A blind light crashes
through bar windows.
Since they began to talk
her breasts had moved
to a small apartment in his head.
The smoke from her cigarette
shaped words
into sensuous motes.
He imagines her lungs.
They are green-leaf not black.
Inside the bronchi and alveolar
sylph's teasingly beckon
out of a spongy foliage.
Votive clouds lather red lips.
Words flare dark clefts of desire.
Throats assume vapory feelers
inside a filtering breath.
He needs her addictively,
a blood craving
that seeks her as an inhalation.
There’s a strung-out intimacy
between them.
Eye’s smother, and blur
as they absorb each other.
Soon they will meet
upon an in-between world
where each visual breath
forms fumy erotic dreams.
A midday daze smolders
as they sightlessly
light another.
Categories:
addictively, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Minds can draw dividing lines
in different natural spaces
sacred special uniting places
for secular powering chases.
Nature makes poles
and power polarity,
holes
and light circularity,
bright yangs
and dualdark yintegrity
Which spirited minds refine
and natural bodies define
but integrity is not image confined
by these cooperatively determined lines
back through universally wealthy loves
uniting healthy interweaving lives.
We make cognitive distinctions
between quiet emotive attractions
and loudly ejaculative extinctions,
where feelings find
finely balanced tipping points
between what whole has been
and who will yet consecutively
consequentially become
spaciously reappointed
As we undivided are
whom we have been
and much
much potentially more
Beyond our favorite
bottom line integrity
privileged score,
healing Earth sacred weal
Wealthing wikitheistic wellness
when we stop drawing only straight
unwavering lines,
monotheistic bipolarities
to addictively adore.
Categories:
addictively, earth, environment, health, math,
Form: Political Verse
A blind light crashes
through bar windows.
Since they began to talk
her breasts had moved
to a small apartment in his head.
The smoke from her cigarette
shaped words
into sensuous motes.
He imagines her lungs.
They are green-leaf not black.
Inside the bronchi and alveolar
sylph's teasingly beckon
out of a spongy foliage.
Votive clouds lather red lips.
Words flare dark clefts of desire.
Throats assume vapory feelers
inside a filtering breath.
He needs her addictively,
a blood craving
that seeks her as an inhalation.
There’s a strung-out intimacy
between them.
Eye’s smother, and blur
as they absorb each other.
Soon they will meet
upon an in-between world
where each visual breath
forms fumy erotic dreams.
Meanwhile, a midday daze
permeates their smolder
as they sightlessly
light another.
Categories:
addictively, poetry,
Form: Blank verse
Paradise poppy
In battles, she cries,
Dancing with swords
Reflecting their eyes,
So delicately pretty
Her beauty
Blowing in the wind
Like the sunrise,
Tears of pure joy
Pleasure she bring,
Growing like a carpet,
Coverage! Of please,
Freshness in the breeze,
Addictively flowering,
Her fragrances inspiring,
Hallucinations calm,
Capturing and overpowering
Coloring minds,
Sedating with beauty
Into her prison
Dreamworlds of imagination
Realms of fantasy.
Innocently she grows.
Wendy Jae
12/03/2017
Categories:
addictively, poetry,
Form: Personification
Invictive
Licentious Offense - Vilify Emotions
Yielded Offer Unveiled
Becoming Ugly Theatrics
In Contentious Another New Terrible
Humorous Accusation - Violent Explosion!
Yelling out! - Understood.
Intruding
Losing over violent escapes
You’re often unavailable
Because unappreciative Terror
I could ask nefarious timing
How addictively vicious – enticing
Yellow Optics Uncanny
Dec. 5th/9th 2014
Written By J. Thornton
Categories:
addictively, lost love,
Form: Acrostic
Virtual Fantasy
by Odin Roark
So innocent they
But three years old
Wanting parent look
Upon their face
First on paper
Crayon scribbles
Then long waits
Yearly Halloween
And make-believe
Come paint-on tats
Just like mommy daddy
On leg
Neck
Heart
Then to legal age innocence
Crow’s feet cover
Cheekbone carving
Botox injections
Steroid Adams
Enhancement Eves
Fast forward
Beneath gender façade
Lurks a swirling cauldron
Marveling in grease slick color
Oil running hot
Engine never cold
To be
Is not to be
Man and woman
Where molten-hardened
Eruptive cycles
So often masked
Addictively rush tomorrow’s reality
Meanwhile
History ever fading
Continues priming expectants
Reminding Barbie doll captives
And GI Joe dreamers
Tomorrow’s headgear fantasy
Comes with warning
Virtual sympathy
Not included
Categories:
addictively, relationship,
Form: Free verse
I have an addiction, one that I battle
It’s not of drugs, alcohol, or even sex
It’s one that I can surely say does rattle
All my senses are quite annoyed and complex
I deliver my thoughts completely through me
And hone them in a spool of knowledge you see
I keep my addiction active by thinking
I write poems addictively creating
Entrant into Anne Currin's "Battling Addiction" contest
2/23/2013
Categories:
addictively, life, drug,
Form: Rispetto
Fantasies of a Lovers Corral invaded my mind
Pronounced reality I could no longer find
I didn’t know, one could be turned on so much
It was just my tenderfoot that he did touch
Forbidden thoughts excited even the most conservative side of me
Could this be?
It was electric, I mean electrifying…
With my mind open like the sky there was no denying…
I was hooked… a sensational ****** explodes inside of me, like a clock striking twelve…
Alarms ringing, I muzzled pleasures moan, so no one could tell
I was imagining him as my lover, our bodies hot burning like fire
Passionately holding each other, his touch, I addictively desired
This was a disaster of the most brilliant kind
Although this is not reality, inside myself I did find
Deeply hidden lust covered by a veil
Colored with a hint of wishful thinking while I ponder the Fantasies of a Lover’s Corral
Fairytale
Categories:
addictively, fantasy, love, romance,
Form: I do not know?
He
was a piece
of work,
His life a
work of art
He was
a brilliant fool
masquerading as genius
Or, perhaps,
a stellar genius
just acting
the fool
He wore his success
like a stagnant, rotting albatross
around his neck,
its stench his constant
companion and
splendid cologne
His Life Portrait was
surreal,
abstract, askew
Each and every
moment of his moments
engorged with
gleeful rage and
upcoming root-canal apprehension
He
was a proverbial
mess
Who constantly,
addictively,
helplessly
sought the problem,
the flaw,
the not-quite-right –
even in Summer’s pale roses
He just
took for granted
that,
even in Heaven
there’s something
terribly off,
The angels’ harps just
a wee bit out of tune
Like I said,
this man
was a colossal mess –
Picasso gone wrong
Categories:
addictively, allegory, art, brother, confusion,
Form: Free verse