"whimpered" poems
The landlord rented his space.
The landlord became suspicious.
He received complaints from other tenants,
Within a couple of weeks about loud music
And laughter coming from her room.
Banned from having friends in their home,
People would arrive in a van nightly during the summer.
The details of which emerged in the trial of insurance businessman,
Who was accused of helping her,
Without their knowledge.
She accused the abuse after a plea.
His mercy,
Her punishment.
‘The past is still very much a reality’ she whimpered.
Forced to watch for five months,
The wolf spoke as she faced the hearing
Without a translator.
They are forbidden to speak.
For her first 23 years, she was tortured.
Anti-social behaviour is having more than two people in his head,
Playing music so loud,
That it can be heard,
Outside of him.
The only person to feel the same resigned.
The landlord asked the hound to verify the affair.
He handed two leather-bound volumes containing a map of the marks.
It was on that day,
The landlord took the decision to leave seriously.
Once known,
He made the claim and gave no hint as to the tenant’s identity.
Up for a chance to win, We wish you safe travels.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 6:27 AM UTC
I leapt and dove into the depths of indigo
Night spilled carelessly onto my sky
Darkness smothered with tides of indigo
I almost drowned and whimpered a cry
Grappled with the vagueness of indigo
Out of the blue, I'd emerge with a heavy sigh
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
_To Polina, my anchor, through all my lives_
Between dawn and dusk
on the precipice
in shades of scarlet
stood a magnificent house
Strangers and I were enthralled
by the neon red foyer where
Francesca and Paolo welcomed us
to the house of a thousand doors
Each door an invitation
to delicious desire
each room a seduction
of perilous passion
One door opened —
three bare women holograms
drank from a small lake and
brandished wicked, feline smiles
At my feet a church of cardinals
glowing with tears, heat and sweat
whimpered in their prayers
but the pope watched from afar.
He speaks—
the mouth at once is an eye, an abyss
and a hurricane from Pandora's box
Then I am I no more — a cardinal in crimson —
but no shame or guilt guides me
when blood-red lips land on mine
"Do you not see
there is equal courage
equal purity
in giving
into
temptation—
the kind
that appals the devil
to revel
in the hurt, the open wounds,
and the agony
to dive deep—
into the depths
and say all the yeses
to embrace the darkest demons
of your soul?
Enter—
and you shall find
hell or heaven within yourself."
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
MIST CREEPING SLOWLY
The morning found
only blood & feathers.
The fox leaving
only Death
& its presence
& the gossip of the frightened chickens.
My uncle swearing
‘til the sky was blue
(early morning clouds that the sun shone through) .
An embarrassed ****
like a mad alarm clock
crying like a cartoon “cock-a-doodle-do! ”
My uncle dispatching him
with a quick kick.
“Oh yeah, and where the hell were you? ”
I take in the scene of the massacre
& whisper:
“I sure wouldn’t like to be a chicken! ”
* * *
All that next week
my uncle stalked the chicken coup
waiting for the fox
who was clever enough
not to turn up
until the eight day
driven by his hunger & his nature
she stared into my uncle’s cold metallic sight
& the evil acrid smell of a cartridge caught in flight
as both it & the fox(shot through the head)
fell dead
at my uncle’s muddied boot.
My gentle uncle delirious with Death
the frosted air
stained with his breath.
His voice almost transformed
into an animalistic hoot:
“Hey boy, betcha didn’t know I
could shoot! ”
The good side of the fox’s face
seemed to still laugh
at the very idea of Death.
I whimpered:
“I sure wouldn’t like to be a fox! ”
The countryside
brutal & Biblical
demanding
a life for a life
Yet all I could see
was Death...Death.
Priest-like...
I knelt & whispered
a quick act of contrition
to the fox’s carcase.
My uncle probably thought
I was barmy.
That night in celebration
my uncle wrung a chicken’s neck
(the chicken’s name was Patricia)
& I declined the clean
white breast
still haunted
by the chicken & the fox’s
death.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:14 PM UTC
All the times that I cried,
I thought of you
But now, I'm not crying
I can't cry anymore
You're at my feet
Begging me please
What am I supposed to do,
when the very words I whimpered, and you ignored,
come in sobs out of you?
I don't give you the privilege of being ignored
Because I've been ignored for years
No, I don't ignore you
I simply smile, but you'll see the visions in my eyes;
The visions of your future,
and my past, all because
You ignored my pleas
How could I possibly ignore
the person that's kept me up at night?
Who I can never seem to forget?
That has made a mess of my life?
That ruins every happy moment of my life?
I smile, but not like how you smiled at me
There's not enough evil in my bones
to pull off a smile that devious
I hope my smile makes you understand the extent
of what happens because you choose to
ignore teary-eyed pleas from a little girl in a tent
You don't ignore her cries
You stop
You should have stopped
Why didn't you stop
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
"We're drifting apart,"
said the earth to the moon.
"We've been through so much, hm?"
replied the moon to earth.
"It'll be glum to go,
but sadly I must now."
"Why? Please don't go away,"
begged the earth to the moon.
"I will miss you for sure."
"And I will too," said moon
and earth silently sobbed.
"4.5 billion years,
for what?" The earth whimpered.
"I can't love you anymore."
"If I could say the same."
"..."
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
One of his sick molars
was jarring, crying foul,
the root canal treatment
she did, the first, on him
made it quiet,it touched
exactly the love nerve.
Love sprouted,got rooted between
the curvy dentist and him
in exactly five sittings;
the soil was fertile.
The romantic dentist seized
his pining heart too quick,
the causes and effects of
that pain, she whispered, was similar
to what she felt , when he whimpered
leaning his head on her full *******
No reason he had, not to surmise
she didn't do everything she should,
to make his ailing tooth perfect.
Coochiecooing to her, he even
called her" the tooth fairy's baby girl"
overwhelmed she gifted him a smooch.
Each sitting fallowed
soliciting that rare,tender dental care,
on her cozy swiveling chair,
brought them closer to bouts of necking
and things more adventurous,
(may the medical ethics, pardon the pair!)
Vigorous narratives she breathlessly
reeled off, on the state of his each tooth
brought her more closer to the chair
than what professionally was expected,
her perfumed warm presence
brought aches, not necessarily dental.
A stinging pain on a root repaired
at a time his 'root canal sweet heart' was away
compels him to explore for a new chair.
The horror of horrors, it was revealed
here, a piece of broken iron implement
his sweet heart, has left within the root;
a cover up as she couldn't retrieve it
with her skills inept,
it did aggravate, caused the pain!
Isn't the betrayal of the kids,
in the name of tooth fairy,non existent
far less heinous, than a cheating like this!
could any one blame him for this,
to escape a bad tooth future, he did
the best one could; the comely tooth fairy
that found the fault and mended it
shows him his place in the
swivel chair of her heart these days!
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC
I opened my eyes once just to see if his were shut as tight as mine.
I could tell by the way he moved, how angry he was with her.
It was nothing between him and I.
It was pure emotion we couldn’t express to each other without imitating the act of making love.
We were the only ones left there for the other
or maybe we were just there.
Probability.
I do not love him.
…but he breathed like you. Kissed like you.
He was built like you, cried like you.
I hope you understand.
It was my only release.
It was not affection for each other that drove us into such a passionate entanglement but the restrained love we had for each of you.
The Anger. The Sadness. The Loneliness.
We were open journals,
and we filled each other with feelings that words could not express.
…I missed you so much.
He’s the only one who could ever understand how much I did.
While our bodies were dripping with shame,
what else could we have done?
I felt his feelings for her and they broke my heart.
There was no stopping.
The tighter he held,
the softer he whimpered,
the more it pulled me in.
The more I understood the less alone I felt.
This dismal place became less painful.
I was not out to hurt you.
It did not bloom from spite or revenge.
Not for you.
While his body did grind into mine,
I felt the pain of his anatomy and I used it against myself.
His body was my only way to repair and destroy myself all at once.
It was pleasurable due to the dream I had woven into it,
and I could feel his muscles forgiving me.
Forgiving her.
I wonder what he felt come from mine.
Relief, I hope.
Once the sweat and tears had dried,
and our bodies lay throbbing and limp
there was a sense of calm neither of us had ever experienced.
Although I’ll never be able to tell you how I feel,
I know I confessed everything I could that day with my writhing
and with my heat.
It was all for you.
Even though we did not let it happen through love or adoration
it was not meaningless.
Our souls confided in and approved of our scene.
That’s all I needed.
For it to be known I did not cheat.
I did not cheat you and I did not cheat myself.
Now, I don’t think I could love you as much as I do now had it not happened.
I found us that day.
Buried beneath years reconstruction and restriction.
More importantly, I found myself.
Lodged in between the freezing of time and heartache.
I’ll miss my innocence, but not my ignorance.
I opened my eyes just to see if his eyes were shut as tight as mine.
I had never felt so utterly complete.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC
Static whimpered then, now
was a moment, is and will be.
But in my deeper blue, waits a
Sapphire cesspool; waste and ivory
the Isle of Man, wades and drowns
silk swollen in the silence of still water,
through Hesperian greed and the tide
of golden apples.
In wandering, the cicada and cypress
grew in a moment's swan song,
Paradise was a pyre, and it was Winter
and the modern world.
And in what days of one day
would the enchantment bring-- of
the red faces and quivering tongues?
And what would the harpie bring--
icy tendrils of Spring to cool the flame?
A wretched smile, of the witness
blackened, knelt cradling his
head in his hands.
and in that moment, I was a lost man,
a lost man,
And then the happiest on the face of the Earth:
Now, the night is shallow.
****** is a breath, Eros is breathing, I am still.
Still
caught in the net of waking dreams,
when a binary sunset births the piercing tone,
of frequency high and ears hollow:
I was on my back, floating
and Death stood waiting
at the end.
Chariot yoked, pinion on pinion,
I gritted my teeth, unfurled my wings
and wept-- the mind is vengeance
As cruelty is the Mother of love.
and Now
stands waiting,
in the memory of himself.
A war is waged each moment,
with the echo of forever:
soul for soul,
talon for talon.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 1:03 AM UTC
I think I felt my spine break
As I clutched my heart
As if an irregular beat
Had tied nooses round my arteries
And cracked my bones apart
I choked on my gasps
I whimpered into my sheets
I bled through my sleeve
Until I passed out
It’s just another dream
Should have known better than to hope
On hollow words
Sent to and from two dead birds
I can’t believe I ******* thought
You were an end
And I was a means worth living for
How ******* naive of me?
How ******* naive
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 8:46 AM UTC
She’s a Poem
He’s an Invisible Ink
She’s a Love Ballad
He’s a Vocal Less Echo
She’s a Soothing Lullaby
He’s a Muted Lyric
She's a Warm Breeze
He's a Whimpered Wind
She’s a Wished Rain
He’s a Thirst in Desert
She’s a Flying Dream
He’s a Falling Demon
She’s Nourishing on Pages
He's Dissolving into Ink
As if, Final Chapter of His Book in a Making?
She May Breathe Forever in His Silent Echoes...
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
We used to be so honest,
so pure,
so oblivious
and full of life.
Our love became the definition of sunrise awes,
the sweet smell of fresh rain,
the echo of a child's laugh and
the first flight of a newborn bird.
We became the melancholy
of naive endeavours
wrapped in raw emotions.
Our love was real; factual, in fact and
I refuse to believe any less.
But that has all dissolved now;
disintegrated with the wind,
set with the sun,
thundered the clouds
with fearful flashes of dangerous light
and whimpered every soul
who has lost something they've loved.
We are no longer built on sweet smiles
or tempted impulses;
we are the epitome of sulking stares
and avoiding glances.
We are civil, but we are also tense.
We are the tightness of our muscles
in this predicament of uncertainty.
And that is what we've become:
completely and utterly uncertain,
which is quite contradictory
to the confidence of our emotions
trailing back to the months before.
We are touch, but be are also sight and scent.
We are all the senses masked by sweet pride.
We are a tempest of emotions
dancing to the rhythm
of our eternally thriving hearts.
And though we are inevitably wrong,
moving to different beats of similar drums,
our recital of pirouettes has managed
to create something beautiful.
- g.d.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Ineffable: Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words; Too sacred to be uttered.
-------------------------–-------—-------------------------------------------------------------
The whimpered cries of the dying
in the rubble of Bangladeshi avarice,
announcing we were worthy of life,
to which we think to ourselves,
agreed upon
with our,
a whispery, silent
amen.
The still alive cries of children,
tornado-tormented parents screaming unfair,
teachers body shielding their charges, whispering
save us Lord, from your inventive toys,
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
But here comes the Oklahoma tornadoes again,
now four more dead in Houston,
selecting the innocent, the brave,
logic in any of this, none,
nonsensical at its worst
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
~~~~~
The first I-am-alive cries
of new born lungs,
I have grandson, stain-less, perfect,
recovering in the stainless steel delivery room,
I hear the all babies in the neo-natal unit in unison
pronouncing a Hebrew blessing,
the Shecheyanu...
(Blessed are You, Lord our God, Master of the universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and has brought us to these special moments)
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
These unspoken poem devotions of adoration
of the sleeping chamber, that cannot
be heard or answered for they're dreamt and
perchance in the morning thankfully recalled,
enough to be transcribed,
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
Ineffable.
A day, just another supplying an average day
to the mass of average.
Birth + Death = an average day.
I thank a God for the
birth of a newborn perfection
On this day the newspapers report
about silence of the God others pray to,
could be the same deity,
reporting that in his holy places,
Jew spits upon Jew,
Muslims usurp Christian lives,
all for none,
all forgetting in
whose image they were created.
to which we cannot say nor think
anything.
Ineffable.
too sacred to be uttered,
so instead of the paucity of these unuttered words,
know that each tear in
the reservoir of my eyes
is my unspoken poem prayer.,
my amen.
*Instead of answering
amen out loud,
wipe my eyes
with your fingertips,
silently.*
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
in ancient times
in hidden places
there lived a tribe
of small green faces
seldom seen by the human eye
these beings in fact were not always kind
a midsummers evening
when the moon was full
though hidden by clouds
the night was rather dull
a traveller walking home
tired and weak
saw a spot by a tree
and took a seat
he closed his eyes
and off he fell
into a world of dreams and secrets
so he could recover well
he dreamt of his daughter
pure and new
how he wished he was with her
and her mother too
but the dream took a twist
with an image too dark
for me to repeat
he awoke with a spark
panic in his blood
and a knot in his chest
he stood to continue
after his interrupted rest
but confusion then filled him
as he looked around
and did not recognise his surroundings
was this where he settled down?
"oh no" he whimpered
but little did he know
this was just the start
of the next few hours of woe
as very close by
not seen by his eye
were the mischievous imps
and faeries side by side
to play was all they wanted
their humour different to ours
ensuring the traveller was lost
would help them in the next few hours
as the traveller was stuck
and couldn't find his was home
which left his wife and child
unprotected; alone
around he paced
but no place he knew was found
though he wouldn't give up
and kept peering around
though at this time
the little green smirks
we're distracted by
the next part of their work
on their way to pick up the baby
a fake left in its place
would anyone notice? maybe
but the traveller grew weaker
and couldn't survive
the faeries fun almost ended
once he had died
i had to say almost
as the mother was left
not to know
that her husband was dead
and that it was not her child
that she watched grow
and we never found out
if she was ever in the know
and the impish beings
were still amused by this
and watched for a while
proud and guiltless
they giggled and laughed
at the mess they'd been making
then flew off to find
a new baby to swap for a changeling
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
1449
I thought the Train would never come—
How slow the whistle sang—
I don’t believe a peevish Bird
So whimpered for the Spring—
I taught my Heart a hundred times
Precisely what to say—
Provoking Lover, when you came
Its Treatise flew away
To hide my strategy too late
To wiser be too soon—
For miseries so halcyon
The happiness atone—
1.6k
Midnight on my mind, midnight on my mind. I followed my foot as it slipped into the dust leaving a haunted pirate ship that was going way too fast for casual conversation. The wind was relentless and yelled in my ears as I wondered why I don't own any wigs, and also, why would anyone own any wigs? I feel for my pulse and find it happily nestled behind barely there skin and a few shaky bones. My hunger never asked to be acknowledged, it just whimpered and begged behind my heels like a stray dog I've never met before. The dawn was coming, the ghosts scattered down the cat walk like spiders with flies on their mind. Spiders covered their eyes as a bruised purple sky made love to an orange blossom.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
“It’s time for bed,” was never a problem for me,
I was good at sleeping, I could do it longer than anyone else I knew and they
couldn’t wake me if they tried,
I was in over my ankles, waist, chest and head,
Five hundred pillows and a duvet that was heavy enough to suffocate all the
car horns in my mind,
I didn’t have to count the sheep so they sat there and ate grass,
Because I could pass with all the flying colours refracted in crystallised
dreams,
In the pitch black I won all the altercations against those demons that bite,
The narcoleptic warrior is champion of the night, the steady rise and fall of
her chest, the flutter of twitching lashes like spiders legs, arms drawn
tight around ******* and waist for protection against the ties that bind,
It’s a **** art,
But I didn’t realise my excellence was subjective,
For my parents it was the ****** in the night,
Fox screams that would send them running to my side, only to find a steady
heartbeat and lethargic child, head to the pillow and snoring,
For friends and family who came to stay, for them it was wide eyed, white
knuckled, lying awake and clutching the sheets as I cried and whimpered in
the next room,
Trauma spilling over catatonic lips in the most wretched of yelling, pulled
out in a long, choking strings of invisible nightmare,
For my sister, it was ***** ‘cow’, **** and all the other curses that
I kicked or hit her with in my minefield of a sleeping pattern,
Bible versus, bolt upright, head spinning 360 degrees,
Charon won’t let me pass because someone wasn’t kind enough to put a coin
in my mouth and now I’m walking a shore I won’t remember in the morning,
I don’t remember in the morning, I’ve been buried in sleep,
Not until I see them unshaven and weary at the table, and I know they’ve been
leaking electricity,
Is it possible to be good at something if no one thinks you are?
I was good at it, once,
In over my ankles, waist, chest and head,
Five hundred pillows and a duvet heavy enough to suffocate,
To suffocate my talent, I lie back and count to ten,
Sleep mask, sleep tablet, sleep therapy, I try not to let it happen again,
I keep the nightlight on now, the sun my only sleeping scar,
How can you be good at something if no one thinks you are?
I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of it, but I’ve stopped reaching for the
pin-pricks of white light in those starry night skies,
And now, when I lay awake in my bed, I’m afraid to close my eyes
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
He took her to his cabin up in the northern woods
so no one could hear her scream
when he tied her to the four post bed
to live out all his dreams
now she calls him Master
when he unbinds her from the bed
but still he makes her subject to
the whims inside his head
Now and then he lets her run
naked on a leash
but locks her in the spider hole
when it's time for him to teach
He knows she'll never get away
He'll make her love his hell
searching for what makes her smile
'neath his Stockholm syndrome spell
He F 'd her up and beat her down
until she finally came around
So beautiful in her black and blue
She whimpered "Master, I love you"
Then he knew
Her Stockholm love was true
He gently kissed her ****** face
and the bruises he so carefully placed
Held her in her broken disgrace
because her Stockholm love was true
Now they're always together
with their twisted violent love
He finally truly fell for her
and she can't get enough
Stockholm love!
He hits her with a rubber hose
She bites him on the thigh
scratching her name across his back
he slaps her 'til she cries
Stockholm love!
They love that they are lovers
profuse! profane! profound!
and when she finally got the chance
she tied her lover down
He loved her like no other
She understood his love
So she f 'd him up and beat him down
until they'd had enough
but he didn't comprehend
the depth of her Stockholm love
She blew him away with a shot gun blast
just so she could ***
Stockholm love!
Look out! Look out!
If you see her in your town
She won't be charmed
and she's always armed
so don't you stick around
She'll F ' you up and beat you down
Until she gets enough
Stockholm! Shot gun! Love!
Roosty
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC
It's just a *tease
*
It's just a joke
I'm sure her *wrists
*
Can take much more
For every word
that ached her heart
was written in red
within her skin
'Twas just the *cat
*
'Twas just the *diet
*
'Twas just the pills
That kept her silent
Help her soul
Her soul is fine
But save her *perception
*
From the false veracities
A *deluge of razors
*
Raid in mind
*
"I'm fat , naive and eccentric"*
Is what's behind
So the purging came
Like knights in gory battle
Relentlessly ravaging
Shattering the girl from the *inside
*
And all she ever felt
Was the absurdity
Of the gory knights
Ready to slit the thread of life
Blinded by the agonizing relief
She lost her mind to perfection
And ‘twas only then when
*She whimpered in bitter regret
*
Because It was just your *tease
*
And It was just your *joke
*
That emboldened the knights
to make her think happiness is just a hoax
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
Pay attention everyone said Lilliput
I have an important announcement
We're going to have a wonderful picnic
For our family on Thursday , poppits only
The groans were heard all over the palace
Are we riding there , asked Horsey Anne
No we jolly well are not
And you scrum half Zara , are not either
We're motorcading it , without staff
Another really loud royal moan
We are each taking everything we need
And that includes you ex pork of York
'OOHH NNOO' she gurgly grunted
Less of that , and NO toe suckers allowed
Nor arrive in a kiddies helicopter either
And you Wills missus more clothing
You make my blue blood run cold
Next Thursday then , you picnickers
What have you brought asked Lilliput
Silver knives and forks hoarsed Anne
Paper plates grunted Flossy Fergie
Plastic cups , whimpered Wills missus
Lav paper for tissues, gidded up Zara
Big tablecloth bellowed Camilla
Have none of you brought food said Lilliput
'NO' they all mardily whinnied
None of us even thought about it
And you mumsy H.R.H. what have you brought
'NOBODY questions me , you pipsqueaks
LET'S ALL GO HOME NOW !
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
Don’t Trust
On the far side
Under the diminishing light,
With stars for eyes
We sadly say goodbye
To know you live
My very soul
Is able to survive
On such dark, preposterous lies
Your promise sealed
With your everlasting kiss on my lips
You fed me stings.
I fell into a trap
Of forever sadness
Hidden in a corner whimpered my soul.
A hurting heart with a broken seal
The fear of falling,
cloud my eyes.
To know you exist
I Die.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
I snuck into your room last night
You always leave the doors unlocked and those lights aren’t fooling anyone
The floorboards creaked with cloudy memories and I feared I’d wake you
But your mind was buried so deeply in darkness the sky could not stir you
I laid with you in silence last night
Your bones whimpered and rattled like the bitter cold wind against the windows
The ice must have certainly entered through those tiny cracks in the glass, in your shell
Crystals fell softly from the ceiling and landed upon your cheeks
I took myself away from you last night
Peeled back your eyelids gently and wiped out the cloudiness I’d left there
Soft cotton picked up the old traces left on your skin, your fingertips; under your nails
Your mouth I traced with honey and perfumes; I placed young crickets under your pillow
I left you last night
Though you walked me to the door and watched me drive away, you never once saw me
You must have been dreaming that I was merely visiting; a guest, unaware
Blind to the mirror you dressed yourself in, and adorned in the “all along”
You always were a light sleeper.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
I still feel the sting of every string
on all my parts
my ankles still bare marks
I smile as my *** stings
A fond memory of so many things
whipped with pearls
til I whimpered
wanting you to take me just a little further
Ridges rolling on pinched nips
With a slow soft touch upon my lips
Undulated hip
That wicked giggle you love so much
just around the next touch
I go silent a moment then I sigh
before you know it I am up for air
I look up and give you that stare
You know it is not over
Before this is done
You will whip my *** again
til the pearls come undone
; )
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
So there I was one Thursday night
Just kickin' back alone in my bed
Got my jammies on & pillows fluffed
With one arm tucked under my head
Staring off into space, lost in thought
'til I saw something move on my wall,
above me was a pretty big spider
skipping along frantically, trying not to fall
but fall he did, & he landed close by
as I laid there frozen with fear
at first I couldn't tell if he intended to cuddle or bite
then ever so slowly he began to draw near
his gaze settled on me with uncertainty
with his six or eight little eyes
then he brushed up against me ever so gently
I just kept still and whimpered & cried
Apparently he was smitten with me
And so chose a spot on my hand to sit
I couldn't tell him I don't like him like that
"No spider, Not even…A little…Bit."
Then I said "Spider – This could get crazy
With all of our legs entwined"
"you with eight, and me with two,
In total that's ten legs combined."
He looked really sad, and I felt kinda bad
Because a love like his is quite rare
So it went from being a one night stand
To this now complicated affair.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC