Best Caressingly Poems
Atmospheres afire with devotional dynamic desire
I call scarlet jasmine crimson vermillion and ruby red
We are caught in a crossfire as we perkily perspire
And cupid carries our hearts to our betrothed bed
Angels dancing on choreographic clouds entrancing
Rainbows reunite over melodious meadows green
Our love advancing with rhythmic rivers romancing
Celestial counting on the midnight’s stardust cuisine
Two sensuous souls entwine and carousingly combine
Our ebullient hearts of eternity lost in orchestral oblivion
We shall everlastingly dine with roses and wedded wine
And our love will softly sail across the majestic meridian
For we have caressingly called on cupid for a love divine
In ambient adoring skies that the harmonic heavens align.
July.25.2017
Best romantic write May-July 2017
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Breezes brush through the window caressingly,
soft fanning wings powdering my skin;
night's black velvet pricked only by the porch light's glow.
Alone, I feel no fear. Gliding the dark, my twin
has turned gossamer wings toward my tiny light-
metamorphosed--a radiant night creature.
I breathlessly await like culminating event,
faith strengthened by this moth miracle of nature.
Heaven's windows are always flung wide open;
the porches blaze in one eternal, flaming light.
Souls released from dull cocoon entrapments
wing into endless day free of sin's blight.
Life's thin film is splitting, revealing the heart;
spirit wings unfurl, lift and upward start.
Copyright, November 2, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Autumn,
quixotic dreams,
broken summer, fallen,
dramatic colors are screaming,
softly.
Walking
over snapping
twigs, echoed melodies.
Metallic tasting cooling breeze,
whispers.
Gentle,
fluttering leaves
tickle aspirant skin,
falling caressingly from trees,
teasing.
Serene
setting calling,
lazy fragrant autumn
flowers echo stained foliage,
beauty.
10/23/15
To be a woman, there is a lot of wonder
There are lots of beauty secrets to ponder
That goes beyond the powder
That breathes the living power
Leggings and shorts seize the moment
Maxi dresses and mini skirts twirl in enjoyment
Flowers and blossoms of spring make a statement
Coats and furs of winter cover with endearment
Eye brushed the turtlenecks caressingly soothe
Hair styled each line and curl is made smooth
The heels and bags all live in the couture truth
The woman in her shines in a beautiful cool
In tights and ice cream she shows
Self esteemed within her, outside of her she knows
Yang: What is the difference between a theist and an atheist?
Yin: A bicamerally balancing ego/eco-teleologist.
Yang: Well, so what's that; a teleologist?
Yin: You, if you believe the Earth is your co-gravitational
(0)-double-binding mind-spirit/body-nature center
epi-center
of wealthy egonomic
and healthy ecopolitical values,
each with equi-valent
ego/ecological
transgenerational health-care
deep wealth meaning merit.
Yang: So, who wouldn't believe that?
Yin: Probably no one.
Yang: So, why, exactly, is this an issue I need to look at right now?
Yin: Because, if you are an ecological panentheist,
then you are also a (0)-interest
co-invested bodhisattva peace warrior
poli-economist,
presumably.
Yang: Wow, I really did not see that climax coming at all!
Yintegrity: Yes, well, I get that all mind/body bipartisan time.
YangBright: Hmmm.... I can see purpose Now i
n sort of a 4D WinWin Cooperative Here
Ego/EcoOccupyers
Rejoining RNA Tribal Purpose
unfolding dialectical
exponential
deep fractal meaning
kinda' organic sacred WuWays.
YinPower: Don't rush, reframe our collateral flow issues,
in alpha(0)mega double-binding poli-economic
nondual crown/rooted
mind-dawn/body-dark
respirating EarthNature's
dipolar teleological appositions.
YangLight: You flow on too darkly rooted much
for optimally repurposed fire-power.
YinPower: Invest less in competing economic partial-trusts
and politically disharmonic insufficiency
of loving sacred beauty.
Instead,
invest in repurposing
every co-engaging
meaning-full
experiential expedition
only where your economic health flows out
our cooperative climatic inflow
of politically multicultural wealth.
YangMind: Ah, yes,
I see
our MidWay Zen
mutual reflection again,
where my Tao wealth
caressingly embraces your cooperative health
of coarising egomind/ecobody-engagement
Right purposeful proportion,
eco-dominant meaningful balance,
light's radiant fractal frequencies
of regenerative logos-dawn/mythos-dusk
Yang/yin
pregnant/absent
positive/double-binding negative,
appositional boundaries of co-balancing light
and prime co-relational powers.
YinPower: And you think I flow out too much feeling!
Woes of the past, made a heart of glass
Hardened by time, this heart of mine
Frozen as though ice, how utterly nice
Bittersweet is cupid's arrow, pierced the heart of a sparrow
Slowly the sun's warming rays caressingly melting me away
So gentle so tender my heart has surrendered
Flickering in— out.
Wounds stitched with fidgeting,
Fisted finality.
She is.
She was.
There was a dream for which I was awake,
A glorified foolishness and tragic mistake.
Love—O love!
Like a feverish thief, she reels,
From my arms to the bed—
From my head over heels.
O, you beautiful disaster,
You fictitious lure,
You ponderous nothingness,
Imprudent and impure.
Like petals, I shed,
Nude and undone.
Sheared and severe—
A moon without sun.
Swiftly I buckled at your unfettered charm,
As your fingertips caressingly weaved down my arm.
And surrendered myself like a teetering child,
Standing aghast at the gate to the wild.
Liar.
The word yanks at the stitches that burst unsewn,
Shrieks into the deafness of happiness once known.
Now I know.
Now I do.
How I had such grandiose feelings for you—
They were as slippery as god;
They were thick and reeked of rain.
And though jarred and disenchanted,
They somehow still remain.
Even so, you are just a thing,
With one mouth and two eyes.
And kissable lips that fleetingly dripped
The most gorgeous string of lies.
Silently, she lies there fast asleep
While insomnia makes love to me
Up her torso the nightdress creeps
Exposing her naked skin to see
I dare not wake her with wet lips
Pressed against her tempting flesh
But I do adjust the covers a little bit
To display her perfect breasts
I have been admiring her for several hours
My eyes have adjusted to the absent light
Each passing minute weakens my powers
To let her peacefully pass through the night
She rolls over and brushes against me
My resolve is losing its grip
Lightly, I explore her caressingly
Arousing my fingertips
I will leave it up to your imagination
To finish how the remaining night went
Just know at the morning's destination
My mind and body were totally spent
Delicately, I hold the soft smooth petals
Tracing each edge of the curve
Gently enough not to render any harm
Beckoning is the silky feel of inches swell
Can't help to sweat
Can't stop to tremble
I maximize the wonderful experience
Shattering defense with strong willed cause
Panting and blowing
Breath stopping with each alternate pause
Petals bloom in bright bloody red
Rockets of joy from a travel hours of thorns
The one pistil blossomed with life
Made all expectators clap and yell
The stamen soothed the petals
Tenderly lovingly and caressingly
By
Olive Eloisa
5:10 pm
May 05, 2015
------------------------
Sponsor Jerry T Curtis
Contest Name N/A
2nd place
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"
These very lines created my sound
Wove dreams of gold, spun silken thoughts
Words resounded, thoughts surrounded revolt
Twelve and undecided, these words honed my soul
Try as I might, they created in my mind
Words of truth, words with delight
Serenely, caressingly, certainly contrite
Truer words were told, yet undue thought was heeded
Yet like music these flowed, cajoled, sublimely needed
Aaah yes Wordsworth inspired and Shakespeare he aided
These masters they guided, and deliriously I decided
Poetry would reflect me, my very intimate soul
It would mould, and tease, and thereby make me whole!!
Superstition! that horrid incubus which dwelt in darkness, shunning the light, with all its racks, and poison chalices, and foul sleeping draughts, is passing away without return. Religion cannot pass away. By Thomas Carlyle
Incubus weaves a titillating tale.
Swathed in a velvet flame that stirs the soul.
Trembling and relieved, I sought trial,
In the little death of the cyanide hole.
I dip my toes deeper into the sand
The ocean feels akin to a million diamonds.
Clad in azure plaid, I lie a breeze in my hand
I have the sense to fall in love with this island.
Epoch is similar to a roller coaster.
Yet I'm not tied down properly.
Perhaps I shouldn't proceed any faster.
My hands are busy with the air around me.
Sporadically I worry over the future
I wonder how much fear I have allowed.
Struggled to maintain, came up to bode suture
That seems to be the marvel among the crowd.
But now, I've attempted to understand
I must be the one controlling the wheel.
Whatever the future holds, steadfast stand.
Without trepidation, all triumphs might feel.
I'll be here no matter what happens tomorrow
I shall thus desist from being a layer of the hive.
It proves to be the root of my shared sorrow.
Will I favor water over wine yet still be safe to drive?
Were we given to a succubus or an incubus?
Stars veiled by a few straws will soon appear.
The final site has incubus tombs or mage insipidus.
It cast a dark shade across the earth and is near.
I'll be there no matter what happens tomorrow
In the midst of anguish, that would compel.
I'll be there no matter what happens tomorrow.
With eyes and arms, a soul never hurts to love well.
Let us adore ourselves before it becomes a crime.
The white moon is caressingly rising in a blue sight.
How acute a day, relies on how well you are sublime.
This story makes my future appear so bright.
1st place contest winner
Written: March 07, 2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 35 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
I feel the warmth, of a pre summer -spring breeze
gently, caressingly, ohhh it's so nice.
My hair, a tingly feeling throught my spine.
You and the spring breeze.
I reminisce of a Happy time!
Of ice cream cones, a dripping,
Sunlite beaches,
with a babe, a playing.
That traffic noise, is so distracting.
But, at a stop, engines humming.
There is an unknown energy, in the air
Summer is coming!
Spring is Here!
Sigh (Infinity symbol)
Your damage leaves a scent like the way gun powder smells
I’m the only store where your hurtful ammunition sells
I'm the ground that carries the weight of your bullet shells
The fireworks fall and rest like confetti
And I know you’ve shot someone already
In the fields where our quenchable love comes first
And the flowers ceaselessly bloom, then burst
When the cravings of earth exhume your thirst
How do we stay here in this hydrating state
Of mind? How can we forever emancipate
Our time? When my world casts me strange,
Will you care that it’s clothes will change?
When the night caressingly undresses space
And the things that made us one tear apart,
When you catch the dreams that you chase
Through the endless corridors of your heart,
Will you remember my phantasmal face?
Or will you forget the words of my sighing art?
When your facing the darkening mirrors of the estuary
And your closest friends revolt the reign that you carry,
When you become an adapting smolt
And you struggle to swim in exult,
Will you still keep the fear of death?
Or will you leave it to your last breath?
When there’s nothing left for my heart to conceal,
Will you return to me, the life that you steal?
Will you still be here in my need?
When all I’ve got are troubles to bleed?
When the sea pulls me from the deck
And all I’ve got is a ship wreck,
Will you pull me from the waves like the moon?
Or will you slowly fade away like morning fades to noon?
As you weave the woven waters of the ocean
And everything is washed in the breath of the tide
As you adapt to this chameleon society
And every color you feel is hard to confide
As you weightlessly wade your way
Through calamitous days of time
May the iridescent rays of your heart
Forever reside in a love as boundless as the sky
Through static and steam
We shatter
Through sleep and dream
We scatter
Through the infinite sighs…
We breathe
It’s All Good
M. Griswold
120203
Slobbering kisses ain't so bad
and slippery tongues are grand to be had.
Tender touches with back sliding hands
are caressingly shivering and sensually rad.
Warm oil rubbings from head to feet
leaves one wanting for something horney to eat.
Nibbling on nobs is nastily sweet
while rustling in bushes is a tasty treat.
Hot steamy showers with scented colored soaps
brings heated bed wrestling with dripping naked hopes.
Whips and straps, tassels and ropes
bind in ways of tangled frenzied gropes.
Tickling adds rolling giggling spice.
A form of foreplay to succulently entice.
Let’s not forget that vibrating device
which can be used in any orifice to suffice.
And in closing as you knew I would
let me add just one more thing if I could.
We are all human and sex is a likelihood
so loosen up a little cause it's all good.
Another fine spring day gently dying,
Subtle variegated colors and
Tender vivid greens are dappled now
With golden flecks and dollops of buttery sunlight.
Shadows begin their mysterious, meticulous
March across flowers and shrubbery
As they lengthen and deepen closer to the ground.
Standing at my open study window,
I can feel the struggling, waning sun
Slanting softly across my face
As it caressingly bids me a reluctant au revoir.
A palpable silence descends and seems to reign for a moment.
The very air outside appears to shimmer, almost to vibrate,
As if alive with a joyful, youthful exuberance
Too frenetic to be contained.
Through the open casement a renegade breeze steals craftily in,
Brushes my cheeks with cool tantalizing fingers,
And brings with it the seductively heady perfume of a burgeoning earth.
My body strains to embrace
And merge with this welcome newness
As the random thought occurs to me that people are like the spring.
Both are from the past and live many lives,
But, unlike the past which is dead,
Something that is over and cannot return
Except in memory,
People, like the earth each spring,
Reawaken, reinvent themselves and move on.
I, too, feel alive, joyous, youthful and exuberant
As this notion, like the sheer curtains at my window,
Is caught by that cunning, inveigling breeze
And flutters out again like a capricious spirit escaping.