"suckles" poems
Goddess of virility suckles me
to ******
Her legs stiffen…
to acute angles.
Toes, ballerina firm
make her
body—
levitate from the bed.
A smile reveals…fangs
the tips of which
are barely…touching
my ear.
The lizard tongue hisses in ecstasy
revealing ancient—spiritual…bliss
mystics could only
speculate of.
Her anaconda legs
wrap—
around my back
as her fingernails
embed into
my spine.
When I yank
Her hair
Her eyes
Scream inside out.
Our bodies—
Swimming in
An ocean of ravenous
Liquids pulsating from our pores.
Sopping hair clings
to our foreheads
we suddenly realize—
A new shape is invented.
We make a sound so primal
inside each other’s mouth
as her jaws snap down
to my neck—
both bodies rigor-mortis stiffen
as the mountains collapse around us
and the sky is ripped open as a tsunami
billows down into a wave of exhaustion.
The wind cradles us,
Back to the earth
We split,
Admiring a new continent
We created.
Our limp bodies—
numb from the velocity and suggestions
resign to the crater
we call a bed.
We smile, simultaneously,
looking past
our brains,
realizing…
in this moment
we, are one.
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 7:18 AM UTC
Light has shone, light as death,
Sunset is gathered in fishing nets,
Like a twine of leafy stems.
~The coldest sea is the blood
Of the murdered and aggrieved~
Scaly Autumn of lost fires and dragon plumes,
Lanterns in the fog, graverobbers of the moon,
Light has shone, suckles at the tomb.
Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 9:39 PM UTC
it seems my entire life is defined by drinks.
mother's milk out the womb.
(and maybe those suckles were sweet - it's not like i remember - but her words, for the rest of my life, certainly weren't.)
an hour-long debate, with my best friend at twelve years old - apple or orange juice?
(orange, obviously, is the right answer. we rehash the argument sometimes to this day.)
the day i turn 19, a beer in my hands.
(i'm sat around a campfire with my closest friends, birthdays all older than me - the beer tastes disgusting, as cheap alcohol is, but i'm glad to be there.)
yesterday, i had 1 coffee and 2 mugs of lemon honey tea, 4 glasses of water.
today, no tea, but 2 cups of coffee, a glass of milk, and 3 glasses of water.
i bite at my nails when i'm nervous, swallow down the spit that comes with it, the bile that rises.
last summer, i visited pei, had a raspberry cordial - my favourite drink to date - then bought a case of 4 more to take home with me.
last summer, when i lived in new brunswick, my friends in the same building knew me as the one who would always have a drink in hand - a milk tea, or maybe a pink lemonade, maybe that obscure korean soda i liked.
when i left new brunswick, i took a photo of my 2 trash cans, of the way they were both filled to the brim with empty bottles and cans and jugs.
i still miss the apple cider they made there.
my life is defined by drinks, sips, swallows, taking five minutes to breathe by making myself a nice whipped coffee, trawling the internet for pretty coasters and glassware for an hour in lieu of doing actual work.
Eventually, i close the shopping tabs, take a sip of coffee, and resume with the rest of my life.
Nov 5, 2023
Nov 5, 2023 at 7:38 PM UTC
Running around in circles
Both hands held in shackles
To hope, this beating heart suckles
As every tear on my face trickles
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
In the face of persecution, one can drift away into dreamy fabrications of swishing and gorgeous hairstyles – jealous of the seagull as it dismounts the lofty perch of the streetlight and gracefully swoops away into the distance.
The moment of self-loathing and raging sabotage is nothing more than a serial false loyalty.
I validate your alphabet where there is simplicity within the intricate complexities, and where the yearling suckles the lactations of its mother.
Trauma has pre-natal connections where silent screams ripple throughout eternity. Therefore, calmly observe the stiff upper lip of deluded professionalism, and describe the realistic mirage before you. Participation in laughter is not always rooted in sincerity.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 10:40 PM UTC
The cup gleams gold in the light
Golden liquid overflowing
Round bowl on a slender stem.
On the table beside it are apples.
Red, yellow, glowing,
Globed sunlight bursting with juice.
Outside in the meadow, the cows
Brown and white, gentle eyed, lowing,
As the calf pushes and pulls on the ****
Staggers a little and suckles.
Warm milk for the jug.
A blue and white bowl holds the cream.
Blue and white is the sky above
Brown and deep the buzzing of bees
Making the foxgloves bend and bow
Under the coolness of trees
Where the earth holds the richness of leaves
And the bones of the ancestors rest
In the land of the ever blessed.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
Smoking a beer
Drinking a cigarette
Greenery, a waterfall coming
Up from the ground
Suckling at the roots
And the dirt.
My tongue suckles
At my busted lips.
Headache, muscles aching
Uncontrollably.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Suckles at first were curst
To be the homes of flies,
And smell'd like open tombs
With putrefying eyes.
But Christ, who saves the worst
(If so He wills) from death,
Did mercy give the blooms
By giving them His breath.
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 4:39 PM UTC
Look down
From on high
Lord knows
How bleeds your sharp knife
Incisor
My pack fights tooth and nail
Our brood suckles hard
Gets our due from each ****
Renewable Romulus and Remus
Makes Mother happy
Her pups engaged
Zeus burst his brain making you
Jupiter’s irrational exuberance
Pumped up
Hear me now
Believe me later
We guttersnipes must contend
With your white largesse
**** on us trickler
At least give us jobs
Blown handy our daily ****
Rather eat ***
Off a silver platter
Served by Salome
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
His hands
burn away at my momentary doubt
my skin becomes softer beneath his lips.
his lips taste like a postage stamp for an unwritten letter
with slowly drifting fingers, he writes to me:
he asks about my day with his palm on my rib cage and his sighs in my ear.
he kisses the center of my chest, and tells me a story about friends I've never met
he suckles my ****** when he talks about his alcoholic father.
and he writes goodbye with his hips between my thighs.
he provides no return address.
he simply signs his name.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
Making best use of the adverse weather
Road kittens and puppies grow together
The ma dog suckles the kittens orphaned
And the ma cat though wary of suckling the pups
Keeps a watch on the pups so they don’t stray too far
Besides keeping them together in the warmth of her fur
Before my eyes happen this caring effortless
Why men find it hard to care thus for happiness!
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Bullets stand ***** directly projecting from
The decaying flesh hugging gauzy esophaguses
Like unicorn horns delivering vast oceans
Of blood oaths upon their palms
With octave ranges of innocent angels
Tainted with the **** sins carved
By the tainted fingers of evil deeds
Awaiting the taste of the nether regions
Of a destitute harlot; I must warn you
She grows weary of using her body
As a pedestal to your waterfalls of *****
Yet she suckles your ***** with the fury
Of a thousand demons on the prowl to slaughter
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 3:40 PM UTC
I see you grow stronger with every step. Painful strides that would rip and tear the sinews of those less fortified. I since and shudder as you struggle, but my admiration for you grows in intensity. I could not dream of stopping you now.
With somber whispers, you explain to me, that you are a parasite, feeding upon me like a carrion swarm. A leech makes numb, the meal on which is suckles, and goes unnoticed by its gracious host. How then, could comparisons be crafted, when I feel such sensations as I hold you near? How could this be, when my every thought is tied to you by tender strings?
This pulsing glow you spy in me is a synthesis, the aftermath of a sweet symbiotic explosion that shook my foundations! A chemical attraction that mixed you and me to make us anew. You cannot take what is freely given, and that which I treasure most was already yours from the start.
Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 1:25 PM UTC
He sneaks into my mind in slumber,
emanating his fervor; awakening *****
to a frenzy, then whispering wet
licks against me, I whimper deep
within from his delicious torment;
labials unveil for tongued ecstasy.
Wallowing in my bedewed rose; he
breathes its ambrosia with tongue &
nose, stiffens each dip into garden
of Eden, he knew I'd buck and tremble
begging to feel him deeper; unearthing
sighs and whispers.
Touching me with promises; as I eye his
sinewy masculinity, entwined limb to limb
our desire erupts each plunge into
paradise, wet, each teased withdrawal,
inner muscles contract breathing him back
in, rising to meet and sheath his firmness
in unuttered realms of ecstasy.
I whisper, need to swallow his measure;
and sweet hotness trickles down throat,
********* my own wetness; he greedily suckles
one at a time savoring its aftertaste, tonguing
me to taste what he's enjoying, moving slowly
in and out.
And...
I shudder from the sheer feel deeply
embedded as his passion leaves me
softly broken.
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
Eyeball god in mouth
Ostara?…Dio?…Luna? …
Is light as hunger for colors?
Eros the god of eyes and the hidden feelings
shameful man with ***** **** — sighing ***
in his heart — a crack, deep and wide!
Black Hole!
Punk rock for a Black Hole!
Rainbow and jubilee exploded in flood!
Like a ***** universe all of our pornographic desires
moments of starving stars and **** stars!
An eyeless god living in a glass tube with hearts
like hot flashes in heat-blasted rooms!
Pulsing pimples — swirling while a midnight sky
brings forth a cacophony of cosmic screams!
More impassioned raw-animal! More barking!
more vibrations — more imminence!
More sinewy limbs on show — ***** I’m looking at —
lifeless grey body but voracious pink face!
It licks and whimpers, suckles and *****
Shall I become a statue again? — glazed face with eyes
sheers-white in precession of Venus?
Hey! Taint! Milk it!
:: 11.12. 2020 ::
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 12:23 AM UTC
Two protruding supple *******
on much toned down
lactating, tender *******
swollen, in anticipation
of thirst, awaiting open mouthed,
---are gently pushed in between
pursed, eager, fumbling lips,
of the newborn, who in no way knows,
what happens, in this world of strangers.
When milk in one is fully drained, as if by prompt,
it's the turn of the other full one, he knows.
Each one is avariciously taken in
by saliva dripping cute baby lips,
instinctively discerns it as "Mama dear"
even without opening tired eyes
that fear the rushing, hurting light.
Motherly warmth, the distinct scent,his nose smells first
the bonding felt, when held close to her warm *******
incessant flow of lukewarm milk of love;
aren't these enough to make her presence felt
in the baby's nascent mind, that craves for a mom?
This is the precise moment, of the 'new born mother'
Mother, the flowing milk of life, protector, care giver.
As if in a dream just began to unfold,
the new born, like a bloom disarmingly smiles!
Closing her eyes as if to join in the baby's dream,
the mother suckles the infant in self oblivion.
The meaning of the pride written on her face
in hues of crimson, only a mother could fully discern.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
i will give you things.
at first, i will give you honey suckles bound in the locks of auburn hair,
a gentle smile, a refreshing breeze. i will give you monuments dedicated to a single glance, and you will take all of these things with pleasure.
i will give you warm rain, and deep woods, and all the clichés we hear every day but we still love to talk about because we love them, i will give you love like them, like stars showing the dawn their shy bodies, like waves proclaiming all of these things i will give you.
i will give you all forms of love.
i will give you the best possible physical love, i will give you the most elegant touches and the most jarringly inappropriate whispers. yes, i will give you ********
i will give you lessons in art, lessons in cooking, lessons in life. i will give you honesty, and truth, and commitment, and i will give you spellbound nights where all we do is talk about how the philosophers got it all wrong, that Plato was an idiot for saying we could only find death in love, look at us; look at this. i will give you the ability to teach me, i will give you the crescendo of my youth.
i will give you the crescendo of our relationship.
and then, one day, i will give you a little less. i will still give. i will still give you speeches about world events, i will give you the coffee i make in the morning, i will give you touches that aren't as passionate but they are touches nonetheless.
i will give you midnight runs to the store, i will give you medicine for when you are sick and i will give you the ability to nurse me as well.
i will give and i will give and i will give every day, each day & it will be a little less, until one day, i will give you nothing.
i will give you a profound silence, i will give you the absolute void. i will give you a pitch black abyss, nothing at all, and just when you reach the pit of despair, just when you think you've hit the bottom, the bottom will fall out and i will give you less than nothing.
i will give you screams instead of silence. i will give you hands peeled to the bone and bleeding because they have given and given and given and there's nothing less but less. i will give you a broken home, a broken heart, i will give you memories that will anchor to the bottom of your sea & know you will never be able to get rid of them because they are the skeleton of a ship wreck & did you know, in the Mediterranean there are still preserved shipwrecks in the murky depths of that ocean from Grecian times? i will give you these little reminders of mortality.
i will give you regret that sits on an empty shelf collecting dust particles. i will give you a taste for whiskey because it allows you to languish. i will give you the worst kind of wounds, the kind that time does not give a **** about, the kind that stars even pray over. i will give you a little less faith, i will diminish your ability to trust your instincts. i will give you complete and utter devastation, i will give you repeated cliches on their backs: hurricanes, tornados, tsunamis. i will crack your collar bone, i will crack your skull. i will leave you as an abandoned house, worn down and empty.
i will give you everything, all of these things, and more; if i give you my hands right now.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
You, that flower barely blooming; I bear thy pollination.
It is my purpose solely to cause the fruit of thy creation.
Nano art, my pantheism is objective idealism. God is in the details:
the stamen, the leaf… all is fractal, some charmingly chaotic,
All scenery composed, each part of reality is a representation;
a word of the language of reality in her garden.
Her voice is sweet like the honey suckles. Pale like her petals.
All a play, a dance, a game to the night and the sun, and to all her beloved travelers.
And while I watch her, this star behind moon and trees, behind all that I see;
behind my very being. Reality, her character is through and through me.
And in the act of creation, flower and I are as her representations,
There is no thought to our most profound desires.
Innate will to live; our mother is the essence.
Death and life are her androgyny displayed
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:32 AM UTC
******* on tobacco as a child suckles the breast
its been more years than a man cares to count.
All the dire warnings are put aside with, 'count your blessings'
" it could have been worse, I could have been a non smoking teetotal genocidal serial killer like Adolf ******
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
Smiles and flowers live in those moments
Where love will last forever.
Memories made of enchanting things
Are held by us together.
Beautiful thoughts like lakeside shores,
Flood me everyday.
Springtime is a thought that passes,
But love resides always.
Only happiness exists these days
When thinking back to sweet times.
Like lyrics in a melody,
It sounds quite like paradise.
Honey suckles fill the air
In that field of love.
Clouds start to gather
While rain pours down
On us from up above.
Laughter is all the remains now
When thinking of the past.
The only thing that resides there now,
Is a love that will forever last.
©KSS 2012
Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 11:24 AM UTC
I cried these dirges brashly,
After these long nights
While my skin cracks;
Irrigating it with my dry tears
By the desperate harmattan;
My cries are a rustling of leaves under a sun
That never fades- washing my face in strict rays
Its attendance is long overstayed;
Resting on my absent mind
I sit outside in the world’s
Quick-witted; criticizing eyes
Weeping proudly without a rush of blinking tears;
This everyday world isn’t my beloved home to own-
A shelter neglecting to cover my nakedness
I sit outside in the world’s
Quick-witted; criticizing eyes
With a tiny cloth left damp, sodden and weary
By the stretched tears flowing down my bare *******
The world quickly suckles on my grief –
Biting, pulling, and scarring them by their buds
calling it all fair by its, “Budding remarks”
With the goalmouth of getting itself full up;
Never nursing the agony.
Oh, how my heart hurts!
Jul 4, 2024
Jul 4, 2024 at 2:22 PM UTC
I find solace in the years
coupled with many fears.
I am yearning for death,
question breath in my chest.
Why did I fight for the egg?
Why leave my siblings?
Drunk on ideas,
an ugly duckling
suckles curious.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
In the silence of my heart I feel this flowering;
budding with every whisper against my soul,
calling; enwrapping me within his ambrosia
as each silken petal brushes against softness,
I bow demurely into his maleness.
Looking out upon the horizon; I glimpse our
silhouettes entwined in the midst of golden
rays, haloed as his lips partake in loves
sweetest nectar and his tongue articulates
in heated breaths, I linger in its aftertaste.
Adoring the twinkle in his eyes as they take
in the beauty of my flowering chasm, awaiting
its calyx approach; slowly impinging in its
fragrance, savoring; hovering and dipping as a
honeybee suckles nectar.
I tremble like a softly blown breeze in his wake;
as his hands glide upon my countenance,
teasing each contoured petal; placing me gently
upon our flowered bed of strewn petals;
languishing in his arms as each whisper hums,
delighting in passion's rose.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC