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Nico Julleza Dec 2017
In a lonely place succumbs.
To my childhood till this day.
Carves the age of longevity.
When colors were once remained.
Blue captured eyes like fame.
Streets pathed along the way—
Guiding to a melancholy lane.

In times of November breeze.
Boat by boat each one sail's,
The building's growing moss—
that cries the tears of rain.
Slipping like a sultry state,
Washing what can never stay.
Filling through but twas too late.

To the race walking in romans.
Sparkles every narrative palm.
Marigolds that lead their way,
The cold traded from warm.
Everybody's longing a friend.
Dark night was a weeping tomb,
In places were life meets the end.
#Blue #Nature #Emotions #Friend

Missing someone I never met

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
K Balachandran Nov 2017
Gently you patted my cheek,
with a tenderness piquant,
not  known hitherto to us both.
Those quivering long fingers
exude motherliness,I miss ever after,
my mom has gone to her last pilgrimage,
And I crave for at moments of pain intense.

From the layers of memory darkened
by distance,I recover that feeling,
to place you instantly at a level higher,
than that of a sultry lover to whom
desire than anything higher binds together.

In to my lackluster eyes, you peer,
see the ineptly hidden drop of tear,
in the corner shivering plaintively
before rolling down to lose forever,
it's in the memory of my mother,
who rhythmically tapped my back,
led me to the cozy cloud of sleep,
when outside raged the rain storm,
I now gather, to a women I owe
when, time after time she takes
another avatar, of my mother,
momentarily, at times,when earth slips,
from under the feet
unexpectedly.
                         You did see the storm raging
inside and the child looking for solace.

You hold me close to your *****,
and I travel to a world gone by again
even when wolves howl refusing to sleep.
and let me doze off to wake up in another world!
Seldom do we wonder
At our own defenses
When lies are spreading
You run for cover of your fences
Underneath roofs and ceilings
You speak of the One
Who knows all your secret dealings
In the fire and the snow
The rainbow often turns yellow
Our ancestors dance on the edge of a needle
Blessing the fragments of your incarcerated heart
Imprisoned impermanence
Life is a lesson
Drunk on gypsum and water
You repeat this guttural embargo
Can we dance
Or do we follow
Grief is the missing piece in your puzzle
Saltwater runs down your face
I erase the razor’s path
Hundreds of fireflies insist you are their lover
In the diamond’s eye you become another
Sultry siren
Tumultuous teenagers breathe light and fire
Listen to the river going underneath your houses
Remove your clothes and wander in your underwear
With lungs of fire
You tread toward the tower
If you are stubborn enough
You may one day be discovered
aneeshans Nov 2018
We sat there in silence
time passes and

Stillness engulfs like a layer
you bite on my shoulders like an exiled animal
Made a deep cut enough for to bleed
Every time I move I can feel you on
My skin that burned into my flesh
I took a bite again and it tasted like strange fruit
On a gripping embrace, our winds weave between us


There is nothing quite remaining like a cry
As i wearing a collection of scars
The first bite of your bottom lip
Sultry, wrecked and drunken
You are the lemon tasted spoor
I want to gently nip at your ear
Devour every corner of your crescents
Wanted to outline your lips with my finger
Like carving a wet stone
I knew we were venom when in love

You open the beer bottle with
your teeth kind of a girl
I do not smell your perfume
Notice that you aren't misted any
I can feel you when
I reach the place you want to be touched
your hands pressed against me
Love me till the night darkens
taste me till I become tender to loose

Spring me with the wings
stitch them into my peel
make a sip from my rough soul
bite me to leave a stain
and kissed lips will always reminisce
the ones that made them shiver

I am filled with endless things,
I am quiet
I won’t let the moment go
And that is why I kissed you!
What can I say it provoked me.
The smokey black slithered with sultry grace
passed all my carefully placed defenses.

Humor me, it spoke
caressing the ear.

I watched the glow of it's single eye
searching my mind
The black became a tether
knotting, choking.

What can I say I did nothing,
little lamb laid to the slaughter.

I remember it choking, the smokey black.

Like a raven haired lover,
A mistress of shadow wills my curiosity
In that moment, lost to the movement
I would or could never return.

Pinned to obsession
staggering the lines of possession
A rebel's tango begins
the staccato steps to be my end.
about letting your problems win, night anguishes
ymmiJ Apr 1
Green light romance
Flirting seductively sultry thru the night
Enchanted I reach for you
Yep another northern lights poem. Hey, my wife thinks it's a green light from god himself to be a lil red devil, haha
Axion Prelude Dec 2017
The solitude of when two hands meet garners thoughts of warmth and want for needs unspoken

I miss the days when simplicity was as common as the delicate exhale shared when two lips release from one a other

To gaze through sultry windows of the soul, soft yet weary with fervent witness, beckons notions of wanderlust to a place that shines brighter than any I've ever seen

I watch, bound by valor for not seeking more through presumptuous ineptitude; bewildered by the plight you've been mired by, I wince at the thought of harm coming to you

Your trust exudes a powerful purpose; wrought from the ashes of all that have claimed to impose before, I succumb to the surfeit of such a staggering meaning in that gift

I hold myself in bated breath for the day you would ever need my heart for your own, but stay guided to be here in spirit, ever more

Although my basic wishes be forlorn, in somber muse I find great purpose to be a part of this grand fate bestowed upon me

You are all I've ever sought; and through disbelief, I am remiss of all that's mired me before

If only, one day, perhaps we could be more..
Terry O'Leary Feb 2014
THE MEETING

Alone one night neath lantern light, I trudged a weary mile.
Forlorn, I went with shoulders bent (the storms around me howled)
until I met a Silhouette behind a sultry smile –
She gazed with eyes that mesmerize (Her body caped and cowled)
and stayed my way with question fey, ‘Why don’t you while awhile?’

Though timorous (with slow address and gestures pantomimed)
Her voice was gracing echoes chasing waves in evening’s tide.
The churchyard groaned, an ***** moaned, the bells of midnight chimed
while wanton winds awoke and dinned, and mistrals multiplied.
The Persian moon, like stray balloon, arose and blithely climbed.

The Silhouette (a pale brunette) arched eyebrows meant to please,
and down the lanes, on windowpanes, the shadows danced and sighed.
A meadowlark within the dark, somewhere behind the breeze,
ennobled Her with wisps of myrrh while deigning to confide
to nightingales veiled whispered tales of human vanities.

She doffed her cloak before She spoke with sighs of sorrow sung
(like mandolins, as night begins, when mourning day’s demise)
and spun Her tale of grim travail and tears She'd shed when young.
As jagged volts of thunderbolts lit up the dismal skies,
a velvet fog embraced a bog in coils of curling tongues.

Through summer vales and winter gales Her secret thoughts were voiced.
Midst storms so cruel (neath lightning’s jewel that glistered on the ridge)
She reminisced, She touched... we kissed... Her lips were wet and moist...
A lighthouse dimmed, while moonbeams skimmed across a distant bridge
to avenues where residues of shallow shades rejoiced.

                        HER TRAGIC TALE

“Midst sweet perfume of youthful bloom, the lonely spirit braves
and often cries and sometimes dies in quest of her amour.”

While starry-eyed, a ship I spied, a’ sail upon the waves –
the galleon docked, the gannets flocked, the Captain swept ashore
where, debonair with gypsy flair, he led his salty knaves.

In passing by, he caught my eye - I tried to hide a blush,
but ambiance of innocence left fervour’s flames revealed.
His gaze (defined by eyes that shined) beheld my cheek a’ flush.
I bowed my head while caution fled, I felt my fate was sealed
- a bird in spring with fledgling wing - he’d snared a  falling thrush.

He said ‘Hello’ - I answered ‘No’ and yet before he’d gone
said I, ‘I’ll wait at Heaven’s Gate not far beyond the Pale’.
At dusk he came neath moon aflame, and left before the dawn
just humming tunes between the dunes that lined the sandy trail
beside a pond where morning yawned, where swam an ebon swan.

We met again, and once again, and once again, again
entangled in a love called sin, in whirls of make-believe.
While in my arms, with voice that charms, said he ‘I must explain -
the tide awaits in distant straits and I must take my leave’.
Then tempests stormed as passions swarmed through ardor’s hurricane.

‘Forsake your home and we may roam’ he smiled as if to tease
and still naive, said I ‘I’ll leave, in silver buckled shoes’.
He took the helm in search of realms, and quickly quit the quays -
with tearful eyes, I bade goodbyes to fare-thee-well adieus
and sailed above a wave of love across the seven seas.

We swept one morn around Cape Thorne while bound for Bullion Bay.
With naught to reck, I strolled on deck, a baby at my breast,
while flurries blew and seagulls flew within the ocean’s spray.
Our ship soon moored, we went ashore and off to Fortune’s Quest -
with gold doubloons which shone like moons, he gambled through the day.

‘The deuce is wild’ he thinly smiled; another card was drawn -
he’d staked and raised with eyes half glazed, was dealt a dismal three.
With betting tight throughout the night, the final ace long gone,
meant all was lost, at what a cost; alas, the prize was me.
To my dismay he slunk away and left me doomed at dawn.

A buccaneer with ring in ear sneered ‘now, my dear, you’re mine’.
He held my wrists to thwart my fists and then... my honor stained.
On sullied swash, the sky awash with bitter tears of brine,
I broke his clutch with nothing much of me that still remained:
a residue when he was through, left clinging to a vine.

In morning dew, the good folk knew, and spurned me in my plight.
The preacher man pronounced a ban and wouldn’t condescend,
ignored my pleas on bended knees and prayers by candlelight.
While cast aside, my baby died... my world was at an end.
Until this day, I’ve made my way beneath the shades of night.


                        AT HEAVEN’S GATES

To set Her free from destiny was far from my design,
but, though unplanned, I touched Her hand to give Her peace of mind.
She told me then, and then again, that providence Divine
had cast a curse, and even worse: despised by all mankind,
She walked alone, unseen, unknown, Her soul incarnadine.

To break this spell of living hell, of loneliness enshrined,
and end Her days within the haze, a sole redeeming deed
would give reprieve and maybe leave our destinies entwined -
Her final quest be put to rest if only I agreed,
but no surcease nor perfect peace nor hope if I declined.

The shadows, shawled in silence, crawled, the night Her fate was sealed
as vespers tolled across the wold beneath the muted fog.
The heavens cracked and sorrow slacked as chimes of children pealed
while in the hills (where midnight chills) there wailed a daemon dog -
with no delay I lead the way, the path to Potter’s Field.

Her weathered face was lined with Grace, Her eyes shone emerald green.
With me as guide She stepped inside to grieve and mourn Her loss,
and thereupon, though pale and wan, the night took on a sheen.
With weary eyes as Her disguise, She placed a wooden cross
upon a mound (unhallowed ground) and whispered ‘Sibylline...’.

A falling star flared in the far and burst, a bolide flame -
beneath the light, the Final Rite no longer hid undone.
And kneeling there in silent prayer, we seemed to share the shame
but could atone if left alone, forevermore as one.
Before we both could breathe an oath, I asked Her once Her name.

Through lips, pale red, She simply said ‘Some called me Abigail’,
and neath a birch where white doves perch, I took Her for my bride,
beheld Her smile a little while, but all to no avail...
Her cloak and cape, and shrivelled shape lie empty at my side...
for now She waits at Heaven’s Gates, not far beyond the Pale.
Water lilies arise from the tears behind her smile.

Irises grow hopeful beneath the sultry shadows of her hips.

Carnations incarnate a sensual silence in the arches of her eyebrows.

Orchids open like the mouth of a volcano spewing magma from her navel.

Peonies shake with pleasure as they penetrate her, first one petal then another.

Chrysanthemums cherish their freedom as they make music rise from her fingers.

Freesias drip with honey as she speaks rubies from her lips.

Gladioluses glisten as they trek along the pinnacles and peaks of her *******..

Violets yield plentiful fields along the pathways of her lungs.

Gardenias open gentle windows in the fragrant hollows of her spine.

Jasmines dance and dive into the warm reflecting pools of her eyes.

Roses rush like lovers along the riverbanks upon her sides.

Daffodils fill the devil's hills that ***** between her thighs.

Tulips glide and undulate like dolphins swimming in her blood.

Sunflowers swirl in the colorful worlds above and below her mind.

Daisies wait in delicate grace for the light to dance upon her face.

Hyacinths reveal the heat and shields that have been covering her heart of late.

Astors cast off their tasteful robes to reveal the beauty of her grace.
Mary-Eliz Jan 30
There's a song...
a piece of music
I wish you could hear

when I hear it
a couple appears in my mind

they move lightly
step forward
back
forward
smooth
two as one

the music
flavor of Latin
sultry guitar
dulcet violin
breathy flute
suffuses their bodies
tawny velvet skin
ignited in a warm glow

hands raised
palms touching
crossover steps
bodies syncopated
perfectly in time
perfectly in step
perfectly together

turn
turn

his hands on her
slender waist
move softly
in rhythm
with the easy swaying
of her hips

her silky dress
floats and ripples
a scarlet river
shining under fluorescent "stars"

their gaze steady
into each others' rich
mahogany eyes
until she is twirled
back to his chest

hands still on her waist
his lips tenderly brush her neck
he takes her hand
she turns
into him again

in that moment
no one
nothing else exists
only the music
and their fiery zeal
""Ak Verlang Na Ju" is a song in Africaans. It means "I'm longing for you." recorded by Wouter Kellerman. the CD "Love Language". The song is by Sonja Herholdt.
Mark Aug 2018
Conversing lover's tongue - I may neglect
to discourse plainly love, beheld and true
as noted oft; when sultry day's effect
and wine that doused your play could not outdo.

Bereft none, ardent lust transcends accent
if measure need be - time my other speech;
the pash upon your jewel I've descent,
until in tone you've pled for deeper breach.

If still unwise - let know I've curbed cascades
tho' early tidal swells have raised herein
it's flow are liquid signs that love pervades!
That then have gushed to honor you therein.

So swim my words of love within your womb
and find that home, so say my love in bloom.
Sharon Talbot Aug 2018
The frost is still there,
Throttling the rhododendron leaf,
And ice stalls the dissolve
Of the stone-like snow,
Yet I am happy.

The sun-rays are almost Etruscan,
Filtered low through lace and blind,
Like that ***** of sunset on Irene’s hair
Sad “couleur de feuille-morte”.
Yet it is sultry.

I can open a window
And breathe the warming air
Finches flock close, careless,
Now desperate for food
And pluck menescent fruit
Off an ice-bound branch.
In the distance, a cardinal sings.

Thick drapes are drawn aside
And geraniums strain toward the light.
In a nook outside the door,
An old cat basks on a corner of sun.
He yawns, seeing me, and strolls across the snow.

All nature seems to wait, but poised,
For the final unfettered token.
Will it be a sudden, favonian breeze?
Or the robin’s unrelenting noise?
Telling us, “Winter is broken”?
This is pretty obvious: it was one of those days in winter which seem so close to spring.
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