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Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,049
speaking as a semite I
a placid oasis of palm and date
the pillowy sand that curves
from the water and rises I
a Salome of fingers sideways
fluttered stolen and kohl-
rimmed darkness brimming
in dance and gesture I
in this new world apostate
renamed and fallen from
that slender tree seedling
scatterling like night or smoke
I and the sand and the dust.
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
speaking as a semite I
a placid oasis of palm and date
the pillowy sand that curves
from the water and rises I
a Salome of fingers sideways
fluttered stolen and kohl-
rimmed darkness brimming
in dance and gesture I
in this new world apostate
renamed and fallen from
that slender tree seedling
scatterling like night or smoke
I and the sand and the dust.
And I the sinuous
serpent, parched
and famished, flexing
belly-wise across
the heated sand, onyx eyes
always on the succulent
dates dangling just
beyond my reach.
x 12
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,049
And I the sinuous
serpent, parched
and famished, flexing
belly-wise across
the heated sand, onyx eyes
always on the succulent
dates dangling just
beyond my reach.
Are we sure about this? I still have that Yeats infection from before.
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
A burning need remainsAre we sure about this? I still have that Yeats infection from before.
torment designed by devils
lifting sex through punishment
to redemption and fiery flesh.
Swollen, humid life steeps
in the cup until sin kisses
and stirs the demons awake.
Scalded and reminded to atone,
she reads poetry instead.
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
Are we sure about this? I still have that Yeats infection from before.
How do you treat that Byron sensation? I hear they're the Dickens to clear up.
Of course Champy understands: she's from Candida.
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
Y'know, you're being pretty cheesy... Be careful where you dip.
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
What to Expect on a First Date
There are rules, like which wine
breaks a silence, and can I touch
the little spoon to diagram an accident?
Some people fan their phones
for old flames. Do you like
asparagus? Will you break out
in laughter when I
am most vulnerable? Don’t
tell me I am your first black
and white debater: the middle
is where everyone rolls
by morning. In the gray light
I’ll be the first thing you see,
and I’ll push the hair from your cheek.
::
There are rules, like which wine
breaks a silence, and can I touch
the little spoon to diagram an accident?
Some people fan their phones
for old flames. Do you like
asparagus? Will you break out
in laughter when I
am most vulnerable? Don’t
tell me I am your first black
and white debater: the middle
is where everyone rolls
by morning. In the gray light
I’ll be the first thing you see,
and I’ll push the hair from your cheek.
::
Last edited:
DehviantGirl
I got you
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2010
- Posts
- 4,134
If I'd Have Known
Blame and shame in her eyes
Bitter from the anger she held inside
They told me to remove you
That it was too much to keep you
But I did not listen
Her regret and remorse burned so cold
I was wrong, so very wrong
I would have listened
If I'd have known
---
It wasn't easy to hear, it changed everything. I didn't even think of it as I watched her die, sitting by her side and holding her hand.
She never realized that had she listened she would have died alone.
I think it's about forgiveness. Mine. She never asked for any from me.
Blame and shame in her eyes
Bitter from the anger she held inside
They told me to remove you
That it was too much to keep you
But I did not listen
Her regret and remorse burned so cold
I was wrong, so very wrong
I would have listened
If I'd have known
---
It wasn't easy to hear, it changed everything. I didn't even think of it as I watched her die, sitting by her side and holding her hand.
She never realized that had she listened she would have died alone.
I think it's about forgiveness. Mine. She never asked for any from me.
Tzara
Continental
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,608
Falling in Love with Dead Women
They’re never angry. They don’t complain
that you’re playing golf the one weekend
their Aunt Esther is in town.
It’s not their way. They’re quiet,
permanently beautiful (you can even
choose their age, to find
that perfect balance of sex and conversation).
They never recite lines
you haven’t already written in your head.
You can even learn history,
right from the source: how Roman girls
plied fellatio; how De Sade bled
his mistresses. How Joplin screamed in bed.
Everything is simplified, except
there’s no body next to you,
no head on the other pillow. Still, a small
price to pay for such independence,
one should hope to think. Yes?
They’re never angry. They don’t complain
that you’re playing golf the one weekend
their Aunt Esther is in town.
It’s not their way. They’re quiet,
permanently beautiful (you can even
choose their age, to find
that perfect balance of sex and conversation).
They never recite lines
you haven’t already written in your head.
You can even learn history,
right from the source: how Roman girls
plied fellatio; how De Sade bled
his mistresses. How Joplin screamed in bed.
Everything is simplified, except
there’s no body next to you,
no head on the other pillow. Still, a small
price to pay for such independence,
one should hope to think. Yes?
DehviantGirl
I got you
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2010
- Posts
- 4,134
Doors
He gallantly reached to open the door
See how wonderful and kind he is?
So quick on his feet and ready for more
Entertained and amused though bored
She has seen it all before
Those quick to act
Have a confused sort of pact
They do as they were told
Not truly bold
It's the man that holds the door
After he knows her that she wants to adore
No way of knowing when it's only a door
He gallantly reached to open the door
See how wonderful and kind he is?
So quick on his feet and ready for more
Entertained and amused though bored
She has seen it all before
Those quick to act
Have a confused sort of pact
They do as they were told
Not truly bold
It's the man that holds the door
After he knows her that she wants to adore
No way of knowing when it's only a door
Fish_Tales
Against the Current
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2011
- Posts
- 5,013
Fair
Since when was it meant to be fair?
The voice in my head laughs.
Fair?
I couldn't say anything to that.
Fair?
I wish I could reply, but he's right.
There is no fair.
Just luck.
The luck of being born intelligent.
With a work ethic.
In the right country.
To the right parents.
Healthy.
Luck. Luck. Luck.
But fair?
No.
Since when was it meant to be fair?
The voice in my head laughs.
Fair?
I couldn't say anything to that.
Fair?
I wish I could reply, but he's right.
There is no fair.
Just luck.
The luck of being born intelligent.
With a work ethic.
In the right country.
To the right parents.
Healthy.
Luck. Luck. Luck.
But fair?
No.
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
Cheek Bones to Die For (or Where'd Ya Get That Smile?)
A little lift of classic lines
within a gasp of structure
an oval symmetry dancing
court to almond eyes
made green by yellow
silver by gray and taupe
warmed up with rouge
so elegant the Leonardo
girls sit in enigmatic envy
at her sly grin sparkling
out a taunt of expectant
laughter and pleasured sigh.
A little lift of classic lines
within a gasp of structure
an oval symmetry dancing
court to almond eyes
made green by yellow
silver by gray and taupe
warmed up with rouge
so elegant the Leonardo
girls sit in enigmatic envy
at her sly grin sparkling
out a taunt of expectant
laughter and pleasured sigh.
Neonurotic
Share some skin
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2011
- Posts
- 1,405
delete, wrong thread.
Last edited:
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
SETI
The lights along University Avenue are a spiral arm
to the star cluster of all-night
coffee shops and college bars dense
with sweat and noise. Everything curves
down there. Even the straight-
faced girl who said it was her last night
in town; she was breaking free
and did I want to ride her
bow wave to a place I’d never been
before. Her gravity
was strong: for two days we couldn’t
part. But I was just a particle,
then, I didn’t know the dual nature
of words and meaning, the thing
and the thought adhering. What I thought
I heard was light years away
from what she meant: one morning
she had packed her car, my guitar
too, and gone. Left behind
a necklace: a crescent moon, two stars
pressed onto a cobalt sky. I’ve carried it
out those spiral arms, where lights
are thinned and space blooms
in dark clouds, tuned the radio
to soft static and listened for her call.
::
The lights along University Avenue are a spiral arm
to the star cluster of all-night
coffee shops and college bars dense
with sweat and noise. Everything curves
down there. Even the straight-
faced girl who said it was her last night
in town; she was breaking free
and did I want to ride her
bow wave to a place I’d never been
before. Her gravity
was strong: for two days we couldn’t
part. But I was just a particle,
then, I didn’t know the dual nature
of words and meaning, the thing
and the thought adhering. What I thought
I heard was light years away
from what she meant: one morning
she had packed her car, my guitar
too, and gone. Left behind
a necklace: a crescent moon, two stars
pressed onto a cobalt sky. I’ve carried it
out those spiral arms, where lights
are thinned and space blooms
in dark clouds, tuned the radio
to soft static and listened for her call.
::
4degrees
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2004
- Posts
- 5,850
swallow the stones
sink, drown and sleep
awaken someplace dry
with telltale sand in
the wrinkles of knees
my dying dream sings
like angels from Birmingham
beyond a grave
sad hearts cry
like rain in the ocean
the dead laugh softly
and let us wonder
when
sink, drown and sleep
awaken someplace dry
with telltale sand in
the wrinkles of knees
my dying dream sings
like angels from Birmingham
beyond a grave
sad hearts cry
like rain in the ocean
the dead laugh softly
and let us wonder
when
bogusagain
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2009
- Posts
- 844
sat on a step in the doorway’s shadow
the tortuous sun burns like a hotplate
and women are showing too much skin
but not enough for my libido
which soars with each degree of heat
I observe the legs of passing females
and notice how they appear longer more shapely
in this radiant light and contrasting shadow
as though an artist had defined a perfection
and invited me to admire his work
to pass my lascivious hand over silken contours
ankle, calf and thigh and why not higher
into the leg of a pair of shorts or up beneath a skirt
I smile at the possible delights it would find
a smooth pudendum or maybe a shock of hair?
the tortuous sun burns like a hotplate
and women are showing too much skin
but not enough for my libido
which soars with each degree of heat
I observe the legs of passing females
and notice how they appear longer more shapely
in this radiant light and contrasting shadow
as though an artist had defined a perfection
and invited me to admire his work
to pass my lascivious hand over silken contours
ankle, calf and thigh and why not higher
into the leg of a pair of shorts or up beneath a skirt
I smile at the possible delights it would find
a smooth pudendum or maybe a shock of hair?
Last edited:
4degrees
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2004
- Posts
- 5,850
More to me, more to life
More to my then meets
The eye, this prize
Much to my surprise
Equals all things ever
Sought, ever fought for
Then later forgot-
Ten, my ideal man
Wraps around my
Mind again, I find
Again answers to
Unspoken mysteries
Unspoken and sort of
Broken, broke-back
Beach boy is invisible
But always in my history.
More to my then meets
The eye, this prize
Much to my surprise
Equals all things ever
Sought, ever fought for
Then later forgot-
Ten, my ideal man
Wraps around my
Mind again, I find
Again answers to
Unspoken mysteries
Unspoken and sort of
Broken, broke-back
Beach boy is invisible
But always in my history.
Tzara
Continental
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,608
Explanation
There is nothing I can give you
other than joy. Even that
is qualified by distance
and the fact that we will never touch.
Still, I can imagine your cheek,
flushed red from exercise
or from the icy wind on a peak
somewhere in Nepal, where we’ve hiked
just to say we’ve been on the shoulders
of the Himalyas. Perhaps up to their chin.
I could kiss you there, in that insistent cold
and then descend to my ordinary happiness
on the plains of family, keeping our shared moment
as just a postcard with an odd stamp,
franked in a town whose name I can’t pronounce.
I could so love you. Perhaps it is better
to file everything between us under Wish
as if that made it legal. Moral,
as if that made it right. This poem is not
really about sex but, of course, it is.
Sex is the only thing that is.
There is nothing I can give you
other than joy. Even that
is qualified by distance
and the fact that we will never touch.
Still, I can imagine your cheek,
flushed red from exercise
or from the icy wind on a peak
somewhere in Nepal, where we’ve hiked
just to say we’ve been on the shoulders
of the Himalyas. Perhaps up to their chin.
I could kiss you there, in that insistent cold
and then descend to my ordinary happiness
on the plains of family, keeping our shared moment
as just a postcard with an odd stamp,
franked in a town whose name I can’t pronounce.
I could so love you. Perhaps it is better
to file everything between us under Wish
as if that made it legal. Moral,
as if that made it right. This poem is not
really about sex but, of course, it is.
Sex is the only thing that is.
darkerdreamer
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2007
- Posts
- 680
Why do you only burn for me
when midnight oil can't be found?
3 or 4 AM I am.
Just before sun, but not quite past night,
I curl around you like the blankets
you sweatily kick away.
I end up on floors,
whispering dust bunny secrets
with new friends.
when midnight oil can't be found?
3 or 4 AM I am.
Just before sun, but not quite past night,
I curl around you like the blankets
you sweatily kick away.
I end up on floors,
whispering dust bunny secrets
with new friends.
Desejo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Apr 15, 2011
- Posts
- 627
He says
nothing in response
I write blind - sealing vulnerability in ink
He says
promise me we will still do this when we are sixty
And my tears swell
there is no need to make that promise
I have never been able to walk away
From someone in my veins
I do not see the point.
He says
I can not give you what you deserve
but I deserve nothing
He says
Let’s try by email, maybe I can help
then is silent again
realizing he cannot reply
without engaging in me
And she is siting on the couch right there
He says
When do we meet
And I log on to Expedia.
nothing in response
I write blind - sealing vulnerability in ink
He says
promise me we will still do this when we are sixty
And my tears swell
there is no need to make that promise
I have never been able to walk away
From someone in my veins
I do not see the point.
He says
I can not give you what you deserve
but I deserve nothing
He says
Let’s try by email, maybe I can help
then is silent again
realizing he cannot reply
without engaging in me
And she is siting on the couch right there
He says
When do we meet
And I log on to Expedia.
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