Best Lusted Poems
When Dorothy and Tin Man were dating
She didn’t prepare for the mating
Til’ she heard a bang
And shouted out, “Dang,
Something inside there’s inflating”
Since Dorothy’s one chick he lusted
Poor Tin said he was disgusted
Coz there was no oil can
Nearby them at hand
To free up his zipper now rusted
As Tin was kissing Dorothy’s lips
He sadly knew he had to come to grips
‘Til she yelled, “My man
I’ll open your can
Coz in my purse I brought some tin snips!”
To hear me would sound like a symphony of octaves –
played all at once with concrete fingers
on diamond in the rough strings.
To see me…O’, to see me you would have to turn,
ever so slightly sideways, to ensure proper exposure –
one would not wish to either scar his or her retinas
with too much light; or murder their spirits with silky
raven on a moonless night, darkness. No, no. That
is far too much for the eyes to bear.
To touch me would be like dipping warm fingertips into
a pool of liquid mercury; like the sun’s rays beneath
the water, touching the ocean’s deepest silver depths.
The scent of me would bring your waiting nose to a
dichotomy of frenzy – one side wanton, and as eager
as a schoolboy with a playboy – but the other side!
The other nostril would shrivel under scrutiny; buckle under
the burning scent of disgust and unrefined madness, as if you
were smelling your own death, not the florid scent of Eden.
And to taste me…to taste me would leave the tongue
as twisted as a winter apple’s branches; as torn as a wool
tartan from the shoulder’s of a traitor; and as confused
as a year without Spring. To taste me would be like
tasting every dream you ever lusted, and every ending
that ever broke you – like sipping lemonade in the void.
But…if you are the one; the only one in the midst of all
this impenetrable chaos who can sense me, beyond
the average man’s malleable stone-walled borders –
than I bid you come. Test the likes of this diamond
against your rough-hewn backdrop – try me on for size;
see if you have the stones to not. Get. Cut.
*Inspired by Nathan Leccese's Diamond in the Rough, contest. :)
We read about the slaughter in a place far overseas,
where the multicultural blending has been there for centuries.
Where church of all denominations have been standing side by side.
Where neighbours have been neighbourly; respect seemed to abide.
Seems that politics and power can infiltrate a settled mind;
dig up and open wounds of what is yours and what is mine,
take citizens back into time and drag out all their roots …
be wary of your ogre neighbour, they have a gun that shoots.
Begin to see those simple folk who lived their simple lives,
follow restlessly and blindly as belief or race revives,
those that helped them yesterday really had a cunning plan,
all they really wanted was, to find a way to cut you down.
Throw them all out on the streets; run them out of town.
Ethnic cleanse the country to make it pure and sound.
If they refuse to leave our home and opt to make a stand -
build a force of vigilantes, to roam and cut them down.
What started as a trickle soon turns into a flood.
The cup that fills with honey can also be filled with blood.
The taste that once was bitter now is the taste that's lusted for,
when seeking out the enclaves to go killing more and more.
A house, once a home of peace stands a shattered monument,
to let the remnants hanging on know what to expect.
Heads displayed on pikes are cheered; graves hold hundreds more.
Babes are sport for bayonets; forgot is what we're fighting for.
Can't live side by side now; there's too much terror going on.
Battle lines are clearer; the sane have taken leave and gone.
Cannons roaring day and night; lines must stand holding fast.
For anyone that's over-run, that day becomes their last.
When the dust has settled and the criminals are hung,
Hate subsides back to the memory; the clean-up has begun.
Do we realize as bloodstains fade; we have a deep rooted call …
needing one spark to set us off - there could be murder in us all.
The folded corners and wrinkled pages
of catalogs that were tattered and ripped
From the first of October until late in December
we drooled,
we fawned,
we lusted,
we swooned and giggled
mutilating each page
until the pictures faded.
Sears and Roebuck,
Monkey Wards
JC Penny’s,
Macy’s, Mattingly’s, K-mart.
Our wish list grew long
more than one sheet could hold
tears welled up with each toy crossed out.
Until the list was whittle down
Though the likelihood of getting any was nill.
But still
That’s why we called it the book of wishes.
If wants and wishes were hugs and kisses
There would be no need
to thumb through the pictures
and dream.
Perhaps imagination was the best Christmas gift
She stands vulnerable, confident and excited
Delicate hands, arms deliberately sided
A soft etching to art and beauty enlivened and lusted.
My love for her is quite stormy
Like dark drifting clouds of agony
As her windswept hair lashes my effrontery.
The water falls from the eyes crazy
And blinds me to her beauty
Dragged down by a heart heavy.
The heart in a sad sea of terrible tears
It makes my conscience shivers
And finally disappears
+++++++
March 17, 2014
Form: Triplet - a short form not available on PS
Fourth Place Win
Contest: Heart And Soul by Kelly Deschler
Crimson lips, lovers awaken with a kiss
Creamy white skinned Goddesses resting
In a time where Socrates lusted after Sappho's
Poetry and art.
The Grecian people worshiped her with
her beauty and exquisite prose. On the wings
of her art she played enchanting music arranged
for immortality.
Golden chariots in fields of apples bold,
yet, solitary like one fallen from the tree,
Sappho wrote her memoirs and music
while exiled, her death unspoken.
Unveiling of the righteous King has come.
To bring a peace upon the ravaged land.
A war was fought, the loser did succumb.
The soldiers now are just, by King's command.
A Prince of evil tried to claim his realm,
And tethered people to a hopeless place.
With blade from sword and chains to overwhelm.
He stole and pillaged all without disgrace.
A brother older strode to their defense.
From ancient land to where a prison held.
He paid a ransom held at great expense,
And slayed the tyrant Prince his anger quelled.
The throne he lusted for the Prince had claimed.
Brought anger forth from rightful King he blamed.
contest The Deadly Seven
1/20/16
Men cannot be trusted
emotionless and hardened,
They tend to be aggressive
Then thoughtlessly are pardoned.
Promiscuously driven
With ego swelling large,
They're loud, endowed and over proud
And in your life they'll barge!
They see vastly different
They see a girl- a prize,
Their honesty is always great
Until they just tell lies.
They'll blame you for everything
They'll treat you as a game,
They're really not so interesting
Predictable and lame.
Hence before you run away
To whatever you have lusted,
Take heed of what I say...
For men should not be trusted.
Now, I could back this poem up
With proof of evidence,
As damages that most men do
Is astronomically immense.
Though I’m sure when they do read this
They’ll hate and much resent
The honesty and forthrightness
From a poetess unbent.
Yes we need to put them in their place
Before problems rise again
Wars and violence amongst our silence
All due to stupid men.
Though I wonder Joe and all that know
Andy and Big Randy
So I’ll admit just a bit
Men can be soooo handy !
And I’m fortunate to know
Good mans’ integrity
The ones who care a very rare
And voice this literally.
Though I’ve generalised and chastised
The ones not up to speed
I’ll be fair and I’ll share
Men…I know we need.
They’re great when they are good
Respectable and kind
They can be the bestest friends
And ease our worried mind.
Baby boys so wonderful
And innocence impart
Uplifting me, will always be
Forever in my heart.
The he whose not corrupted
It’s him I do commend
And loyal I will always be
To a good true friend.
How brothers I have missed you
Through the push and shove
And I am grateful never hateful
For platonic love…
Here here I’m not so sexist
Indifferent, a goner,
As I think of he who strengthens me
'tis he, I love and honour.
One step I go back, and
I see you holding my hands...
With a smile, walking down the lanes.
Yesterday I acquainted me in you
When your hands grabbed mine in your fears
With such reliance, allaying down the pains.
And Today when I stood still
I saw myself lost in despair
When my hands sorely waved you goodbye.
Another step I go back, and
I see you resting on my shoulder
With an ease, breathing out all your whimseys.
Yesterday I held myself in you
When you hugged me in your tenderness
With such peace, grieving away all the hearsays.
And Today when I fastened myself
I felt I betrayed your trust
When my arms direly opened to free your life.
Further I stepped to go back, and
I see you lying up on me abreast
With an intimacy, desiring all your fondness.
Yesterday I mellowed my soul in yours'
When you lusted me in your reverences
With such warmth, melting down all the iciness.
And Today when I lie down
I realized I burnt my essence
When my deity hollered out to coffined my soul.
Yet I wanted to go back, and
I see my shadow fading out slowly under the daylight
With such isolation, deafing all those mirthful moments.
Yesterday I was in a state of solitude
Till I acquainted with your heart and soul
With such reliance, peace and warmth, gratifying all forbearance.
And Today I am back, where I was
I raged as it was hard to believe
When my heart panicked to say you GOOD-BYE.
Burn the night with your yellow shine, fall to my feet with a bleeding heart that begs to exist in my world of fame and fortune. You come and you used and abused my love of truth and expect forgiveness. He who waits for such forgiveness waits in vain for at night’s end he shall fall like burnt out ash in mid December that serves to bring fourth only warmth and comfort. With tear filled eyes I shall sit and watch you fall to the ground where all murders of the heart go. Squeezing and breathing are skills I have picked up along the road side of lusted souls lost to the hands of flying crows who's one mission is to pick your eyes out at the fist chance they get. Fade assure room less homes, crack walls, broken windows and wingless planes fly high and sore like a bird of rested soul. In memory of me who lie in her dug out grave seeing a tiny glimpse of the moon and stars fade.
Love lost,
Is never truly gone,
No matter the rents cost,
Love lost lingers on.
She never truly committed to me,
Simply wished for a toy,
A heart of stone you see,
To the softness of a boy.
She was young as was he,
Yet her soul was full grown,
Her mind a tragic soliloquy,
Of what fate had sewn.
The boy was simply a canvas,
And who better than a pained artist,
To take his heart and encompass,
The innocence with a lusted mist.
He knew her as a saint,
She saw a den for sin,
He knew not of the paint,
She began to place within.
Now her ruse is complete,
His love is true,
Her trickery was discreet,
Now to turn brightness to blue.
Love is never lost,
It festers from within,
To the owner it bears great cost,
She lives on, as he lives broken.
This christmas you’ll know how great I am
Ya I’m the man.
You want diamonds and a car? I’ll do better by far!
Porsche extravagance and a solitaire
brighter than the North Star.
The present I want to unwrap is you
laying seductively under my wife’s tree
My christmas colour is pink mystery
together we joyfully can rewrite history
cause baby cakes you do things to me
that make me not care
about her misery
This christmas is hismas
so let’s fill it with ecstasy
As we laid there intertwined
I felt shock waves
going through my mind
I couldn’t see or feel you, I’d gone sense blind!
In the darkness
my blissfulness unravelEd
“PLEASE let me hit Rewind”
But it was just liquid black I could find
They came and removed
my wrinkled soul
and l was forced to leave you behind
Christmas morning
I was placed into a pretty box of pine
Family and friends didn’t show, not a sign
You who I thought was mine
drove your new Porsche
down Rodeo Drive
Later some caviar and wine
No worries you felt better than fine
After all you have plenty of rich fellows
waiting in line.
“Happy Birthday to You
Happy Birthday to you.”
Across the Abyss
I watch the Angels celebrate Christmas
as on my chest I pound my fists
Why wasn’t Jesus there on my Christmas list?
My knee is bowed, I now confess
but no one can get me out of my mess
The more I lusted for turned out to be less
Now my soul is burning and I can find no rest
I felt powerful like a god
believing that was why I was blessed
By trusting in myself
I failed the ultimate test.
For Bobbie Burns, “Beyond The Niceties of Christmas Poetry Contest”.
Nightshade, O how you taunt,
Seductive is your flower, dark purple,
Give yourself over to Her night.
Wine of Circe, Sweet the sleep you give,
A kiss of intoxication, Ease the
Passage of the soul.
Divale, Prima Ballerina of the Ballet,
Dance of La Belle Mort, Beautiful Woman,
Hers is the tango of death.
Lethal flower, make the voice rise high,
Fatal Soprano, yours is the power behind his throne,
Saccharine song of bells in your wake.
Belladonna, lustful and lusted for,
Your ambrosia is not of life,
But the kiss of death.
Form:
In loving times, when our hearts were paired
Life was great, in the feelings between us shared.
Our relationship flourished, And contentment grew
In each other we trusted, in the years love did pursue.
And born out of love, we were gifted a daughter
Each joyous moment shared in life as we taught her.
Two hearts that joined & became as one
Then an added extra, of another one.
They say that three, becomes a crowd
But with so much love, made me a family proud.
But as the years went by, And attentions distracted
I began to believe your feelings, we're being retracted.
I noticed your eyes begin to wander,
We're you lusting others, My mind did ponder.
Had I not been giving the love that you lusted?
My jealous mind, became a heart untrusted.
And without the trust, that we had shared
I was left with a broken heart, needing repaired.
But jealousy had reared its green envious head
This was the start of the end, of life to you i'd pled.
And when my thoughts became fact,
It was the realisation i needed to hear.
For now I knew I had to move on without you
I saddly thought with a final & fateful last tear.
I'd cried a river already, I'd ran out of tears
So I waved you goodbye, and to our past year's.
And with these words I say to you,
I don't have any regrets, for once love was true.
I'll cherish our memories, locked away in my heart.
But we both need to make a fresh start.
I wish you well in your travels, wherever you end
Knowing 'm not losing a lover, I'm just gaining a friend.
BY ANNA SABRINA TATE 23/02/2016.
She wore her skirt short,
her lingerie to be seen.
Such sights aplenty!
Gawking, gawping eyes
lusted at shear nudity.
They burned with hunger.
She proudly stood in
ruffled edges of cheap chintz,
dimmed and stained with wear.
Though worn and weathered,
her shoes had seven-inch heels -
a platform for love.
She was hardworking,
a rough road for seven years,
never a complaint.
She saved her rewards,
wed an investment banker,
retired at 30,
and laughed her way to the bank.