddhist state;
looking down the barrel of a gun pointed at them from infancy.
An entire culture dedicated to dehumanizing humans...
An entire coalition of states conforming to locking the Rohingya out...
A state committing textbook genocide.
A world subduing to textbook ignorance.
And the Rohingya fighting for the right to live
For the right to be
Human
The Rohingya must not flee, nor fear persecution, for We shall stand by the Rohingya!
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
When the lights dim and the music gets loud
I search for your face that I lost in the crowd
I sway back and fourth to the sound of the beat
My hips constant motion matches the rhythm of my feet
And I survey the dance floor looking for a suitor
But I know you’ll dance with me no matter what and not her
The music penetrates my soul and mind
You’re the only body I want to find
Pull me close and never let me go
Take me out to every late show
And I’ll dance with you from the night till the dawn
And we’ll never have a dull moment or the faintest yawn
We’ll party like it’s 1983
And at the fading of the music I’ll get to take you home with me
And if I’m lucky you’ll spend the night
We’ll wake up together from the sunbeams of light
And we’ll do it all over again
When we can
Because honey your body pressed up again mine
Is nothing short of blissful, divine
And feeling your heat radiate through me
Is better than a sedative or a tranquilizer at subduing me
I call your name in my head in the club
In anticipation of seeing you my thoughts blow up
And I can’t wait till our eyes meet once more
I knew I wanted you the moment you walked through that door
Dance with me under the moon and the sun
Come on baby, the night is still young
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
The Mademoiselle I saw in the sea
Her dress impersonating the rhythm of the air
Her messy mahogany hair impersonating the rhythm of the dress.
The waves had their own cadence
just like how her tresses would cover her all of her face but her eyes
the waves would cover all of her body but her face
She was pretty tall. Even for the waves. Out of their reach.
She had the fingers of an artist. Shy and beautiful.
And every time they made way through her hair to her ears
Her beauty unfolded a little more.
Contemplating the sunset, she’d wrap her arms around her shoulders
I realized it isn’t everyday that you behold such magic when
the glowing sun, a crisp circle in the ****** sky
revealed a path in the meek waves that led directly to her
Impulses to take the initiative, capering all over me without fail
Though completely stupefied by her beauty, I could still remember every detail
Whether it was her eyes that gazed upon the horizon
or her toes that twitched under the water owing to the cold.
The interspace between us. A little extra than I asked for
Her silhouette against the subduing sky. I knew I was falling for her
Dear Mademoiselle I saw in the sea
Though enamored by all, you’re something more to me.
Mademoiselle I saw in the sea, I fancy you to set me free
Mademoiselle I saw in the sea, agree to receive my apology.
Wasn’t undaunted enough to talk to you then,
but I bespeak if I ever see you again
Mademoiselle I saw in the sea, I wouldn’t just let you be
Mademoiselle I saw in the sea, I’d tell you
I’d tell you, you feel like home to me.
Mademoiselle, I saw in the sea, i’m not lying when I say I misseth thee
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
Galloping,—
a harras of silhouette in the night’s shade.
Prancing swiftly as carelessly as winds in their mane.
Grey smoke blows out of their muzzle;
like hot ash subduing the algid night air.
A hill covered in a dark following,
a caliginous beauty site,—
In the uncut grass, trampled by costless hooves.
I was the ground crunched by a night’s dream.
My eyes shut; nervous by the shaking lips,
and cold sweats. It was beautiful,—
it was dark. It was wild; yet felt so freeing.
I was it’s witness, and conjecture.
I was in awe by beauty, but left breathless by
it’s haunting perception.
So was it a ghastly dream, or an alluring nightmare?
Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 5:43 AM UTC
Your pity is a cheap thing, I realize injurious truth
tattooed on pale canvas are illustrations
I should have never seen
and without bending I display them
on the outside of me.
Your pity is a cheap thing, I wiped myself clean
stinking of rancid perfume, oh former lovers
spectres that plague my bedsheets
when I'm beneath you saturated
by the outside of you inside of me.
Your pity is a cheap thing, I sizzled against you
whirlwind speech absorbed in clutch pillows
moisture betraying my timid refusal.
What is it that I can't beat
the power in you, subduing me.
You only pity things that come cheap.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
On torrid winds from whence it came
A lurid light has taken aim
Bold and bright and dry it seeks
Cold and quiet eyes to pique
For change is that, a whipping wind
A blinding light that has no end
Curst and harsh and strong it burns
At worst it marks us with concern
When torrid light has gone or come
And horrid sights of change begun
It can admit a ranging chorus
Attending to what changes for us
And it's just that, the music notes
Of binding, tight, subduing hope
The skipping sounds of steps that pass
The winds of change that never last…
walk with me a while
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 9:17 PM UTC
Rise
From the ashes of your failures
Rise
From the red hot burn of hate
Rise
From the dissonance subduing your own unique flow
**Rise
Rise**
You are born to fight the fickleness of life
**Rise
Believe in yourself
Far greater than all your misfortunes combined**
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
a jade rimmed cup and painted saucer
cradle warmth laced with gentle sweetness
subduing roasted strength into peaceable stability.
whites and creams and chestnut browns
froth and dissolve into a delicate caramel shade
as minutes are sipped away in uncommon quietness.
yours is always the shy whisper--
i love you.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
You are my perfect nightlight
Giving me light in darkness
Subduing the fear in me
Protecting my shins
From dangerous coffee tables
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC