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Dani Nov 2018
I crave
A touch
Not soft or gentle

I crave
A lust
So instrumental

I beg
For you
To grab me roughly

I beg
For you
To touch me toughly

I thirst
In need
For someone pressed against me

I thirst
In need
For Someone to hold me

I desire
To moan
Loudly with pleasure

I desire
To moan
Loudly - uncensored

I crave, I beg, I thirst, I desire a touch, a lust-loan.
You see, I am in dire need to moan.
A never ending thirst, a never fulfilled desire. A never ending craving for more.
midnight prague Oct 2010
ponder with me as I throw these diaries
filled with tales of ******* and burnt down cities
towards the direction of every ear
that had but a moment to listen to my plea
of how other lands hold the children of my sanity
of how in other lands I see decadent beauty
how I feel the gnawing tearing in me awfully

supernatural were the nights I imbedded in sultry
cringed smiles and listened to the forgein birdies
inhaled the fumes of gasoline and drowned in the glorifying sunny
wet my lips in salty water and enjoyed the stinging in my eyes
graced the cannabis valleys
and the meadows of sustenance and endless possibility

the waterfalls of magnificent hidden deep in the earth
behind the roses of my ancestors

speak to me my land
call on to me louder
hinder me away from this place
and manifest within in me your womanly power

seek me oh mother land
and cast me away from shattered lives
bring me back to you
and beg me todestroy this demise

I am toughly and sickly
at the same time

shower me with your graciousness
and devoutly banish my crime
I will wait for the thunder calling
and make excuses for this ****** place in the meantime
Maria Hale Feb 2012
Hips don't help
when I'm hightailing home
hurrying...

Times like these, I'd rather be asexual.

I see shadows slink-scurrying
slithering slyly
sneering...

I hate your ability to intimidate.

I want to turn toward and
take on your trash
toughly...

But there's five of you and one of me. And my hands are small.

No matter the mothering moralists
who match me to men
meaningfully...

I am a woman, and I am still afraid.

Self-defense can only go so far...
and my hips don't help.
almat011 Aug 2019
Hot brunette

Black eyes as black space, I plunge into endless love and true happiness, the stars of passion burn in them. Your eyes are capable of bewitching any man with their amazing beauty, their charms turn him into a puppet. A ****** secret immersed in an infinitely deep love, increasing your invaluable value in my life to infinity. More than anything else, I am afraid of losing you, my soul will die from this terrible pain of suffering. You are a living legend of the highest beauty, real, but mythically beautiful.

Your body is like a **** pattern, hot eroticism of temptation, you are perfect from any angle near and you have issued a silhouette of perfection, my mind raves about you at night, I fall asleep from passionate love and see you in my treasured ****** dreams, I'm frightening obsessed with your beauty and soul. So beautifully your wine spills over your **** body, exciting the amazing shine of your body, the heady beauty of sensual charm, your chosen one possesses eternal wealth, you are the most valuable thing in eternity and the universe itself, you are a dream that you can dream of forever even after death , you are much more expensive and more beautiful than any gemstone. Perfectly black long hair as if shining with black opal, lush lips like rose quartz, which will give a juicy, savory, hot, sultry, torrid kiss, I eagerly taste every kiss and in my eyes there are millions of sparks, billions of love sparks, we are among the stars of love, it’s super exciting and sincerely in love, dark-skinned skin, juicy caramel of priceless gold, nowhere is sweeter and sexier, elite beauty is like the representative of the highest races of all universes, tenderly sensually milky chocolate skin of a sultry brunette goddess of ***** secret dreams.

The voice is like a cute kitten, you are an infinitely cute cutie. All the most beautiful melodies and songs about you, all the most romantic is nostalgia about you. Your sweet moans of pleasure is my favourite music, which I want to listen to all my life, it’s brutally exciting and never bothers. I want an entire album and a huge playlist with your hot moans, I want to listen all days all my life, it’s the only thing that excites and never bothers that away turn off my brains. All my dreams are about you. Your body is so hot and beautiful, it’s just tin, your image powerfully falls in love, it toughly excites this simply bliss for my eyes. Beautiful well, just meow ... juicy. Infinitely powerful exciting, infinitely growing intensifying love and admiration, like endless, aggressive ******* of endless love *** without ******, so sexually exciting that you can just go crazy from love and lust, an unquenchable thirst to love and caress your body an infinite number of times, it’s hard to breathe and I seem lose consciousness from admiration.

You are the embodiment of my most sincere *****, ******, hot, ****** *** fantasies, desires, my new instinct called ****** love that I named after you, there is a tattoo with your name and your portraits on my soul. I'm fanatically sick of you. I lie and kiss your body with my eyes. You amaze me with your beauty to the very depths of your soul; my whole brain is amazed with you; you are my reality and eternal **** thought; everything except you melts like ice cream from your sultry hot sun, like the sun of beauty. You have a divinely sweet skin color, you are more appetizing than any dishes in the world, I cry with love and admiration, I am ultra powerfully in love with you to look at you as it is ****** pleasure in itself - this is an amazing magic of seduction in your eyes excites a powerful hunger for *** - this is an eternal call to your flesh. ******* mega harsh excitement makes *****, brutal passion, animal lust, mixed with sincere love.

You amaze me with your beauty to the very depths of your soul, my whole mind is amazed by you, your body is very beautiful ****, you can write an infinite number of love poems and prose, you are an inexhaustible waterfall of love, ****** inspiration. My heart eloquently poeticizes your sultry, divine image. My mind prays that you will be mine literally every day. Each room has an altar to worship every part of your hot **** body. *** with you is the ultimate bliss.

It’s so eternally beautiful, infinitely beautiful and immensely **** that it crosses all borders. Unbearably exciting right up to a pleasant pain in my soul, thoughts, heart, I start to moan and utter your name with pleasure, oh yeah baby, oh yeeaaah, **** how ****, sooo hooot, you are an ultra powerful *** machine of excitement makes powerfully *****, I am programmed for eternal love for you, my the psyche has totally switched to you. Of all the desires of all lives, I choose only you. Your appearance is your ego fly away.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Ryan Joseph Aug 2018
In the cold days of nights,
Thinking of some things that are perhaps right,
But I don't know if I should have to fight,
Just to make things fine and right.

Placidly and deeply,
Thinking things toughly,
That there's even between you and me,
Even though you're not in love with me.

Fragments beneath of our destiny and love,
Had never decided deftly,
And never been shoved,
Because of my absurdity.

Nevertheless, what's the point,
If we're even not meant to be,
And never been destined,
Because I was way too frightened.

Frightened but I had fought enough,
Just to make my love to you tough,
Although, my intimacy to you was just a waste,
And never been meant to be praised.
Also, it has never decided.
PS : nvm about bla bla
Liz Delgado Sep 2015
I saw resentment clearly.
He was harsh and tense, filled with battle scars.
He turned and took hefty, angry steps in my brain.
I saw his balled fists, his toughly furrowed eyebrows,
and all hell broken lose, a war of rage inside his eyes.
I heard him breathe heavily,
and I felt so bitter.
rest of title...Parkland, Fla.,February 14, 2018

One more senseless mass homicide
   twas the sole arbitrary aim
as a former student nonchalantly
   sauntered empty hallways
   seconds preceding blame
brazenly intent to maximize total killed

   matter of factly telling police
   (his incomprehensible)
   (ill) logic he did explain
when cornered, he willingly,
   unflinchingly, reticently admitted guilt

Nikolas Cruz rocketed
   to instantaneous infamous fame
   pulling a fire alarm
   ("FAKE") emergency,

   then going leisurely ambling
   along his killing spree
total of seventeen slain (comprising 3 faculty
   and 14 students)
   mercilessly gunned down
   as if they were wild game

when handcuffed, an innocuous
   19 year old did readily admit
emptying one firearm after another
   at a fairly rapid clip

then at some predestined
   or spurious moment didst dip
and dive out amidst
   the chaotic madding crowd
   before reality flopped then did flip
as lower teeth he nervously bit upper lip

made feeble getaway
   at a nearby eatery casually flirted
   with cashier and made no move to flit
upon his seizure as cornered prey

   subsequently large tract
   massively cordoned off
   strong arm of the law
slightly halting in speech
   detailed his gambit

deliberately staking
   a stance to maximize hit
and once again afflicted parents lit
up with rancor and rage pit

toughly battling sorrow
   which will not quit
til death doth bring peaceful rest
   sans, those grieving family visit.
Kanishk Kandoi Jun 2020
It all just started with different race of black
All the bad ideas were just stacked in a sack

They strived for their rights until they got the light
They tried to have the freedom without even having to fight

But then the other people started treated them roughly
They had to come on streets and fight for them toughly

After all the fights and struggles they got to live the life they wished
Now that all has happened the older days are missed
A poem for the good days to come and racism to end
Amelia Robin Jan 2017
Rivers are flowing within.
Swollen tip has been toughly aching,
Numbness seems to be dominating
Yet continuously finding the headwaters of river,
Running through, flowing permeably.

Grasping as it wonders when it will be truly found,
Crying out heart’s true deepest desires. Trudging up a steep trail,
Freudian slips as tongue’s weeping,
On other hand, thrusting the tip of one’s iceberg.

Apparently consumed over its power
But giving such soothing impalpable warmth of a lover.
Lying on seabed of embers,
Head over heels, asking:
Am I wandering in a milky dream again
Or is it just the caffeine that rushes through me at the moment?
Parkland, Fla. February 14, 2018

One more senseless mass homicide
   twas the sole arbitrary aim
as a former student nonchalantly
   sauntered empty hallways
   seconds preceding blame
brazenly intent to maximize total killed

   matter of factly telling police
   (his incomprehensible)
   (ill) logic he did explain
when cornered, he willingly,
   unflinchingly, reticently admitted guilt

Nikolas Cruz rocketed
   to instantaneous infamous fame
   pulling a fire alarm
   ("FAKE") emergency,

   then going leisurely ambling
   along his killing spree
total of seventeen slain (comprising 3 faculty
   and 14 students)
   mercilessly gunned down
   as if they were wild game

when handcuffed, an innocuous
   19 year old did readily admit
emptying one firearm after another
   at a fairly rapid clip

then at some predestined
   or spurious moment didst dip
and dive out amidst
   the chaotic madding crowd
   before reality flopped then did flip
as lower teeth nervously bit upper lip

made feeble getaway
   at a nearby eatery casually flirted
   with cashier and made no move to flit
upon his seizure as cornered prey

   subsequently large tract
   massively cordoned off
   strong arm of the law
slightly halting in speech
   detailed his gambit

deliberately staking
   a stance to maximize hit
and once again afflicted parents lit
up with rancor and rage pit

toughly battling sorrow
   which will not quit
til death doth
   those grieving family visit.
neth jones Oct 2016
A thoughtless thought ;
a power-naught
a thought not taught
yet
still
a thought ;
toughly bred
and thorough wrought
Lora Lee Oct 2015
She met him on the kingsroad
At the early hours of dawn
She noticed he was of noble birth
By his gait and dress,
graceful
As a swan
There was something of an air of mystery
A silent force
That drew him to her
But she didn’t want to attract such attention
From a stranger,
Who barely knew her.

Yet she was bold and found her voice
Decided to raise it to the sun
And gathering courage,
Made her choice
Whatever consequences would then come
"Excuse me, Sire,"
She managed to breathe
And by then it was too late
For he turned around,
The look in his eye was warm and sincere
And she could barely feel her feet.
"Is this the right way to the City
of Dreams?"
She queried, toughly,
For she knew he would bring no harm
And then when he faced her
She took a step back
Not expecting such honest charm

"Yes, indeed" he smiled kindly.
"If I may ask, without further ado..
Why on earth are you walking alone,
A lovely, sweet rose like you?"
She knew what he meant
For it was rough out there
With those who wish
To only take advantage.
With prying eyes
And prying hands.
Preying on those
Who cannot always manage
She knew she could easily
have her purse and legs
Opened by force
by strangers
Theirs was a lawless land
Where values were rare…
One was prone
To many dangers.

"I am stronger than I look, you know"
She aimed her wordly arrow
And struck
"Oh, yes, a feisty one you are,"
Came the retort
His eyes full of humor and *****

"Is this the way to the City of Dreams, or not?"
She asked with spice, yet saw a look so sweet
She imagined him tender, like a flower
As her heart lurched and skipped a beat
"It is, indeed, and apparently
I have found the best way to go.
But will you allow me to accompany you?
I can protect you, you know."

She was a spunky young woman.
Didn’t care about what others said or thought
Yet she hesitated to answer
For she knew her soul was bought

"Mmm..I can manage by myself" she lied
And started to walk ahead quickly
She knew that soon she'd let down her pride
As her soul-craving
Came hot and thickly.
She turned to him,
To hear his answer
But shock was in her eyes
For right in front of her
Exposed, revealed
Was a rare sight
A rather crimson surprise

"Oh, pardon me, Sir,"she said
But before I take my leave
I couldn’t help but notice..
That your heart is upon your sleeve.."

He looked down
And it was true
A blood red mass of pumping
Veins and arteries
That jumped off his beautiful suit
of velvet
"Oh good God" he said
And stumbled back on the pavement

"Wait, don't fall" she cried
And ran to catch him steady
She looked into his eyes and somehow let out
"I am here for you, when you are ready"
I will take your heart and hold it,
never let it go
Keep it warm and safe
Wherever your love will flow
If you want me
I will be yours to choose
Now put in that heart
Before it gets bruised!"

He looked up at her
And his heart was already
On air
He knew he'd better listen
For he was already in a snare

"I'm not sure I can" he gasped
But got up
And brushed himself off
By then his heart pumped
Within his chest
And despite the blood
Smeared upon his vest
She took his arm
And down the kingsroad
they progressed,
Half-aware, half-amazed
at this random meeting,
this unexpected recognition of souls
this feeling of frantic heart-beating…
So much to discover,
As the folds of time
Slowly fall back like wings
so much to revel in,
as Love, sublime
Slowly raises its voice
And sings
Ksjpari Aug 2017
So precious, so dear, so exquisite grin
All of us could have is Sanmati jinn.
Notable for her academic success in
Many spheres of schooling life she win
Almighty’s blessings – parents too – akin.
Talking debauched of her is for me like sin.
Toughly soft, visionary blind, free chagrin –
Is she though a fortune maker for father in
Job and all prosperity of life as kingpin.
All I need is she be best in discipline,
In chastisement, regulation and tailspin.
Notable for us is Sanmati – a stickpin.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style.
FinkZ May 2018
2nd part of “I Walked To The Moon”

I Walked To The Moon. Now here I am on earth
With anxiety haunted my sleep
Desperately wanted to touch her
Missing the pull of her gravity
And live inside her forever

I remembered her spoiled voice
That I cannot resist
Asking me to stay longer
Until her sorrows are over
I hate to be separated from her
My moon that shines bright
In my everyday night

I stood up on my backyard before I sleep
I saw my moon standing in the sky toughly
She gleams brighter than before, as if she was looking for me
So I waved at her trying to grab her attention
But I’m just a human being, hardly she notice. Again my heart was broken
I missed her
I love her
I need her
I want her
The moon shine bright last night before I post this poem
I-sun Apr 2020
the smile
has toughly sticked on my lips
as it is worried
that I may think about your absence
➖➖➖➖➖➖
Brian McDonagh Apr 2018
My originality, yes,
Can be overshadowed by who I
Resemble.

I assume positions and mannerisms
Like my dad,
I’ve been told.
The laughter, the cadences in dialogue
Similar on the paternal end, it seems.

Any mention of resembling Mom?
Not really,
Mostly the “like father, like son” interpretation.
I know I have Mom in me, though;
She even told me how I have her lips,
And my dad notices the excited energy Mom and I both have.
Time to break the norm:
I propose “like mother, like son”
For what I learn and have inherited from the maternal side.

I’m not just a mix of my parents, though,
I’m also a homogenization of those I encounter.

There were times where I would try
To emulate my brother’s life strength,
Letting words that try to haunt evaporate from memory.
Of course, when people advise me to “be yourself”
The truth becomes clearer as I experiment with ways
Of trying to escape the life-burdens only I can undertake
That mimicry only makes “me-me-cry.”

Sometimes I’d love my sister’s assertiveness,
How somehow the strength of her direct dialogue
Thunders when her mind is set on a course of action.

Too many instances
Where before friends my eyes become “copy machines”
Scanning what I see fit to scale, but unfit for me:
Folding my arms toughly,
******* my hands in my pants’ pockets,
Adjusting the cadences of my voice,
Adjusting the volume/tone of my voice,
Thinking I can think what others think.

How do I stay original, regardless of how I’m prone to change?
Well, at least I have one area of originality:
Who I’ve encountered
And where I’ve been
At uniquely arranged times fit for me.
I'm Brian, in nomenclature and expositions.
No matter unfulfilled dreams never came true,
nevertheless yours truly doth gladly bid adieu,
where repurposed afterlife (mine) atomic brew
reconfigured, reconstituted, and reconsolidated
out maws of madness, no matter any blues clue
(yea undoubtedly, hypothetically, and admittedly

handy dandy) eventuality matter factly welcomed
neither feeling suicidal, but speculating often anew,
especially imbibing onset of early spring afternoon
googling Mother Goose nursery rhyme think Kudzu,
(albeit metaphorically) roots kickstarted scant hours
prior to distilling unexpected boyhood memory flew

out lift wafted subconsciously banked boyhood bliss
naively innocent childhood before depression grew
bathing, steeping, drenching psyche impossible exit
to escape apathy, delinquency, and insularity to shoo
away deleterious, egregious, ferocious linkedin angst
predominant across avast good n plenti birthdays (true

value underestimated) ineradicable suicidal ideations
(particularly courtesy anorexia nervosa) hide eschew
permanent stunting emotional, physical, and spiritual
integral vitally webbed no fly zone compromising zoo
wool logical garden variety generic specimen ****
sapien, one poker face Earthling born this way *****

shh he hating self - fostering longing toward deathly
hallows, which outlook averse to quickening Matthew
Scott Harris nsync with grim reaper, and matter fact
bolstering body, mind and spirit whereby altruistic rue
dement tree random acts of kindness infuse being alive,
particularly beset with psychological history in pursue

went of existential fatalistic nihilism apathetic regarding
optimal inchoate development while in utero stuck poo
poo wing me barely relishing gamut of pleasantries stew
wing within vegetating goulash (mush applicable chew
festering childhood's end into young adulthood) eating
je nais se quois healthy propensity esprit de corps crew

shall whereby maximization of gifted abilities shrugged
off (Atlas) suddenly experiencing consciousness brew
witting habituation feeling inadequate counting scores
notching chronological occupancy contingent since moo
knee decades elapsed, whereby cow whirring behavior
found geeky, nasally, and scrawny boy intimidated who

scared of his own shadow allow, enabling, and providing
perfect (no kidding naysaying) scapegoat fodder burr roo
till, short and nasty trolling ogres appeased appetite foo
fighting harmless lad (me) hurling fiendishly destructive
name calling (cruelly, relentlessly, and wickedly) be ewe

toughly heaping shear insults and sheepishly lambasting
second progeny singular son begat seminal viscous glue
embedding, latching, coalescing pinteresting stronghold
nsync ova riding competing mobile ace swimmers few
tile haploid gametes succumbing to soundless didgeridoo.

— The End —