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Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With a rush of burning desires,
I turn your world, as I touch you, into a ball of fire,

With our sweat that falls (in this room of degrees creeping higher and higher)
I slip off your bra, and proceed to ***** you from the rest of your attire,

As with a look in your eyes that's electric as a live wire,
The grip of my hands around the curves of your frame become tighter and tighter,

And there, with thuds of the baseboard knocking at the wall, here, I treat this moment ever so dire,

Where I pull you in close--in this room full of yearning fire,

And make love to you--
With my body full of rushing--burning desires
Ashley Chapman Sep 2017
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display,
Encased in vats of plastic,
                          
                            we
Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play.

Mindless,
         In the soup of silicone,
                            
                            all
Myt­h-makers,
         Pouring over electro-spawned
         networks,
                            
                            fall
Workers,
          In the buzz of bits and bytes, of
          megabytes and terabytes,
                            
                            down
Everyone
          Far from the wood, the brine, the
          mud that caked us,
          In tighter and tighter
          digitised  projections,
                            
                            click!
‘Like me’,
‘Share me’,
‘Leave your comments.’

Messages smoothed out in polymers,
Beyond reproductions of ourselves,

                           enter:

Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious,

Now a waking voice,
          Hardened, digitised, recorded in
          bubbles, in drives, in clouds:
                        
Numb numbers of numbers numb,
                          mirror.

          A platform slotted home:
The motherboard!
          To record the echo in the hollow
          of our Being.
Wrote this a while back. It was published in The Tunnel Magazine, which was great. Anyway, hope it gets a wider audience.
Left Foot Poet May 2015
for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting
disillusionment


dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original
deceiver

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be
deferred

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015
may 2015, back when I could write...
kevin hamilton Jun 2018
i woke up next to fire
and the fountainhead
callous boy
seduced by distended memories
of moonlight's tresses
pooled in syrupy puddles
like spoiled milk

i woke up on west queen west
wild witch kissing me
and ever tighter
grew her spider fingers
around my throat

i swore if she was killing me
she would surely know
Hadiy Syakir Oct 2017
Kudos to Kaepernick.

I just cannot drown all my beliefs and ideas, even if it contradicts my flesh and soul. When I heard that not standing up to the tune; that has always succeeded on sweeping all of the messes underneath the sad reality, to be deemed as subversive, I know that Rosa would definitely clench onto the seat tighter than ever.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To drag our body out there, all over the precious hills and fields, while acting as if the scale has always been set fairly beneath you all this time, will hurt you more than myself. How can a mere matter of things decide our future, our destiny? We shall shape our fate, you shall shape your own fate, and to be judged on the perception biasedly built in the name of order for thousands of years, is a situation that should not be endured by anyone or anything in a tiny dot within this vast universe.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

And for that, I cannot stand proudly and profess my love to you as of now, even though I will always wear my heart on my sleeve for you to see. To be cheated, to be manipulated, to be deemed as surplus, by those at the tip of the plateau, that cunningly asked us to forget all the tangles and wrangles for the love of this sacred land, while unashamedly distribute everything off the land, off the ocean amongst them, is the last thing that we should allow to happen. I am one of those that can't simply put on the mask on top of our meant-to-be honest faces, to say hail to the thief is worse than the eternal grief. I have never dreamed of burying the hatchet with them, not even for a second and if I ever do it, I shall be condemned and dismissed for forgetting the roots, the fons et origo of mine. To love you does not mean to stand still to the soulless melodies, to love you doesn't mean to bow down to the meaningless piece of cloth that has overseen countless infiltration and bombing over the years.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To love you is to fight for the rights of many, by any means, even by not standing up. When black is no longer the symbol of miserable, filth and calamity, we shall then breath with ease, stand on our feet and fully embrace the real meaning behind all those majestic words.

Kudos to Kaepernick.
September Roses Nov 2018
What harm could it do?
To play around one's breathe
To grip something tightly
An innocent gesture

Passion so involved
It's just a spur of emotions
A moment of breathlessness
What's wrong with cutting off some air?
People are poisonous anyways
***** and sick
You're just polishing
Taking them somewhere brighter for a moment
No?

Can you feel their veins
Can you feel their pulse
Hear them cough,
Is it really that bad?
Tighter and tighter till the knot is tied
Feel air struggle in their throat

Something might sizzle inside you
Now dont be alarmed
The adrenalin of life flowing under your palms can be overwhelming.
It's only normal
To feel excitement
At their strained
Heavy
Breathing

Isnt it almost like a melody
The raspy struggles?
Notice the resistence of the gasping
Clench your fingers
Weigh them down
Feel the life leave their lips
And the pressure leave their lungs
Let them choke
Almost satire, but not really? But satire? But not?
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration, Jane
passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world.
That's a new idea to her.
Gathering the neighborhood like family.
The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working
      around the edges,
humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet,
even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses.
Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass,
two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan.
News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically
carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army
not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness
as the Holy Roman Empire.

Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up
while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North
      America,
even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical.
Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter,
up from bootstraps message and my wife says he's probably Jewish.
No one wants to go there.
Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery
      was voluntary.
What is the carrying capacity of the planet? Two children
have replacement value. In China is it each couple or each adult that gets
one offspring? As life expectancy and standards rise,
family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities
surrounded by farms surrounded by forests.
The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics
play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,
      grasslands, space.

Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho
are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints:
lost lover, lost city.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Nassif Younes May 2016
She just smiled back
“I t-t-think you’re a-amazing”, I said
With an earthquake in my throat.

She blushed a little
“Y-you feel it too d-d-don't you?” I pled
She just smiled back
With both eyes glued to mine
“You’re p-perfect to me”, I gasped
Breathing a warm summer breeze
Against her ear.

She said nothing,  
Only smiled back
With a look that could only mean "yes".
“I love you”
My trembling stopped
As we melted into each other
And I held her tighter
And tighter -

She just smiled back
And then I hit the lights,
Putting the stolen photo
Back under the pillow.
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
In the morning, old becomes new
Birds sing as black slowly turns blue
In the morning, my fears are taken
My faith is stronger, I am not shaken

My fears are taken by morning's rebirth
Fresh as the dew clinging to my feet
In the morning, there is a new me to meet
Whom the blinding night has deemed fit to birth

In the morning, my flaws are still the same
Like the yellow sun, everyday like flame
In the morning, I remember yesterday's mistakes
And I know better what is at stake

In the morning, I let go of the night
I let go of the dark, I embrace the light
In the morning, my eyes are brighter
My dance is better, my laugh is lighter

My smile is warmer, my kiss is softer
My hug is tighter, my speech has no stutter
In the morning, I am all I want to be
Awake, refreshed, hopeful, free
janelflorendx Mar 2017
bury me with the shameful ashes of our past
drown me with your passionate kisses and whisper me that we'll last

take the one last innocent glance
before i drink the liquory glass

i'm on ceasefire
so ready to conspire
hold me tighter and
share me your drunkful desires
William Eberlein Feb 2013
You stick to my thoughts like an adhesive.
Ever wandering the canvas of my mind.
You travel at the speed of light,
through the nonexistent confines of oblivion.

Foreverness...
Without time, space or action.

The deeper I go,
to hide,
to get lost,
to be alone.
To think a thunking thought!
The closer you seem to be.
The tighter you cling to my chest.
Warming my heart and crushing my lungs.
You squeeze the words from my mouth,
without ever touching me.

The sun looses all essence of light and life when compared to you.
Like an ember among the black atoms of nothingness.

And if you were stripped of all that you are...
I could,
and would,
love you for this alone.

Yet, oh how I hate you for it.
Kate Sep 2010
Selena you *****

I had a dream last week ...

  ... and I woke up angry with you.


We were up at your cottage together
(yes I know you don't have a cottage),
   and so was Selena Gomez.

Turns out, she was your true love.
Turns out, you were calloused and cruel,
   superior beings, sadistic demigods.

She was more funny,
   and far prettier,
and better-dressed,
   and smarter.
And she wasn't sick,
   and she ****** better,
so I couldn't be mad at
   her.

   But you were all those things,
and it made me hate you.
   For seeing my tears
and not even caring enough to drink them.
   For hearing me scream
and not holding me tighter -- or at all.
   For changing the photos in the frames
because You Didn't Have To Hide It Anymore.

But you asked me to stick around
(not like you cared).

And I did.


... Not like you can get far from
cottage country without a car.
Cathyy Jan 2016
Will you dance with me forever,
Around in circles?
We'll stay young together..
Forget growing older
You'll still make my heart race
Whenever you walk by

Let's paint this city over
With colours of Autumn
Red orange yellow and gold
Leaves.. you feeling colder
I'll still hug you tighter,
Whenever you walk by

...As time moved on, so did you
There hasn't been a day where I don't miss you,
And now everything has changed
But darling I could kiss you,
I'll never let you go..
I just want you to know...

Would you dance with me forever?
If I could turn back time,
Would you want to stay young together
I'll paint you a brand new infinite sky,
Anything just to have you,
Happy, here in my life...
I'll write you the most romantic poem in the world,
Even if it can't change how I appear now, in your eyes..
Alex Hunter May 2015
Don’t go.
I blurted out through my cries,
gripping her hand tighter.

Think of trees,
she whispered, wiping the tears from my cheek
like leaves catching raindrops,
They’ll help you sleep.*

So I began to dream
with the help of the trees
and the breeze that brushed
ever so lightly through the leaves.

As she let go of my hand
and disappeared from my room,
I was no longer afraid
of the loneliness that loomed,

for the trees will always surround me.
Leigh Mar 2016
You are only lovely when I allow it:
When I let you out to trace the times
Your perfect puzzle-piece body
Sat home with mine;
Quiet hands on your chest
And on your stomach,
Breathing closer;
Holding tighter to muffle
The 'nails in skin'
Sort of **** that was
Held at a distance

You are only lovely when I allow it:
When I let you out to suffer the nights
You were left alone with my mood

You are only lovely when I allow it:
When I let you out to worry
As you hold together -
I sink into my crawl space
Pushing the rubble to the top

You are only lovely when I allow it:
When I let you out to relive and to relove
The way I should have
Andrew Kerklaan Jun 2018
Glass ticking like cold plastic

My fingers thrum hopelessly in the hopes of drumming up a solution to a problem with an issue of loss.

This dilemma has found me at the end of my rope and I fear the knots in my stomach are only getting tighter as I squeeze you closer to me now.

Why can't I help me?

I won't let you do it for me.

But must I force feed you the truth?

I'm not hungry for this day any more. Fighting this sickness, I choke back another spoonful of medicine...
--And what am I supposed to do now then?!

Frustration consumes me.
I am bile. The emptiness inside, that fills me with rot.

I'm hollow!!

Somebody save me from myself!   I want to self-destruct and not be okay anymore.

I want to fly a Subaru into the sun on fire.
I'm just so ******.

Just leave me behind and maybe I can decompose into something useful and that actually wants to be here and maybe after that I can finally float away from here...

Wouldn't that be okay?
Why should I have to stay.

I never belonged here any way.
Shane Leigh Nov 2018
A fine feat under darker skies when he left again in the mourning hours, and I woke again in the morning hours. Had I have held longer, tighter, I would have no poetics in steady stride. I find it is comfort that I fear in the deepest hours, alone and to myself, I dream – not often thinking. Dreams made real by gentlest touch of my thigh, my breast, my neck, my chin, then my cheek. He will not rest for I will not rest in the tint of a blood-orange sky following a dark deeper than the depths in the pit of one’s eye.

CRY!

Cry and I will bid away in silence at which you will no longer need to worry: not of the mourning hours, nor the morning hours. We will not be bothered any by the dark where I will no longer want a gentle touch for it will be cold like a chilled night in the palm of my hand; but this chill is not cold for I will have seduced you and I will be warmed again in the morning hours.
© Shane Leigh
Hello!
ENJOY (:
Robert G Page Aug 2013
By
rgpage

The cool evening breeze filled with a scent of approaching rain.
Caught by playful window shears
as it passes through an open pane, to reach their  
length and breadth toward the waiting bed.

He was a lover of music and his woman,
a passionate man with a sensitive heart.
She was in love with the melodic way  
his gentle fingers moved with sensual touch
over her soft silk like skin of art.

He started gently around her ears softly prying
them open with the quiet richness of her melodies.
Each note of his gentle kisses leading her to a sensual abyss,
easing her down from the edge, controlling her descent, to her goal.
Down the swirling dark and light blends of the music rendered from her soul.

She was his instrument on which he placed
his soft loving fingers, moving them effortlessly,
caressing her most sensual delicate keys…Each body part
smoothly rubbed added richness to her sensual sound driven by ****
and loving trust.  

Her ******* he fondled, licking and kissing, squeezing and rubbing.
Silently giving thanks, to her creator for such an amazing instrument.
Both of her hands with long slender fingers tangled in the long dark locks
of his hair as she eases her maestro’s head up tighter against her soft
beautiful mounds.

The loving melody continues with his touch now joined with the sound
of raindrops splashing into uncovered metal buckets and cans. The drops
carried on the breeze through the playful dancing shears came through the other end as nothing more than refreshing cooling mist.

Her body was his loving piano, and as with the 88 keys of his magnificent
Baldwin, the sensual areas of her equally magnificent body, when properly stroked,  filled not  only the bedroom but the whole house with the most glorious ****** notes known to man.  

After a while the symphonic ****** builds as he masterfully impales her with his instrument of love coming into constant contact with the one special key of keys. Its special sound as his strokes came harder and faster brought the whole master piece to a beautiful melodic end as the two lovers bath in the rain’s gentle mist…
Tommy Randell Apr 2017
A child on the beach today
Reached down and took hold
Of this Earth with one bare hand.

Squeezing tight he lifted the sand
Up to his curious eyes and watched it
Spilling out through his fingers.

The tighter he grasped it
The more certain it fell,
The more it fell the more curious he became.

Another handful, and another.
Each time more manic, each time more certain
This Earth was not to be held.

And then laughter and abandoned glee
Grabbing the sand and throwing it up
And watching it fall.

Beguiled by the physicality,
Empowered by the gaiety,
Of what a hand can do.

This Earth, so fragile a child can tear it apart.
This Earth, so beyond our grasp
It slips away the tighter we hold it.
Medusa May 2018
thinking all of those yearnings buried
walking about this planet securely wrapped
tighter and tighter and even more still
finally something broke

my red balloon floats free
letting in all kinds of
memory, imaginings,
cravings, and love

definitely love
love is there
right
yes,
oh
yes

right there
yes, there
oooohhh
yes, yes, yes

oh god yes,
please
Your beautiful smile;
I see it upon your face
whether its directed to me
or because of me-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!

When we're talking about nothing,
yet; everything is being said-
your thoughtfulness and caring
just pours out with every word-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!

Come on, , you know
you're already walking on broken eggshells
and running on blind fate-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!

One Step more to
taking your hand forever,
capturing your heart as mine,
I'm falling deeper in love
just One Step More-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tightened on my heart.
You've reeled me in
And I've completely
fallen in love with you
One Step More!

2007

COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
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