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LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

007 Challenge

sweepthefloor said:
He is a sand grain inside the hourglass of life.
-- Time stops because he is so large
He rest lodges in the center of our glass world.
--He is one big sand gravel
Not as fine as the others who do slip through
--And he stays with me without time.

We quicksand our way to what is love.
Click to expand...

I like it but think you could cut a few words and yield a better result. Enjoyed a lot of yours as well sweep.
 
5.

I appreciate this appraisal. Thank you. :rose:
todski28 said:
I like it but think you could cut a few words and yield a better result. Enjoyed a lot of yours as well sweep.
Click to expand...

I like to chop words-
And cut with the calculator.

I love the least-
Cold common denominator.

It is the math-
For the terrible typist.

Sometimes equations-
Use pages to successfully solve.
 
5

the wood cut rhythm
chop
chop
chop
axe sinks deep in ancient skin
steel devours soft flesh
sun beams down life indifferent
to the silent screams
as the axe chops
another crop of life felled
as timber is yelled
it groans its final goodbye before
crashing to the earth
 
6

three nights past the new moon
the blood worms spawn
slither free from mangrove silt
float to the surface after mating is done
free of life's trivialities they sacrifice themselves
to feed the next generation of fish

three nights past the full moon
you sacrifice yourself to those demands
that clamp your insides
and tingle your flesh
float to the surface of a dreams reality
cradle your swelling belly where she kicked from the inside
tears fall
so close now
as you push that last push
and
her cries are the cries of silence
still as a porcelain doll
she is handed between the family
so she may live in our hearts
 
7

I cut you a place in my skin
stained with ink
so that your hands may cradle my heart
your feet can run in the pastures of my mind
and the date of your birth can age with me

I smile whenever you place your hand over what it once was
to marvel at how big you have grown
sewn into my flesh as you charge toward your own path

I hope I am enough
you deserve the best
and I am
just a man
 
6.

The bell rings time again--
The bell for work and I am still in the hallway.

Running to the locker digging--
For trauma shears, markers and clamps.

It is just another day--
Open abdomens and drainage containers.
 
07

sad fascist sets her watch
twinning the hands

as if they could hold

I hear no watches
in shut drawers because I'm Bowery Bound

my Sundays well kissed by poets
 
001

The Joys of Sex

The joys of sex are never old,
Though often somewhat oversold
As panacea for effects
Of age, lost beauty, voodoo hex,
That bathtub ring that might be mold.

For when you two (or three) have rolled
And roiled the bed quite uncontrolled,
Your thoughts may turn to who is next.
(The joys of sex.)

As you grow confident and bold,
More learnèd in your grappling holds,
Relationships may turn complex
Say, Mabel, Mary, Jane (your ex),
And neighbor Jill. Ah, then behold
The joys of sex.

.
 
002

Rondeau, Kind of About Sex

This isn't love, his partner said
When he found her in Fredrick's bed
She riding him completely nude
In manner most intensely lewd.
It's research, she sighed, smiled, and said.

My dissertation lies ahead
And paths I have to travel led
To Fred's embrace. And while it's crude,
It isn't love.

For love, my dear is fresh-baked bread,
Another day you are not dead,
Debussy's ballet La Prélude
Nijinksy dancing Claude's étude.
It's not I've screwed some other dude.
That isn't love.

.
 
1

Less than perfect
Just a little odd
The only thing perfect is God

Why am I so insecure
Wanting to be so much more
What does the future have in store
 
003

Plain. Sight.

Some like to hide their base desires
In rhetoric, Yeats' spinning gyres
That wind up and wind down apace
Though never spin off into space.
Apollo, plucking on his lyre,

Is heavenly and, so, inspires
Assembly of these godly choirs,
That some are not quite steeled to face.
Some like to hide.

But you are one whom I've admired.
You're beautiful, someone who's fired
By life and love, who will embrace
Our love without sense of disgrace.
A woman who will not be wired
To want to hide.

.
 
2

Cheated

Taken from us to soon
Where do I begin
Feeling like a baffoon

So many things left unsaid
Words that were spoken I dread
Feeling so cheated

Moments I lost with you.
 
1.

seven and seven

she cut to the chase

straight through the bullshit

into the lace
 
004

Artifact

Let me simply be
these few smoothed stones, aligned
on an otherwise empty beach

where you found us and touched
us, carefully, wondering why
we lay quite in that way along the sand.

.
 
3

Started with a smile
Asked if he would stay for a while

A spot of tea
And a chat with little me

I did not know the bloke
Or of the things he spoke

But he soon became a friend to me
 
005

Untitled

It's almost April. I'm quite lazy
(That is, I don't like planting things).
I'm happier watching Scorsese
Films. His Taxi Driver swings
All our emotions lefty, rightward,
Into that creepy scene, where nightward,
Travis parks outside a house,
And our director offs his spouse—
Well, verbally, but really icky.
So think of flowers, or the blooms
Of daffodils and tulips, rooms
That goose you like that stolen quickie
In the hallway, years before,
You had with sweet, young Hannah Moore.

.
 
4

Quick as a hare
Looked and no one was there
From the left to the right
And now out of sight
 
006

Untitled

Now. some desires are neverending,
Like how I'd like to be with you,
So entertaining, gender bending,
Attentive as a kangaroo
Paired with her joey, young, quite doughy,
And although small, just lovely, showy—
Exemplary as animal.
(Excuse me if I'm being dull.)
But you are Joy of Man's Desiring,
Though not Jesu, transcribed by Bach.
You do fill me with joy, quite chock-
A-block; my nervous systems's wiring
Yet hums along to your life riff.
And, damn! Still leave me rather stiff.
 
007

Your hair is wet and tangled.
Disrobed, you sit
on a towel, legs open,

relaxed in the heat.
We will need to shower again,
afterwards.
 
1-1

I'm not quite ready to commit to another thirty, but I think I can handle seven.



Our beech tree has leaves
absently, I notice
and wonder when that happened
wasn't it just autumn?
I'm not ready for the green
for this renewal of nature
reminding me of time's passing
give me back the never-ending winter
leafless branches and brown grasses
I'm not ready to face the spring
or watch the world move on
without you
 
1-2

Copper and bile
flavor of my outrage
rises again in my mouth
and I restrain the urge
to hurl everything I have
at you, knowing it's all
just air swishing past
your narcissistic ears

Stale sweat scents the air
telling tales of broken promises
of never again
that turn to just one more time
which will never be just one

Hopes dried up
crumbled like autumn leaves
in your hands
scattered to the winds
but you don't need us
family is useless
and expects too much

Now life can revolve
around you, as you need it to
surrounded by those foolish enough
to be caught in the gravitational pull
of disarming charisma
even I have to admit you possess
but now I watch it all
from the safety of distance



Originally posted in the Five Senses thread
 
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