No house but a woman is the homemaker
she’s not done yet she’s universal.

Four walls can’t hold a woman inside
she is veiled but not tied!

The arch in her back hits the mark
above the pyramid above the sunup.
The light at the end of the tunnel here is love.

Her inner mystery is her paintbrush.
The colour on her canvas
is a far cry from the rainbow.

It doesn’t fade nor falls on the floor.
Keeping it up the time lingers on.
Every star from far and near
can see here a mirror at home!
SG Holter Feb 2016
For Helene.


Ashes on the water, now.
Love's bones like dust downstream.  
At least it got to see itself in our eyes,
Feel itself between hand holding hand

And whispered caresses.
From pillow talk to fists raised at
Concerts, glasses of Portuguese wine
On her balcony to the sound of magpies

We named our neighbours.
We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Ended gracefully.

I open hands that held hers and see
Nothing but skin worn by labour,
And air.
Ashes on the water, now.

Embers without a chance against rivers  
Cold with melted mountain snow and
Unyielding differences.
Some loves drown with lungs too full

To cry; others float like a funeral-pyre-
Longboat into the night, ablaze.
King and queen, hand upon hand.
Crowns tied from fresh flowers,

We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Slid apart the way a glacier parts from
The hills; slowly, but with the force

Of its thousands of tons.
Ashes on the water,
Where the ghost of our union rests
Underneath the surface of our memories.

I will remember you.
Until the stars burn out, raining the
Dust of themselves like snow upon
These waters that always are moving.
The midnight sun is heading north

These bags are packed with dreams
and the memories of who I’ve been;
To scatter forth like gathered seeds
on fallow hope,
strewn at the mercy of the winds

The genesis of spring unravels
the knotted darkness
Another winter’s aftermath
hidden back on the back shelf
The distance between back then
and now,  is widening
each  Dawn  to  Dusk

A  gust  of  sunlight
plashes ripples
across the still waters
of  depthless  peace

and,
my hands are no longer tied
behind  my  back
by winter's grasp

Seasons  oft  do  change
perennial  as  the  tides

But I don’t want to see
another ocean runaway;
I don’t want to know how
another fleeting moment
ends


Jesse Stillwater
7th  April  2018;   6 of 10
tempest Jul 2
i want to know somebody

know every detail of their life events
i want to blow the candles on their first birthday
lick the stamp on the first letter they sent

i want to share and be shared intimately

from my brown skin into my core
i want to wrap around his member and see his eyes ask mine for more

i want to nearly bleed to death

over how much I’m able to give
over how much I might withstand if it meant my love would live

because i think people are meant to be shared with one another, tied in an infinitesimal amount of ways; tumbling as one.
© tempest p
unnamed Jul 8
I wrote you out a letter
and I bet if it were to be measured
it'd reach right out and touch the heavens.
It spoke of sickness and pleaded forgiveness -
of riches and all the things that sat between us.  
I stamped you out a star, so you'd
never have to wander for the moon.
Sure it sounds silly when said out loud,
but inside there's nothing it can't soothe.
That's all I ever wanted for you.
You're more a goddess than any rocky body,
I should've told you sooner.
A mistake I'll regret forever.
I know there's no excuse.
I tied this noose and presented it like proof.
I say awful things to those who mean most
and keep quiet til they're distant down that road.
My words might not mean much,
but for me there's nothing more fitting than the truth.
I love you.
Cautiously, we're tied together, but that doesn't mean I'll be scared forever. With blotted thoughts you smeared my logic, blurred my memories and mixed them toxic. And honestly, I'm dying out, you smothered me with my own doubt. And as I drown, remember me, for all the things I couldn't be. Copycat, I'm losing here, and all you've done is uncover fear, you made me evil; illogical, and now I know you don't care at all. Do you make the desperate cries, logical to my demise? Involuntary refracts this soul, can you place back what you stole
from me?
--------------
This was originally gonna be a song, but nothing really fit too well and I liked it as a poem. All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!
zebra Jun 2017
come with me
to the murder motel
it could be so tender
as sexy as hell

we can kiss awhile
i'd lick you sweet
and then bend you over
and cut your feet

omg honey
you can't walk anymore
no matter darling
i'm a blood cunt whore

fuck me daddy
soon i'll be dead
i want it in the mouth
crush my head

not so soon
my sweet little floozy
first lose some blood
to get you all woozy

stand on the toilet
a rope around you neck
on tippy toes
you'll soon be a wreck

i'd love to shoot you
want it in the ass
in the intestine
the bullet will pass

ooow honey yes
let me spread wide
then shoot me through
is that how i died

no baby
that was just for fun
i cumed in your ass
my cock was the gun

oh kill me soon
you begged and you cried
i need it my love
so your hands i tied

i fucked you and fucked you
ready to cum
i yanked your head back
and you licked up my scum

are you ready sweet girl
you lifted your head
my cock in your ass
a dagger of dread

i slit your throat
ever so slow
you jerked and you shimmied
and the blood did flow

you got on top
your tits in my face
i drank from your throat
you bled out with grace

i loved you so
and called your name
you fell over dead
but who's to blame

oh my darling
you wanted to go
black emerald death
an orgasmic show

pretty dead girl
im still kissing you
but i have to leave
boo hoo hoo
A sick poem unfit for consumption
which is exactly why i had to write it
It's only for certain people
I'm sure
you know who you are
and yes i do love you <3
Nic Mac Mar 8
Waste,
is all effort denied.
It clasps you, at your base.
Shame, lives here,
Nothing. To erase.

Madness,
is to not find yourself,
once you've searched eternities.
Amongst the blades of grass,
where the blood fell.

Whether you walk,
Whether you run,
Whether your fingers will it so.
To be undone,
To lose,
To go.

You cannot outrun, what followed you here.
You've held the rope too tightly,
Don't blame the blunt knife.
For what you'd never sever.

Attempts,
are those of waste,
as the anxious heart, keeps it laced.
It knows your face, it made it.
Hurt,
is the pain you make it,
Dragged here. In this place. To shake it.
safe to do so,
to let it go,
now.
you are one.

Cut off this limb
            you
               never  
                  needed,
but had tied, to the soles of your feet.
By Nic Mac
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