Best Naked Poems
Last night I wandered past your total disregard
And walked forlorn
Stark insecurity amplified
Still I walked , my usual forebearance uncomplied
Upon furthermost the distance between us elongated
The sustenance of forgotten stores inside me generated
I was venerated - nay subjugated
Of these morsels congregated
And fed me through those inkblack nights
In dewfall of the quiet
Inside unheard the rebel riots
As my breath became a billion
As my fears that I embraced
Loosed themselves and fearing fled
Melting in the murky bellows
Did I find my standing there...
Naked but for meekness laced
Forgotten was my fear
I needs you dId not anymore
Nor your disregard this doggone day
Not dejected as before
Only sin has me surrounded
And soon encircled dissappears,decays
Unclothed in limped insignificance
Nothing said ...
So still your body lies
concerned about being upstaged
the glorious blue tinted rock
negotiated
sent in the puffy white wisps
to cover the vibrant coloured evergreens
the brown field in the foreground
felt offended
wondering out loud
"what about me?"
then added "beauty you know is..."
but never bothered to finish the cliché.
for my part
i was more interested
in what the mountain had traded the clouds
what could it possibly have offered?
September 23 2016
Naked souls...
Find in each other a kindred spirit
That speaks divinely, without words.
Auras coalesce in euphoric passions
Warming hearts and bodies
That rise to ethereal heights.
Sentient beings aware of the gift
Love employs to infinite degrees,
Valuing the depths of harmonic harmony.
Let sunrise penetrate its heavenly hues
In veneration of nature connecting
With the psyche, intuitive of karmic
Laws in recompense of past regrets.
Unveil the opaque shrouds that keep
Truth occult by delivering the naked soul.
1-6-18
Wearing clothes to bed simply makes no sense
I must float freely on my waterbed
But when I wake in the morning, I’m tense
Wrinkles from the sheets on my skin imbed
Rolling out of bed, I lower my head
All of my windows and blinds are open
Crawling, I fear neighbors might see butt skin
A snake, I slither in my birthday suit
Trying to avoid boob sighting again
And the tattoo that sits on my “patoot”
I made a mistake reaching for my robe
The rack fell down hard, landing on me
Here I lay thinking my world’s out of whack
I struggle but there’s no way to get free
My Life Alert bracelet rang out quickly
No success grabbing a sheet from the bed
The rescuers arrived in warp-speed time
To find a nude lady well past her prime
Face down, the tattoo was now in full view
Explaining what happened, I’d quite a time
*Entry for Cyndi’s “Birthday Suit” contest
April 24, 2012
Skating fingers criss-cross, glide down my neck;
Under my clothing feel free to check
For a zipper, a button - my body serene,
It’s far beneath my skin the treasure unseen.
Why do you fumble and why with such need
Do you remove all my clothing longing to see
Bare hips so to know me?
Bare back so to know me?
Or pink candy stars soft on my breast
So to impress on your mind my complete nakedness?
I do not stand Revealed, though bare is my skin,
I do not stand Exposed, to believe so is sin.
You have removed only waves which accent the sea;
You cannot fathom the depth of the ocean in me.
See my hips – you do not know my rhythm.
See my back – you do not know my strength.
See my stars – you do not know my dreams:
Go ahead, touch me, I am not Naked
Well hidden are my seams.
Wrapped In Honey Of Her Naked Pies
Are memories really just our souls leaving
in clouds of shimmering hot mists.
And what of love and all that hot heaving
or stored memories on lustful lists!
Can the mind create truth from mere dregs
women so beautiful your brain cries.
All curves, graceful long ,long sexy legs
wrapped in honey of her naked pies!
Alas! Say it tis not a treasure imagined
what of the deep sensations of bliss?
Or her choice of lingerie in latest fashion
epic thrill of that greatest ever kiss?
Slay me now, if my treasures are not real.
I want no world devoid of that hot night's thrill.
R.J. Lindley
June 6th, 1983
Sonnet, on my terms....
Note_ Too hot, was deleted, graphic
details of that first night and ******** *** ************
With her first words she mesmerized his soul,
Of rose water and lavender was her aroma,
Her tip tap of her fairy tale walk was majestic,
A woman of status still in her prime of depth and note,
Wisps of red-hot curls, floating out of control adding
To her appeal, a magnetic touch to the usual
Variety of husband seeking maidens at the ball.
He hurriedly asked her for the opening dance,
She accepted and gracefully took his hand,
He first tested the waters, like a ballerina she danced,
Sadly, the music stopped for an interval, and
So led her back, as her deep smiling hazel brown eyes
Played with his, quizzically asking if she would see him
Again, he bowed and loudly voiced ‘my lady, the next dance
Is mine.’ it was a sweltering July night, she curtsied, and
Walked outside to the patio, attracting every man's attention.
Lord Kingsworth was from Somerset and, the Duchess of York
From Yorkshire, they made a striking couple as they swayed,
Laughed and whirled all night on the dance floor, infatuation
Had certainly crept upon them and the gossip column in
Tomorrow’s Country Times would certainly talk of this romance
And definitely would not let such a juicy piece of scandal escape them.
Lord Edward Kingsworth invited Helen, the duchess of York to a picnic,
Helen, charmingly smiled and accepted, Edward would pick her
Up with his carriage at eleven o`clock the following morning.
He had made up his mind he would ask Helen to become
Betrothed to him, who should he ask for her hand in marriage,
Her eldest brother she explained, as her father had died last
Year of tuberculosis and so it came to pass that after
An engagement of one year which held many ardent nights
And many picnic loving days by the river, which meandered
Close by them, always hurriedly stripping and unashamedly
And joyfully, enjoying the cool water, deliciously naked, finally
Became husband and wife at the beautiful York Cathedral.
What a happy couple they were, and blessed with three
Beautiful little girls who all had their mother’s unruly red hair.
this cooler air seems to mottle the trees
spinning leaves like my thoughts in winded dance
befalling trails of tears on crimson breeze
as they fall grounded beneath the oak's stance
i hear the crumble of death beneath me
as i shiver within its strident gasp
chaotic roots reach out beneath its quay
piquing me with tones of your final rasp
dubious mind much like bare branches snaps
within the disdain utter from dead lips
as it echoes remorse in lifeless slaps
freeing only my body from its grips
my soul stands colorless, naked and numb
mirroring the trees in this autumn glum
December 27, 2019
Entered into Best Sonnet of 2019 Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
September 30, 2019
*Quay is pronounced as Ke
I Went Out Into The Naked City
I went out into the naked city
to watch splattering and pouring wet rain
times in life things are a damn sad pity
when epic loss runs hard against the grain.
I danced in the lonesome low moonlight
with nerves frayed deep into these broken bones
beneath heaven's glory, rushed soft starlight
as Time echoed its lost sadden tones.
I drank darkness, to birth new falling stars
for new love was hiding deep within me
refugee from hurt's fleeing bitter scars
with hope and heart both begging to be free.
I found new beginnings, in that sweet roar
Love swore to find me, through that open door!
Robert J. Lindley, 7-29-2019
Sonnet, ( Finding Treasure Under Sweet Starlit Skies )
Poetry.
Feelings on paper
Your soul flipped
Inside out
Exposed
Poetry
Naked truth
Honesty on paper
Vulnerability shared
Revealed
Poetry
Unannounced
Pierces another’s heart
Surprises, amazes,
Tantalizes, terrifies
Honors some
QUOTE:
“The moon is a loyal companion.
It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast,
knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever
just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself.
Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light.
The moon understands what it means to be human.
Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
? Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walk I, Naked Under Pallid New Moons
I that crieth with dawn's falling dew
Accuser of this dark world and its hate
Walk I, naked under pallid new moons
With lingering hunger, nothing can sate
As warrior, as a lover now stone-blind
A dying soul, bleeding with ink and pen
Dreams, myself in imaginative realms
Away from this world full of darkest sin
This heart and soul, each crying out for more
And knowing Time will soon end this decay
A ship never finding a safe harbor
A ghost of dead dreams, now morbidly gray
Pay heed, if thy soul seeketh Love's pure kiss....
For tis' Light and Truth that bringeth sweet bliss....
Robert J. Lindley, 1-15-2020
Sonnet, ( As Whispering Wind Swirls About, To Speak )
( A pen allowed to such deep truth sing )
Note:
Hold tight the moments that life gives
the ecstasy of remembrances of sweet romance
for day comes in which more in past one lives
the more one sees that most of life is long-lost chance....
Wobbly bits , Hairy bits and dangly bits galore
So if you're feeling squeamish
Draw your curtains and lock the door
For today is the day in Yorkshire
When the naked ramblers go on tour.
They will walk beside the railway line
From Settle to Carlisle
All their bits a bouncing
For mile after mile
You are welcome to join them
but you can wear nothing but a smile .
One of the guys must have fallen in a puddle
I think his name is Jim
Some things shrink when they're in water
and you'll feel really sorry for him.
The lady garden of Hairy Mary
Really needs a trim .
One lady must be American
Well her wobbly bits have certainly gone
To the very deepest south .
She's spitting out tobacco juice
From the corner of her mouth
Her lady garden looks angry
With that mass of ginger hair
Goodness gracious , She bent over
Now that really gave me a scare.
I hope I have inspired you
So if you're feeling brave
Pop into the bathroom
and give your bits a shave
Then you can apply to join
The naked ramblers society
Don't forget to give me a wave
I'm the guy hiding behind the tree.
We are all brothers and sisters born without hate
Naked we were born to earth with purity and innocence as Lily
Love has no barriers beyond our earthly grasp
Right actions coming from the right setting, it starts from within
Sometimes we feel we are living inside a bubble
To live a good life, we must think, speak and act correctly
Destiny paints our divine promise colors a rainbow
Everything's really just small adjustments in your life
The search for the true love with joy and confidence in this world
Let your light shine bright, love inside the heart last forever
Of life our guiding angels a choir heavenly glamor
Angels over flowing universe with its clean and deep strength
Written by Liam Mcdaid & A-L Andresen 11.03.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Daddy always kneeled--
but it was Momma who prayed,
as he spread lips that couldn't dissent,
no matter how much they trembled.
She was always naked for him
bleeding babies upon the floor,
while he explored their cradle,
fingering walls absently--
assessing her foundation;
Momma prayed for simple things,
blankets and frigidity--
anything to create separation;
Where naked wouldn't matter
under the cloak of autonomy
and the only grasping thoughts--
would be her own.
Sometimes, we just have to get naked
Sometimes, we must bare our own soul
Sometimes, we can no longer fake it
Being ourselves becomes our new goal
We are fitted for outfits by parents and teachers
We are told what to think and how we should feel
Once we get past the shame adorned by the preachers
We learn it’s ourselves we ought to reveal
Sometimes, we just have to get naked
Sometimes, we must bare our own soul
Sometimes, we can no longer fake it
Being ourselves becomes our new goal
So, don’t be afraid to share your own beauty
Don’t be afraid to strip naked today
Being true to yourself should be your new duty
Those who can’t take it can just look away
Sometimes, we just have to get naked
Sometimes, we must bare our own soul
Sometimes, we can no longer fake it
Being ourselves becomes our new goal