"succulence" poems
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
What a sweet/savory masterpiece!
Always thought I would ask
for lobster as my last meal*
but your juicy succulence
touched my stomach
in naughty places
and now I cannot stop thinking of you!
I think it goes without saying
that you're the best tasting burger on the planet
despite the fact that I have yet to try
all the burgers on the planet.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 4:49 AM UTC
How long will our bewildered heirs
marooned in possessions not theirs
puzzle at disposing of these three
cunning feignings of hard candy in glass-
the striped little pillowlike mock-sweets,
the flared end-twists as of transparent paper?
No clue will be attached, no trace
of the sunny day of their purchase,
at a glittering shop a few doors
up from Harry's Bar, a disappointing place
for all its testaments from Hemingway.
The Grand Canal was also aglitter
while the lesser canals lay in the shade
like snakes, flicking wet tongues
and gliding to green rendezvous.
The immaculate salesgirl, in her aloof
Italian succulence, sized us up,
a middle-aged American couple,
as unserious shoppers who,
still half jet-lagged, would cling to their lire
in the face of any enchanted vase
or ethereal wineglass that might shatter
in the luggage going home.
Yet we wanted something, something small ....
This? No ... How much is ten thousand? Dizzy,
at last we decided. She wrapped
the three glass candies, the cheapest
items in the shop, with a showy care
worthy of crown jewels-tissue,
tape, and tissue again sprang up
beneath her blood-red fingernails,
plus a jack-in-the-box-shaped paper bag
adorned with harlequin lozenges, sad
though she surely was, on her feet waiting
all day for a wild rich Arab, a compulsive Japanese.
Grazie, signor ... grazie, signora ... ciao.
Nor will our thing-weary heirs decipher
the little repair, the reattached triangle
of glass from the paper-imitating end-twist,
its mending a labor of love in the cellar,
by winter light, by the man of the house,
mixing transparent epoxy and rigging
a clever small clamp as if to keep
intact the time that we, alive,
had spent in the feathery bed
at the Europa e Regina.
4.5k
i remember
gettin' kinkykinky in the backseat
while your friend drives
illumined shoulderblades in the dimmers
your step daddy doesn't have much
say in us running away since you're 18
your mommy never loved me
and how i don't normally fit in things
told me you'd be going to school
in Kirtland, but i'm missing out
on how thick you're getting
for the waving tiers of succulence
belting in your stomach
profusion of feelings confusing your tongue
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
I'd swim there
forever,
in those delicate waters,
shimmering,
basking
in your elegance,
cascading
from
the pool in the small of your back,
down between
the beauty
of your womanhood,
in your succulence,
I'd dive.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
The pizza took her place in bed. It slathered itself all over her.
The pizza objectified my body.
It slid between her ******* leaving traces of red sauce and strands of hot, almost liquid cheese in the nook of her cleavage.
It slowly dripped off of her ******* as she spread its residue across her *****
From there, the succulent, almost watery juices rolled off of her teet and onto her folded legs as she knelt there in the store window.
Everyone could see her.
But as long as those who were most enthralled came inside to purchase a pie or two, no one seemed to care.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC
Night comes
r
o l l i
n g
down again
in painted coats
of thick onyx
clouding my vision
as if a brightly-striped
cuttlefish,
sister of squid
has enveloped me
in its
dark liquid
sea ink
an opaque vapor
for protection,
a shimmering
sheild against
disillusionment
pain of potential
loss
endless strands
of longing
knotting in my
hair like kelp
keeping me rooted
to the sea floor,
feet ensconced in
the soft squish
of muck and earth
Miraculously,
I breathe,
as if a sea nympth,
a mermaid
holding on to
the silvery scales
of her reality
indigo-dipped
in deepest iridescence
blending with fronds
of vibrant greens
and I am floating
within a vast membrane
of brine
somehow nuturing,
liquid cushion
of womb-water
letting it slake
the piquancy of thirst
that bursts my tongue
into succulence
Spiked in sea stars
like thorny crowns,
I reach out to
discover new textures
puncture the dark
with my fingers
enfold those waters
to me,
letting them
rock the soul
of my soul
the heart
of the seed
of my heart
and allow my
sonar, as powerful
as a whale's
encompassing call
to surge up
through nautical miles
of ocean depths,
buoyed through layers
of waves
up unto
the winds
that ride,
ever-tenderly,
the surface
of
the
dawn
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
He bites his lips, the shape of ***
and creases his brow.
A musty breeze from the bar’s open door
sends me the taste of his breath,
cheap peppermint and wine.
Its succulence dulls my senses.
His terrible fingers trace my neck,
and I forget about the danger.
And he pounces, an incubus,
an ancient resident of urban wells like this one.
But his mouth is so sweet,
I cannot care.
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
09/09/10 13.26
Just eaten the last of your figs x
End
There is just so much to know about the fig.
Andre Gidé, D.H.Lawrence,
Gabriela Mistral
Poets all
Have tried
To decode
Its secret enclosed form.
*Since nothing escapes
the smell becomes succulence and taste.
A blossom without beauty, yet a fruit of delights...*
A year ago
When I brought autumn to your table
I tried to explain
The fig’s ****** nature . . .
and failed.
I was too shy
And mumbled something about
Its gynaecological aspect.
Now I know you better
And your hand has cupped
My testicles
Can you not
Appreciate the similarity?
The size and shape is
. . . similar
It seems male
This secretive fruit
But when you come to know it better,
You’ll agree with Catullus,
It is female.
Oh fig, fruit of female mystery where everything happens invisible flowering and fertilization,and fruiting in the inwardsness of your you that eye will never see till its finished and you’re over-ripe and you burst to give up your ghost.
Yesterday
(After we had eaten figs
From the blue bowl
Bathing in the golden light
Of your September garden)
I felt that ripe and secret cleft
Open to my ***** touch
And kiss and kiss
Kiss and kiss
Touch me: it is softness of good satin, and when you open me, what an unexpected rose! Poets have not known the colour of night, nor the figs of Palestine. We are both the most ancient blue, a passionate blue, richly concentrating itself because of its ardor. I spill my pressed flowers into your hand. I create a deaf meadow for your pleasure. I shower you with the meadow's bouquet until covering your feet.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 2:34 AM UTC
Dear Oysters,
Today there came a moment
when your succulence caused
tears of joy to suddenly burst out exploding.
They shot out, streaming down thirsty cheeks,
drunk and drinking salt water
... reminiscent of you.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
Dreams flower in the silence of morning,
Fragile wishes
For tomorrow's tomorrows....
I feel his touch,
Tangible,
My heightened pulse
Aroused;
The wanton shivers,
Desirous and smitten;
The magma flows, deep in my soul;
Where his scorch of passion burns...
Embers sear, crimson,
Masquerading masked desires,
Dripping from his tongue's tip;
Sultry trickles graze upon my flesh,
A gentle sting, as fire-licks
His breath across my thighs,
A bite of ecstasy, murmur-whispering
Carnal need…
Imprints of insatiable,
Bind me willingly,
A fiery bandage
Piercing the scorch of hungry lips
Flaming my *******
With breath dissolved inside a kiss...
He savours the honey stream,
Branding his name upon my
Swelling, luscious pink…
Deeply buried
Arching into his mouth
Unable to contain the flame
Tambourines of skin seep ecstasy,
Ripen succulence untamed...
Kaleidoscoping emotions
Rainbow the thunder of my heart;
Milk and honey fuse,
Pulsing,
As rivers of love flood my core...
One love,
One passion,
One desire,
Bodies merging..........
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
Lightening flickers between us.
The sky gasps and opens,
then the floods come
lapping upwards.
Do you remember
the torrent, my love,
when we surrendered to the wet?
That ****** of seed
was lust for life.
But then the world whirled
so quickly and
the dry came back.
The earth cracked between us
when we parted,
and the wet withered away.
So, while the sun still burns,
I stand this poem, *****
against the sifting sands,
an obelisk for the wind to lick,
that I may remember later
the sustenance and succulence
of our season.
My heart and tongue quiver
when I talk again of
the wet.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 12:42 AM UTC
#
.
*To feel things as deeply and as multi-layered as you do-- instantly and all-together, at once.. is to live a life that is far too often right on the edge of temptation, right on the edge of falling. The Art of holding on to who it is that you are, is to never betray that beautiful Self of yours.. whether in word, or deed.. at any given time. Ok it is to f e e l things as deeply as your luscious body and spirit so fully can, but as you already so clearly know.. certain "acting on's" can create such havoc within and to the things (people) you find important.
. .
That being said, a form of self-betrayal also is to deny yourself the beautiful Gift of fully feeling at all.. in order to help keep a peace that will forever come at the cost of who you truly (fully, within yourself) are.. even if it were to be acted out all alone on the edge of your bed.. or even against the back of a couch. In the world of Magic and Deep Deep, Beautiful Feeling, there is always a place for the win-win within you, and also within the world that you currently live in, over there.
You are an artist. An artist F E E L S.
The Universe will always, always help you find a way.
Always. xox
. . .
You are far too strong and stubborn to ever fully give up. That, I know. There is also a 'weakness' within you that hinges around the word "Vulnerability" when the Beautiful world of Magic overwhelms and then truly overtakes you. Your spirit's receptors are far too deeply intertwined into the gorgeous molecules of that lusciously-Responding body of yours. That makes your Path (your "Portion") that much more difficult to endure. There is a tremendous aloneness (loneliness) in living a life that has to so often be subdued, solely due to the consequences within others that truly do not understand. What you need most of all.. is simply to be Understood.. yes, Kid.. within all of that seemingly tremendous complexity of feelings and experiences.. your brilliant complexity of mind.. and the succulence of body that so gorgeously feels.. Everything.
It is not a "Curse", young Love.
It is a beautiful, beautiful Blessing.
. . . .
Surround yourself (if you can) with those who understand (because they struggle within the "Deeply Feeling" world as much as you). It is in no way an act of unfaithfulness (in any way whatsoever) to fully feel. Finding for yourself the most beautiful of Releases within those Moments of deep feeling is the beginning of your way 'out'.. and (so very lusciously), the way through. You are so very worth your own fighting for.. in order to hold on to every single part of who it is that you are.
Every single beautiful part
(and those within you that you currently "think" are not beautiful)*
#
Aug 28, 2023
Aug 28, 2023 at 8:29 PM UTC
Oh, of that scarlet succulence!
where the limits of unfamiliarity
succumb to the aloof setting
of one room containing two souls!
Oh, of that scarlet succulence!
As dulcet lips and trembling hands
dance across a field of such
unblemished skin and pouncing fragrance!
Oh, of that scarlet succulence!
Where your body doesn't contain you alone,
and mind doesn't contain me alone,
but each of us dissipates into the other!
Oh, of that scarlet succulence!
Where joy is no longer a word,
but the sound of a pant lost between
clenches of your hand and body!
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
I am stranger to the taste
of candor, honor, or courage
a bland and simple fruit.
Exceptional at nothing,
I am exceptionally nothing--
withered from the stem,
the whole way through.
However I have seen
the pallor in your cheek:
a tempting succulence.
Salvation rests beneath
your ripened skin.
I will break the unmarked flesh
I will learn
to be
honorable too,
once I have had
the whole of you.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
and these waves
of longing
are burning me
into stumbled
desert trances
as I crawl, parched
upon
earth that
sears and spears
my limbs
my inner organs,
once wet
with the fire
of my blood
now only
ashen embers
the very salt
of the sum of
my wounds
lacerated open -
barely held by
a secret tourniquet
wrapped tight, ******* me
in reverse tempest
and I clamor within my being
move in jolts,
like a voodoo dance
zombie girl
stuck in the hell
of no-woman's land
a landscape of spires
piercing me hot
making the sharpened path
dangerous for strangers
As for me,
I can only succumb to
their scalding roast
if I want to somehow
get out alive,
my skin charred
from that branding of insults
my heart scarred
from countless lashes
that your serpent's tongue
has inflicted upon me
This.
is not the pleasure
of being tethered
tender flesh teased
until writhing
This.
is not the grind
of earthen fire
and sky mixed
with underwater lava,
swarming cloistered whispers
into my brain temperatures
This.
is not the conflagration of
love seeds developing
into a ripe field
of the succulence of lustfruit
This.
Is just an
attempt
to wear down
the goddess in me
And to that
I say
No.
I turn the other cheek
to your barbed wire lies.
In the frequencies of the
next universe over,
an echo bursts into flames
rapidly oxidizing,
licking into
nourishment
the rebirth
of my
own
divinity
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Eleven o'clock in the afternoon today,
Yet my eyes find it hard to keep themselves awake,
While my breath struggles to breathe well, to inhale fate,
And my body tends to eat food that starts to oxidate!
And my mind
is still stuck in between it's broken place
While the broken are breaking bones just to give themselves a break!
And I
try to hide my poems from this world, it's timeless fate,
And sit by
while my generation has the largest growing suicide rate!
But my
friends are pushing closer to the end of that date,
While my
family does it's best to help people find grace!
Why would I
who has all this talent try to stow it away,
When I
could use it to save lives, maybe find someone to save!
Someone open my eyes, let them be open wide!
For these past years I've let go on by
While I sit back down and watch them die!
For every day rises a new sun, a purposeful light
And my days were made for more, not just a singular life!
But the rhyme in my poems keeps me tangled inside
Like my words are solution, but the coffin surprise
Is waiting there for me like I can't tell you why
The pages recede and the shoreline declines
While the shadow in secret awaits me at 9!
My words bring my death and the end of my time!
The promise I wrote you was written in white
So I can say I can't see it, I can say that I'm blind
But the fact that we're dancing has it's own facts implied
That I promised you this, but I left you to die!
Forgive me-
These words were meant to make you whole
But it left you a hole in your side-
Believe me-
These lies were meant to make you know
That I would not tell you goodbye-
Deceive me-
Like I deceived you so intricately
Like the ending was designed by me!
Like I'm the mastermind behind the scheme!
I'm the demon of minds, I'm the things that I speak!
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
For you will find yourself looking back
Wondering why, bottled up in regret.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
I enjoy the word "sweet," it accurately describes the succulence of your lower lip
I wish to ****
and bite, and bruise.
"Hard" is your body, lean and tough
and assumedly rough
intense
passionate, all those lovely sensual adjectives that cheesy soft-erotica novellas
(that I "don't read")
use to describe a Man on a horse,
or in a fireman's coat, covered in soot,
saving kitties and pleasing cougars.
You are quite the male that I crave,
absolute perfection in human form that tempts and tortures my guilty thoughts and heaving breaths
so that I feel like one of those helpless heroines who swoon over a sensitive, wounded man.
But God do I want to inflict wounds on you, and lick them clean.
You have been a bad boy;
go to my room.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 6:09 PM UTC
creation is the principle
caught between life
and death,
between the succulence of sustenance
and erratic destructiveness,
the gestations of hereafter,
cascading novelties heretofore,
a reflective dynamism,
in the moving mirror,
the bitter-sweet
sweet-bitterness,
of paradoxes pumping,
a living death
that is,
what dies
into loves thrusting,
the fecund surge of heart,
upon the looming edge,
between the past lined birth place,
and the precipice.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
#Don't you understand?
--The back-pasture fences, lay down
Opening up to more back-pasture, grasses
u n c o n t a in e d,
by fences, laid down..
only to be surrounded in the distance
by more, back-pasture grasses..
And yes.. my beautiful Beloved--
with its fences also, laid down
You are a Thoroughbred, love.
Within your gorgeous succulence
lies the open-field,
of beautifully-unending grasses,
succulent.
#
Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 5:20 PM UTC
Leaning in for just a taste
a sample of sweetness
savoring the succulence
tempting my taste buds
tongue teasing
delving into delectableness
flavors fully satifying
sating sensually
yearning and longing
dining on divine delights
feasting on your kisses.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
Couldn’t sleep last night
so I did the next best thing
and quaffed caffeine until
cerebral vasoconstriction
set in
I think
I know I have always been embarrassed to be me
but I guess
if nothing else
Humiliation breeds diffident dissonance humbly so
so foggy up here
a tad bit soggy,
saturated with my diseased anatomical atoms
my dendrites retreating
softening like rotting fruit
so much potential so little actualization
synapses overloaded
with drugs
that I didn’t know
Like the lone tree in the farthest forrest
dendritic pestilence is high and corrosive
I’m high and corrosive
and
I sigh for the lovers that never knew I loved them.
I miss the lovers that I never knew I loved.
and
I love the lovers who didn’t don’t and wont love me.
Couldn’t sleep last night
so I did the next best thing
and mirrored the rain until
pillows were
sponges
I think
I know I have always wanted to be caressed slightly
but I guess
if nothing else
creation breeds ****** succulence cunningly so
so sticky down here
a tad bit rickety,
saturated with my diseased anatomical atoms
my elevated coronary coronated erosion
sputters like a misused Porsche
911
so much beauty so little left
arteries caked
with yesterday’s cigarette
that let me let go.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 9:57 AM UTC