Best Makita Poems

In a yonder canyon
Upon earth’s finest grass I sit
Scathing mature flower petals
As if to sojourn the years
When youth nestled us
Grazing our faces with happiness...

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An array of flavor
Paints our summer scene
With the striking colours
That in time the two of us
Like fawns had grown to cherish
Aristocratic and original
Was the infinite portrait...

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Through hazy mirrors
A doxy appears to be doused
Within suicide languages
Hips bemoaning white filigrees
Caressed by a famine of beatitude
designed to elicit tragedy...

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Versed within aureate calligraphy
Each syllable we’d partake
Defined by moments
When our lips would graze
As we lie in the bedsteads
Fashioned by the finest mirth
Born of cultured artistry...

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‘Tis often the flesh upon each cheek
is chased dour, yet sultry memories
As the years aged much of nothing
Had haunted these bones
unknown, unsuspected
Hollow screams were published
By the bedsteads of the red holocaust
Clouds laced with fear
Foreseen ‘twas a fiasco...

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Awaiting a light
To guide us down the path
that composed our eternity

For no woman I have swayed
In quite the fashion as I for you
For no woman could I have swooned
as I swiftly as I for you

and if ever there was a chance
to seize the pendulum
‘tis your...

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Rare was the vibe
To which we waltzed
And like plastic pillows
We fondled each others features
Petting each others’ egos
In a wistful manner
No texture of skin
Had ever tasted better...

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Focusing upon a lantern of thirst
she ate of catastrophes
and quaffed of black karma
cast by fiction in sleaze
camaraderie non existent
though through the holocaust
erect she stood...

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A hankering feature once she was
Saturated by a plethora of alleviation
along the current she’d sway
Her presence infusing meaning
In elementary shapes
And esoteric hymns
Makita te quiero
Tu eres mi amor...

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The beat that composes
Summer’s zealous speech
Employed my bones with jubilees
A quaint taste laced
with pornographic oaths
Of which I abstain from forsaking
As in her caress I descend...

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The hours screamed
Fine warnings eclipsed
By the science that is
Her lovely masquerade
for no woman upon bended knee
have I fostered much passion
The love of my sexy nightmare
Breast of the famous queen...

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White fences groan
In fuchsia fingered sighs
Passion sprinting
Along aging sands
Whilst from diamond straightjackets
Black snow descends
To a fine, orange death...

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Phonetics of oblivion
Sheathed by plausibility
Elapsing cultures with ease
Fathering quaint illustrations
Daring to be discovered
Along fearless avenues
Embellished by the fences
That compose the verses
Of which we refer to as life...

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Voodoo cryptograms
were the mirrors
alleviating all that is
bred of elementary nature
having spaked in tones
that could quake the bones
fashioning humanity’s frame
furnished by deathly tales...

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She’d recite the fairest refrains
As upon marble texture I languish
Moxie was her focus to sway me
I, never once yearning to retreat,
Became enveloped by an aura of passion
Spry was the breeze that descended
From the design ‘twas her lovely palms...

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