Old 12-04-2016, 07:28 PM   #1
RabbleVox
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Location: The dark, drizzly northwest.
Posts: 73
Baby It's cold outside

Poetry to recall summer. It's filthy cold and wet outside, and the boiler is down in my apartment building. Guess how quick a repairman shows up on Sunday afternoon?

So, poetry that brings the heat, erotic or otherwise. Here's an old one of mine, to start. Help me get warm.

"And we flew"

Summer
seemed to last
all year
long that year.

Under a wide
and burning sky,
baked fields
hot to the touch,
lay bruised and broken
beneath sneaker heels
and bicycle wheels.

So high we flew.
So high that summer.
Launched from plywood ramps,
our Stingray bikes
grabbed the sky.

And we flew.

So high we thought
we'd never come down.
Until we did.

Crashing again
and tearing the skin
from knees and chins
in a fast tangle
of boy
and bike
and burning earth.

Only to launch once more
into the endless sky
of our last innocent summer.
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Old 12-04-2016, 08:07 PM   #2
JoanneA
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Join Date: Nov 2016
Posts: 470
Roses are red, violence is too.
You're sweet when you choke and warm when you're blue.
When my temperature rises, I want you to know...
you're the white in my sky and the black on my snow.
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Old 12-05-2016, 03:25 AM   #3
RabbleVox
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Location: The dark, drizzly northwest.
Posts: 73
The roses have vanished,
white is the snow.
You tease me and taunt me,
but where did you go?

You leave me here hanging
like beef on a chain.
I lust and I yearn
for sweet summer rain.

Last edited by RabbleVox : 12-05-2016 at 03:27 AM.
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Old 12-05-2016, 12:47 PM   #4
JoanneA
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Posts: 470
Snip

The roses are cradled in baskets of snow.
You tease me and taunt me, but where did you go?

Your tickle bites back like a dog on a chain, but
I learn that I lust for a sweet summer rain.
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Old 12-05-2016, 10:51 PM   #5
UnderYourSpell
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Join Date: May 2007
Location: Somewhere over the rainbow
Posts: 14,137
The petals have fallen
from the frost in your smile,
Now all that is left
is a sodden red pile.
But I'll wait for the Summer
and grow roses red
over the the place of
your cosy soil bed.
The body refused me,
the flashing blue eyes
will make perfect growth
and a rose fertilise.
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Blessed are the cracked for it is they that let in the light
They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient.
But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.
If at first you don't succeed....skydiving is not for you ....
If you don't pay your exorcist .... do you get repossessed?
I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.
....But I, being poor, have only my dreams, I have spread my dreams under your feet,Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.......
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