"vigor" poems
#*When all of worldly beauty's lost
When form and face have borne the cost
Of life's sojourn upon this earth
A greater glory then springs forth
When vanity is cast aside
With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride
At last a better hope I see
One anchored in eternity
When no one gives a second glance
Or offers promise of romance
I know the One whose love is true
Who looks beyond what most men do
When wit and charm have fled from thought
And company's no longer sought
There's still One friend who longs to hear
My every word, desire and fear
When awkwardness is more the rule
Than competence and being cool
His words I hear so gently spoken,
"Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken."
When those around me criticize
With disapproval in their eyes
He spreads His arms with full embrace
And wears acceptance on His face
When kindred spirit can't be found
And understanding's wayward bound
The One who knows me best will be
Thinking precious thoughts toward me
When foot is slipping, mind astray
From trying to fix things my own way
He rescues me with hourly grace
And sets me in a spacious place
When all my naught attempts at fame
Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame
I seek the fame of Him instead
Who calls my name and lifts my head
When youth and vigor fade away
And triumph seems an ancient day
My strength can rest in One who brings
Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings
When my last breath some day I take
Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make
Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall
To kiss that One who is my ALL*#
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
Rolling down St. John's Heritage Highway
after Sean, my grandson's birthday party
I belt out my pioneer song with vigor
echoing across the vast beauty,
wide open, sacred spaces
pristine vistas
Norman Rockwell cows grazing
in bygone pastures happily
moo along
Driving past the yellow deer crossing sign
Florida woodlands giddyap near the edge of the road
long brown antlers prancing to
a timeless rhythm
I hope and pray that I can somehow
kindle a spark of appreciation
in my niece and grandsons
so that they may behold
the baffling greatness
and mystery that is our universe
These young'uns are mighty attached to the
virtual reality, world and landscape
of computer technology
A sprinkling of cowboy stars flash
an omnipresent wink
Sunset bonfire explodes across
the frontier horizon
Turning the corner onto Emerson Drive
smoldering scarlet orange embers
reflecting lights
shoot fireworks, launch rockets
through an ever expanding field of vision
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
I’m strong, I can stand
against the buffeting winds
that try push me down.
(I’m weak, too easy I fall,
giving in to the pressure
that mounts from within.)
In the face of your discrimination,
I’m courageous
(I fear your abuse)
Yes, I am strong.
Though my gnarled hands
bend with age,
my roots…
(break, there is no
vigor left in me)
Sighing...my mind twists
that which should grow
into a solid foundation,
turning it into
(groans of pain,
mental anguish.
Weakness takes over)
A tired thought dances
through dim light,
bringing some joy
into the
(bleak. All I see are
shadows. Mocking shadows.)
Once I believed I had it,
an inner strength to deal
with anything.
(Like a mirage, my spirit
couldn’t grasp what it needed.)
Now I envision…
no, I see what I truly am.
My hands are wringing,
I’m cold...so cold.
I am
not
strong.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
The church field trip led to the most beautiful presence,
The elegance protrude by the sweet scent.
I dared not moved so hastily,
I dared not the red!
Glanced by the peripheral eye lids,
The red beckoned the thumping beats within my chest!
A visual decor permeates from the illuminating of the perfect circle,
And my inner most demon want to ravage it!
I wanted to devour every essense of the crescent,
Becoming one with red.
I slightly move forward so no eyes may pry onto my movement,
Like an orchestra moved to one trumpet to a violin scurry along.
Finally came side by side of the precious glimmer of the curves,
And moved my hand to palm the red's grace on the tilt of it's end.
I open wide to cusp my mouth to bite deep into it's brilliance,
In my teeth feeling the liquid and crunchy of it's body!
Sour taste of salt expand a vigor of darkness cover my mouth,
I look at the apple's plate beneath me read " Ida Red!"
Water upon my eyes,
No longer can chew any further,
I simply shallowed the chunk in my throat!
"Your elegance beckon me red, but in the end, you have seduced me to bitterness!"
I dared, Idared, ida red!
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
You're this one whole world,
created by my poetic imagination.
An ode to love,
A sound so sweet.
You're a delicate soul,
a sunset to all.
They said angels boast ethereal vigor ,
and are formed from seeds of heavenly birth.
You are one of these many seed,
you grow within my heart.
You bloom like a wildflower,
in a field of ethereal road.
And for once,
I will not pick this wildflower,
as I want it to bloom in my heart forever.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
*towering gently overflowing with heightened awareness
subtle hints of blade’s keen glittering chiseled edges
untamed rugged surface powerfully averts gale’s acrid tempest
vigor pulsating that doth persuade the cloud’s reflections
if i shall not again embrace a meager glimpse; a demure echo
of thine towering mounts my soul shall ever suffer
my spirit soars with e'er one glance of thine majestic presence
replete with reminiscence seasons stir and beg thine tender mercies
to house the changing leaves at dusk of autumn’s auburn portraits
and give birth to crystal snow cascading peripherally in winter
which melding into spring then begs thy bluffs to cover
in soft amethyst of columbine blossoming first light of summer
‘tis not paramount to scale high aloft thine peaks in escalation
for small sheer glances stamp forever with imperial impressions
and ‘tho i’ve traveled ‘round and savored nature’s varied essence
none can compare thine evergreens laced in aspens nuance
my breath is gone and shan’t return ‘til in thy shadow casting
i stand and look upon thine hallowed face the rocky mountains
©2016 janetaylor
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
Once not long ago
In the vile state of Utah,
An evil wizard
Impregnated a feral cat with
Mormon seed.
In no time at all,
A litter was born
And all of them died
But one–
Mittens the Kitten.
Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement
Because the evil wizard filled his head
With the Mormon scriptures.
When Mittens would catch and **** a mouse,
The evil wizard would pet Mittens
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
In the evenings,
Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood.
Sometimes it would coagulate,
But Mittens loved his blood.
He lapped it up
With a a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad,
And since feline-humanoids were not accepted
At Harvard Business School,
The evil wizard taught Mittens
All that he knew.
Mittens soaked up the knowledge
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Some years went by and Mittens
Became a successful business owner.
He would lap up bowls of
Other people's business
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Fast forward to the present tense
(My personal favorite tense)
And Mittens is running for president.
He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies
So that naive voters might believe that
They should vote for this cat.
He smirks and he lies
With a vigor that is borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
Captivated...
My thoughts,
you take hold of them.
I replay every moment we spend in my head.
In my mind you become that film from childhood,
filled with nostalgia and comfort.
Captivated...
My words,
if only I could find them,
I would save the sweetest for you.
Liberated...
My soul,
flowing like a brook in the summer,
you dip your toes in the stream.
I feel your presence,
and it fills me with vigor.
Liberated...
My feelings
They are now free,
free to run,
free to fly away,
to find new pastures,
Yet instead they lie next to you,
slumbering, entranced in your peace.
Forgotten...
My past,
a torn apart ship drowned in the ocean,
suddenly becomes forgotten.
Ancient hurts and ancient pains,
the wounds become fresh again,
and they become healed.
My doubts,
tearing, fighting, screaming at me.
They demand my attention.
Now their voice is lost.
Yours I hear instead,
and it calls me,
reminding me of a future,
cemented in trust.
Loved
It's a feeling,
a thought,
an emotion,
untanglible,
untarnished and true.
And now, at last,
I've found it in you.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC
Fantasizing
Feeling
Needing
Something scarce is eating at my melancholy.
As I deliberate, a vigor burns beneath my blood.
I get so warm thinking about his hands griping my hips.
My cheeks flush at the thought of his skin pressed heavily against mine.
Unalloyed ecstasy
His subsistence is the key that reveals my coffer.
I beg to feel his breathing
For him to cognize how much I want to gratify his every desire.
Slow motion when I fantasize.
A room bursting of fine riches I could erupt with gratification.
A gentleman who can pleasure me both with innocence and sensuality.
Rarity that comes as one.
He demonstrates loves configuration, he bestows complexity and certainty.
One could ****** with the thought of his supportive charisma.
I weaken at the awareness of his reciprocated needs.
The definition of love is embraced through his actions.
Bleeding perfection, he is untouchable.
He makes me feel amity.
He is the dream I want to feel as I shut my eyes at dusk.
I can sense him so close,
yet when I open my eyes
I’m alone.
He is what every women searches for.
Jul 12, 2021
Jul 12, 2021 at 10:41 PM UTC
"This heat and this blaze harm and burn me, please turn me away"
She said crying out into the endless hell, her stay
And she continued crying out,
Loud even whilst she was about, to burn to dust
Her boiling blood, gave the surroundings a smell likewise rust
Until the Lord finally answered her call
>"If you are granted this wish, will you ask for anything else at all?"<
In her pain, in her agony she could only respond
"No, I swear by your greatness, I will not go beyond (this wish) "
Her wish was fulfilled, she was out of hell,
But, this made her ask for more, would it suit her well ?
" I beg you oh Lord, bring me forward, just to the gate of paradise,
I have no other wish, I promise...please..it would be nice"
So her Lord would say: >"Didn't you promise not to ask for anything more ?
Woe to you, who swore (by my name)!
Oh you who was created from the soil...how treacious you are"
She kept begging and pondered so far
" I swear by your greatness I will not ask anymore,
Am I for you, but a useless ***** ? "
And she will continue to promise and pledge,
Until she was finally brought to the edge
The gate to paradise
When she looks inside, she would see its vigor charm and pleasure
But remembering her promise she would remain silent, in front of this treasure
Then, eventually, unable to bear this...she would scream
" Oh Lord, let me enter paradise, it is my greatest dream "
And again her Lord would add:
>" Did you not make all these oaths and pledges not to ask for anything else ? Is it not enough that I brought you out of hell ? You are still sad !
Oh, woe you, how treacious you are "
Tugged in her misery she couldn't help but feel down
Though she didn't bother to shed more tears, just frown
" Please don't make me the most miserable of your creation,
Please forgive me and make heaven my home, my final station"
And she would continue to ponder until her Lord would laugh
As he did, she was able to enter heaven, its most divine half
When she was in, it was said >" Make a wish, it will come true"<
Happiness overcame her, growing faster than bamboo!
She kept on wishing, until there was nothing left to ask for
And thus, the former human, lived in bliss
From now on and forever, never bored by this
~ Umi
Dec 25, 2017
Dec 25, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
I pass back and read late at night
write poetry,
eat yogurt, things I had sworn off and return to with ever more vigor
I am caught in an orbit,
the gravitation is just enough to keep me spinning and too much
to let me go free, I fight it,
I fight it with stolen cigarettes and late nights
and tumbling over and over on a golf course
I fight it with drinks by myself and the purchase of ridiculous items
song lyrics composed on the spot and bold winks across the room
smiley faces and pickup lines to people I should not dare
a fantasy of LSD and the hope I'll see a dragon
so I can finally stop dreaming of them.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
He awoke.
His eyes opened slowly with a purposeful slowness; an action that for most people is the beginning of their life was, for him, a procrastination.
He arose.
The floor felt cold, unwelcoming as he stumbled reluctantly to the sink. The bristles rasped against his teeth, gums bleeding out of spite.
He entered.
Breakfast—a lonely egg, boring toast—entered his body; each bite was scooped with the utilitarian vigor of one who is no longer enchanted by food, yet the relationship must continue: a compulsory marriage without option for divorce. This discomfort washed down with lemon-water.
He contemplated.
Thoughts, those musings that are feared, condemned by most and yet became the greatest of comforts for him, reminded him that one day it all would end and he would be free.
He wasted.
He stretched out his hands, offering up his life force in the daily sacrifice to the eager god that, in return, lit up with the brightness of a thousand stars that blinded him from all that he wished not to see.
He showered.
Cold water ran down his soul, icing the most superficial inflammations while taunting the deepest wounds; no matter how long he remained behind the curtain, there would be no true respite.
He returned.
The blackness beckoned. He entered willingly, surrendering himself to the dark embrace of that demonic respite, his beloved above all others.
He died, once again.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 3:28 AM UTC
The very thought of her;
has me swollen,
with eager,
to please her,
with vigor.
Feb 5, 2021
Feb 5, 2021 at 2:49 PM UTC
Hope arrived... limping severely.
The journey had been quite long,
Searching for Something to hold on to.
Hope was weak but would not give up,
There is always hope, no matter how small.
For: ”Hope springs eternal”.
Faith was greatly weakened and vulnerable,
Wounded by the words of discouragement.
Naysayers of the day were chipping away.
Faith needed help to overcome Doubt.
Lurking close by... and closing in....
Keep the Faith Baby!
Love felt lonely and threatened.
In need of some friends to lean on.
The days were long and dreary with
Hate knocking at everyone's door.
Love glimpsed Faith approaching and knew
Hope was not far behind.
Hope, Faith, Love;
Together, they formed a bond and
Began flourishing once again!
Together, they opened the door
of the heart in need of repair.
Together, they rescued a heart,
Filling it to overflowing.
Love began to grow and blossom,
Bringing Light to the darkened heart.
Hope, walking tall and standing straight,
Began to breath deep again.
Faith leaped forward with renewed vigor
to guard the Heart's door
The Three Musketeers... together...
Unstoppable... Conquer the world.
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:12 PM UTC
1. Fallow brown, like he's poured his whole soul out through the gold sieve and lies in wait to be replenished.
2. The color of the ocean. Blue, I guess, but that’s not even the half of it. All the ruggedness of the waves—forming up, breaking, and forming again like life is only the motions. Her eyes are blue, but you could hardly tell.
3. A hand-painted bowl of fresh chocolate frosting from which the most immature hands soonest get a mouthful.
4. Beautiful. Like, drop dead gorgeous. I’d dig my own grave and stick to rolling in it if she ever looked at me some type of way. Their color? I don’t know. But most of all, I dare to wonder about the bludgeoned scar between them.
5. Sturdy cobalt. Far more indicative of her steady heart than gold could ever hope to be. Still susceptible to tear, but not so easily warped by heat or stress.
6. Simply brown. No, red? It’s always been hard to tell through the fog. Truthful like the rawest earth, I’ll call her mahogany.
7. Faded blue spray paint over a slate gray wall. Forcibly muted after her years of blasting music, but there’s still that rogue twinkle to them that I pray slips through the cracks.
8. Coffee, with all the vim and vigor to make you click your heels and fall in love.
9. Unripe lime seen lazing in the shade. Not fit for a margarita just yet, but straining at the bit nonetheless.
10. Hazel, although I still don’t know what the **** that actually is. Whatever. It looks nice on her resume.
11. Green. Or were they blue? The memories of her were too wonderful, too important, that I had to let the littlest details fade away first.
12. The crystallized seafoam that made me realize I deserved to feel alive, too.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC
#*When all of worldly beauty's lost
When form and face have borne the cost
Of life's sojourn upon this earth
A greater glory then springs forth
When vanity is cast aside
With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride
At last a better hope I see
One anchored in eternity
When no one gives a second glance
Or offers promise of romance
I know the One whose love is true
Who looks beyond what most men do
When wit and charm have fled from thought
And company's no longer sought
There's still One friend who longs to hear
My every word, desire and fear
When awkwardness is more the rule
Than competence and being cool
His words I hear so gently spoken,
"Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken."
When those around me criticize
With disapproval in their eyes
He spreads His arms with full embrace
And wears acceptance on His face
When kindred spirit can't be found
And understanding's wayward bound
The One who knows me best will be
Thinking precious thoughts toward me
When foot is slipping, mind astray
From trying to fix things my own way
He rescues me with hourly grace
And sets me in a spacious place
When all my naught attempts at fame
Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame
I seek the fame of Him instead
Who calls my name and lifts my head
When youth and vigor fade away
And triumph seems an ancient day
My strength can rest in One who brings
Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings
When my last breath some day I take
Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make
Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall
To kiss that One who is my ALL*#
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
I made a gold digger, ******* full of vigor,
She’s on a hairpin trigger, out to **** my rigor.
Gold digger, in love with all the stuff,
Gold digger, she can’t get enough.
I’m tired of the way she treats his gifts,
He’ll give her a boat and away she drifts—
I can’t help I didn’t give her enough
Now he sees her lying to him—he’s calling her bluff.
He puts bracelets on her wrists
His charity persists,
He puts old hats on her head,
She’ll soon be overfed
His gifts can’t harbor the ship wreck
And look I’m sticking out my neck
Perhaps I can’t afford her
My broke *** just bores her.
Perhaps it’s more than that,
Perhaps it’s under the hat.
Perhaps her head is so done with me,
That the gifts he gives are guilt-free.
Perhaps I’m loosing sight,
Of the things they have so right,
Maybe they’re cleaning horse **** holding hands
Perhaps that’s what’s turning on her adrenal glands—
Gold digger, shallow to a point
Fishing for meaning, Heaven please anoint.
I think I get it, somewhere inside,
You pompous shallow ***** go run and hide.
Surf or skate, and fall and break
The waves will crush you over-take,
And when the good get’s going and I’m out of sight
You and He, will shrink into the night,
And in your heart, Gold digger
My purpose is always Bigger.
Because you love me without cash
But you treat me like your trash,
I’ll probably get in a car crash,
Running him over cause’ I’m just so brash.
This I will confess,
Your heads a ******* mess,
Unless you give up the gold,
Your heart and mine will grow even more cold.
I made a gold digger, ******* full of vigor,
She’s on a hairpin trigger, out to **** my rigor.
Gold digger, in love with all the stuff,
Gold digger, she can’t get enough.
Mar 19, 2011
Mar 19, 2011 at 8:02 AM UTC
The rain embraced earth,
leaving behind morning dews and vigor.
Somewhere along the distant town, I hear an aged song.
Swirl swirl, I once roam the world.
Azure sunset, Tears of spring, The world once my mount.
Mountain thoughts, River heart, Valley self,
My River is dried, ocean emptied,
Simply a Drunken fisherman in the sunset.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 5:35 AM UTC
I pass back and read late at night
write poetry,
eat yogurt, things I had sworn off and return to with ever more vigor
I am caught in an orbit,
the gravitation is just enough to keep me spinning and too much
to let me go free, I fight it,
I fight it with stolen cigarettes and late nights
and tumbling over and over on a golf course
I fight it with drinks by myself and the purchase of ridiculous items
song lyrics composed on the spot and bold winks across the room
smiley faces and pickup lines to people I should not dare
a fantasy of LSD and the hope I'll see a dragon
so I can finally stop dreaming of them.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
So breaks the sun earth's rugged chains,
Wherein rude winter bound her veins;
So grows both stream and source of price,
That lately fettered were with ice.
So naked trees get crisped heads,
And colored coats the roughest meads,
And all get vigor, youth, and spright,
That are but looked on by his light.
5.4k
People keep asking me how I’m doing.
If I’m getting better or if I’ve taken the time to process what’s happened.
If I’ve sought professional help for the metal percussions induced by my career-ending injury.
In all honesty though, professional help is futile. It can’t save me now.
I’m walking through hell and sitting in a ring of fire discussing the temperature of the searing flames would be idiotic.
Why would I allow the flames to dance along my already seared skin longer than necessary?
I know they’re hot.
I know I’m in hell.
I know the pain I feel every day is real and crippling.
Talking about this pain wouldn’t end it. It wouldn’t diminish the heat. It wouldn’t help.
I need to keep walking.
I just need to keep walking.
My crippled body can’t run anymore, but I’ve got to keep walking.
Others continue to rush by. Frantic because they’ve never felt the flames.
They aren’t familiar with the burn. The idea of being in hell is novel.
They are novices.
But life hasn’t been kind to me.
These flames are familiar with every curve of my body and they dance around with trained feet.
I’ve been in hell for years.
People continue suggesting I find the light at the end of the tunnel, but that’s near impossible here.
I’m too blinded by the brightness of a vehement flame.
Sizzling with an angry vigor for the lack of gratitude I bestowed on my past life.
It mocks the speed at which I used to be able to run. It laps sardonically at the feet that used to run cheer-inducing speeds without thanks from their owner.
But crowds don’t cheer my name anymore.
I now stand on the sidelines and watch my team play.
I burn alive for the game I used to breath and as I watch each and every game, the deep breaths of oxygen only continue alighting the fire.
There’s no way out it seems, but I will try to keep walking.
Because talking is futile.
Note:
Spinal diseases are crippling mentally and physically. Watching the body you've sculpted for years turn to mush because you can't workout is dilapidating .
The despair and helplessness are unfamiliar feelings, feelings that can't be overcome. Disease is disease and sometimes it can't be stopped. Sometimes, it just becomes a burden to bear.
And sometimes people aren't strong enough.
It's different when careers end after four years of college. An expected end, an anticipated end. But when things you love are taken from you abruptly, before your finished. The pain is exponentially worse.
Exponentially. Worse.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
Tempestuous longings from behind the screen of life’s moving picture
You stare back at me, in a glimmering, shimmering afterthought
Laid low by foregoing passion
In a moment’s torrid glimpse from our hollow reflections
Fragrant evenings during seasons of filming
Solemnly captured and revised then experienced
The all encompassing struggle with context and setting
Abides a steely night, in the rustle of autumn branches
Requiem for an unremitting beloved!
Sung in the valley between piercing peaks of sorrow
She floats through the scene as distinct aura and vague essence
An embrace from the trail of vapors and misspent gestures
All emanating from a glass of cider beneath nostrils
Gracefully, you embank on the wind of time’s shadow
And nudge my cheek with impetus and vigor
Lashing out at my skin in ambivalent revelry
As if my follicles were vacuous caverns
Catching the callous moments which flutter the ***** of hillside tents
The unearthly gusts of banality extinguish the projector’s gleam
While nature embodies your beauty furthermore
Toward the end of the pathway
And the credits of the film
And the allegro of the score
And the solitude of eternity
And the rustling of the branches
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC
For lunch I ate a cinnamon roll
and thought of you.
not because you remind me
of breakfast pastries
and not because you are particularly sweet,
it is because my flickers of memories and surges of passion
I may recollect on any random day
are laced with pieces of you.
I have loved you for far more days
than I would ever care to count
but today I've realized something new;
it is in the moments of simple remembrance,
the times when I feel a spark for
no apparent reason
that ignites the feeling once again
with more force and vigor than
on any regular day,
to flare up my memory
that I have truly loved you
I will always love you.
there is a flame within me
that will never leave my heart in darkness
because even if you leave me,
or I you,
the flame may turn to embers
but can never be extinguished.
and even in my darkest and most lonely
of times,
I eat a cinnamon roll
and remember that I will
forever have a light,
a warmth and a memory
to keep me company.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
The room is dark, filled with void.
The only thing between us is the paint and brush.
I turn your head up, lost deeply into your eyes.
My masculine voice commands,
I set you free, explore and investigate.
My body is your canvas, let them be your tool where you get lost in your world.
While I get lost in your lips and my hands explore your body.
In paintings we shall ignite a fire, we shall get intimate.
In paintings I rock your world, I dominate you.
With my lips doing justice to your body while I drill you with vigor and passion.
In paintings, we shall moan, groan and scream.
Feeling your body covered up in this beautiful artwork, the pleasure is exhilarating.
My touch soft enough to caress you, but strong enough to protect you.
I feel you, I see the hips gyrating.
In our world, I am your master and I will dominate you.
Let the paint expression express the feelings that can't be expressed.
Let the pain you feel move you and take you to another world.
In painting, you shall be set free but still my slave.
In painting, I shall drill you and your inner soul.
The scream is inevitable, the pain is the one you enjoy.
The very moment you fantasize.
May the paintings make our body flow smoothly so our souls can talk in spirits.
In painting, you, scream, moan and shout.
In painting, I breathe and I smack you out.
In painting, we get tired and pass out.
In paintings, we *** hard and loud.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:31 AM UTC