Best Contents Poems
What is inside a human heart
Is it sunshine warm and bright
Maybe fluffy soft white clouds
Or a full moon on a dark still night
Is there precious perfumed flowers
Or a peaceful gentle rain
The glistening of a calm ocean
Or a stunning sunrise or sunset again
Is it full and abundant with laughter
Or brimming with memories and life's treasures
Perhaps simply overflowing with pure love
At the awe of life’s pleasures
I would love to taste every inch of your body
caress your nipples slide my tongue over them
then down to your thighs to taste you there
sending wave after wave of tingling sensations
coursing through your body as you build up and up
My finger tips glide down the small of your back
teasing your tight buttocks as I take you oh so high
I lightly and slowly do an erotic dance tenderly I kiss
the insides of your thighs until you quiver
pulsating with desire hotly awaiting
An intense erotic release
I guide you within and hold you tight
as we join in that age old well known dance
together exploding passionately
into that little death washed by aftermath waves
fully sated we drift away
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
11/18/2013
contest Charlotte's Scorchers: Erotic/Sensual Poetry
Packed up my suitcase
with the weight of emptiness
and left a note beside
your whiskey glass
‘bout the things we would not give
Walked out the front door
that sheltered us inside
the climate of affection
and the frail things
we kept alive
If in your fruit cellar you find
My jar, you need not be perplexed
When one day the label reads
"Canned peach preserves";
And on another day, "cubed dills";
Or if you find upon opening
Nothing of the label of contents.
have you lost your mind
not that I'm aware of
just another flat penny train wreck
let's survey the blaspheming survivors
an army of gossiping lawn trolls
have been detected in your garden
do you
a. get out of bed
b. run screaming into the night
c. splash a little more gin
into the horn of screeching hell
that feathered chaos aviary
thronged with hollow boned creatures
squawking their disapproval
memory stolen with our sense of origin
histories plowed into an infertile soil
the old ways must perish from life
digitized of course as a memento
another nest of rubber yardsticks
for the lofty lords of unknowing
nothing to be salvaged from that oblivion
unquestioning at all costs a failure
not of nerve but of curiosity
when meaning slides sideways
and includes far more than intent
and you wonder who is in charge of mystery
words pierce the darkness up to a point
and that's when the thievery starts
and the leg irons bite into flesh
their jackal locksmith dangle the key
hi I'm an anthropologist
and if you don't mind too terribly
I'd like to pry deeper into your case
with a few harmless questions
all that meaning has got to go somewhere
how is it possible to be smart and stupid
at the same time and not know it
meanwhile our vulgarities flourish
clumsily navigating the unspoken reality
noble as a Mafia paycheck
in the cloaked world of two worlds
the hidden system of engineered ignorance
the Planned Insanity Dept.
calling for another lynch mob party
toad licking swamp thing
biggest bang for the bling
its statue missing arms and head
a winged tragic marker for all to see
the fog machine has spoken
Oh say can you see;
What the contents of the continents mean to me.
It's all in the Word, I have heard;
But just the same, watch what's in the name.
CRIME is in America, Oh say, can you see;
It's scrambled, can you see it, C R I M and E.
No matter what laws are passed or legislators do;
Crime will always be in America....yes unfortunately it's true.
Over in Africa, you can make a prediction;
That you will always see "FRIC" which is short for friction.
There will always be confilicts, struggles and strife;
That will be the Africans way of life.
In Australia look and you will see;
It will take US to TRAIL or destiny.
Don't you see it, look real hard;
Please let you destiny lead to God.
Look in Asia, can you see?
If you can see, say SI I can see.
YES is in there, si or is,
Please look at it 'cause that's the way it 'tis.
Look in Europe, what do you find;
Try and let POUR into your mind.
It's a continent where great discoveries are made;
And POUR over into other accolades.
There are seven continents, as were there seven churches;
And as you look at the names see what lurches.
The continents were established as the world was being framed;
Amazing how they all live up to their name.
Alone in a room,
alone within eminent doom.
I simmer so deep in saturation
that I forget that isolation happens in extended duration.
For the sake of direction, I reference past chapters
to avoid tried and true mistakes and repetitious history thereafter.
As I join the table of strong black figures, questions illustrate my mind
I intend to lose my confusion at the front door and be of my new kind,
with direction, motivation, inspiration, drive, vision, and the like, I tend to be inclined,
inclined to emulate, intended to be redesigned, inspired to be refined.
Shown to face the world as an aligned mastermind to combat those whom are unkind.
Being shown a newly created direction to lead the blind.
Exchanging life perspectives for comfort of respectability.
Soul-searching for our places within the construct of social responsibility,
To aspire to be part of the solution for such socially inept communication issue,
I can be in one’s presence for hours and I would fondly feel that I miss you.
Being made whole with my surrounds of love, compassion, and point of view,
makes me want to make a less transient interaction more potent and just as true.
As tried and true as doing it all on my own is, the acknowledgement is necessary.
My confession is that I never had such closeness such as this is such a necessity.
I adore those who view me in the best light for truth and loyalty is rare.
To invite me into life as a regular family member and to present the perfect life to me is beyond fair.
To demonstrate compassion in my darkest hour was followed by my doing a double take.
The love and care restored my humanity and the invitation into heaven rectified my faith.
ambitions
interests
projects
Wham, bam
What's up?
Whatcha got?
Can ya hang with me?
I've got ten on the fact that you couldn't even
bang with me.
I've got words to spit;
I've got games to play,
I've got a one-up on you,
much to your dismay.
If you stick with me it'll be all
gravy;
boat sinks
and the turkey is gone.
Dumb-
bell falls and his whole ideal is done.
Pen breaks bread and it is settled for once
you've done it you will never go back-
wards step into oblivion.
Oblivious to what it all means,
Step forward in thought into my dream machine.
It is fast becoming rampant,
The whole thing: perfect irritant:
Baring screened-off contents of pants
Guilty: old dames and debutantes
And these pants are exorbitant,
Uncomplaining buyer brilliant!
Freedom continues to seeds plant
Crossed Christians turning militant,
Who would wearer waste or her pants,
New growing mistrust of fired rants,
Towards shaming violence slant
No more to assaults an “I can’t.”
But what would women establish
In pants that their contents publish?
Arson murder of 9 persons after the content of the tailor shop was stored in the garage Ciro Gargano his business Partner fireman gene Kalinowski the great cover up resulting in many more arson murders back off me with terrorist threats my prayers are with the fire captain who perished in that garage I’m totally reminded of Gargano arson murders 9 people died I have no fear of your intimidation very sad when city officials working for a wannabe crime boss covering up his arson murders doesn’t matter who you send to light the match set the blaze lives are taken I know what you did how you hide behind the undesirables to set blazes in garages trash cans tailor shops Fbi warned me my life would forever be in danger today my Chicago flag is hung in memory of all the lives that persished in your fires
This Table Of Contents
will continue to grow
with All Creatures Great & Small
that I have come to know
*
http://pale-males-first-love.critters.com/main.php?action=view&mem_id=7302&page_no=4
We pack each little box
Until it’s full of memories.
Unpack when we arrive each day.
Like spring, when daffodils are new.
We put ourselves inside each word,
Stuffing the tattered, and ragged edges
Of each memory with a lubricant of feeling.
Inside, each emotion pressing outward to be free,
Not fitting into such tiny boxes.
Reading the poets and trying to be like them.
Communicating in glorious ways;
Bending ears, Bringing tears,
Giving the gift of giving-in.
Suturing the fractured,
Making every moment whole,
An ecstasy of living.
Finding the glory in being.
A duty of selflessness,
The humility of altruism.
Impulses shared to enlighten,
Fan multitudes like prospered wheat,
Making bright the common direction
Of swaying flames.
A breeze of words that carries all baggage
Until we wake.
Then, In the morning, we return.
Unpack each captured vastness of feeling,
Let it breathe until an end arrives.
Then pack again and make them fit
Into these small containers we call words.
You wrote your deepest passionate thoughts, dear Mama,
Odes, or a sonnet, penned without undue drama.
I sang those lyrics many times, calling your name
They were your legacy; never sounded the same
As when you gathered us toddlers into your arms,
And sang sweetly to us from your verses and psalms.
Times together none of us can ever erase
The resonance of your voice, the smile on your face.
You wrote from your innermost being, dear Mama
Losing you brought all of us children great trauma.
We searched for comfort among your beautiful things
Your hair ribbons, your pictures, your gold wedding rings,
But nothing consoling was found among your frocks
Like the pages you saved in your red-ribboned box.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written March 6, 2021
Submitted to "Poetry As Legacy" Contest
Sponsored by Line Gautier
We See the Package,
God Views its Contents
6-15-2016
The package that a person is wrapped in,
Tells us nothing about the contents inside;
Not who they are, or where they’ve been,
Or things, that from others, they can hide;
In judging a person simply by visual aspect,
We miss what lies concealed within their heart.
We see, a pretty face and how it’s bedecked,
And make decisions which aren’t too smart.
Only God doesn’t look at the outward man,
But at heart content and all things he’s done;
That’s why it pays to have a Godly game plan,
For any past transgressions can’t be undone.
Just Forgiven!