Poem | |
"A Near-Death Experience of A Sweetheart"
Floating through a corridor between two different Worlds
among white fluffy clouds and shimmering stars awhile wind unfurls
racing into darkness: destination to death's door
living in a heavenly kingdom ... forevermore ...
Traveling through deep tunnel as cold fingers touch
walls of blackened essence creating thoughts to clutch
quickly toward a bright white light of peace
my soul and spirit being experienced soft release ...
Rushing to a Paradise, landing on streets of gold
seeing the Face of God so clearly to behold
longing to embrace my dear departed family
loved ones who had gone before to their final destiny ...
Their captivating smiles excited my soul
sharing love once more as was in their earthly roll
but a huge white Angel stood between my track
he spoke mentally "child of God you must go back.
And yet, I was not sad but happy to have seen
my precious treasured relatives cuddled by Supreme Being
why? I questioned must I return to Planet Earth?
Angel responed not your time to stay
your purpose unfulfilled for God to cherish every day ...
Suddenly transported through the tunnel smelling flowers
a jorney taking minutes but feeling like hours
and soon the sights and sounds ignited quiet hospital room
while my loved ones endured possibility of doom ...
My husband was squeezing my hand so tight I felt his love
as my children sobbed so loud praying to above
my eyes opened wide as I inhaled a breath
escaping to my body while I avoided Death ...
This near-death experience was an inspiration
for another realm exists in utter fascination
for now the message lives to enjoy both love and life
have no fear for death is harmless and erases strife ...
Hover close to God and always give Him thankxxx
through trials and tribulations He relieves all angst
Treasure every moment and anticipate the end
a beutiful place is waiting reuniting family and friends ...
Kisses and hugs replaced those solitary tears
knowing what lies ahead extinguishes all fears
please celebrate the gift of life in grateful attitude
Eternity is awesome with unending interlude ...
Poem | |
~The best poem ever~
Without saying a word I’m going to go where no one has gone before.
A twilight zone, only God and I know of.
Without saying a word I’m going to recite the best poems ever.
Poems with no vision too stare.
Quietly with a hum, only you can hear.
Silent through my mind I will walk whistling, without a care.
Feeling and thinking as my heart beat goes on.
Searching for your heart beat next to mine.
Dreaming of words that blind,
Dreaming of words which connect us together!
Without saying a word I’m going to look and speak for the first time.
Howl and feel as our chemicals sublime.
I’m going to get hungry before I die in your arms.
Through circles and rods, I carry this year alone.
Imagining all the days it was only you and I.
“Not only I!”
Without saying a word I’m going to listen for your voice to call my name.
A whisper that setting itself on repeat.
Anticipating, those look before you look away.
Wanting and waiting, I will still be whistling.
Overwhelmed by, fate at the door.
Without saying a word I’m going to, leave a whisper in the bedroom
Without making movement, with my mouth!
Control all the space, around me.
Touching the energy you left behind.
Hear the snowy winter chime.
Experience all the shelter in your hold.
Without saying a word I’m going to, lay down beside you.
Laying in a way, that feels better than freedom.
Millions of miles away, I’ll still be whistling.
And waiting and waiting, for that perfect lay.
Arguing and embracing the air we both breathe.
A breath for every reason!
Without saying a word I’m going to, mime the world tonight.
Over and over, till I mime the perfect poem, like the olden days.
Without a word to say!
I’m wrapping my own arms around me, like a mime.
Explaining the breath you took without me.
Talking to myself without saying a word!
Writing the perfect poem without a word to say!
Without saying a word I’m going to, yell this inside.
Whistle and mumble till I’m out of breath.
Dying with my dreams to be by your side!
Without saying a word I’m going to, close my eyes and see your face.
A bond not even death can break.
Without saying a word I’m going to, sit here, till your wind hits.
A tap that’s inspires the best poem ever.
Until then, I’m going to whistle without a word to say.
And enjoy your silhouette everyday.
Poem | |
You have all heard I am sure of the three musketeers
The group with the swords not the ones with the funny ears
Reminds me of a joke that right here would apply
There are three kinds of people I tell you no lie
Those who are really quite good at math
And those who are not and that's that
They were the three musketeers but they were four
Their math was bad not three, four and no more
I hope you're all still with me, I'm not trying to be a pest
I need you to follow me because at the end there's a test
There is Casarah
Yeah and hurrah
She is a good ma
Then there is Tim
You should know him
He's tall and trim
And finally there is the kind hearted Jan
From England she's the one with no tan
Coy and demure behind her fancy fan
If you kept count that makes three
Who can argue. You'd have to agree.
Now we have arrived at what I am trying to say
I've just joined them and I quite enjoy sword play
Do you see? I am number four.
I'll just walk through their door.
That makes me the best, the fillet mignon
It turns out that I am frikin' D'Artagnan.
Poem | |
Cut down to any size,
Crumble, crop me wrong
Pull the insulation from my heart.
Never will I be "A Paper Doll!"
Thank you for calling me a "Friend!"
Thank you for wasting my "time!"
Enjoy the WALLPAPER display
Layers and layers of lifeless brick,
KEEPS EVERYTHING OUT!
Emotional poster boards of doubt
Envious fiberglass green never seen
Yuletide Carols warped around my energy
Merry and full of acrylic sh!t-
Hand full of putty maintains the makeup on my face
Arts and crafts display my inner fancy grace
Heavy installed Sheetrock so easily replaced
Tough paint chips away silently through the night
Rigid boards transform into fragile crystal light
The greatest illusion blinding reality
Smooth Tiger Skin, texture of orange simple peel
Beautiful mud swirl, L'Oreal.
Gypsum soft enough you want to touch
Dark walls of a thousand words
A plasterboard of discordant grey notes
Blots and clots of ink, slave my skin
Colorless drywall, resilient to your charms
Printed designs of cleverly decorated lipstick
Morbid shadows underneath the ceiling veil
A double coat of Pacific Waterproof Blue-
Printing bags from -- YESTERDAY!
Plastered wounds of cement dries and roughens along the edge
A human made barrier not even God comes in.
Poem | |
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
Poem | |
Can you feel the warmness of the sun,
reflecting off the red tones of my hair.
The sun touching the edge of my toes!
My seasons true nature ignited by a layer of flares.
Can you feel the stars shine for me at night?
While the moon beams a color of envy.
Can you see me lost underneath the crimson tide in the clouds.
Some where out there my eyes wonder for you.
Can you feel the fresh bruise in my strawberry heart?
As it bleeds every day just for you!
Wondering if life can ever be sweet like sugar and glue.
Crying under the night and its skies is how it would seem.
Lost in a midnight red field in a forever dream.
Can you feel the texture of my wounds?
They feel rugged like rocky mountain sour berries.
Covered in daiquiri as I drown under the rivers current.
Attracting canaries to enjoy my wild strawberries.
Can you feel the wings of my broken dreams?
Here I am falling off the cliff and the feeling of love.
Abandoned like a batch of strawberries for its flaws.
Do you see me standing with a sad look.
Can I show you all them hammer hits I took.
That will be the end of story, to my book.
How my strawberries have beauty that you over looked.
Poem | |
Captain Hook, you shine your Swastika
with the schizophrenic shadows
that followed you to the dimly-lit places
where you attempt to be a Fuhrer,
Herr Doktor und the Gestapo
all wrapped into one --
a one-trick-pony with three phony faces.
The shadows hiss into your ear,
"He is Peter. He is also Peter. She too, is Peter.
They are all Peter!"
Just as the foolish invoke the Devil with repetition,
I will grant your wish, by being Peter The Pan;
your Precious obsession.
I am clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.
Wendy is an inverted double-u:
M stands for the Murderously silent swagger
of Neverland's Cloak and Dagger.
Stalker-Troll, you are emboldened
behind the illusory safety of microchips
and a screen that brightly glows.
Put your false bravado where your hook clacks the keys,
because I play for keeps,
yet know enough to tip the chimney-sweeps.
And the Lost Boys are in tow.
The system lost sight of us
after we aced our exams on William Golding --
yes, Piggy, boys will always....be....boys.
The Lost Boys are Canis Lupus:
Peter and his Wolves
howling at their pearled Goddess.
Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and The Twins
are tracking your scent to under the bridge
where you dine and slumber with Gluttony's swine.
Ignorance, you invoked Pan's gift-bearing countenance
with your fattened, unsmiling jowls,
so here I come clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.
My shadow slinks over there,
but I am hiding over here,
patiently waiting to release you
from the sickness whispering in your ear.
*This is a fictional stab at some Poésie-Noir
for the sake of sentimentality and your entertainment.
Please, enjoy, have a slice.
February 19th, 2014
Poem | |
I am Tim
I am Tim
Tim I am
I do not like
Do you like
green eggs and ham?
I do not like them,
I do not like
green eggs and ham.
CUT CUT CUT.....That's Dr Seuss's Green Eggs and Ham....now why did I start writing that...Oh I know must have been the 500 times I read it to my 4 year old daughter last weekend...I asked her older sister and two older brothers but no I did read them Dad-I-am!
A father of four and proud of them all
Youngest is still short, my oldest- he's tall
Give to them my time, wouldn't have it any other way
Playing tennis, coaching baseball or driving to ballet
Hard worker, they say, a motor that wont quit
Adapt with a hammer, chain saw or drill bit
Not afraid to get dirty, greasy, smelly or wet
Work sun up to sun down with barely a sweat
My friends are my treasures, I hold them real tight
Each one is special but they all are a delight
If they are ever in need, I'm there in a flash
Bringing comfort, happiness, and the occasional cash
I am quick with the wit and enjoy a good laugh
Not too into vanity, a quick shower no bath
I am a lover of woman and a lover of life
I am married to nature she is a great wife
Grew up rough and tumble, clawing for scraps
Volunteer, mentor, teacher, wore many caps
Wear my heart on my sleeve, shy away from a spat
Tim, Timmy, Timothy...I am who I am and that is that
I am contest
I am male
Poem | |
"MARRY ME" -- The Sweethearts Valentine Candy
I write with passion in every line,
A poet bleeding words, in black and white
Elegant, like a fine glass of red wine.
I LOOK INTO YOUR KNIGHTLY EYES!
Pearly paper I unwrap the magazine
I switch the lights to read
Gently I kiss you on the cheek
Tonight my diary reads, LOVE
I walked away, bathing for the night
A beautiful purple Amethyst diary on the nightstand.
The unthinkable; -O' you opened to read
Page 1 - 50 dramatic, and set
You skipped on over to the day we met.
Once I was lost in the twilight
Then I magically found a box of invisible light
There you stood like a diamond ring;
Suddenly my heart began to sing
Your love was more than the beauty that spawned from your soul
Fair and cold like winter blues
January stars following my every move
I treasure every moment we spend like my mother’s cameo
I lifted our memories and time framed them like yesterday
A vintage picture, no one can erase or take away.
You skipped back and, opened a page that spoke about my broken dreams.
Smeared cobalt words in every line (CRYING)
Sapphire Glamour of fancy words
Phrased that I finally found my amulet
He will protect me with unspeakable powers.
Moonstone & Opal = 4ever
My white shiny Pearl, listen to me whatever
SLAMMING the diary shut!!
A piece of paper fell, and you bent over to pick it up.
Your heart skips ---- (when you read your name)
The roads ahead are full of bumps and screams.
I will continue to open every door until I find my dreams.
My sweetest love, soon will come,
May he never dares to change me like the seasons.
My sweetest love, soon will come
Together well enjoy life and respect its reasons.
A sexy man!!
Will come and intrude the glossary of my life!
My sweetest love, soon will come
One day to make me his wife
Today I will write and smile about love
I have no shame in asking the man who stops
By to sneak a peek and read my diary once a week
Will You MARRY ME????
Poem | |
I've searched this land far and wide
Looking for someone to make me whole
You give me that feeling I just can't hide
Coming from way down deep in my soul
Mornings are filled with laughter and joy
Brightening up even the darkest of days
New found hope and desire we can enjoy
Setting our hearts and this world ablaze
The nights filled with stars shining on us
Holding you close, our time will not end
No clouds, no rain, no bothers, nor fuss
My lover, my ally, my forever, my friend
Poem | |
I wish to claim
My yesterday sillyness
My crinkled nose grininess
That hide and seekiness
Spin the bottle
kind of geekiness
My hand in the cookie jarness
That pushing too farness
Collecting comic charminess
Hidden playboy kinda business
Cop a feel inquisitiveness
Being a bit
A true life witness
Loving the mysterious
Laughing more than being serious
What it was all aboutness
Thinking that it lead to freeness
I'd know just how to be ness
Eating what I want
Staying up late kinda keeness
Now I wonder
What was the rushness
To reach adultness
Full of it's doubtiness
What's it all aboutness
I witness it's dreamlessness
It's no longer about me-ness
To much sane-ness
Routine and sameness
No one cares if you cameness
Less is less
And more is moreness
Can't see the trees
Through the dark forest
So grab onto your girliness
I'll bring my boyness
There will be more
No more boringness
We'll spin in circles
Enjoy our dizziness
Is a serious business!
Poem | |
For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania.
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Poem | |
You have always owned that,
I'm surprised you didn't know.
How do I explain without being unkind,
simply, its flow is mine.
There's the barb, my vision puts me on a different flight
I own a non redeemable ticket...a ticket I clutch.
Love and age walk hand in hand.
I've had my sunrise...walking with resolve to my sunset.
I spent too much of my time trying to reach the horizon
now, happy to enjoy the sky's perfect joint with its mate.
Searching for that pot of gold? Some do...but not me.
That sort live with regret. They chased the lie, missed the rainbow.
Not I...I am happy to enjoy the breeze...cool and invigorating.
My heart? You own that. You always will.
At the fork...recently, I chose a different path.
I've looked behind me, I've looked ahead...I'm sorry, my love,
I just don't see you there.
Poem | |
To those who think that poetry must be
of lofty things, not sensuality
To those who write of stars and sun and moon
and who to romance will not ever swoon
To those who write of angst and misery
of all that has gone wrong in history
To those who think I write frivolity
and read not what I write: an oddity!
I write to you, and all my thought's I'll bare
and see if you can argue if you dare
If you’ve forgotten passion's blazing fire
Or how consumed your heart was with desire
If you’ve forgotten romance in the night
Or making love in early morning light
If you’re denied the thrill of ecstasy
And can’t bear witness to its urgency
If you have come of age when health concerns
are all of life that now your mind discerns
I tell you dear, the fault is yours not mine
Devoid of love life meets not plan divine
The gift of love is granted from on high
You can’t deny that even if you try
the pleasure’s woven in anatomy
He formed and blessed our sensuality
To reproduce was in his own design
But also to enjoy the act sublime
There is a little bud that’s meant to thrill
It’s only use is pleasure to fulfill
So tell me, what is life if not for this
To show commitment with the sweetest kiss
In right communion to be drenched in love
And in its throes to glide to heights above
My fellow poet, write of lofty things
And all the finer thoughts that wisdom brings
I pity you for love and passion’s reign
Has banished you from glory with disdain
All nature and all life with love is mixed
And so my mind with passion is transfixed
It’s love that makes this world go round and round
Without it, best be buried underground.
Poem | |
A pair of morning doves preen and prim,
snuggled close on their favorite limb.
And cooing low wake a sleeping sun,
giving praise for a new day begun.
A slip of a ghostly moon rides low,
wearing its light like a pale halo.
And Sol ascends as master of day,
vanquishing dark with brilliant display.
Vapors shed crystalline tears on grass,
depositing dewdrops clear as glass.
And blooming flowers imbue the air,
with a fine fragrance beyond compare.
Tall lanky palms of feathery leaf,
are clad in a green southern motif.
And skittish crabs play tag with the waves,
darting about their collapsing caves.
Sipping fine wine we enjoy the show,
greeting the day with a happy glow.
For as romance and nature combine,
I share my soul with my Valentine.
Poem | |
Their lives begin, that special day
Your hardest job, is on the way.
Walking and pacing, all night long
Knowing that one day, they’ll be strong.
Watching them crawl, then walk and run
Treasure each moment, share their fun.
They grow so fast, enjoy each day
For sometime soon, they’ll move away.
Years of school, sometimes they will drag
We’re filled with pride, we parents brag.
Teaching our kids, always be kind
Lasting friendships, many will find.
Do as I say, not as I do
We all have said, our parents too.
The truth comes out, don’t cheat or lie
Don’t try and skimp, to just get by.
Take the right path, we try to guide
Sometimes they don’t, we let it slide.
Knowing they must, find their own way
Life is tough, on track they must stay.
Bumps in the road, many will hit
We as parents, just have to sit.
Learn from mistakes, it takes its’ toll
Their independence, that’s our goal.
The hardest part, is yet to come
When high school years, are said and done.
We’ve done our jobs, as best we could
We must let go, or so we should.
Give them their wings, and let them fly
As we sit back, and often cry.
Turning the page, is hard to do
Wondering if, they listened to you.
Reach for the stars, follow your dreams
It takes time, forever it seems.
Your heart will break, can’t let it show
It’s so difficult, letting go.
Poem | |
Dearest young leaf,
Why so melancholy?
Thy emerald sheath has not borne Time's folly.
Think not of Autumn's deathly brilliance,
Of colors rich and flaky grounds,
For Thou wilt weep every moment hence,
While Springtime's youth still bounds.
Greet Thy greenness with glee,
For thy root to the Oak remains strong,
Aeolus' fury on Thee has no effect till Summertime gone.
So worry not of what is to come,
Enjoy Thy existence, little one.
Poem | |
Momentary lapses of shyness
within pretentiousness the size of a non-la-hat
offering shade from your sweltering Sun,
confused the boy still residing beneath an exterior
of brashness. A wooing of rose or lotus petals?
Did she not enjoy such frivolity? Wot of a bard
letting words slide through the air like silk,
for I didn't possess such romantic poetry.
No, I embarked upon a journey of false-heroism,
took a bullet, figured it to shape me into a man.
I showed off the wound, blood soaking through the bandages -
you seemed far from impressed by this display of stupidity.
Yet you played coy,
bending over, letting sunlight play through a thin summer dress,
highlighting inner thighs, lines arching up into a dome of dizzy-delirium
so sensual it almost appeared sinful.
At night you'd undress before a naked window,
letting shadows flirt across moonlit dew.
It was all I could do to keep eyes averted,
instead, living on dreams of unwrapping gifts
under the influence of feverish waves,
even though I never forgot to take quinine.
And after all the games,
I had only to stay still long enough for you to complete another sketch,
take its lines, breathe together a new poem,
unleashing torrents of words into my ear.
A funny sort of unconventional, tactile courtship.
You wanted me to listen, to test my patience,
and once your head was emptied out,
heat arose from the bloom, enveloping me in soft petals,
vanquishing my fever, with a different feverish embrace.
Your eyes almost felled me with their complexities
of virginal innocence and a whorish lust. The thrusts,
lips and fingers, the blended push-pull of rhythm and wild abandon
caused me to lose myself long enough,
to find your soul drifting alongside my own,
amongst the stars that had always been shining.
Amongst the light already written before our birth.
June 2nd, 2012
Poem | |
They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
These frivolous creatures,
These knots of desire.
Once spindles of yearning,
Now spools of barbed wire.
Once pulling like petals,
Now pricking like briar.
Once soothing like honey,
Now burning like fire.
It struggles to rise.
The truth comes up gasping
From whirlpools of lies.
Shed this charade
And discard your disguise.
I know you enjoy
Drowning blind butterflies.
Poem | |
I used to live life full of dreams
Planning, for many years to come.
Where I will be, when I will go,
A future that was filled with fun.
Till the day my life was shattered.
Till the day when the hammer struck.
All my dreams now torn asunder
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to duck.
I stood my battles, fought the fight
We gathered and said our goodbyes,
Yet through all of your brave faces,
I could still hear the silent cries.
Last Will and Testament written,
Everything important was said,
“I love you,” still that magic word,
I’d sleep in peace tucked in my bed.
Then something magical happened,
I came back from places of dread.
Now more a part of the living,
Each day I get stronger instead.
Now I know what’s most important
Enjoy precious moments each day,
Learned not to live for tomorrows
That just might not come anyway.
I enjoy each sip of coffee,
Watching leaves turn colours and fly,
Kisses from my sweet little dog,
Every time I see a blue sky.
The music of my Children’s voices,
Love of family never ends,
Carpe Diem, just seize the day,
That is my new motto my friends.
For Regina Riddle’s Contest
Seize the Moment (Carpe Diem)
And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.
Living for the moment makes everything more special.
Poem | |
A beat of drums, a
song of solitude.
A deep and timid
red, so softly hued.
truth is deep like
I come to play, if
playing Queen is
A love is tempting,
lust is just a game.
I steal a kiss as
fears do turn from
A sigh, a tie, I
twist in pleasures
I close my eyes,
A song of sex, a
dance, I need to
The sound of
near my ear.
I tie a rope around
a willing wrist.
A tie so red it
makes the roses
A puppet, pawn, my
game is chess, I
A check, my mate, be
ready to begin.
I feast on pain and
Enjoy the time
behind the dark red
Poem | |
This is a short piece for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I lost a close friend very talented, very young to breast cancer. I also lost my cousin recently to the same disease. I hate that ugly "C" word. I just wrote this story to highlight the relationship North American men have with women's breasts. I hope it is taken in the spirit that it is written.
I don't have to try not to look at a woman's cleavage,
I love looking into their eyes.
I love listening to them talk.
I enjoy listening to a woman's point of view.
It enlightens me.
It gives me views of the world that I would otherwise miss.
I appreciate their nurturing nature.
I like how soft they feel.
Hold a woman's hand?
That is sure to send shivers up my spine.
If that is not what heaven feels like
send me else I'll take my chances there.
There is nothing like that first kiss.
I can walk all day with her as if it were a minute in time.
I float on air.
I am a romantic.
I adore women.
I love the way they walk
the way they smell.
Hugging or spooning it's all good.
The opposite sex is very special.
It is time we listened more and appreciated more.
Women can lead us to the proverbial
I like staring at their tits.
Poem | |
I’m standing outside gazing at the houses nearby
How beautiful the decorated lights twinkle into the sky
While mirrored snowflakes cascade down in colors we enjoy
Bringing on the magical feeling of Christmas joy
Winter’s blanket lays rested upon the cold ground
Wearing a warmth onto the earth through its sparkling crown
Glistening crystals that reflect a canvas made of ice
A painting of pure nostalgic Christmas in white
Outside remains carolers singing their songs of praise
Bringing on a deep happiness that only Christmas can create
Even voices are heard from every little girl and boy
Celebrating the peace and harmony that comes with Christmas joy
Soon, Christmas will pass yet will come again next year
Hoping we’ll keep capturing its splendor to fill our hearts so dear
As we continue the warmth from a winter’s blanket we all once worn
Cherishing this is the day where our savior was born
Poem | |
Here we lie face to face
How I long for your embrace
I'll just lie still and enjoy the view
cause baby I'm in love with you
My path has been arduous like a black swan's song
But finally, I am with you all night long.
Feeling your hand upon my cheek
Your voice smoky and sweet.
Pleasuring the depths of my mind
I'll be yours til the end of time
My heart racing for your touch
Yearning for this night so much
You slipped silently, into my soul
Fed my dream and made me whole
I think of you at all times
This rose bleeds between the lines
Each breath I take, each beat of my heart
You've had me from the very start
Your words, your touch, your soul so sweet
With you my peach, my life's complete
Strong emotions, sweetest smiles, reflect beauty in your eyes.
Fiery passion, ardent love, cascade our feelings to the skies
Poem | |
Unconditional, I hide no longer.
His friendship touched me and made me stronger.
Never face to face, type to type on screen.
For his words I hunger, poetic feign.
Secrets exposed in a safe secure place.
His heart, my hands, a smile on each face.
We dance upon the keyboards in plain sight.
Entertaining you every single night.
Whether a duet or riding solo.
His warmth fills me where ever I go.
Only months has past but he is the best friend.
Strength in the beginning, never will end.
To my poetic partner, I dig you.
How I enjoy this dancing that we do.
For contest: Sonnet on intimate relationships
Sp. regina riddle