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11-24-2012, 02:35 PM
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#351
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Virgin
KathrynMartin is offline
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: Nova Scotia
Posts: 24
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Auto Alert
Sight: email
sound: exasperation
scent: something fruity
touch: lukewarm
taste: spoiled
Unimportant urgency dings,
a crow call across the perfect plane of deeds
exacts desperation.
Tepid words, crack my focus
as if I had bitten into a pear
there, on the corner and found -
nothing.
Sight: bark
Sound: a low hum
Scent: linen
Touch: cold
Taste: refreshing
Last edited by KathrynMartin : 11-25-2012 at 04:09 PM.
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11-25-2012, 06:27 PM
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#352
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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Quote:
Originally Posted by KathrynMartin
Sight: bark
Sound: a low hum
Scent: linen
Touch: cold
Taste: refreshing
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These are hard words to fit together....thinking about it!
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
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11-25-2012, 07:38 PM
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#353
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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Quote:
Sight: bark
Sound: a low hum
Scent: linen
Touch: cold
Taste: refreshing
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low hum of laundry
cat claws on cedar bark
(a phallic scratching post
to save your mother's overstuffed legacy)
linen sheets damp and cold against my thighs
all clues that you have left our bed
ah the refreshing scent
of fresh coffee
damn cat might be forgiven
::
Sight: carmen
Sound: whisper
Scent: ylang ylang
Touch: silk
Taste: whiskey
__________________
no subtext
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11-25-2012, 09:06 PM
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#354
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Virgin
KathrynMartin is offline
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: Nova Scotia
Posts: 24
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Quote:
Sight: carmen
Sound: whisper
Scent: ylang ylang
Touch: silk
Taste: whiskey
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Antananarivo, 1962, under spinning blades
I reached for my keys;
your heavy lids threw a shadow
screaming need ringed by yellow and green
Later, Diego an old guitarist
murmured Habanera tremor
Across my breasts -
in lascivious steps under the Canaga tree
We sipped harsh amber
from chipped glasses before I dragged your hand
for a hungry snatch
Sight: Cerulean
Sound: whistling
Scent: arrid sand
Touch: careful
Taste: flint
Last edited by KathrynMartin : 11-26-2012 at 04:54 AM.
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11-26-2012, 12:42 PM
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#355
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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Quote:
Originally Posted by KathrynMartin
Sight: Cerulean
Sound: whistling
Scent: arrid sand
Touch: careful
Taste: flint
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It whistles, dips, and suicide dives
a mutant housefly kamikaze roll
Black on cerulean
Clouds paint, careful, above the sea
Seeming to create shadow creatures
Black in azure
It is a sharp beach, strewn in chipped rocks
The air tastes of prehistoric flint
waiting to spark fire
In a Banzai spinning dive
falling in a final burst of flames
The flint rocks crack. The world smells of roasted sand.
****
Sight: exceptional eye color
sound: nagging
scent: burnt food
touch: sticky
taste: open - you choose
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Last edited by Desejo : 11-26-2012 at 02:40 PM.
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11-26-2012, 02:19 PM
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#356
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Master Glomper
Remec is offline
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Virginia Beach
Posts: 8,291
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Desejo
Sight: exceptional eye color
sound: nagging
scent: burnt food
touch: sticky
taste: open - you choose
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fresh air stopped
just inside the front door,
no smoke,
just the lingering shards
of what might have been
grilled cheese, maybe
pizza,
before I could make it
to the kitchen, the
prattling could already
be heard, myriad ways
of saying "I told you so"
within the space of a
single breath,
taking a peek around
the corner, I smile as
one bright violet eye
meets and then her
darling face turns to
roll both of them in
my direction,
I touch the wall before
entering, but she shoos
me with a shake of her
head and I step away,
going to wash my hand
of whatever I picked up.
sniff
lick
Yeah, pizza, definitely.
~~~~~
Sight: caduceus
Sound: trumpet trill
Scent: motor oil
Taste: glue
Touch: grass
__________________
My Stuff
AH Directory
"I have set my life upon a cast, and I shall stand the hazard of the die." -- Richard III
"Watch out for this guy! He's slick! And dark... and mysterious... and maybe even a bit evil! But in a totally sexy way!" -- BooMerengue
Last edited by Remec : 11-26-2012 at 03:38 PM.
Reason: Spelling (so my Greek is bad :rolleyes:)
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11-29-2012, 05:45 PM
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#357
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Virgin
KathrynMartin is offline
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: Nova Scotia
Posts: 24
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Remec
Sight: caduceus
Sound: trumpet trill
Scent: motor oil
Taste: glue
Touch: grass
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Discarded Sludge
lame box on wheels
in comfort of discarded sludge
drag broken heroes in pine planks
that reek the boil of broken bones.
my blind eyes blinded
by the foggy etch of rod
and serpent in it’s glassy side;
and so they rest caressed
by gnarly roots
while I behold the touch
of softest green –
and weep
Sight: tracks
Sound: song of wind
Scent: the dry of threshed wheat
Taste: grass
Touch: a rivet
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11-30-2012, 03:46 PM
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#358
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Sandy Survivor
PandoraGlitters is offline
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Apple
Posts: 2,457
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Sight: tracks
Sound: song of wind
Scent: the dry of threshed wheat
Taste: grass
Touch: a rivet
The citizen next to me
on the D line, 7:21 a.m.,
wearing a blue knit cap over
silicone silence
gliding against silence
rumbling against the song of wind
which is a rumble and a wail
longing for green that springs water
on the longing tongue. Swallow.
Did you swallow?
The boy next to you
slicing through the grass next to you
knows. He knew before you even stepped
on the first stem, at the edge
of the field that you would
and you did. Denim hems stiffen
against the wind at the top of the steps.
We submerge again into our own beat and once seated, I reach
the inside waistseam with my thumb as my finger
circles its rivet.
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11-30-2012, 05:48 PM
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#359
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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Miss Glitters.... you forgot the new words 
Or maybe they got swallowed....
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
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12-01-2012, 07:14 AM
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#360
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Sandy Survivor
PandoraGlitters is offline
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Apple
Posts: 2,457
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Hah! So they did!!
Ok here goes.
Sight: dangling chain
Feel: wet hair drying
Smell: something burning
Sound: wood splitting
Taste: rosehip
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12-04-2012, 11:09 PM
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#361
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Literotica Guru
njoyjade is offline
Join Date: Mar 2012
Location: Florida
Posts: 515
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Quote:
Originally Posted by PandoraGlitters
Hah! So they did!!
Ok here goes.
Sight: dangling chain
Feel: wet hair drying
Smell: something burning
Sound: wood splitting
Taste: rosehip
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Devil Lived
Born with an evil look in his eyes,
Devil he was named .
His valor only increased his worth ,
companions we remained.
Freedom and will we had from birth
his spirit so like mine;
I spiked his oats with rosehip
it helped his coat to shine.
Inhaling embers of admiration,
he was filled with pride.
His nostrils flared, we'd lose our breath,
on our daily ride.
Mane like chains of silver,
his sweat dried from the sun.
We splintered every bridge we crossed;
our goal was having fun.
Devil was my angel,
our kinship will never be sieved.
His colts and filly's share his look;
a horse named Devil Lived.
Sight: empty room
Sound: echo
Scent: earthy/robust
Taste: astringent
Touch: corduroy
__________________
njoy today
"The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.” Michelangelo
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12-06-2012, 11:17 AM
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#362
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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[quote=njoyjade;42684972
Sight: empty room
Sound: echo
Scent: earthy/robust
Taste: astringent
Touch: corduroy[/QUOTE]
Chez Samsa
In his empty room
Gregor crawls the walls
his favorite pathways
outlined in sticky brown traces
from his active feet
At dinnertime his shiny head peeks out
from under a swatch rejected corduroy
from his seat in the half open door
His family talk about how he has changed
the conversation echoes
in the crawl space between dimensions
He can smell the decaying vegetables in the trash can
under his fine mandible his tiny mouth
emits astringent liquid, in anticipation.
****
sound: radio station
taste: cheese
touch: splinter
sight: sunrise
smell: morning
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
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12-08-2012, 12:36 AM
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#363
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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Quote:
sound: radio station
taste: cheese
touch: splinter
sight: sunrise
smell: morning
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Cheese slice on egg McMuffin
bathed in the cheery muzak
of classic rock radio
the caffinated ullage of our culture
welcome a new day in suburbia
like the dull itch of a deep splinter
annoying but not bad enough
to take the time to dig it out
Memories of a different time
watching the sun's red glow
through the mist and smoke of cooking fires
the morning scent of boiling rice and sambal
when you and I
lost our way
::
Sight: horizon
Sound: sixty cycle hum
Scent: brimstone
Taste: tasteless
Touch: stickyness
::
__________________
no subtext
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12-08-2012, 04:45 PM
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#364
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Master Glomper
Remec is offline
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Virginia Beach
Posts: 8,291
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Traveling
Quote:
Originally Posted by darkmaas
Sight: horizon
Sound: sixty cycle hum
Scent: brimstone
Taste: tasteless
Touch: stickyness::
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Idle time, once again,
the yellow-gold sunset
has begun to settle into
a wide palette of orange,
red, and purple all
mingling at the fireball
on the horizon, and I
lean against the window
peering past my reflection,
wondering what I'm doing
on tour, alone again,
while my ears are filled
with the rattle of engines
playing as if they were Joe's
Fenders sending out that
peaceful sixty cycle hum he
always failed to stifle during
mic-check. I notice the smile
in the glass as his last
blow up comes to mind--thrown
coffee cup splashing against
the sound board and sparking
a thousand-dollar repair job
that still smells of brimstone
every time we used it, time and again,
and how it had felt to clean up
spilled latte mingled with foam
from the extinguishers. My fingers
were tacky for weeks, it seemed,
and the smell killed off my taste buds
for even longer. Which was helpful,
since airline food sucks bad enough.
even on a chartered flight.
~~~~~
Sight: soft light
Sound: tinkling
Scent: cinnamon
Taste: lemon
Touch: pine bark
__________________
My Stuff
AH Directory
"I have set my life upon a cast, and I shall stand the hazard of the die." -- Richard III
"Watch out for this guy! He's slick! And dark... and mysterious... and maybe even a bit evil! But in a totally sexy way!" -- BooMerengue
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12-16-2012, 09:56 PM
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#365
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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Sight: soft light
Sound: tinkling
Scent: cinnamon
Taste: lemon
Touch: pine bark
::
lips press, lemon tart
cinnamon thighs glow on pine bark sharp
sweat beads, tinkling chimes
::
Sight: blind
Sound: deaf
Scent: fear
Taste: bile
Touch: silk
__________________
no subtext
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12-17-2012, 07:14 PM
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#366
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Poet Chick
Angeline is offline
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Jazzonia
Posts: 25,848
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Quote:
Originally Posted by darkmaas
Sight: soft light
Sound: tinkling
Scent: cinnamon
Taste: lemon
Touch: pine bark
::
lips press, lemon tart
cinnamon thighs glow on pine bark sharp
sweat beads, tinkling chimes
::
Sight: blind
Sound: deaf
Scent: fear
Taste: bile
Touch: silk
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Fear smells like chalk
only just acrid.
In the aftermath of innocence
silence mingles bile then blood
with bright morning as if
they flew silken and winged
toward the Sun and an ocean
of blindness engulfed them.
Sight: cigarettes
Sound: bells
Scent: sandlewood
Taste: water
Touch: feather
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12-18-2012, 08:45 AM
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#367
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Master Glomper
Remec is offline
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Virginia Beach
Posts: 8,291
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Angeline
Sight: cigarettes
Sound: bells
Scent: sandlewood
Taste: water
Touch: feather
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Carly always hated when she
had to visit her in-laws by herself,
the house was even older than
Betsy and smelled of all her
worse candles---especially
sandlewood, and it never
failed that her firggin' bird
would manage to drop
feathers (or worse) on her
shoulder when it decided
she would do for a makeshift
perch.
Betsy always hated when her
stupidest son managed to be
out of town when it came time
for a visit and she had to spend
so much of her day being cordial
to her even more stupid, if possible,
daughter-in-law. The sound of her
front door tinkling made her look
down the hall and through the foyer
and, sure enough, there she was.
A clouded image through the glass,
merely long hair, rounded hips,
and an ever-present, extra long,
menthol bobbing in the hair between
her fingers.
~~~~~
sight: people playing a game
sound: really old rock and roll
scent: stale sweat
taste: garlic butter
touch: ice
__________________
My Stuff
AH Directory
"I have set my life upon a cast, and I shall stand the hazard of the die." -- Richard III
"Watch out for this guy! He's slick! And dark... and mysterious... and maybe even a bit evil! But in a totally sexy way!" -- BooMerengue
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12-18-2012, 09:41 PM
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#368
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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sight: people playing a game
sound: really old rock and roll
scent: stale sweat
taste: garlic butter
touch: ice
::
Asian kid is standing
playing eight games of chess at once
with the Russian geezers
who usually own the room
They're sweating garlic
and Cyrillic oaths
He's channeling
some muzak Elvis
There was a time
it might have mattered
might have been a slice
but now I'm cranky
three fingers in bad whisky
fishing out the ice.
::
sight: koi
sound: burble
scent: peat moss
taste: anise
touch: slippery
__________________
no subtext
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12-18-2012, 11:21 PM
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#369
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smiling for the camera
The_Fool is offline
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 17,667
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Quote:
Originally Posted by darkmaas
sight: people playing a game
sound: really old rock and roll
scent: stale sweat
taste: garlic butter
touch: ice
::
Asian kid is standing
playing eight games of chess at once
with the Russian geezers
who usually own the room
They're sweating garlic
and Cyrillic oaths
He's channeling
some muzak Elvis
There was a time
it might have mattered
might have been a slice
but now I'm cranky
three fingers in bad whisky
fishing out the ice.
::
sight: koi
sound: burble
scent: peat moss
taste: anise
touch: slippery
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Electric koi
playing coy with the children,
kissing fingers
and toes
dabbling in the water.
I wish I didn't hear her sighs
over the burbling
of the fountain.
Wish I could see her eyes,
but she has turned her head away.
Dry kisses,
arid lips tasting of anise.
Almost bitter,
where once they were sweet
red berries liquid to the taste.
We are two, leaning against
the north side of the tree
crushing moss
instead of seeking sunlight
tangled together as one.
She must of just put on lotion.
Skin slippery to the touch,
where once it was smooth,
warm on a summer day
and she was not sliding away.
sight: marble
sound: shutting door
scent: old books
taste: coffee
touch: aged wood
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12-19-2012, 02:27 PM
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#370
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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sight: marble
sound: shutting door
scent: old books
taste: coffee
touch: aged wood
::
Hercule in the Library
The staccato of her heels on marble
deaden as she crosses the carpet
the pointed click of French doors closing
then silence as he considers
that certain je-ne-sais-quoi
of a carnal act
behind French doors
Damask leather bindings
their scent a musty counterpoint
to the fat and urgent odor of her lust
polished oak against her thighs
morning coffee on her lips
a flake of chocolate croissant
caught in a cashmere web
a metaphor perhaps
::
sight: shiny black
sound: hiss
scent: rain washed
taste: bitter
touch: steel
__________________
no subtext
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01-05-2013, 05:13 PM
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#371
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Just Chilling
HarryHill is offline
Join Date: Jul 2012
Location: 7 miles from Backwater
Posts: 7,935
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Ebony beast on side of highway
Steel steed has gone lame and cold
Gleaming under torrential sky
Hissing tire a bitter song
sight: great vistas
sound: train
scent: forested
taste: cold
touch: rough
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01-08-2013, 04:14 PM
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#372
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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Little Engine that Can
Blood thrums and whistles
like the little engine who could
breath emitting poofs
I think I can I think
I can
finally reach the top
thawing blood
drips in my throat
and with a deep
pine-filled breath
I crawl
to a boulder, rough
ice age tumbled and
I feel the mad urge
in my bones
of a suicidal deer, but
when I see the immense horizon--
I know I can.
----
Sound stringed instrument
Scent musty
touch old wood
taste tea
sight mirror
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Last edited by Desejo : 01-08-2013 at 05:04 PM.
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01-10-2013, 06:01 PM
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#373
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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Sound stringed instrument
Scent musty
touch old wood
taste tea
sight mirror
::
Tea with my aunt
the scent of musty lavender
and remembrances of a dashing Cossack.
She sees my smile
distorted in reflection
from the polished samovar
floating splendid
on a hard sea of mahogany.
"Your grin is out of place.
You find it hard to imagine
me a lusty widow.
There was a time young man,
I might have played you like a cello."
::
Sound: sirens
Scent: exhaust with a dash of sewage
Touch: rain
Taste: adrenaline
Sight: neon
__________________
no subtext
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01-11-2013, 03:02 PM
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#374
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Literotica Guru
Desejo is offline
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Earth
Posts: 623
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Quote:
Originally Posted by darkmaas
::
Sound: sirens
Scent: exhaust with a dash of sewage
Touch: rain
Taste: adrenaline
Sight: neon
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Driving to Dinner in Banda Aceh
It’s only drizzling
says Bobby
as we get into the becak
sliding along the red viynl seat
in the open cart behind
the motorcycle driver
At the first growl of thunder
the driver pulls on his rain hood
folds down the plastic sides
to protect us, but
in seconds
between the rain and the puddles
my white t-shirt is drenched
God knows what the
Sharia’a police would do
about that
the air emits wafts
petrol, rain, and clogged canals
our laughs burst out
in riptides of adrenaline
the sheer joy
a deluge
warm rain flooding in
past Achenese Kopi houses
lit up in neon where men drink
And we all forget, for a moment
to wait in terror for the
next wave.
This time sirens will drown
the wail of prayer.
Sound: held breath
sight: something falling from the sky
Smell: you decide
touch: fine carpet
taste: Soup
__________________
“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Last edited by Desejo : 01-19-2013 at 11:47 PM.
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01-19-2013, 05:34 PM
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#375
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Literotica Guru
darkmaas is offline
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: cyberia
Posts: 973
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Sound: held breath
sight: something falling from the sky
Smell: you decide
touch: fine carpet
taste: Soup
::
Salene Speaks
Outside it’s raining cats and dogs
Inside, a table set for luncheon
with two chairs beside the fire
“Victor Darling,
I am afraid …”
She’s taken off her spikes
and toes caress the Axminster
as lovers might
breathless in the moment
She waves her spoon
a dagger
to punctuate her thoughts
The scent of indecision
hangs in the air
like threadbare pantaloons
on skinny shanks
I hover
a culinary bodyguard
my only weapon
in prandial defense
a ladle.
“… the soup,
it needs some salt”
::
Sound: distant thunder
Sight: red hot glow
Smell: brimstone
Touch: naked flesh
Taste: salt
__________________
no subtext
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