"surounding" poems
he once said to me...
*“I would blow warm
moist breath through
your toes...
I would do all the
wonderful things
to your big toes
that you do to me.
And most certainly
all the tension would
drain onto me...
I would draw
every last drop
from your toes
with little messages
along the way of my
charted course
to come up
your inner channels.
Resting in the sensitive eddies
behind your knees
we both breathe fire
wafting up and down
your thighs.”*
.... like drips of seduction off his tongue.
And he lingered on, saying...
*“Flaming lips wafting
together with desire,
reaching and pulling
with firey licks.
As I slide
my wet tongue
on up and hover,
breathing
you in
deeply...
through my nostrils
filling my *** senses.
Drunk on your fumes,
I'm consumed.
Circling the tip
of my nose
around
your hard,
pearly knot
feeling the heat
from your butterfly wings
my parted lips surounding
and easing the warmth
of my soul onto you
with wet hot breath.
And I ease the length
of my tongue to rest
completely over
your fire breathing wings ,
warm capable and ready..
leaving you in suspense.
Sliding ever so slightly
and slowly up your
slick silky lips,
tightening the tip
of my tongue -
flick flick
flick flick...
And I look deeply
into your eyes,
into depths
you've never known.
And then I'll take you
all in, with a suction
you'll never escape
or ever want to.
Never breaking eye contact
my tongue slides from bottom
and presses, emphasis
at the top slowly
over and over
settling you in.
We fall into
a oneness
and find
our groove.”*
And I said...
**
*“I wish I wasn't
still irritated with you
so I could fully
enjoy your seduction.”*
**
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
our children
are not
the only ones
to see a clown
and begin to run
some adults
have the fear
you ever wonder
why they lear
bright colored hair
and funny make up
not so funny
when you wake up
with ten or so
surounding you
trying to grab
and strangle you
how hard would you laugh
if in a dream
your mind it woke
the clown from "it"
began to choke
i'm sure you would not
find the joke
you see them
at the circus always
sometimes near
the fairground enterance
some have not the intention to scare
others try to instill the fear
animal balloons
and baggy clothes
they look more like the
boogyman
we pay them
for a birthday party
kids are screaming
and there crying
ever wonder why it's so
because the kids
they know
it shows
kids don't know this
but heres a fact
john wayne gacy
played the act
he was not funny
not one bit
but full of ugly
and very sick
weather they smile
or they frown
there will always be
a scary
clown
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
The people surounding me; in looks is where they are bloated with pride
Of this of course, I am so very sure, that upon wood I could knock
They have to walk the walk and be able to talk the talk
Not thinking much of, or giving a care on to what is inside
Well as for me, I have begun to learn my face
And I know for sure as well; that it is not a thing of grace (Nor will it ever be)
So I would rather work upon the parts of me
What is inside; That no one seems to really see
Some jesters will happen to say with a voice of stern
"Pray to the Lord she is ugly as sin,
And perhaps another will say in a kindly return;
"But luckily she has beauty deep within."
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
frosty skies show a dazzle in the darkness
freshly made air strikes as you breath
yet billows from nostrils like a madening bull
grass crunches under foot
a sound so familiar yet not understood
music of life surounding you
heartbeat of the world inside your soul
yet not in the blood
first steps on this earth
a wonderous love
a wonderous love
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC
Life is a series of events
sometimes we wander without a care
when life takes us down amongst the shadows
It'll soon take us right back up the winding stair
Embrace each new surounding
you shall never fail
in the grand scheme of life
each experience, will become a tale
Our lives are designed individually
there's a map inside each mind
If you want to find your treasure
It'll be right there to find...
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 5:15 AM UTC
I found a bone inside some blades of grass.
Could it be Ozymydias the poets dead king?
It must of been the knite who slayed his terror.
I was alone when his steel blade took my life.
Helplessly I heard the grave become my works.
The stone I read out loud around overgrown weeds
Soon opened up, and I tried to run away.
The yellow eyes like a demons eyes, met my face.
the darkness in his corpse began surounding every grave.
My breath was cold, my shaking body froze as if he had a gun.
Then he ozymydias began to yell at my dying soul.
"Im ozymydias, read my works, Forget me and I will return".
"Few contempoarys have spoken to me, they who remember me
have my mark".
My arm became a lake of flames.
His claws penetrated my skin.
On my arm I saw his name.
In me now is ozymydias
the poets dead king.
I took his bone and ranaway,
And at my house I threw it
In the fire place. I watched
it burn like a horrible book.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 4:03 AM UTC
My stranger-
you inspire me to write,
the way you walk, talk and cry,
invading my mind- day and night,
dreaming about the poised comply.
Let me compare you to a caring bay
fearful, splendid, and tired,
a shy breeze ***** the daring
dancers of May,
Now I must go with a staring heart,
your bright words surounding me
shining through while we're apart.
With dutiful hair, lips and eyes-
filling all that I would say,
my love for you is left-
only in the memories...
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 3:34 PM UTC