"vertebrates" poems
Boundless dusk above forsaken intuitions
Stones with ancient seeds
Yet the roots can breathe
The earthly exuberance
The naked secret of our song
That manipulates my tounge
Redden from you and I
The contact of our lips
Simulating my hunger for your groin
The nerves of my vertebrates harbor your weight
As my breast shudder from your touch
Primal delicious desires
I thirst for the fluids of your flesh
With nurture and greed
I moisten your fingers
Help you find my sensitive pearl
Relishing the trail of the garden of youth
Primal delicious desires explode in need
Delicate softness of my mystical place
Lifting my body with much response
As my fingers dance, pinch and **** at my peaks
Repeatedly as you ****** me
I gasp and beg for your caress
I shudder as I chase my wave
Reaching as I whimper into a ******
Simulating my hunger for your groin
Inflaming my pores
I enlarge you ever so slow
Working my hands holding you from behind
One swift lick of your rigid flesh
You pull in a lungful of air
Your hot flesh started to grow
I ease you into my mouth
Circling as you keep the pace
Against me you put me in deep
The sweet taste of you makes me weak
Intense intervals underneath
Between your thighs
Intoxicating the very layers of my juice
I enlarge you once again
Moist and ready
I open my sweetness just for you
As I arch down onto you
Your hands rest on my hips
I begin to feel my flower grow
A whispering rouse escapes from my lungs
We flow inside each another
Deeper in my heat
Your aggressive arousal
Provoking me to quiver
The barrier surrenders to you and I
Vivid blossoms of tranquil harmony
Through the gateway of my womanhood
As you nurish the nutrients you covet for
My protruding pale pink buds
Plump with need
I'd hollow out to place you inside
I'd linger in this universe to pave your delicious desire
As you surrender pushing me down
You penetrate my mouth once again
As you reclaim my mouth soft and pink
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
if you listen carefully
to that song that you love
so much so that it brings salt
to your eyelashes
pay attention
stare directly at the sun
or into a projector
displaying a map of canada
and witness it
the luminescence
and every tone and shade
of every chroma
flashing with every blink
the liquid provides
a spectrum unbeknownst
to vertebrates
much like blood for vision
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Why is little Musa working in these diamond dirt pits,
Digging from sunset to sundown
Where are the laws that protect children 's rights,
Why is he left unsupervised working on his own?
Musa
Struggled from early childhood with all his strengths
Now he can hardly stand because of damaged vertebrates
To know the number of free hours he worked, do the maths
Yet some lucky girl somewhere celebrates.
So
How can he labor as a slave when he's just a boy?
How can Musa smile when he has no joy?
How can he run when he has no legs,
Who will speak for him knowing he has no voice?
so
How can the opportunity box be opened without the keys
How can the world do nothing about his demise,
Especially when to stay alive he has to work for food?
How can he locate hope if he can't see,
How can celebrities adorn diamonds with bad blood,
How can this possibly be?
So
If I can lend my pen to help every child slave working,
Then my life on earth is worth living.
✍️#IvanBrookspoetry©️✍️
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
You better kiss me,
your mouth parted and lips
wrecking into the vagabond breath
that escapes from the center of what
I've been talking, and talking, and talking about
all the while you're trying to just shut me up.
So you better kiss me, kiss me
with your hands below my hips
pushing the skin from my bones
and pulling the sins from my mouth
just to spread them on our bodies.
We collide, half-inspired and arching
my back with your hands cupping the dimples
above my tailbone, jumping over my vertebrates,
reaching for my neck to press yourself, harder,
into me. Lights out, sheets to the end of the bed,
I sigh into your ears, XO. Again, and again, and again
gently until I'm bruised and ripened, soft,
pulsing on the verge, releasing our glow
crashing into you, kiss me, kiss me
you better kiss me.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
The sun would always come out a little after
the mind massacre
- follow the monsters-
i fancy lying on the
hard floor
because it is the only place
where the train of vertebrates in
my spine
can set in its rails.
i am a void
bleeding out oxidised civilisation
-holes in my head-
in a world where colours
are just fabricated memoirs
of porcelain filmstrips.
i fear that i am becoming anorexic:
my brain is splattered onto
a tiny plate
-emaciated-
where i maliciously
pick out the
soft and pretty
bits.
My tongue is cancerous,
segregating words into
Pinks' and greys'.
my heart has malformed into
an ugly blister
-swollen-
milking saps
of dismal yesterdays.
i'm swimming
alone
in an acid bath
of bleach and ice.
can't find the light
-the light-
beneath the glass
-the night-
of the
-decaying-
chandelier.
Dec 16, 2010
Dec 16, 2010 at 10:14 AM UTC
Once upon a time flesh was my lover
and I was wrapped in its sturdy density
held together by the epidermis
made mobile by
my army of Vertebrates
to stand tall
and strut
when possible.
Vain was the brain
the cerebrum conspired with the nerves
to move me to its bidding
to walk, to run, to coit
and afterwards do some grocery shopping
the heart was worse than the brain
in its dramas and insinuations of love
that made the poor gastrointestinal tract
a home
to the alien and willowy creatures
such as butterflies
tsk
and I
am shaken
to my very core
all my molars and incisors grinding itself
for its beauty is its pain
The brain was betrayed
by its own Amygdala he he he
Yes, I remember all the mechanisms working
In their own tiny kingdoms
serving the benign John or Anna or Sarah
even if it just a simple task of jacking off
if you could picture the neurons
stretching elastic to reach
that mental part
where both ****** and fear reside.
Still in the end when the earth eats you whole
like the predator it really is
all that is left is me
bare bones
a proof of greatness or mediocrity
stark and irrefutable
even if vanity denies the meaning of my bareness,
by inventing the soul.
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
Don’t tell me you know me well enough…you don’t know what’s on my mind…you don’t know exactly when and how I breathe out all the frustrations and disappointments that I allowed to debrief my existence.
Don’t state your judgments as you can…you don’t know how detrimental those are…and you have no idea how it allowed yourself to become what I think you are…
Don’t analyze my ways…you can’t be self-complacent that you can dissect me as those vertebrates this world tried to comprehend. I am me…it cannot be analyzed.
I am no other’s canvass, so don’t draw conclusions by a mere sheer glance. You haven’t been in my world. So don’t dissemble to be cognitive of my approaches. Just don’t.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 7:41 PM UTC
Wide eyes when I enter
into the dim lit porch.
As usual you were hiding
in the corner drink in hand.
Was it the past
that broke your palms
so now you don’t extend them?
Cracked ribs
beneath the cotton you wear-
everyone lives in fear
of skinned knees and bruised elbows.
What would your skin
reveal if it was marked
with my red lipstick,
like the necks of bottles
or my morning cigarette.
From the lavender dreams I live in
dawn always shines the brightest
and reminds me
that I will never know how your vertebrates
came to be.
- C.K
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Deciding to pursue religion. False harmonies. Odd years growing up. You don't care for the upset, do you? Alone I sit in the spotlight, Hallelujah. Enjoying the absence of brass. My neck restored. Relaxing vertebrates. Shoulders depressing. Newer cut. Crystal above emeralds. Dear fire, Pursue the rigging. Make us of this intrusion. Square cut chardonnay.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
The spleen can be a peculiar thing
Riding high just above the jeans
When it no longer serves its purpose
And the doctors say that it must leave
Oh how the spleen once stood so proud
With the vertebrates in the local crowd
Now we give it the old collage wave
As the doctors toss it out
Where it goes nobody knows
To spleen heaven? Do they have those?
If all dogs go to heaven
Then with spleens we can only hope
That one day we will reunite
With our missing spleens in paradise
If you ask me that sounds real nice
I just hope they keep it on ice
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
Skull, skeletal framework of the head
of vertebrates, composed of bones
or cartilage, which form a unit
that protects the brain and
some sense organs. The upper jaw,
but not the lower, is part of the skull.
The human cranium, the part that
contains the brain, is globular
and relatively large in comparison
with the face. In most other animals
the ****** portion of the skull,
including the upper teeth and the nose,
is larger than the cranium.
In humans the skull is supported
by the highest vertebra, called the atlas,
permitting nodding motion.
The atlas turns on the next-lower
vertebra, the axis, to allow
for side-to-side motion.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
It starts very subtle with a simple kind of rhythm
Then fills the room to the very brim with passion of sound
Dancing through my head with such poise and grace
It tip-toes down my spine balancing on my vertebrates
Makes it way to my throat without hesitation
Thus curling my lips into a smile so sweet
I close my eyes and drift to sleep
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
Donkey loves to eat all grass,
Donkey loves to chalk out plans.
Doggy wants to beat em up,
Colonia'h eyes wide shut!
Ratty steals and shines like gold,
Donkey loves to work for free,
Doggy wants to beat em up,
'Contradictions' come n see.
Lambie takes all sinners good,
Lambie tastes like good ole food,
Doggy eats them with all pride,
'Mythology, you may write.
Birdie drinkin' seedy tales,
Birdie talkin' insurance,
Lizzy breaks all vertebrates,
Doggy has got hate in tails.
Sweaty donkey works all day,
Ratty gives him no such pay,
Doggy loves to beat em up,
'Domination' shout and say.
Donkey needs no birdie tales,
Shout n say. Shout n say!
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
a black mass
grows at the base of my spine,
venom dancing along the vertebrates,
spreading to my brain,
rotting the pink ***** into a pile of mush
held together
by the glued fusion
of my skull.
swallow my hate like a thick, vile tonic
that slides down the throat,
slowly killing you from the inside out.
love is much too tender a
thing for my hollow
walnut shell heart.
and i, i am not tender enough for it.
i am made for far ruder,
rougher things.
i can never be a saint
for saints never burn as i do.
in the depths of my despair,
strike the anvil of my blood
and hear me scream.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 6:30 AM UTC
Intangible perception of reflecting light,
Electromagnetic radiation stimulating
Mammalian photoreceptors, six million
Cone cells densely packed, in a point three
Millimetres area known, as the fovea centralis
Residing at the core, of colour-grasping retinas.
Red, green and blue, bases of interpretation,
As all others can be matched with a combination
Of the three, for trichromats to see, distinguish
Energy of wavelengths to believe in deception,
Think that colours do exist, a gift of pigments
Inherited from early vertebrates, while fish
And birds may see Ultraviolets, as they are given
An extra one. Classification in categories,
Yellow, orange, purple, indigo and many more,
Associated with objects through wavelengths
Of light reflecting from them depending on physical
Properties deciding, whether to reflect specularly,
Scatter or absorb. Objects thus have the colour
Of the light leaving their surface, while rainbows
Continue to enchant exquisitely, the eye of the
Beholder struggling, to understand the physics
Of such bewildering apparition. Waiting for evolution
To give it a few pigments more, for it to see beyond.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 5:03 AM UTC
Through the journey, life arrives
Underwater – start their lives
Stable neither hot nor cold
Soft tiny eggs there to behold
Of such a time, lay vulnerable
For many eggs is tactical
Protection of the animal
Camouflaged with gravel
Frogs and toad, amphibian class
Eggs that float in jelly mass
From tadpole to a metamorph
The stages of which to transform
The brooding pouch of the seahorse
Protection from an outside force
Hatch of species, tiny fry
Plankton their to multiply
Yolk sac feed, young fish growing
Strengthened muscles for swimming
Insect eggs and prawn relish
Hunting groups for bigger fish
Gliding through in forward motion
Darker depths of the ocean
Water wonders plentiful
Such vertebrates are wonderful
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC