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Joey Austin Nov 2012
It’s the strings of a guitar that remind me of coca butter skin. A warm-hearted harmony transfixes my mind to the california king with ripped bed sheets.  If only you hadn’t tickled the left side of my heart, I could’ve hidden my smile.  You were unexpected, a scientific anomaly.  Blind sided by nervous laughter and beautiful eyes, You’re my Sandra Bullock. You’ve saved me from the darkness of my heart, from all the self-appointed doubts and belief I am everything... But a good man.  It’s the white of your eyes that tells me I’m safe, the dimples of your smile let me know, you trust me. In the years before you, I lived like rusted iron, never thought about, never cared for, looking used and broken.  I was all of these things, because I wanted to be.  I feared of caring, petrified to look into blue eyes, saying, I love you. Weather with luck or broken tan lines, you’ve frozen my fear.  Our first memory is beneath bedsheets, hiding from the friends on the other side of love.  If curiosity kills the cat, I believe I have 8 lives left.  That’ll be long enough to show you that wrinkles above your nose during laughter, is the cutest feature I see.  It was a clouded night sky when we first swapped, I love you’s, I still smell the apple pie we shared.   I’ll cross my heart, hope to die if I forget our five hour mindless midnight argument, we are young adults with minds of children, only we find ice skating funny.  Everything I have is yours, praying that it’ll be enough because when the sky falls down, I’ll want to be standing right next to you.  You’ll be the calm before the storm, the rainbow after rain has seized it’s descent toward troubled grounds. When oceans become puddles, I’ll look back for nervous laughter and beautiful eyes, saving me from the darkness of my heart. I know it’s darkness shall never return, the white of your eyes enlightens the charcoal pieces.  So when the sun burns out, I’ll never be afraid. I’ll have you shield me beneath bedsheets, hiding from those on the other side of something, not yet known.
Homunculus Dec 2014
In a distant dystopia, it towers above all.
It radiates a dim blue glow, that
Transfixes eyes and minds alike.
Pulling with the gravity of 20,000 suns,
Its force cannot be rivaled.
An irresistible, iridescent abomination, and
An admonition unto the autonomy of thought.
Weaving tapestries of illusory illustrations,
Into the indigent intellect of its unsuspecticng viewers.
It's images penetrate the psyche like magic, as
Minds are manipulated into the madness, of
Mass consumption of manufactured "needs."
Its reporters replace reason with rhetoric, for
Objectivity is no obeject in an age of sound bites.
It demonizes difference, distracts, and desensitizes.
Apathy becomes queen, and facile pleasures become king.

Remember your vigilance.
This is part 1, part 2 will be a companion piece (or counterpoint, perhaps) called "The Virtuous Page"
Joseph Schneider Sep 2015
The sweet reminiscences of a miracle
Like an echo's last breath, so spiritual
So close, yet so far
Always keep your mind ajar
Miracles won't manifest in your palace
Miracles can only help the callous

False hearts of stone reach for greater heights
When it takes flesh and bone to taste its delight
All the wrong friends
With all the wrong foes
Transfixes the mind on the black rose
Away from the light, dwelling deep in the dark
Is a mind too early to expect a spark
So close, yet so far
Always keep your mind ajar
Miracles won't manifest in your palace
Miracles can only help the callous*


-Joseph B Schneider
© Joseph B Schneider. All rights reserved
Hannah Oct 2013
In my life
I have loved
and been loved
shed tears
and have lost hope

To love is to die
as, to hate is to care
We can love with all of our being;
mind, heart, body and soul
then we despise them for breaking our hearts

Love mesmerizes and transfixes us
it takes us captive
then lets go
leaving you there, alone
forgotten, weak, miserable

A life once filled with joy
now a sad, faint memory

This new found sadness
can **** with just one blow
knocking us off our feet,
disarranging our thoughts
and leaving us in despair

To love is to die
as innocence is to pain
you can’t have sunshine
without a little rain.
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
And quiet, a cemetery of the ancients,
fondled by the coiling mist of morning,
snuggles deep in the heart of the forest,
its quintessential stillness undisturbed.

And the sun ignites the darkened glade,
with a light that transfixes time itself,
heralding the infernally ponderous day,
when life endures the basics of survival.

And the moon shines in silver shards,
slanting beams with mystical hues,
announcing the delicious dark night,
where once again lies endless sleep.

And the shades of ageless dead relatives,
gravely sit and tell old ghost stories,
silencing the cold stone walls of tombs
with historic wisdom of times long gone.



© Pagan Paul (2017/18)
.
Your blatant onyx stare transfixes me
Plunged into a deep dichotomies of guilt and persecution
Naked under your primordial gaze
Liberation pulses to my core

The passion floating in your eyes is more then have the drones I know
The tendrils of your long grandmother feet
Wrinkles dictating the violence you consumed  
As you lay collapsed between holes in fences

The grip on my notebook tightens til its painful
Our staring contest has turned deadly
Meanwhile the one in the next cage is creating a disturbance
Tracing circles with his finger tips as he swings
His tale attached to the conical world vision  

You are not like him
your toenails turn black as a tarnished weapon
Maybe it is you that has adapted
My eyes look vacant in your reflection Of shock and conniving references

Your movements contort logic
Teleportation from within
The steps would break me into fractures
So  ill-suited to this wild world for which you were born
CautiousRain Mar 2016
Darling, your touch, elegant,
like a soft petaled flower,
transfixes me in place,
and your scent drives me mad.

Warm sweet tastes,
like nectar, sugar drops,
trail across my skin.

Those flavors, refreshing,
like honeysuckle on a Summer afternoon,
bold and vibrant like the Sun,
coat my lips like morning dew.

My heart flutters,
like a hummingbird, fast,
and the only thought tormenting me,
is the desire to relive it again.
His kiss was so sweet, I didn't know how else to compare it but to honeysuckle.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Incantation
Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed
There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying
Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed
First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo

He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth
An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar
One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth
This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they

Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise
Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender
The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise
Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor

Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding
It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning
There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding
One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo

Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night
Smoke dances seductively
while ascending from my to-this-day anonymous Pipe;
undulating and contorting, all according
to the movement of this particulate crystal lattice we call 'Air',
with which all these fans are *******.

As Light transfixes the Smoke,
revealed is some Grain of Wood like texture
floating and distorting elegantly and eloquently
as 5 centimeter thick cross-sections,
courtesy of the not quite fully open Blinds.
A brief satirical sketch using excessively bastardized and frivolous Language;
I find it sorta funny and kinda cute, but I'm a demented excuse for an Artist:

"Avast, scallywag! What is that there, of which thou partakest in pyrolyzed particulate form?!"
"Forsooth, figure of sanctioned Authority! I assure thee that I only partake of the socially sanctioned things, for only they cannot render one in potential harm! Why else would some things be law-abiding if not to protect the people from themselves?"
"Aha! So I see. It is indeed best when people question not the powers that be! Best be on thine way, then!"
ANH Aug 2013
I can tell she's been drinking by the discarded lemon skins dripping on the counter.
I clock them at quarter to three, or nine fifteen
and the clock reads ten past twelve, or zero zero one zero on the digital.
There's a dead energy, like watching a spider stand statuesque,
giving you the anticipation of feeling your skin crawl
when its threadbare limbs stroke the polished surface of your wooden floor
and the simultaneous begrudgement that it isn't instead rotting in a bed of decomposing soil.
The windows are unrelenting slabs of black
and the only light is a twisted regurgitation of the scene behind me,
a mocking parallel universe that blocks me from the outside of this hollow house.
I hear laughter lightly bouncing off the back walls
and I see, through God's black humour as it feels a miracle,
a light through the window, bobbing up and down through the movement of some silhouetted poltergeist -
the consumed, burning end of a cigarette.
And the light transfixes me, in all its seductive intoxication
as its products curl gently against the absorbent tissue of my mother's throat,
because it penetrates the darkness outside;
because black silence encloses me as it is pulled backwards
and is then broken when it is rocked forwards and laughter once again stains her nicotine-kissed lips;
because that bobbing light in our shadowed, rotting garden holds more power in that moment than either of us.
The title is the name of one of the chapters in Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting -
the drug here is nowhere near as hard but my regards towards it are the same.
Looking heavenward, I see only the earth.
The stars align and the planets turn,
But what of the holy?

Archangels sit and smoke and weep on tenement rooftops,
And the collared cherubim bleed into the rainswept gutters
Like cut dogs in cardboard boxes by the highways of New York,
Or the roadsides of back-alley Brooklyn or Paterson,
Where the demonic masses lie naked in the streets,
Their souls bared raw to heaven
And their hair as messy as sidestreet dumpsters.

The misted rain fogs on the busted double glazing,
The bare limbed trees outside fallen victim to a long winter
And a late spring.
The air that blows through the streets of these mundane cul-de-sacs
Has passed through the lungs of cancerous dodgers
In those hell-indulgent cities,
Where children find their kicks by freerunning
Across buildings of bricks made from c-grades,
Or by standing atop high-rises in the grey wind,
And biting their tongues only to feel their own consciousness
Burrowing into them
Like parasites from the condemning schoolhouses or university halls.

You’re alone when your skies turn grey,
And the rain falls with all the purposeful intent of a neon god.
You’re alone when your smashed milk bottles and broken plates
Are like music on those drug-dampened dawns,
You’re alone when your cold, ash-stippled roof gardens
Are your only way to heaven,
You’re alone when your fingers are cut on your own writing
And you are dizzy from spinning yourself sick
Alone in your splintered art lofts.

Your stars are misaligned and your planets need engine grease to turn,
And you sit and smoke and weep on tenement rooftops,
But you still look heavenward.
You see your madness in the same silver moon
That compels the tide and transfixes wolves,
You recognise yourself in newspaper clippings proclaiming ******,
You acknowledge your expression in broken syringes
And powder remnants
On the glass-topped coffee tables of water-dripping apartments,
You feel your heartbeat in the gasolined engines
Of stuttering Cadillacs
And taste your own warm lifeblood in the burgers of roadside diners.

You see cosmological galaxies bursting like Van Goghs,
Horrible, bitter-cold starstorms underneath white skies,
Raindrop-dripping garden leaves in shrubberies and verges
And earthy rockeries,
You dream of enlightened, ***-smoking boys in beat-up trailers
And the cluttered box rooms of sky-high apartments,
Of screeching atop stone-cragged mountains of green in highlands,
Of bell-rung harbours in the white seaside towns of England,
Of the salt-chapped lips of fisherwives
And the bone-skinny children of sailors,
Of visionary angels in stained glass cathedrals,
Of the cobbled thoroughfares of lamplit cafes in a Parisian purgatory.

And yet you lie naked on floors,
You lie high on floors and let visions spill from your hands
Like the whiskey you drink.
You are under us now,
Under the earth like meat sacks.
But your vision lives on
In every piece of self-indulgent fuckery written for you,
In every copy of your collected works
Or your novels.

Seek,
Live,
****,
Die.
For you are immortal, in the end.
**** ending, but endings are hard.
James Tuohy Apr 2011
This lead vest is hard to breathe in, and theres to much blood in the air.  I can't figure what went wrong here, the x-rays seem to leave negative space on white paper floors.  A guilt of one mans atrocity, transfixes the colors in his brain.  The veins like puppet-works control and define.  The master has no rights, left them all to vacancy inside.  

Walking over what lies only in half of his life.  The other side never made a move, its to afraid to die.  Paused and unfixed, he waits for the moment of peace to fall behind. Far ahead of another mans decision, breaks fatal pieces of reality.  Can time really take what has no life or dignity.  Crumbled footsteps sick of fantasy, leaves through glass that brings forth everything that will last.  

Comfort for the man, that really could never laugh. For his lead chest is to hard to breathe in while he fills with a repulsive vigor.  And all problems are left as a sliver.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Broken
He stole away through dark and cold streets just a wonderer no one noticed he fell from grace not even
A trace was found did not glory he hold unmapped the wilderness now his domain the dark twisted
Trees form his understanding he hears the creatures exceptionally well the man shifts from man to beast
It takes derangement to reorder a person of exceptional abilities to be a ruler who no one questions to a
Fool that no one sees is a great fall indeed now the clouded moon a sphere it transfixes his mind it alone
Seemingly his only kind friend he hides in the day from fear so the blessed warmth of the sun he never
Feels jumbled sentences string together they seem commanding but make no sense at all his hair has
Grown the crowning of madness eerily displayed he handles rocks and branches as they have fallen from
The sky he intently studies them to no avail they have no significance or meaning with a grunt and a
Growl he tosses them aside goes on about his wondering free thoughts streak through his mind he
Seems to see royal robes a throne how the delirium of the mind does mock he lies on the early morning
Dew arches upward with a howl of a beleaguered mind crying out for comprehension what altered
World realities he must view the most common objects divide morph into hideous ridiculous concepts
Delusional aspects loss reality given new birth in frontiers of destruction the total breakdown of the
Human structure along known lines all is ramped up and on a rampage what worth is this piece of
Human tragedy as worth as much as you and me this one described was none other than the known ruler
Of the world at that time he was being taught a fundamental lesson of who was actually in charge man or his
Creator so many of us have difficulty in having faith in the unseen some would say it’s insane just like
This man’s condition but listen to one we can at least see in part as ourselves King Nebuchadnezzar’s it
Says came to himself in the fields and his noblemen came and restored him to his kingdom his words
And views were forever changed it was no longer I the big it but it is God who rules through all
Generations it is He who should be worshiped if you’re in danger of going into eternal judgment and you
Just stroll along then you’re mad and you need to come to yourself and your noble ones as angels will
Come and restore you to all that which is yours that you now disallow by living a low life that is empty and
You hold to a disfigured reality that controls and will deliver you to the second death of the lake of fire
Go on post filth that degrades yourself and others but inwardly your soul’s cry is please come to yourself
If someone grabbed your child you would fight to the death to save them but they grab your soul for the purpose of you being destroyed with them because of their original sin and evil and you don’t lift a finger now that’s crazy
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Broken
He stole away through dark and cold streets just a wonderer no one noticed he fell from grace not even
A trace was found did not glory he hold unmapped the wilderness now his domain the dark twisted
Trees form his understanding he hears the creatures exceptionally well the man shifts from man to beast
It takes derangement to reorder a person of exceptional abilities to be a ruler who no one questions to a
Fool that no one sees is a great fall indeed now the clouded moon a sphere it transfixes his mind it alone
Seemingly his only kind friend he hides in the day from fear so the blessed warmth of the sun he never
Feels jumbled sentences string together they seem commanding but make no sense at all his hair has
Grown the crowning of madness eerily displayed he handles rocks and branches as they have fallen from
The sky he intently studies them to no avail they have no significance or meaning with a grunt and a
Growl he tosses them aside goes on about his wondering free thoughts streak through his mind he
Seems to see royal robes a throne how the delirium of the mind does mock he lies on the early morning
Dew arches upward with a howl of a beleaguered mind crying out for comprehension what altered
World realities he must view the most common objects divide morph into hideous ridiculous concepts
Delusional aspects loss reality given new birth in frontiers of destruction the total breakdown of the
Human structure along known lines all is ramped up and on a rampage what worth is this piece of
Human tragedy as worth as much as you and me this one described was none other than the known ruler
Of the world at that time he was being taught a fundamental lesson of who was actually in charge man or his
Creator so many of us have difficulty in having faith in the unseen some would say it’s insane just like
This man’s condition but listen to one we can at least see in part as ourselves King Nebuchadnezzar’s it
Says came to himself in the fields and his noblemen came and restored him to his kingdom his words
And views were forever changed it was no longer I the big it but it is God who rules through all
Generations it is He who should be worshiped if you’re in danger of going into eternal judgment and you
Just stroll along then you’re mad and you need to come to yourself and your noble ones as angels will
Come and restore you to all that which is yours that you now disallow by living a low life that is empty and
You hold to a disfigured reality that controls and will deliver you to the second death of the lake of fire
Go on post filth that degrades yourself and others but inwardly your soul’s cry is please come to yourself
If someone grabbed your child you would fight to the death to save them but they grab your soul for the purpose of you being destroyed with them because of their original sin and evil and you don’t lift a finger now that’s crazy
an ant fell in between the page
   of the book,

even its own silence it does not understand.
from where to climb it does not know,
all steps carve discourse;

staggering in its littleness, its fragile
  mind takes on the mystery of star
and its delicate body swells in the sheen
   of words.

as in the night, it trails the moon's slender stem that transfixes
   a constellation's ephemerality:
a soldier tumbled over, undulant,
  amazed in betweenness of light
and dark when god himself dies
   before his fall was born,

o trencherman, deep in the peril
  of a word's closing, fusion of
knowledge's breakwater and permutations of bluntness,

the unwelcoming abyss is your kingdom,
  unwillingly enduring the taut blow
    without purpose — when the book is shut, to what dark do you imagine your
  eyes? to what enigma does your senses
wake up to? and to what erudition does
   your silence keep flowering?

an ant fell into the book, and in its turning page, it rides each changing wave like
  the white in its pale, blue horse,

arriving at different shores, yet all the same, a notable fate: stilled and dizzy
washed and unmoving in the abject night.
it was with greater risk that I knew
  that when I let you in,
your metaphysics, my being would acquaint
  itself to such metanoia:

that there was such an air in your voice
  that would sway me a forest and give me
a necklace of sunlight. like a well-oiled machine
  I let your gruel work its way like a beast
claiming the calm, like the youth purloining the silence,
   like the death making most frugal the earth and its troves.

little night, black bird of my heart: when you
take your flight in me, solder me up
  there, vertiginously above the floor:

     all those of much the land that coats
our feet’s trembling aches,
    all that still laughs
   without what joy shapes with its motherly hands
where you assume the stillness as something
  the shadow languages and transfixes
   in all of the days

   lays captured, a darkness too
halved, voyaging without eyes, in every direction
eclipsing with the sound of incontrovertible music,
     echoing, rippling in me with
alterations.
This rhetoric transfixes those who bare witness.

A man will always be manipulated by a women.


For he was not a man and she was not a women but individuals changing life and the universe
.
For man cannot live without her therefore they will do anything she ask him to, I laugh at you, for these are conversations I share to my moon.

Men without a clue. Women have nothing to lose.

Are you amused by what they choose? In contrast to our immunity ; we all learn something new.

It is not much for a women to be cold towards a man's suicide for men all tend to get stuck on the inside....


But she cannot live without a man.
For the love she looks for is enslavement.
I told my babe this....

The common women will see power as the basis

She calls it love thus the excuse for exploitation

The advantage one wants to gain for one's self.
                     Differs in sexes. The consequences. Two subjects who needed each other to become selfless.

I looked into my wife's eyes.  She NEVER needed men in her life . She looked into her man’s eyes and realized he lied for her independence, so she knows she can do it herself, he was selfless towards her victories.

I pretended to worship her outsides, only to meet the inside.

Shocked that he knew her better then she did.

No wonder he never saw her as a women or a 'she 'or a 'queen'  for what he called her wasn't just for esteem but the secret to their dreams.
I am neither man nor women and so is she,  we are our own breed.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
Who has not heard the very
first whisper
Of sonorous change as it catches
the drift
In tremulous breeze and starts
to quiver ?
An inward shuddering swells
to myriads
Of differing encores chiming to
sighing winds.

Who of us has measured each
rhythm blown
Thru trees and expertly echoes
all the notes
That ****** in my swinging pipes
of chrome ?
The chatter when changing key
by rota,
Makes wind-chiming music sing
in motion.

Who has explained this addiction
for more
Tunes as wind's move transfixes
with awe ?
Mad moments subdued by mystic
sound draws
From ringing a peace not met with
before.
Stress-mood relieved proves chimes
can transform
Eryri Jul 2019
Lava flows and transfixes,
A painfully slow maggoty writhing
Overcoming what it should not catch,
Scorching deep rooted flora,
Creating blank canvas desolation:
Fertile ground for dark new seeds.
Michael Demian Feb 2020
Live even when you want to die,
When having strength to fight no longer
You gnash your teeth and want to cry
Because the pain is getting stronger.
When meaningless and silent strife
Has made your spirit deadly tired
And freedom from these chains of life,
Is very ardently desired.
When you cannot endure your pains,
Do not let death embrace your body.
The blood is icy in its veins,
Its tongue transfixes everybody.
The eyes of death are blank and cold,
They tear to pieces and devour.
Its ruthless hands so strongly hold
The reins of such enormous power.
When seeking peace, on the deathbed
To fall asleep do not endeavor.
Be open-eyed and look ahead,
Face troubles boldly more than ever.
With time the pain will go away,
To heal all wounds the time is able.
But if you choose the death one day,
You will be eaten on its table.
And being breathless, deaf and blind
With ground your body will be covered.
Fight for the life, and to your mind
Its beauty will be once discovered.
Matthew Oct 2019
Standing rigid in the temptress' dream,
Moses is bathed by ragged stone
in the fortress' light at the dawn
of his sacrifice.

She transfixes him with her whisper
and plants the seed of
a needy higher power,
to which she can attach
her sadistic, demonic thoughts
and give him pain
in the name of loyalty to
a nothingness holding its power
over him, like a wind without the chill.
Travis Green Mar 2022
I am greatly intoxicated with carnal passion
Craving to taste your lovable luminous lips
Dreamy pink, fragrant, and delectable
Beardalcious sexaliciousness
Mesmerizing obsidian eyes
Knowing glowing eyebrows
How I feen for my fingers
To feel your body in ways
That enamor me all over

Your hotness transfixes me
So spectacularly sauced up
Flexing relentlessly
Sink me in your masculine enchantment
Take me into your dreams
Where I can stream
In your city soul love
I salivate to taste you
Like sweet potato cake
With salted caramel
Like the best brown sugar pie bars

Drink him down
Like premium brown liquor
Like a green demon cocktail
I want to be in a sheer perfect trance
When I romanticize about your delicious dreamy beauty
**** swagger love strapped with the gat
One hundred certified king
Fresh, clean, and supreme

I feen to splash with him
In a massively marvelous blue sea
Of sweet boundless delight
Become spacey in your tasty sweetness
Strip you naked to savor
Your exquisitely glistening treasure
Lay you down on my bed
Abounding in stellar red roses
I ache to make love to you
Feel you spark my body all over
Travis Green Aug 2022
Your masterful immersing perfection
Swirls in my submerged mind
With steamy sensual kisses
On my plump perfumed lips
Actively crashing radness
Rememberable supreme dreaminess
Immaculate swaggeresque rareness
So ridiculously brickolicious

I crave to taste your electric intoxicating abs
Your stellar swelled-up chest
Crashingly crafted and caressible biceps
You are the truest and smoothest stud
That runs monstrous thundering game in my frame of mind
I muse on your lustrous lush lips
How compelling and refreshing they are to caress
To embrace your radiant clean-shaven face
Every deliciously fragrant detail
Of your hot and fascinating framework

Let my seductive clutchers cling
To your sculpted bulging shoulders
Feel my fun-loving tongue run around
Your thick rigid neck
Magically milky lover
Your stupendousness pushes my limits
Your send a massively ecstatic surge
Of roaring hot sparks through my body

Set me afire, devour my perspiring desirableness
Make me so enraptured by your utter thrilling electricity
Such unstoppable top-notch doggedness
Your rippling, teasing physique transfixes me
Staring at your magical apple-green eyes
Passionate beardtastic madness
How your flex your unsurpassed cracking bareness
Makes me desire to live in epically blessed majesty
Cherishing your eternal manful handsomeness
Travis Green Jun 2023
He is the magically delicious man of my dreams
So grippable, kissable, and undefeatable
My luscious muscular studmuffin
My moist chocolate hot boy
His enchantingness transfixes me

His sweetness appeals to me
I hunger for his monster-hunkish ruggedness
To feel the broadness of his charming chest
His hella pumped-up biceps
His tight, slappable ***

Being in his closeness
Has me so bowled over by his dopeness
Hankering to feel the mighty power
Of his top-notch dominant machoness
His untamed high-octane game

Such a tall rock-solid sauce daddy
So nasty, splashy, and tasty
His magical tattoed rareness attracts my attention
His entireness arouses me
Gives me the hottest hard-on

Increase the pace of my heart rate
Makes me crave for him
To take me to his ******* playground
Ram his pleasure monster buster
Deep in my tunnel of succulency

Make me feel every inch of him
Traversing further within me
Increase the speed
Make my *** cheeks jiggle
Make me feel the unbelievable litness
Of his sexually pleasing slickness

Observe his bouncy appetizing berries
As he confounds me, pounds me
Gnaw at the nape of my neck
Chain me up, *** me up
Look into my love-struck eyes
As he overpowers me

Pounces upon me
Grip my buoyant gigantic melons
Tweak my stiff chocolate nips
Smoke me all over
Spit in my creamy man *****

Take me to the deepest depths of ecstasy
Kiss the surface of my firm back
Make me gasp to the max
With his mad bad attraction
Hold me down, control my ground

Shove his thickness in my crash-hot love box
Make me bow down to his profoundness
Feel every ounce of his wildness
As he rises to a high point
And soaks my tightness with his five-star man oil
Travis Green Feb 2023
My devilish ****** heavy-hitter
His fiery virile refinement flows within me
He infuses me with unconquerable saucy amorosity
His unshakeable displayable sensationalness is
So worthy of being worshipped

His fragrant flourishing form is
The most far-and-away greatness
That compels my nerve cells
His radiant taking nakedness
Dances through my submerged mind
Causes me to float in his glowing oceans
Of formidable illimitable dopeness

His beguilingness burns bright in my brandy brown eyes
My unforgettably splendid dream guy
I dig his fierce bearded masterpiece
I lapse into his fashionably eye-grabbing swagger
Longing to be lost in his applaudable art world

I can’t resist the boldness of his engrossing machoism
To meander aimlessly through his entire universe
Of delightfully divine and shining paradise
Such an infusion of booming true-blue coolness
He captures my gaytasticness
Like the cleverest professional thief

He bewitches me with his tender touching nature
Transfixes my senses
Clenches and strengthens my limbs
Stares me up and down with his handsome hazel eyes
As he lays claim to my sexually tantalizing domain
Travis Green Mar 2022
I crave your solid thick snake sliding on my tongue
******* it amorously without hesitation
Allowing my imagination to elevate
And create enthralling ****** depictions
Of your magically masculine masterpiece
Your long lickable love muscle is luscious to stroke
So dope to *******, so remarkably hot when I choke
I take thrilling pleasure in your spectacular crafted shaft
Attached to a powerfully passionate prince like you

You are my man-nificent wonderland
My strapping gratifying immaculate treasure
Your incredibleness so transfixes me
The way it presses and caresses against my lascivious lips
Makes me so hung up on your stunning monster launcher
I have never felt so much magic in my life before
I extraordinarily adore your fantastical form
How your hot big rocks rub against my expressive sensual jaws

You capture me in your dopetabulous majesty
I **** you harder, lapse into your mesmerizing moans
Stare at you  wide-eyed, concentrating on your throbbing thick art
Demonstrating my stellar ******* skills
As your saucy sparkling body shudders all over
Give you a bomb head game that stuns your soul
Bask in your manlicious and incandescent canvas
Strong sexalicious flesh that makes me go crazy over you

I am so exceedingly greedy over you
There’s nothing else that satisfies my appetite
More than your heavy jackhammer melded to my tongue
I want you so much more, lost between your thick muscular thighs
Tasting your contagious masculine flavor
Probing your perfect ***** hairs with my fingers
Daddy, I am so blown away by your bright ingratiating frame
I don’t know what else to do but immerse myself in your thickness
Make you yell out, “FUCCKKKKKK, THAT THROAT WILD”
When you reach your immaculate ******* ******
And shoot your delicious **** milk all over my lustful lips
Travis Green Aug 2020
You were a mountain blazing man, so full
of inexpressible thoughts and discoveries
careening through the seamless sweet skin,
sheer nakedness, natural beauty blending
in with the blossoming blue seas, pearly bright
clouds, the succulent sun of enormous love
radiating enticing hunger, sugar splashing
waves possessing wild urges, insatiable
sensations, flavorlicious sauce, beat dropping
hotness, shimmering too bright for the eyes,
making it lit like vivid blue lightning.  
You were a body of exploding boulevards,
a muscular man full of hip-hopping drip,
sizzling kisses, a whirling river of memories,
rock-hard consonants, blissful vowels,
lips of wanting and needing, your glistening
back so beautifully broad and bursting
with soul, exquisite fractions adding passion
to the fire, generating a soundtrack
of scenic light, a whole of life of moonlit
attraction turning up the night with your
slow jamming nation, the music igniting,
traveling in higher heights like a wildfire,
immersed in your candlelight flight,
the scene so right, longing to feel
your sexiness seep in me, taste
the honey nectar as it oozed
from your body.  I longed to submit
to your pulsating plantation, your silken skin
of vast fascinations, anxiously awaiting
to be exposed to the rotation of your physique,
oh, how it transfixes me, the way you danced
so sensually, staring at me, strip teasing,
removing your Ethika boxers as my heart
became rapt, every secret treasure unwrapped,
coming closer to me, grinding your flesh
to mine, chests to chests, breath to breath,
lips to lips, trembling hips, my hands
clung to your scrumptiously tender ***,
feeling all of you, the calming thoughts
of you, your world filling me with strong
and swelling desires.  I loved how you
touched me, satisfied me, made my body
rise in surprise to your euphonic drum,
your gleaming glances, your emotions,
my devotion, your movements so rhythmic
and riveting, simply irresistible, lost in your
destiny, your innocence, and strengthening
security, to savor your bejeweled, anaconda
**** of sparking fantasies, addictively pleasing
and refilling the open doors to my core.  
Your **** was a poem of grandeur, an entire
universe of musical loving, sculpted spice,
muscle flamed rawness, the surface so hard
and harmonious, marvelous head, a lightning
bolt of skyrocketing starships, so slippery
and relaxing, ensnared by the encounter,
by your masculine fineness encasing me,
to be gone, drifting in your splendorous Milky Way.
Travis Green Feb 2022
I yearn for your silkily spectacular splashiness
To feel your precious velvet caresses
Your warm, captivating body locked to mine
The intriguing vividness of your frame
Inveighles me into your extraordinarily illuminating manliness
Your world blazes through my heartland
Fazes my existence, makes me so profoundly dazed
My thoughts are toppled the more I revel in your awesome sauce

You are a smooth streaming summer breeze
Ever so fresh and vigorous, exuberant and sensuous
Unalloyed splendor, incredible, magical delight
Your clean, supreme, and masculine scent fills my nostrils
Makes me wander in the entrance halls of your artistic hotness
Your beguiling black eyes beckon me in the proximity of your bliss
Your enchantingness tremendously transfixes me

All I can see at this moment is fondling your body
Beholding your sparkling, showstopping wonderment
Your hands clinging to my ****, chesty *******
My bare, soft neck, my deliciously appealing shoulders
Your hot, masculine, and bulging muscles
Feel magical against my skin
I long for you to barge into my sensual, alluring charms
And rock me in every ****** position
That stimulates you everywhere
Shaquille Otto Apr 2020
Thought I didn't need anyone
Turns out I just needed a mom
The black sheep
I was never apart
Furthest away from your heart
Things have changed
I'm growing old
I don't need you
You still feel cold
I'm out of sight
Out of mind
I don't need you, I'll do alright
I don't need your blessings
Or your cash
Without your help I'll make a splash
Land on my feet woth a crash
I'm happier than ever
My life's brand new
And most of all
I'm not like you.
© 4 years ago, Shaq Jordan Otto   life  
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Masked Man
You think no one sees you, but you are wrong; i do; though I shouldn't.
You wear what you perceive to be a mask
A mask of what you show to others
Made up of bright colors
Colors that match all your friends
Those friends you discovered are foes
With hideous all crooked nose
In terrible greed and green
All covered in filth and obscene
I have never seen you wearing your mask
I see who you are underneath
And even so
I have never seen your eyes blink
Those eyes
They stare with a stare that transfixes me into staring
Lost eyes. Seeing eyes
You are different
You feel smells, and breath colors
You love with you thoughts
And somehow, I see you
I really see you
I read you
It's not a mask
It's a shield
Hiding the deeper thoughts
The darker places
The dreams of death
Lost loves and solitude
Surrounded by people every night
You feel more alone than ever in your mind
Because you never let anyone in...not anymore
For their sake and your sake
You never again let anyone see behind the mask
SOmetimes I wonder if you like it that way
You know the advantages of welding words
You enjoy playing the dark mysterious corner
As well as you do the light of the party
But no matter who you play, no matter what mask
you wear, you always hide bits of yourself. \
Pieces that should be pressed,
Parts that you trap inside yourself the mask like a lid...
Just do go there, you push aside the things like they mean nothing.
And you think n one notices.
But I do.
I see you with you unblinking eyes
I read you, between the lines.
I hear you, when you don't say a word
The man, the mask, are nothing together
Without their shared secrets.
I wrote this poem because the woman I love showed me that I have a mask, but only she can see through it. Vise Versa to her, she and I are the only ones who can see through the ******* and drama. You'll always be the one for me.

— The End —