writing live

lying in bed
clothes on the floor
pillow under my hips

eyes closed
hands lost in your hair
please don't stop

cover my mouth
don't let them hear me
i moan for you

let me come
hold me tight
almost there
 
i'm wondering if a link to stevie wonder singing 'isn't she lovely', above or below the poem might help in my case... 1976

overall, though, gm - it's a question that could drive you nuts: a writer might be able to ferret out means to accomplish such a thing if writing for generations gone by, but for those to come? is it even the task of the writer to write outside of their era rather than attempt to address their own contemporary issues/people? some poets achieve this, no doubt, as we've all read those apparently timeless pieces that are as relevant now as they were when first written. maybe it's because those particular ones don't specify era but speak directly to human nature - something which really doesn't seem to change from one century to the next and, for me, this is one of the reasons shakespeare and byron still read/translate to modernity the way they do.

Valid points. I sometimes drive myself nuts in the effort. I'm more interested in historical examples the contemporary reader finds meaningful, rather than anticipating the worth of contemporary examples for future readers.

As to your first point, I prefer epigraphs to links, although I think they should be used sparingly. " Isn't she lovely?" would make a great epigraph by itself because I think most readers would connect that to "the blind man" later in the poem.
 
Heart-Shaped and Dripping with Honey

Sometimes, I open that imaginary box,
the one that holds you inside,
reconciling the rise, the release and the fall.

I linger on words, remembering
their shoe strings tied me to the passion,
often so tight I couldn’t breathe.

I’d swoon, not from the lack of oxygen,
but from the honey.
Desire dark and rich,
sticking to everything I touched.

You spoon fed me and I ate every drop.
Warm and heady, I did lust you, goddamn,
you know I did then all the while in silence.
I know you suffered, but secrets like those
kept me yours, briefly as it were, I was.

Only then, I close the box again, inadvertently,
licking my lips, tasting the sweetness clinging
and I cannot help but tremble for you.
 
he

makes me smile
like no other

a light
to guide, hand
in hand
body
to body


breath
to breath

mmmmm




...
 
teeth bared
moans erupt

feet flexed
fingers, grasping
a taste

of what was shared,
now revisited
over, over

again.
it all started with a simple
kiss. he said, it does not matter
what came
before. we are here
now.


patio kisses, shared
as the water trickled,
below. deep
penetrating

clothes thrown
nips to nipple
asses spanked
a throw down
here, now. it's on,

for we have tonight
tomorrow

shall always, come.

bodies bending, in motion
kisses, never ending
pinch nipples
naughty, needy
never, let
go

forms, folding
meeting, again
again

teeth bared, whispers
welts
wants, un---
leashed

he met me
again and again
never letting go
as we caressed
carpeted

the room with desire
with need
with bare brazen
want!


nail grips to his ass
as he filled me, over
over

'onery thoughts, tiger --

teeth
tempt, tease
give. dreams
of
I want this man

forever.

Caresses soft
creating a euphoria
of here, now

he carried me into

infinity
and back
just to

breath soft
kisses, slow hands
surreal
wants.

I lay, dream

demand

a repeat
performance,

now!
 
For half my life I swore I could not see
But as I left the ground
I knew it wasn't me
There was a third dimension you got to see
The answer was an question
I don't understand
There was a sense of closure I did not find
So I held my composure
And you held his hand

Of all the years of blindness
Why this still?
I'd love to see the smile you mask
And never will
 
summit

when a mountain floats
when you've eaten too much ice
when you're snowblind
and breathing air too rare
when your bones know
they tether muscles as they quiver -
thin strings in drawn-out notes -
still your heart swells
as the falling sun paints purple thoughts
and roseate desire
 
^ thinking aloud, and not sure what this is yet, if anything. sort of the ingredients but not yet the composition.
 
honey
slick
curves
bend
tight

.............................


five little words
to play


a vision of tight jeans
pecks flexed
as he moves,
ever so slow.

tan line, muscles
dropped jaw, flexes
as he spies
me watching.

to drop, drip by drip
honey
over his sweat glistening

skin

small swirl, licks
soft - feather
flicks
to spread
wide. legs arch
knees
bent. slow bobble
head

to taste
memorize

as I lay
mesmerized
by every inch
of his
perfection ~



:catroar::devil:
 
perhaps

when the sun scoops low to the wave
when the sauce
bubbles slowly in the pan
when words fall
or fail
depending on the quickbreath in my ear
when something screams a chill right up your spine
i'll look and find the hammer's in my hand
and how the last nail glimmers
rightly mine
 
Take me .... fast ~~~

....


read



perhaps he will

look. today

is now! I want him,


now.

to cover me
in kisses as I take him
whole.


in my mouth
in my body

muscles quiver
moans, groans, erupt
one,

one

one
finally. I bare back ride
kisses
slow, wet
licks
tongue travels

bodies quake
more
more

erupting in screams
scarcely touching
but

joined
connected
reaching

outer space

within

seconds. the
wait, too long

want

too much
here

now

forever ~~






..........................................




my thoughts ...
perhaps I should have went to passion
thread

first

off tha hip
there it is ~~


:catroar:
 
....


read



perhaps he will

look. today

is now! I want him,


now.

to cover me
in kisses as I take him
whole.


in my mouth
in my body

muscles quiver
moans, groans, erupt
one,

one

one
finally. I bare back ride
kisses
slow, wet
licks
tongue travels

bodies quake
more
more

erupting in screams
scarcely touching
but

joined
connected
reaching

outer space

within

seconds. the
wait, too long

want

too much
here

now

forever ~~






..........................................




my thoughts ...
perhaps I should have went to passion
thread

first

off tha hip
there it is ~~


:catroar:




he looked
he read
every

line.
came


cum

upon me. took
my all
breathed

fresh air
a non- suf-

focating legend
a man
who saw
took, made
whole
then stepped

back, glimpsed
the fairy
within.

lily pad, jumping
from fun, excitement
loving

teasing

happy

me. witnessed a woman
on the verge

of what
could

be. cupped
me in his silent, secure
word

of

be. just

be

as you are, a woman with
wants
needs
desires. desire

me
desire

a world of what

could be. he came

cum-med
within

and never. looked

back ~~



mmmhhmmm ~~~~






:p
 
Shadow Hunter

Skin over muscle over bone,
he is as golden eyed as he is blond,
and he is the blondest I've ever seen.
In all this light, I am the shadows,
hunting hollows and planes,
preying the lean, long lines to vanquish.
Though brief it is, it's twilight
to darkness, with starbursts blinding
and already I am missing the sun.

.
 
Shadow Hunter

Skin over muscle over bone,
he is as golden eyed as he is blond,
and he is the blondest I've ever seen.
In all this light, I am the shadows,
hunting hollows and planes,
preying the lean, long lines to vanquish.
Though brief it is, it's twilight
to darkness, with starbursts blinding
and already I am missing the sun.

.

this is fantastic, Neo. your writing has developed to a standard that makes me just anticipate, read and enjoy every one of your offerings. thankyou!
 
this is fantastic, Neo. your writing has developed to a standard that makes me just anticipate, read and enjoy every one of your offerings. thankyou!

Well, thankyouverymuch!

Now, re-reading it, I think it's kind of interesting how a quick poem evolves after that first line? Poems don't seem to end the way I start them, like this poem for instance. Originally it started with a shadow and a bad mood in the "13 o'clock" thread and morphed into hunting and sex in an entirely different thread.
 
Shadow Hunter

Skin over muscle over bone,
he is as golden eyed as he is blond,
and he is the blondest I've ever seen.
In all this light, I am the shadows,
hunting hollows and planes,
preying the lean, long lines to vanquish.
Though brief it is, it's twilight
to darkness, with starbursts blinding
and already I am missing the sun.

.
now that is a write I'm thinkin about.....
you have a way of visuals that rock....blue
 
i opened up my mind
as far and as wide as was possible, you see,
then my brains fell out
into my hands
and i feel all hollow
and i feel all free
but typing this
is really hard
 
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