"supplementary" poems
Love trusts, lust twists
Love rains, lust drains
Love reaches, lust catches
Love couples, lust combines
Love retains, lust detains
Love relies, lust relays
Love cares, lust caresses
Love binds, lust blinds
Love floats, lust flees
Love belongs, lust longs
Love ascends, lust descends
Love fames, lust defames
Love creates, lust recreates
Love commands, lust demands
Love chooses, lust chases
Love boosts, lust boasts
Love at heart
Lust in mind
Love in lust is good
Lust in love is better
Love likes privacy
Lust looks for piracy
Love opens lust
Lust closes love
Love is slow, lust is fast
Love is steady and stable
Lust is mobile and fragile
Love is reliable, lust is liable
Love is long, lust is short
Love is homogeneous
Lust is heterogeneous
Love is defensive
Lust is offensive
Love is precious
Lust is pernicious
Love is supportive
Lust is supplementary
Love is refined
Lust is defined
Love betters life
Lust batters it.
Love has character
Lust has conduct
Love wins over
Lust weans out
Love combines
Lust divides
Love is cool
Lust is crazy
Love is peaceful
Lust is pleasant
Love is wholesome
Lust is piecemeal
Lust comes first
Love becomes best
Love is progressive
Lust is aggressive
Lust laminates
Love illuminates
Love is slow n steady
Lust is hasty n nasty
Love is dense, lust is tense
Lust is conditioned,
Love is air-conditioned
Lust is lovely to begin with
Love is lustrous to end up
Love heals, lust wounds
Love owns, lust disowns
Love is onus, lust is onerous
Love is basic, lust is allowance
Love conforms, lust confuses
Love binds, lust blinds
Be aware of love
Beware of lust
That comes like
wolf in sheep’s clothing
Let the fair blend
of love and lust
rule the roost
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Stuffed seals.
Sits shelf,
soaking sunshine,
standing sentry,
soliciting smiles.
Shoppers smitten,
strike smiles,
spending silver.
Storied seals,
send shoppers shrilling.
Somewhere,
seamstresses
stitch supplementary shipments,
shaking store,
sustaining sales.
Sales staff splendidly stock shelf.
Seamlessly.
Such salvation, seals seeks.
Successfully, seashells.
Logan Robertson
8/1/2018
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
she's a jumping bean,
bouncing off walls,
breaking in her velvet muscles.
a princess crown encompasses her cranium,
eyelashes like butterfly wings,
fluttering in a breeze.
wearing tic-tacs for teeth,
a smile designed by blind men's hands,
construction of a masterpiece.
eyes aglow with eagerness,
bleeding aquamarine,
flooding my pupils with luminosity.
giggles like dandelion seedtips,
a supplementary appendage,
attached to my forearm.
she blankets me in gentle bear hugs,
curling around like pink yarn,
frayed at the edges.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 3:16 PM UTC
give me the pleasure of knowing
that i can please you in ways that not even you can
i want to detain your innermost secrets
i want to become more familiar with your body than you are
tell me your favorite fingers
let’s discover your favorite toy
i want to know which spot makes you shiver
i want to know which spot makes you moan
i want to know exactly what type of stroke makes you shake
i want to know which spot makes
your eyes
your hips
your head
roll
so that i know precisely when to roll you over
and vivaciously assault you from behind
while i croak romantic entities
and watch them travel down the notches of your spine
and wrap themselves around your earlobes
and curl their exclamatory hands around your throat
and reach around your body
and diligently massage your ****
while the planes of your forearms give out
due to the weariness of supporting not only your body
but also the head on your shoulders
whirring with the fact that this moment is almost
too large for you
just like the member pumping
in and out of you is
and just like that member
these moments were at first
difficult to swallow
let me stop
and take a moment to admire the way sweat
gives your curves a flattering spotlight
and provides the candles in the room more reason to
applaud and reach their crowns in the air
almost as if to detach themselves from
their own wax and join us
in order to extinguish
the fire deep within themselves
by allowing me to drown them in their own juices
just as you have
i want to admire the way sheets of sweat
glaze your skin
in the same way your juices glaze
your opening
let me enter you
as you pucker your mouth
bite your lip
and beg for more
i want to know exactly what makes you
denounce me to the dirtiest of things
give me a title only worn by those wearing sweat
and exhalations
scream my name
pull those eyebrows together
and spread those legs further apart
and let the part of me
that isn’t me
(but is me)
deeper inside of you
let me carry you to ******
afterwards i'll lean down and bury my mouth
between your legs
and taste what meal your supplementary pair of lips
have prepared for me
i want to digest my libidinous progress
and mount this triumph in my heart
as the first of many
powerfully lecherous
conquered temptations
k.n
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, inspiration: favorite book---Invisible Life In A Miserable Age version two :>
Henry
met her at the library
rasped the portrait in ancient poetry
booked her love in print of coffee calligraphy
vanished curses of September from the entire history
remembered eyes bared and fell at feet so complementary
one-eighty degrees the fine line supplementary
deviled angelic
marveled hurdled
seven freckles and stashed in memory
celebrates venus and mercury
-----ravenfeels
Jul 3, 2021
Jul 3, 2021 at 6:00 AM UTC
**** em.
Claustrophobic nightmares
Chiropractic disasters
Supplementary salvation-
From Salvation-
pillows and blankets
Strangers are wed
finitely
Elbow-room is
as precious as gold
a needle in a haystack
A waiting room
for greater adventures in store.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
Here are three hundred and seventy-one letters
write gibberish aimed at me.
We can warm up with haughty language,
cumulus white skies that brim with rudimentary quarrels,
as we watch an apprehensive apprentice appreciating an amateur.
Perhaps a devils activist entertaining a lawyer,
might spin supplementary lie- swathed webs,
Appeasing an imaginary stranger that whispers at night.
Liberate the unsheltered side,
In merely ten lines.
May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
Along the valleys of Llandegfan
Fluorescent lavish she glimmers
Battling arousal unyielding I strain
As the sweltering blood simmers
Fervid quivering she assigns
Peaking atop the apex of my spine
With each stroke swift I succumb
For this moment forever I've pined
Forgive my heightening appetite
Supplementary to my avid lust
Quite the unbearable sensation
Equally as hazardous to trust
In vivid colours may we flaunt
Fornicate to lecherous taunts
© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 7:15 AM UTC
They were once meaningless
I write and in one, two and three
The transgression made its way to you
They became lyrics,
My hymn towards you.
Eradicating you made me at ease
Til lines intersect
There was no division
The strategy became a multiplication
Where the factors were lost as digits
There’re no emotions at all.
We were destined
To know the factors
To solve the x and y
Then, sections were subdivided.
I was in y, you were in x
As if we’re in supplementary angles
Why’re we apart?
Can two junctions be aligned?
The triangle was secluded
With the main angle,
The base, the height
The hypothenuse uploaded the main formula.
Never will I resolve this
For formula was never been taught
As if I’m doing such trials and errors
Til I get tired
And be drowned by head and heartaches.
The compass would never shape you
The ellipse would not offer you mass
There were no vectors at all,
Now, its just the dot
The single one which may point me
Towards the possible focus of such lines.
(2/23/14 @xirlleelang)
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
You,
fall through my fingers like rain.
mixed with the residue of some delusional things that we can’t help but
feel.
because inside we’re just children, really excited about going to the
movies downtown (on cheap Tuesday!), 7-dollar tickets clutched in our fingers,
like your fingers clutched in mine.
I lean against you, you lean against me, and it’s just the way that we lean,
the angles are complementary. or was it supplementary?
I don’t think this is love.
but it sure feels like Splenda instead of real sugar.
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 11:45 AM UTC
Who understand me more than myself?
Exactly!!
That's why I never look around for help
Love been scarce every since I was whelped
Into this world when no one cares if you whelm your resistance
Here, there's no value of tradition
No nature of culture
Just individuals
Lack of spirituality
So many different religions, but no one speaks to humankind
...Just their own kind
If it doesn't matter to them they don't mind
If you don't see it how they visualize, then you must be blind
Leave it up to them, they wouldn't even want the rest of us to synchronize
The world run on the fact of us being divided
And it is the innocence in me and you that is being misguided
I was raised to be a menace
But The things I witnessed
Made me wanna change positions
Come to realize
That good intentions can conclude in your non-existence
But don't let me persuade you to resistance
Especially if you're not from the bottom of the hill
If you never had to deal
If you always had cooked meals
Always had crisp bills
To me all the things that seemed so surreal
But I still know how you feel
No one get a break
But coming from where I'm from
We were never fixed in the first place
Only thing free is negativity
Shaped to destruct the streets since elementary
Teachers weren't even supplementary
Everyone who surrounded me was drowning
And if we tried to sniff out a plan we were hounded
They never prevented crimes, they just enforced the law
So we got what we wanted, but we couldn't keep it
They allowed us to do our dirt, in order to sweep it
That's why I'm offended when America fear me
When all I did was play defense
I'm trying to put a end to this disastrous sequence
Someone told me I was too ridiculous
And that I needed to show lenience
I replied
That's the reason why our entire skin tone has been living with grievance
We just need all allegiance
We don't need no alliance
The hell with compliance
Amongst ourselves we must have reliance
Because without everyone's input we will never reach our triumph
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 6:47 PM UTC
You are a bird flying near.
A simple graze of my arm
a feather kept, a loss of fear.
And this is not temporary.
You are a parade.
Your trumpets, your drums
reinventing the copyrighted charade.
It's not a trick-it's rudimentary.
You are fresh squeezed lemonade.
When the sweat cannot be quelled,
you forge trees for shade.
But speaking of you is just supplementary.
You are the long drive back.
Every worm in the miles of dirt
can hear this counterattack-
especially those four days of January.
You are my trustworthy veins,
our frivolously necessary games,
and the smell of relentless rains.
These senses, put blunt yet gently,
manifest nothing less than your infinite trajectory.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
Find me the conditions conducive to life,
and I will be unable to find any fulfilled.
It is in our nature always
to want, mass, more, supplementary.
Without quench will be need.
Possibly more?
Will one brave; lonely and just, be enough?
Life only prolonging a barmy parody
until confronted with one of seven?
Found guilty on all accounts,
failing even, to screen their future.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 4:43 PM UTC
Well organized and tidy
Murals, collages, trophies, crafts
Feelings, emotions, blood, sweat, and tears all captured , saved and put on display
Studiedly I walk station to station in amazement
Recalling and recollecting, but hesitant to reminisce on the bliss and carefulness that's swept and swift
Taken out of humanity to share, and placed into a strategy for only eyes to stare
So the only way that we can become engaged is on field trips or when we vacate?
Hands off the glass , and please no pictures sir!!!
Is the blockade
Well may I at least purchase a souvenir?
But I Thought love didn't cost a thing?
I also thought love was suppose to be balled into my heart , not placed onto the wall for art.
This museum has artifacts that date back; way back , prior to the common era in fact
Love was used all over the world, evidently it didn't discriminate , but it separate ones from others, sometimes it hesitates because of it's density , because if no reciprocity then the love become logically lessened
Love taught a lot of lessons , and raised a lot of personal questions
Hearteologists seems to have it all figured out
They say centuries ago love evolved with a color , a shape, a phrase , and a holiday.
An image
More so an image and no longer a feeling
The image that allowed Hearteologists to dig up, find and study any evidence , empires, households... the culture of love
The past half of a century the television developed and became everything except supplementary
So as viewers look at the screen they witness love as only being inside the characters jeans
When really love is hereditary, a trait that we all carry in our genes from the first beings
Now to be placed on the wall, behind plexiglass
Only to be put into perspective from 10am. until 6pm.
Mondays through Saturdays
As for the human race
You, I and true love can never link
Love is in a museum because love is extinct
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
i feel so alive
so caught up in the moment
i forget how to try
it's all just genuine
it's all amazing
for now
before i go back home
before i leave
before i realize i have nowhere
i can truly call my own
i'm so caught up in the drugs i forget
i'm just alone in the world
it's all about now
its all about escaping all the things that i've been through
i forget how to live
without the vicodin
mixed with ***** and ***
i forget how to live without supplementary help
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
lowering myself onto you
passionate; raw lust
sliding down, cork and corkscrew
your lips, deep ******
silence breaks with a mourning dove
pure pleasure
no longer disguised- undeniable love
supplementary leisure
your tongue dances on me
listening to the music i make
everything you do with sensuality
to heal the heartbreak
then its 3am and im filled with you
resting my head on your chest
the sky is a paler blue
our love; now professed
and now i look at our star
and think about last night, in the backseat of your car.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Supplementary beauty, outside of
what we call our home, inside of
what we call our working space.
We can't stay here forever, it pays
to travel, it works out to change,
it helps to work and improve our ways.
Talents, oddities, special equipment,
all additions to the perfect creatures,
imperfect perfection is so perfect.
So if you ever find a mark in your book,
or a number in your phone, a name in
the back of your head. Don't hesitate,
reconnect with that addition,
it just might have been an imperfect
perfection.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
The minister for vitamins
(Specifically D)
Climbed down from the cabinet
To make some mint tea
To give to the patients
With their hammocks for beds
And ginger-scented ointment
For their pain-filled heads
It was then he told me
(With a smirk on his face)
That he intended to win
The next supplementary debate
With a brand-new policy
For the short and long run
That would revolutionise the industry!
Cod liver oil! For everyone!
"Of course," he whispered
"It's not a sure thing,"
"That B12 **** has got funding,"
"Supporters in Beijing!"
But still, he was confident
That his plan would suffice
After all, his mint tea and ointment
Did smell very nice.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
Vulnerability hasn’t been indicated but distinguished,
Identification and acknowledgment advance readily,
Euphoria with an impregnable enchantment escorted,
Ambiguity as the outlet for this unceasing exuberance.
Breath taken by promising intimacy,
Enthused for supplementary fondness,
Conscious accord in this unknowing amalgamation,
Harmony as last continuance.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
Poets speak in spills of sarcasm and satire
Soul searing and smooth saying sentences salvaged from their sins
Stop starting signs and sigh soaked sincerities seep from their seething seams
Soap suds sit in their mouths while supplying
supplementary information seemingly from a somber soul
sought after by so few socialites
Poets speak solely from the soul, as no other place would suit their words a safer home
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
One in the morning and I'm wishing upon the whistle of a passenger train that you were here with me.
Counting down the days until I am able to see you again.
I want to say I have never felt this way.
Standing in the shower, water running down my face.
You and I are more than just two frames.
We are supplementary.
You are not just a soul case.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
I am a qualified post-graduate engineering degree holder from NDRI Karnal now and I am trying to complete a PhD program. I completed my Bachelor of Technology degree in Biotechnology from MDU in spite of a terrible road accident that imposed a partial physically challenged state on my life. I already wrote one inspired by my life till the 4th semester of my B.Tech degree and imagining the extreme consequences of the unfortunate caste-based (instead of the only economic criterion) reservation fiasco which are about to take place now.
I am guilty of wasting my precious time in the untimely search for love. I wrote about it in a creative form.
It also has some situational poetry in English and Hindi apart from few dialogues in languages other than English.
You will be surprised to know how accurately I predicted the fuel crisis and the protagonist named Akshant Kautilya Sharma does his research towards developing better supplementary fuel to help the economy.
Akshant’s search for love ends in a girl who loves him since their childhood days.
Akshant Kautilya Sharma teams up with an unlikely ally to defeat the hijack attempt by the currently only-fictitious anti-caste based reservation system terrorist organisation named Shuddh Rakt.
Amazon.com: 7 Seconds: A Typical Guy, Atypical Life eBook: Atul Kaushal: Kindle Store
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 9:31 PM UTC
Nothing scares me the most,like my death day
The fact that it's unknown
Makes me wonder if I'm qualified to go to Heaven
I know the requirements
But out of my 7300 days of being alive,I would be lying to myself if I say I've met the requirements
I pray that God offers me a supplementary examination and have mercy on me
To get my pass through the gates of Heaven
Because surely the repercussion of my actions got the Angel of death doubting my existence
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC