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"undid" poems
We made love under a tree crazy me and obsessed thee Ah! holding each other so tight at the peeking pale twilight. Caressing you from the nose, sliding way down to your toes; I made the chills run down your skin kissing your cute trembling chin. Locking your soft lips with mine I used my tongue to give you a sign. Closing the eyes, you went with the flow You ripped my pant off and dragged it low Excited by your aggressive touch, I slowly removed your clothes. And when I undid your red bra you drew me closer and moaned ‘aahh’ You smelled sweet like the fresh smiling flowers And you were all mine for quite a few hours Your rapid hot breathe lured me more and more I bit your ******* took our emotions to the core. Delicately I went down and licked your **** that seemed to have aroused you a bit. Then you scratched my back with your nail I was happy to see my moves leaving a trail. Thus, it was time to go for the ultimate bliss So I pulled you closer and gave a passionate kiss Gently I resided my hardness in you to quench our lust Up and down I moved but tenderly at first With each swift push, you moaned loud by seeing your amazing charm, I was wowed. Time passed as we kept letting ourselves free And this is how we made love under a tree.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
Adult poetry (18+)
That small man who always sang That small man who danced in my head That small man with youth Undid his shoelaces And broke all the barracks of the festival Suddenly everything collapsed And in the silence of the festival In the ruin of the festival I heard your happy voice Your voice so torn and fragile Innocent and desolate Came from afar and called me And I put my hands on my chest where they trembled ****** Seven broken pieces of mirror with your twinkling smile
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10.8k
Broken Mirror
The hazel in her eyes/matched the laces in her dress/I must confess/ that as I undid all the knots/ A thousand thoughts/ rushed through my head/ but i forgot/ how to speak/ so I let my hands speak to your hips/ and my neck adore your lips/ the only kiss/ I could miss/ on a day/ when you'd be away/ I'd beg to stay/ in your arms/ no harm/ would come to pay/ any attention/ to the way/ I hold my most prized possession/ rose red lips/ slender finger tips/ caress me/ the candles lit/ fire in the balcony/ smoke into the sky/ clouding light/ bringing night/ by your side/ I stay inside/ try to hide/ from snow and ice/ getting lost/ lost inside/ again, your hazel eyes.
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Hazel Eyes
I I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark. The blue-green glow of dashboard gauges, the biting scent of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap. Insects slapping the windshield, incipient rain. Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms. II Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor on MLK Boulevard. The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence inscribed on my back also confirms this. III I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair, fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears, twisting behind tent ***** with a one-armed contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair. IV I derailed in a dive bar. V I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights, where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic signals kept perfect time. I picked through trash bins. I paid for love with drugstore wine. VI I closed my eyes on a mountain road. The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank. VII I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew back the curtains and lost myself in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps, the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes. I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide. VIII The moon over my shoulder tightened into focus like a spotlight. One night the barking dogs undid me. I caved in to the candor of a naked mattress. I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell, clinging to bars the color of a morning dove. IX I coveted the house keys of strangers. X I opened and closed many doors. I sang into the mouths of storm drains. I stepped out of many rooms only to find myself in the room I just left. Despite all my leaving, I remained.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
Escape Artist Sketches
I I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark. The blue-green glow of dashboard gauges, the biting scent of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap. Insects slapping the windshield, incipient rain. Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms. II Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor on MLK Boulevard. The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence inscribed on my back also confirms this. III I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair, fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears, twisting behind tent ***** with a one-armed contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair. IV I derailed in a dive bar. V I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights, where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic signals kept perfect time. I picked through trash bins. I paid for love with drugstore wine. VI I closed my eyes on a mountain road. The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank. VII I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew back the curtains and lost myself in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps, the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes. I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide. VIII The moon over my shoulder tightened into focus like a spotlight. One night the barking dogs undid me. I caved in to the candor of a naked mattress. I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell, clinging to bars the color of a morning dove. IX I coveted the house keys of strangers. X I opened and closed many doors. I sang into the mouths of storm drains. I stepped out of many rooms only to find myself in the room I just left. Despite all my leaving, I remained.
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49
I was wrapped in black fur and white fur and you undid me and then you placed me in gold light and then you crowned me, while snow fell outside the door in diagonal darts. While a ten-inch snow came down like stars in small calcium fragments, we were in our own bodies (that room that will bury us) and you were in my body (that room that will outlive us) and at first I rubbed your feet dry with a towel becuase I was your slave and then you called me princess. Princess! Oh then I stood up in my gold skin and I beat down the psalms and I beat down the clothes and you undid the bridle and you undid the reins and I undid the buttons, the bones, the confusions, the New England postcards, the January ten o'clcik night, and we rose up like wheat, acre after acre of gold, and we harvested, we harvested.
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4.5k
Us
Johnny and Mary Now Johnny knew Mary since they were little tykes, Running in the field, riding their bikes, Like other little kids, they stayed out all day, Doing their chores, later they'll play, Johnny and Mary went to school, Tried real hard, act real cool, Johnny noticed Mary started to grow real fine, Nice firm ******* big behin', Johnny thought he'd take him a chance, He asked Mary to the high shool dance, Mary said fine, pick me up at eight, Dress real sharp, now don't be late, Johnny started thinkin' this could be his night, Throw her a line, maybe she'll bite, Johnny and Mary started to dance real slow, Something in Johnny's pants, startin' to grow, Johnny asked Mary to spend some time, Back at my place, we can sit and unwind, Johnny took Mary straight back to his pad, This will be the best night, he's ever had, Poured a little wine and dimmed the light, Made sure everything, looked just right, Went over to the stereo and put on a song, Then he gave her a kiss, slow and long, Their lips met and their tongues did a dance, As Johnny reached down and undid his pants, He removed hers too and went to town, Got on his knees, he was going down, Mary started to wiggle, moan and squirm, As Johnny's tool got nice and firm, A few more licks, a feel and a pet, Mary's hole was nice and wet, Stuck in the tip, a little poke, Then all the way, he was startin' to stroke, As Johnny got busy and started to ream, All the neighbors could hear Mary scream, Johnny got tense and was about to explode, Into Mary he shot his load, A few days later Mary felt real ill, Then she remembered, she forgot her pill, Mary gave birth to a fine looking son, Mary's father started to clean his gun, Johnny married Mary at City Hall, He didn't want her dad to cut off his ***** Johnny got a job so he could provide support, He didn't want Mary draggin' him to court, A few years down the road things didn't seem right, Johnny and Mary were starting to fight, There was a whole lotta fussin' and they began to shout, Mary told Johnny she wanted him out, Mary got a lawyer, just passed the bar, Now Mary's driving Johnny's brand new car. That is the story of Johnny and Mary...Later... 07-03-09.
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
Johnny And Mary
Johnny and Mary Now Johnny knew Mary since they were little tykes, Running in the field, riding their bikes, Like other little kids, they stayed out all day, Doing their chores, later they'll play, Johnny and Mary went to school, Tried real hard, act real cool, Johnny noticed Mary started to grow real fine, Nice firm ******* big behin', Johnny thought he'd take him a chance, He asked Mary to the high shool dance, Mary said fine, pick me up at eight, Dress real sharp, now don't be late, Johnny started thinkin' this could be his night, Throw her a line, maybe she'll bite, Johnny and Mary started to dance real slow, Something in Johnny's pants, startin' to grow, Johnny asked Mary to spend some time, Back at my place, we can sit and unwind, Johnny took Mary straight back to his pad, This will be the best night, he's ever had, Poured a little wine and dimmed the light, Made sure everything, looked just right, Went over to the stereo and put on a song, Then he gave her a kiss, slow and long, Their lips met and their tongues did a dance, As Johnny reached down and undid his pants, He removed hers too and went to town, Got on his knees, he was going down, Mary started to wiggle, moan and squirm, As Johnny's tool got nice and firm, A few more licks, a feel and a pet, Mary's hole was nice and wet, Stuck in the tip, a little poke, Then all the way, he was startin' to stroke, As Johnny got busy and started to ream, All the neighbors could hear Mary scream, Johnny got tense and was about to explode, Into Mary he shot his load, A few days later Mary felt real ill, Then she remembered, she forgot her pill, Mary gave birth to a fine looking son, Mary's father started to clean his gun, Johnny married Mary at City Hall, He didn't want her dad to cut off his ***** Johnny got a job so he could provide support, He didn't want Mary draggin' him to court, A few years down the road things didn't seem right, Johnny and Mary were starting to fight, There was a whole lotta fussin' and they began to shout, Mary told Johnny she wanted him out, Mary got a lawyer, just passed the bar, Now Mary's driving Johnny's brand new car. That is the story of Johnny and Mary...Later... 07-03-09.
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55
*After five good years of drought It rained kisses and warming hugs After my heart emaciating from rejection I have experienced a resurrection She kissed me wholly and deep She sowed and had to reap Could not recall the feminine grip Even how to undo a lady zip She kissed my upper and lower lip Then around my body took a trip Tore my favorite shirt,no time to unbutton She ate my skin softly hard as a glutton Not sure it was her mouth on my *** Cause I couldn't open my eyes as she did it She passed her soft fingers on my chest Luckily I hadn't on my fitting vest Crawled about my belly like a worm While my ****** heart beat loud as a drum She said something I didn't hear Because passion had blocked my ear She then undid my belt and my trousers Quicker than all internet browsers Then...then put the muzzle in her mouth Was she aware of the bullet, I doubt She cleared all the rust through the years While in pleasure I cried happy tears She knew how to hold the whistle and blow Between where she knelt down low Her palm around me was a soft tight glove Felt she's the one that I deserved Like a snake she crawled back up And astride the volcanic plug sat Asap Not afraid of the sharp edges causing harm She kissed me violently and hurt my gum I just couldn't care less at such a moment Of a soothing ride, a welcome torment Soon overtaken by my inner animal I realized I could not take it anymore And took charge of the walk to heaven While the clock alarmed, think eleven She arched tout like a hunters bow And her eyes brightly seemed to glow My journey deep was careful and slow But the return as swift as Pacman's blow I loved the way she clawed her nails Into me, she reopened all my wells I wanted to take her for a longer ride But the wave of passion killed me,I died Even when we were done I remained inside Watching her skin as pale as transfiguration Out of the joy we had shared, I'm glad I received my emotional resurrection*
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Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
MY RESURRECTION
*After five good years of drought It rained kisses and warming hugs After my heart emaciating from rejection I have experienced a resurrection She kissed me wholly and deep She sowed and had to reap Could not recall the feminine grip Even how to undo a lady zip She kissed my upper and lower lip Then around my body took a trip Tore my favorite shirt,no time to unbutton She ate my skin softly hard as a glutton Not sure it was her mouth on my *** Cause I couldn't open my eyes as she did it She passed her soft fingers on my chest Luckily I hadn't on my fitting vest Crawled about my belly like a worm While my ****** heart beat loud as a drum She said something I didn't hear Because passion had blocked my ear She then undid my belt and my trousers Quicker than all internet browsers Then...then put the muzzle in her mouth Was she aware of the bullet, I doubt She cleared all the rust through the years While in pleasure I cried happy tears She knew how to hold the whistle and blow Between where she knelt down low Her palm around me was a soft tight glove Felt she's the one that I deserved Like a snake she crawled back up And astride the volcanic plug sat Asap Not afraid of the sharp edges causing harm She kissed me violently and hurt my gum I just couldn't care less at such a moment Of a soothing ride, a welcome torment Soon overtaken by my inner animal I realized I could not take it anymore And took charge of the walk to heaven While the clock alarmed, think eleven She arched tout like a hunters bow And her eyes brightly seemed to glow My journey deep was careful and slow But the return as swift as Pacman's blow I loved the way she clawed her nails Into me, she reopened all my wells I wanted to take her for a longer ride But the wave of passion killed me,I died Even when we were done I remained inside Watching her skin as pale as transfiguration Out of the joy we had shared, I'm glad I received my emotional resurrection*
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52
I ordered this, clean wood box Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift. I would say it was the coffin of a ****** Or a square baby Were there not such a din in it. The box is locked, it is dangerous. I have to live with it overnight And I can't keep away from it. There are no windows, so I can't see what is in there. There is only a little grid, no exit. I put my eye to the grid. It is dark, dark, With the swarmy feeling of African hands Minute and shrunk for export, Black on black, angrily clambering. How can I let them out? It is the noise that appalls me most of all, The unintelligible syllables. It is like a Roman mob, Small, taken one by one, but my god, together! I lay my ear to furious Latin. I am not a Caesar. I have simply ordered a box of maniacs. They can be sent back. They can die, I need feed them nothing, I am the owner. I wonder how hungry they are. I wonder if they would forget me If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree. There is the laburnum, its blond colonnades, And the petticoats of the cherry. They might ignore me immediately In my moon suit and funeral veil. I am no source of honey So why should they turn on me? Tomorrow I will be sweet God, I will set them free. The box is only temporary.
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3.8k
The Arrival Of The Bee Box
*Ladies & Gentlemen, behold! Listen to the story I have to share. A fantasy from future.* Someday in Future Setting: The underground metro train Characters: She & me Me: Now our stop is at the end, darling. She: I'd just relax until we reach then, dear. Me: How're you going to do that, standing? She: I've my personal pillar to hold on to for relaxing, you know - I don't fear... Me: ...and that is me? She: Yes & no! I look clueless and she lets out a laughter barely audible to others in the metro train. She: You yourself are not the pillar but you've the pillar! I blush big time and turn tomato-red, her delicately-soft hands come pull my cheeks and by now I am able to duly respond as the man. Me: Oh I see! So madam is in a good mood to flirt. Good-good, even I was starting to get bored hearing only to the harsh sound of the metro train on the track, let us recollect the previous night. She: Sure, you bear the onus of starting the account and I'll recount the ending as we reach home. Me: Alright then, here we go. Low voices Me: Darling I started it all, I came from the showers, I carried a seductive grin, As I moved forwards, You started to fall, Not caring where you fell towards. And you fell in my arms, I held you softly as my baby, As you're precious to me like one. I then lifted you in my arms, You had a soft glowing smile on your lips. Then I laid you on the bed, You appeared like Aphrodite. The white gown was off in a jiffy, You looked at my towel's knot, And you undid it the next. She: As the pillar was unveiled, I hoisted myself on it, And we came together. Me: Now the station seems closer, let us conclude our recounting Friday night. (Looking at my watch) She: Yes, we have a night every other night. (Winks) Me: I love you, honey! (I smile) She: Not more than me! (Her smile is more brilliant) By now the train approaches our stop and we are smiling as we dismount the train. On our minds for a sleepless Saturday night we are hatching a beautiful plan.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
I Love You, Honey!
*Ladies & Gentlemen, behold! Listen to the story I have to share. A fantasy from future.* Someday in Future Setting: The underground metro train Characters: She & me Me: Now our stop is at the end, darling. She: I'd just relax until we reach then, dear. Me: How're you going to do that, standing? She: I've my personal pillar to hold on to for relaxing, you know - I don't fear... Me: ...and that is me? She: Yes & no! I look clueless and she lets out a laughter barely audible to others in the metro train. She: You yourself are not the pillar but you've the pillar! I blush big time and turn tomato-red, her delicately-soft hands come pull my cheeks and by now I am able to duly respond as the man. Me: Oh I see! So madam is in a good mood to flirt. Good-good, even I was starting to get bored hearing only to the harsh sound of the metro train on the track, let us recollect the previous night. She: Sure, you bear the onus of starting the account and I'll recount the ending as we reach home. Me: Alright then, here we go. Low voices Me: Darling I started it all, I came from the showers, I carried a seductive grin, As I moved forwards, You started to fall, Not caring where you fell towards. And you fell in my arms, I held you softly as my baby, As you're precious to me like one. I then lifted you in my arms, You had a soft glowing smile on your lips. Then I laid you on the bed, You appeared like Aphrodite. The white gown was off in a jiffy, You looked at my towel's knot, And you undid it the next. She: As the pillar was unveiled, I hoisted myself on it, And we came together. Me: Now the station seems closer, let us conclude our recounting Friday night. (Looking at my watch) She: Yes, we have a night every other night. (Winks) Me: I love you, honey! (I smile) She: Not more than me! (Her smile is more brilliant) By now the train approaches our stop and we are smiling as we dismount the train. On our minds for a sleepless Saturday night we are hatching a beautiful plan.
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44
Muck bit her ivory nightgown, as if earth hungering after her...the delicate collapse of a napkin,she. Hours poured atop her head, her shaggy, silvery mane suspended--its reluctant bounce captured at midpoint...as a spiderweb under ultraviolet light. Desert sands lost in contemplation, reminiscent of her flesh--divulge her core as she sleeps in a fetal position. Her body spasms awkwardly...its will visibly slowed from initial motion. As the paralysis experienced by prey amid the astral annals of nightmares. She'll rise into that shine, wonder at the nightmare's symbology...talk to her garden--whilst thinking of her time to come. Silkworm breached the parcel of time, its cocooned inertia coarsed through the opalescent eye of God to Godhood. Of time's ruination redeemed in a solitary work...cupped airless the unbridled form of a trapezist spent itself. Opened and closed somersaults atripped a piece of said space... nothingness regenerated to move, to take step of itself. A self-argumentative abstraction glowed...undid its silken flag-- firmly planted in an undiscovered region...her time come.
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Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 7:45 PM UTC
Muck Bit Her Ivory Nightgown
Felt so long like Eros sat in prison, let my blood pale from crimson. Until you cast your shadow to my sun made of all sweet smelling things and spirits risen. Undid my braid every tangled knot, and auburn strand; one by one. I could not define safety, until with you I laid and showed, to my temple, the steel of gun see now, even fear is manmade as the legs of fate's circle on run. Do you know what it is to feel complete and still sing the lonely song of sailors? As your darling walks with slow feet what thoughts of me, will you savor? Would never need to see another sky: by makers, so long as I could look into your eyes, so blue, so sweet. I wish I could say I love you but I am so new and weak. So I sit, and stir, and tear up papers; wait another rosy day for you to speak. I wish I could say I love you and you would repeat the words, caught between cheek.
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Aug 27, 2021
Aug 27, 2021 at 3:34 AM UTC
I wish I could say I Love You.
And they say she’s got the fellas Well aint she just a Bella Wasted in the dawns of time Another margarita, another lime But she knows she’s got her mother Who won’t put up with another Record score of sixty nine She keeps them waiting in a line She won’t let down her guard again Won’t be easy for another pen Fifteen, she’s off the rack Now she’s gotta make it back Alive, in her tattered dress Walking alone on the streets a mess Listening to drunken shouts Just trying to find her way out Head up tall Make sure you don’t fall Promise yourself you’ll be better Next time they’ll be no more keggers Because this girl is not who you are You don’t ditch your friends for a guy at the bar It’s time to get your **** together kid Because next time may not be undid
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Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 11:48 PM UTC
nightlife.
I think all I have ever created is compensation For being such a fool. I had him; ensnared him with my womanly ways. I never realized he was always mine And turned away thinking I was doing the right thing. I sought someone else; I found him. I was horrified when I discovered It was the love I always wanted— And the love that undid me. What I wanted was fleeting, was overwhelming in-the-moment out-of-body experience. Now all I want is the metaphorical dog and house and white picket fence. But it’s not those material items I crave; It’s the permanence that accompanies that dedication and level of love. I don’t want it to only last a moment and disappear like sand sifting through the hourglass; I don’t want to feel out of my body Any more. I just want someone I love who wants me too. This is the curse of unrequited love. This is the gift of Eve to womankind. I was tempted, and I have no more what I could have had for eternity.
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
The moment I wanted a white picket fence.
Hell, what can i say,It's always been this way. we connect randomly.(is this seat taken?) break off.(stupid boy|girl segregation) diverge. (across bus aisles) recconnect. (hugs before you leave, subtle smiles) risk.(hopped, hid, rode again in my seat those last few miles) . create boundaries.(best friend, I'm with her, you're with him) overstep(i daydream of you...) overstep.(i dreamed of you last night...) overstep (i dreamed of you last night again...) recreate.(i ignore you when you speak, what was that last thing you said?) walk on blind faith, a little too quickly.(we took two days to talk this over, two weeks to get into bed) remember we are friends amidst all this ( i did) and suddenly all the feelings, (or thoughts spinning in my head) the ones that are thretening to surge freely through me, (undo me) no restraint, (undid) threating to take over my actions, my heart, my affections (am i mislead?) (theyve already strangled my reason)(I'm brainless, because of you, undead) experience a subtle but calming shift( smootheeee like thisssss) when i remember(what we said) I suddenly understand(this isn't wonderland) why it is I don't want to leave(friends fight, we are friends) you mean so much more to me(than i could even begin to express) than emotions high arguing and a dozennn days ive cried( they are nothing compared to it) you are my friend, (im beginning to think best) and well, i just... i want you here, (just like this)
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Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 5:02 PM UTC
I just, want you here, just like this.
When once the twilight locks no longer Locked in the long worm of my finger Nor ****** the sea that sped about my fist, The mouth of time ****** like a sponge, The milky acid on each hinge, And swallowed dry the waters of the breast. When the galactic sea was ****** And all the dry seabed unlocked, I sent my creature scouting on the globe, That globe itself of hair and bone That, sewn to me by nerve and brain, Had stringed my flask of matter to his rib. My fuses are timed to charge his heart, He blew like powder to the light And held a little sabbath with the sun, But when the stars, assuming shape, Drew in his eyes the straws of sleep He drowned his father's magics in a dream. All issue armoured, of the grave, The redhaired cancer still alive, The cataracted eyes that filmed their cloth; Some dead undid their bushy jaws, And bags of blood let out their flies; He had by heart the Christ-cross-row of death. Sleep navigates the tides of time; The dry Sargasso of the tomb Gives up its dead to such a working sea; And sleep rolls mute above the beds Where fishes' food is fed the shades Who periscope through flowers to the sky. When once the twilight screws were turned, And mother milk was stiff as sand, I sent my own ambassador to light; By trick or chance he fell asleep And conjured up a carcass shape To rob me of my fluids in his heart. Awake, my sleeper, to the sun, A worker in the morning town, And leave the poppied pickthank where he lies; The fences of the light are down, All but the briskest riders thrown And worlds hang on the trees.
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2k
When Once The Twilight Locks No Longer
When once the twilight locks no longer Locked in the long worm of my finger Nor ****** the sea that sped about my fist, The mouth of time ****** like a sponge, The milky acid on each hinge, And swallowed dry the waters of the breast. When the galactic sea was ****** And all the dry seabed unlocked, I sent my creature scouting on the globe, That globe itself of hair and bone That, sewn to me by nerve and brain, Had stringed my flask of matter to his rib. My fuses are timed to charge his heart, He blew like powder to the light And held a little sabbath with the sun, But when the stars, assuming shape, Drew in his eyes the straws of sleep He drowned his father's magics in a dream. All issue armoured, of the grave, The redhaired cancer still alive, The cataracted eyes that filmed their cloth; Some dead undid their bushy jaws, And bags of blood let out their flies; He had by heart the Christ-cross-row of death. Sleep navigates the tides of time; The dry Sargasso of the tomb Gives up its dead to such a working sea; And sleep rolls mute above the beds Where fishes' food is fed the shades Who periscope through flowers to the sky. When once the twilight screws were turned, And mother milk was stiff as sand, I sent my own ambassador to light; By trick or chance he fell asleep And conjured up a carcass shape To rob me of my fluids in his heart. Awake, my sleeper, to the sun, A worker in the morning town, And leave the poppied pickthank where he lies; The fences of the light are down, All but the briskest riders thrown And worlds hang on the trees.
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42
It took One frown To undo All my sweet gestures! In a moment off-guard A slipped word Undid All my good deed! It’s so hard Though a lovebird I can’t always find, The right look And the right word To sit firmly in your mind!
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 7:39 AM UTC
Can't Make It
Your shirts hang drying that we washed, my son. I recall you wearing them, each and every one. They hang there lonesome now, sad relics of your wardrobe, cast-offs of a life gone too soon, cut short, live long after me, I thought. I like the patterns, the colours, too, but on seeing them, I’m remembered sadly, of lovely you. I sniff along the cloth, feel the buttons that you once did up, undid, your fingers touch and hug and feel, the pain, of that, too much. The shirts hang innocent, unaware, lifeless, unworn and cold, I can feel them, but want you to hold. Maybe I’ll wear the shirts to give them back some life, some warmth, fill them out, give them body to embrace, pretend to them I’m you, act out the lie, not reveal to them, not tell them, I watched you die.
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
YOUR SHIRTS.
She speaks privately from between her legs! Children scattered about like luke-warm dregs of life sipped tentatively from the mug made of her **** and the carefully shorn rug once atop her ***** but now replaced with a clever thong and further defaced by empty words with which no one bothers; like abandoned motherhood and absent fathers. Once, long ago, the seas calmed down if they viewed a full cuntal frown But now what power yet remains is washed away and the Tide abstains from noticing at all that clever ****** of hip carried power, now just animal lust. God with His magnanimous decree gave us dominion over all we see and gave it despite our rampant ***** waggling ******* and ***** locks! But our mouths undid us, to the core, flung man to the ground and named woman ***** So now emblazoned for all to see, above the ***** phallic-ly, the final victim of original sin: The Unattended Child!  What does he win? Well, there it is, written bold above the entrance to the exit of old “Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy” Cut the umbilical!  ***** the father!   **** the mommy! And over coffee, we’ll share some snickers about the ****** made of her knickers.                 She used to speak from between her legs! Her **** shouted down oceans and now it begs for mere notice in words writ small and forgets why she wears underwear at all. "Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy. This funny and beautiful design features a vintange inspired cup of espresso." an ad for thong underwear, presumably for women
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Unattended Children
She speaks privately from between her legs! Children scattered about like luke-warm dregs of life sipped tentatively from the mug made of her **** and the carefully shorn rug once atop her ***** but now replaced with a clever thong and further defaced by empty words with which no one bothers; like abandoned motherhood and absent fathers. Once, long ago, the seas calmed down if they viewed a full cuntal frown But now what power yet remains is washed away and the Tide abstains from noticing at all that clever ****** of hip carried power, now just animal lust. God with His magnanimous decree gave us dominion over all we see and gave it despite our rampant ***** waggling ******* and ***** locks! But our mouths undid us, to the core, flung man to the ground and named woman ***** So now emblazoned for all to see, above the ***** phallic-ly, the final victim of original sin: The Unattended Child!  What does he win? Well, there it is, written bold above the entrance to the exit of old “Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy” Cut the umbilical!  ***** the father!   **** the mommy! And over coffee, we’ll share some snickers about the ****** made of her knickers.                 She used to speak from between her legs! Her **** shouted down oceans and now it begs for mere notice in words writ small and forgets why she wears underwear at all. "Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy. This funny and beautiful design features a vintange inspired cup of espresso." an ad for thong underwear, presumably for women
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36
I saw you at the county fair & I knew I had to have you. Your skin so fair, you walked as if you were on air, every eye was upon you as the minstrel played romance. Our eyes spoke volumes, I was consumed by your loveliness & quickly we agreed to meet secretly in the shadows, just up the cobblestoned street. When the sun set & the stars showed their pretty little faces, I gathered myself & headed toward that place, the place of our fiery embrace. I melted again when I saw you & held you ever so close. my fingers undid your lace & I was swept into you, determined to leave my mark. The noises we made startled the meadowlarks & I filled you with my good pleasure. O how I love the county, fair maiden!
0
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
I Love The County, Fair Maiden
Mumble Rappers be on something like: "gotta bad b...she ain't be walking righ°..." Double-dipping, No-stopping Frames-dropping, No-clipping, wutta glitchy sight .. I've been sitting super stealthy cypher. I've been running with my do-or-die fir. [Careful] I would die for what What you would eye for Cloudy with the red eye Insight, eyesore I swore, pops, that I'd be different Spec ops man, Mine's been misting Foggy froggy frothing when I spit distance 3eyes shifting 2Split  da difference   Any1 asking Meh: How have I been getting....? Guru Minds have been sitting squarely as a cube in cypher Make mah breathes for human CubanS matter as I decypher : Life is living truth or daring to choose to live   or die for ... Ai just a silly Scyth0r snipping sidebar sowings   stow no baggage. That's what I'd be towing. Rats staining, stinging pocked and potent. Out  of the Cabbage patch that I've been growing 01011011 01111101 01111011 00101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01010000 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01101001 01100011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101100 00001010 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01101111 00100000 01100100 01100101 01101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01111101 01111011 01011101 Sorry to be blunt, man .... it's a sour twist, Undid the trap mode went too lavish >> the-Gentle-Ghost-o'-ghetto hopes at most to let go, Building out hell bricks Pave- too -close -to -level<< it's all in the mental, in the same lane stack Shake a Lil when treble trains track, Shake, shake when the train track, shake shake, shake when it trains shake when the trains track. I swear, it's not a bad tick. Just bring the brains back. It's not a bad tick. Just get the brains back it's not a bad tick. The brains back~ just bring the brains back bring the brains back Bear with me. >>Music turned up. Are the windows cracked?<< ..............Who should have brought the show...vel? And the WAXWHALESTACK.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
0
Dec 9, 2023
Dec 9, 2023 at 12:28 PM UTC
Silly Scyther Snippin
Mumble Rappers be on something like: "gotta bad b...she ain't be walking righ°..." Double-dipping, No-stopping Frames-dropping, No-clipping, wutta glitchy sight .. I've been sitting super stealthy cypher. I've been running with my do-or-die fir. [Careful] I would die for what What you would eye for Cloudy with the red eye Insight, eyesore I swore, pops, that I'd be different Spec ops man, Mine's been misting Foggy froggy frothing when I spit distance 3eyes shifting 2Split  da difference   Any1 asking Meh: How have I been getting....? Guru Minds have been sitting squarely as a cube in cypher Make mah breathes for human CubanS matter as I decypher : Life is living truth or daring to choose to live   or die for ... Ai just a silly Scyth0r snipping sidebar sowings   stow no baggage. That's what I'd be towing. Rats staining, stinging pocked and potent. Out  of the Cabbage patch that I've been growing 01011011 01111101 01111011 00101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01010000 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01101001 01100011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101100 00001010 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01101111 00100000 01100100 01100101 01101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01111101 01111011 01011101 Sorry to be blunt, man .... it's a sour twist, Undid the trap mode went too lavish >> the-Gentle-Ghost-o'-ghetto hopes at most to let go, Building out hell bricks Pave- too -close -to -level<< it's all in the mental, in the same lane stack Shake a Lil when treble trains track, Shake, shake when the train track, shake shake, shake when it trains shake when the trains track. I swear, it's not a bad tick. Just bring the brains back. It's not a bad tick. Just get the brains back it's not a bad tick. The brains back~ just bring the brains back bring the brains back Bear with me. >>Music turned up. Are the windows cracked?<< ..............Who should have brought the show...vel? And the WAXWHALESTACK.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
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59
the basement is full of smoke. i'm hiding from my mother, clutching a half-full pack a girl gave me before i left. you are here like vapor. like displaced sound, a crash from behind while i watch fireworks, unnoticed sensation, a spider on the neck while i brush my hair.you are always here, the smell of nail polish after the red has dried.i can hardly remember how you really were, how i really felt - you're a strange reaction, waking up crying and feeling calm.you were not true to me; true to yourself but never me {or maybe i never noticed, angry that you changed.} your memory lives in the nape of my neck, pained and sore, stiff after sleeping with my head bent in shame.you are perfume, thirty bottles, thirty people you wanted to be, thirty scents mixing and souring in my room.my own blood before i met you, dry rust on paper, a spell i stopped believing in before i could finish. the stars undid themselves when i struck a match. the moon embraced me when i prayed, and now i burn my fingers on lighters and try not to cry over cold moons. rituals were comfort.incense smoke, quartz in the mouth.maybe i never truly believed but meaning is appealing, solid, warm weight to fill uncertainty's pit.maybe you were the same.you filled me, made me feel meaningful, needed me. sobbed as you tried to eat me alive, i cant blame you. we all need something - you need to be coddled.you need a thousand mothers taking every blow for you. i need to be idolized, worshiped, constantly assured that i am wanted but not needed. we're both selfish, we're both jealous. monsters in human skins, using each other and killing ourselves. green-eyed and growling.
0
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
new york city, november 24, 1966
the basement is full of smoke. i'm hiding from my mother, clutching a half-full pack a girl gave me before i left. you are here like vapor. like displaced sound, a crash from behind while i watch fireworks, unnoticed sensation, a spider on the neck while i brush my hair.you are always here, the smell of nail polish after the red has dried.i can hardly remember how you really were, how i really felt - you're a strange reaction, waking up crying and feeling calm.you were not true to me; true to yourself but never me {or maybe i never noticed, angry that you changed.} your memory lives in the nape of my neck, pained and sore, stiff after sleeping with my head bent in shame.you are perfume, thirty bottles, thirty people you wanted to be, thirty scents mixing and souring in my room.my own blood before i met you, dry rust on paper, a spell i stopped believing in before i could finish. the stars undid themselves when i struck a match. the moon embraced me when i prayed, and now i burn my fingers on lighters and try not to cry over cold moons. rituals were comfort.incense smoke, quartz in the mouth.maybe i never truly believed but meaning is appealing, solid, warm weight to fill uncertainty's pit.maybe you were the same.you filled me, made me feel meaningful, needed me. sobbed as you tried to eat me alive, i cant blame you. we all need something - you need to be coddled.you need a thousand mothers taking every blow for you. i need to be idolized, worshiped, constantly assured that i am wanted but not needed. we're both selfish, we're both jealous. monsters in human skins, using each other and killing ourselves. green-eyed and growling.
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39
I gotta go to the store where on the corner stands a ***** She dresses kinda **** but her jeans are all tore Prolly from the last time she was kneeling on the floor **** it ima say hi cause im a little bored Hey whatsup Its just my luck But before u duck Can i get a **** I dont wanna **** Cause i only gotta buck If i wasn't such a schmuck Ud get stuck As we **** So we get back to my place Undid her shirt made of lace She takes off her ******* and tries to sit on my face Whooaaaaaa Slof down lil lady this isn't a race Me lickin' you down Hell No it ain't the case Not the time nor the place Maybe if your ***** was still an ace But after all your work it's just a disgrace Problem is ur a beautiful woman, a pussly like that is nothing to waste On second thought, you know what, No ill pass on that taste Are you on the pill? You better be still If not in the morning you'll be feeling real ill Your sicker than that cause u might get a thrill When you walk to the doctor and get them to **** My future little boy i was gonna name Bill I through about Will But before I knew it he's laying real still Now im starting to get angry get the **** outta my grill or ill end up dumping pieces of ur body in the water mill bury the rest on the other side of the hill An eye for an eye and a **** for a **** I dont want any drama Especially from a baby mamma Lemme breath for a minute at least gimme a comma, Ok relax mother ****** or ima spell "cide" after "homa" Lemme calm down before all this deli drama
0
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 11:27 AM UTC
The Deli...
I gotta go to the store where on the corner stands a ***** She dresses kinda **** but her jeans are all tore Prolly from the last time she was kneeling on the floor **** it ima say hi cause im a little bored Hey whatsup Its just my luck But before u duck Can i get a **** I dont wanna **** Cause i only gotta buck If i wasn't such a schmuck Ud get stuck As we **** So we get back to my place Undid her shirt made of lace She takes off her ******* and tries to sit on my face Whooaaaaaa Slof down lil lady this isn't a race Me lickin' you down Hell No it ain't the case Not the time nor the place Maybe if your ***** was still an ace But after all your work it's just a disgrace Problem is ur a beautiful woman, a pussly like that is nothing to waste On second thought, you know what, No ill pass on that taste Are you on the pill? You better be still If not in the morning you'll be feeling real ill Your sicker than that cause u might get a thrill When you walk to the doctor and get them to **** My future little boy i was gonna name Bill I through about Will But before I knew it he's laying real still Now im starting to get angry get the **** outta my grill or ill end up dumping pieces of ur body in the water mill bury the rest on the other side of the hill An eye for an eye and a **** for a **** I dont want any drama Especially from a baby mamma Lemme breath for a minute at least gimme a comma, Ok relax mother ****** or ima spell "cide" after "homa" Lemme calm down before all this deli drama
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40
We shed our gap-toothed gentleman coats and ran white skinned into a purple river, George (a weak swimmer) grabbed handfuls of reeds as the water undid a fantasy of clouds. Our feet found love with the edges of rocks and our swimming trunks unloaded the stink of chlorine into the cold bright dark light miracle of water, our reflections broken into champagne pieces and beautiful as only two laughing boys can be. How clichéd to be lost in the heart of the morning, as George sat with his orange juice like an illustration drawn by the most lighthearted of artists, a little prince against a backdrop of blooming baoabs that shrugged behind him like green diamonds with the tunes of birds still clinging to their leaves. How deeply romantic I was at fourteen - too young to have read Brideshead Revisited, too old to have gazed at George’s hair and seen a simple tumble of boring blond. This was the summer that ached with everything, like a muscle throbbing during tennis reminding you you’re playing as best you can. That summer was the shimmering pause between two acts of a dismal play - our childhood not yet left behind, lingering like a tan line on the shoulders of joy. One night we drank lemonade out of brandy glasses and sat together in the biggest bath you’ve ever seen, winding our wrists together to sip from each others drinks, his hair was dark and damp at the tips and there were bubbles everywhere. Such things I remember, the gentleness of first love and the way it shapes each love to come, I’m still a sucker for blonds and a gallant lover of summers spent as they should be spent: in water baby England, with the countryside humming inside your ears, and the sunlight warming up the grass to greet your feet after swimming in rivers, and to wind down at night with a friend who is beautiful, and to kiss them just once, near the ear and only here, to wish them goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.
0
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
summer, aged 14
We shed our gap-toothed gentleman coats and ran white skinned into a purple river, George (a weak swimmer) grabbed handfuls of reeds as the water undid a fantasy of clouds. Our feet found love with the edges of rocks and our swimming trunks unloaded the stink of chlorine into the cold bright dark light miracle of water, our reflections broken into champagne pieces and beautiful as only two laughing boys can be. How clichéd to be lost in the heart of the morning, as George sat with his orange juice like an illustration drawn by the most lighthearted of artists, a little prince against a backdrop of blooming baoabs that shrugged behind him like green diamonds with the tunes of birds still clinging to their leaves. How deeply romantic I was at fourteen - too young to have read Brideshead Revisited, too old to have gazed at George’s hair and seen a simple tumble of boring blond. This was the summer that ached with everything, like a muscle throbbing during tennis reminding you you’re playing as best you can. That summer was the shimmering pause between two acts of a dismal play - our childhood not yet left behind, lingering like a tan line on the shoulders of joy. One night we drank lemonade out of brandy glasses and sat together in the biggest bath you’ve ever seen, winding our wrists together to sip from each others drinks, his hair was dark and damp at the tips and there were bubbles everywhere. Such things I remember, the gentleness of first love and the way it shapes each love to come, I’m still a sucker for blonds and a gallant lover of summers spent as they should be spent: in water baby England, with the countryside humming inside your ears, and the sunlight warming up the grass to greet your feet after swimming in rivers, and to wind down at night with a friend who is beautiful, and to kiss them just once, near the ear and only here, to wish them goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.
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42
No, you cannot heal if healing means leaving me here alone. I won't allow it. Stay close to me, hold chaos's hand. Tie your ship to mine and we'll both go down together. No, please don't heal, don't get better if better means away from me. Don't do it, you should stay and play with my fire. I started to heal once, rehab for ghost hearts and fragile bones, I patched myself up with forgiveness and rope. It came lose over time and the knots were all frayed and life undid the healing I worked so hard for. Time opens all wounds. So it's better to not try, accept there is no bandaid that will fix you, you like your broken parts and grinding gears, you can't be held together with sutures or forgiveness or rope. Don't heal. Don't leave me here, broken. Don't fall in love as I'm walking away.
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
Healing