Best Nerve Ending Poems
It
was him,
and immediately
I felt the very moment he
too, saw me as I entered the room.
I averted my eyes, seemingly not magnetized,
yet his form continued to caress the corner of my eyes.
My entire body was so attuned to his every movement, I sighed.
Suffused with such warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone.
I tried to turn away, but felt the searing heat where his eyes touched my skin.
I realized I was hypnotized, mesmerized by the power of intense attraction.
Minutes passed by, I would catch again his eyes, staring, brooding.
Overwhelmed by his presence, I felt such effervescence.
Senses wired to all that was him, I was exulted
to know that his eyes were as glued
to me as mine were to him.
Nobody, no one else.
Him and only
him.
He moved, the
second I floated to him.
I stopped, time to catch my breath.
Him whose strides came quickly to my side.
Such panther’s grace, eyes holding my stare, he smiled.
The wineglass in my hand trembled, serene not I, far from calm.
Suffused with much warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone.
I turned away, and felt the searing heat where his eyes just touched my skin.
Hand on my elbow, he silently led me to where the crowds were, to dance .
Such arrogance, I thought I’ve had enough as a child, of dominance.
Yet I, surprised, felt the rush of liquid fire through my veins
with his large hand, warm and steady on my bare back.
Alive were all nerve ending, as we went dancing
through the night, I heard the loud sound
of the wild beating of my heart.
Suddenly…I was jarred,
and from a dream,
woke up
I.
Kim Patrice Nunez
DREAMS CONTEST - 10 th Place
SPONSOR: ROB CARMACK
23 April 2015
You seduced, you stole, you exalted, you annihilated,
You elevated, you decimated, you connected, you sucked me dry,
You opened me up, you closed me down,
You delivered me to ecstasy, you devalued and discarded me,
You were sensual, you were sardonic,
You made my heart smile, you tore out my soul,
You put me on a marble pedestal, you stoned me with your vicious tongue,
You bathed my heart in liquid gold, you buried me in quick sand,
You crowned me as your princess, you burnt me at the stake,
You were my prophecy, you were my satan,
Your hands knew every inch of me,
You tore out my essence and trampled my boundaries,
You pledged unity only with me, you cheated,
You held me tightly in your arms, you suffocated the life out of me,
You cast, you hooked, you netted, you feasted,
You made every nerve ending shiver deliciously,
You became my nervous breakdown, you were my divine intervention,
You disconnected me from my higher power,
You were luminous, you illuminated, you are an illusion.
You loved and yet you didn't.
Because love is real. And you are not.
“Friendly Fire”
I was writing
when death came
like the sound of
clouds cracking open
the sound like all 4
horses, hooves kicking
in windows, stenographically
speaking like a scream,
my world shattered, the sound
like wanton sirens piercing
the unassuming quiet,
my hands were on fire then,
the keys melting into
the nerve ending of it all
as I punched holes
in the air like some
ticketmaster casually
strolling aisles married to
time racing petulantly
on some
runnaway train
I passed windows
that were not open
with my belly
in my throat
I heard the whisper
of it all
the soft banter
as I fell through
the floors
"you know",
they say,
"friendly fire,
this has happened before"
last thoughts
as I tap it all out
dancing through it all
like a fountain nibbed
sword
I am my worst
enemy
but then,
aren’t we all?
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Tell me that my lips feel the most like home
and that when you're alone
it is me you think of.
Tell me that my hands melt over your skin
like candle wax drip.
Tell me that when you are scared
you close your eyes and I protect you.
Do you know that the most comfortable I have been is settled beneath your skin.
Now tell me why you cry.
Has anyone ever asked you that?
Has anyone ever begged to understand you deep inside of your soul?
Does anyone long to know your favorite color?
Tell me it is the shade of blue my eyes turn when we make love..
Tell me about your scars.
The ones that mark your skin..
and the ones that mark your heart.
Tell me about your first kiss.
Did it leave you breathless?
If you think about it hard enough can you still taste it?
Your first heart break...
You know the one you would never get over...
tell me about the day you did.
Now tell me about the first time we made love
Was it everything you had previously dreamed of?
Did every nerve ending come alive
and did everything melt inside?
When you came
was it like your first time?
Did you look down at me
me looking up at you
and my eyes
were they your favorite shade of blue?
MIND MUSCLE
Steroid cocktails, metallic flavor, Viagra rush;
Mind numbing mush!
Sightless vision, cloudy comprehension, silent violence, whimpering misogyny; a blood-curdling hush…
Nervous perspiration, brain freeze, lactic acid rush; Gray matter atrophy flush! Dissipating oxygen accompanied by synapses firing twinges!
Amnesiac causing binge; constricting pyro nerve ending singed; Ascend to the black hole rush…
Epidermal twitches, vitamin E glitch, inhale and exhale switch, Marauding biceps, involuntary tick…, Bulging disc, brain-teasing peroxide, attention deficit; Word nerd… Hard body… Flex and discern… Secret genius…?
Mind Muscle...
Melvin “Chief” Lars 2/23/04 2:10 pm
“ GOD … How I Appreciate The Complexities ! … “
I Appreciate The Intricate, Just-So, Subtleties
The Intellectual Nuances and Imposed Perfunctories
That Separates Our Minds, From The Minds Of Beasts …
… Oh, The Ingeniousness of Thinking Abilities
This Superconductor of Sanctioned-Sensitivities
Where The Human Mind Can Reach, Celestial-Journeys
Even Beyond Our Mental-Mortal Capacities
Beyond … The Grasp of Dark and Grey Matter
Beyond … A Storage Tank and Brain-Storm Gathered
Beyond … Sweet Alice and A Mad-Hatter
Beyond … ThunderDome, and What Happens In Latter
Beyond … Neurons and A Neurotic-Mass
Beyond … ‘We’ve Got Some Nerve-Ending’ Synapse
And Just Like There’s More To See, Than What Cameras Snap
There’s More To Our Minds, Than Biology Can Map
How Could One Admire Computer-Technology
And Not Marvel At Our Medula-Oblongata System-logy
Our Minds, Are A Megaplex of Individualities
A Mall of Momentous Ideals and Marble Column Libraries
… We, Are Not Matrix, Nor Mere Routine-Machines
We, Are Not Droids, nor Drones … We Can Live Our Dreams
‘ HE ’ Programmed ‘Choice’ into Us, And Gave Us Dignities
So, “A Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Waste”, In Stupidities …
We, Are Not Robotic-Puppets, But of Genetic-Construct
… Dust, DNA-Stairway, 3-D, and Divine-Spark-Struck
We Can Be Psychotic, Without Aware-Antibiotics and Self-Destruct
But Note, That A ‘Thought’, Does Not Evolve, Without ‘An Instruct’
( … and Guess What, Man-Maze … Really, Neither Did Us ! … )
… Oh, How I Appreciate the Concise Design (Like A Human Battery)
Its Purpose, Possibilities and Activities, (even allows this Poetry)
I Appreciate The Connections Affixed in Each of The Holy Spirit-Surgeries ( Ps. 139: 13-16 )
But Most Of All, I Appreciate Being Made … In YOUR Imagery … ( Gen. 1: 26, 27 )
Can your calluses callus enough that God’s touch
will not touch a nerve ending (to reach you) if God
wants to kiss you (wants contact?) Yes, there! I’d guess not!
But that does leave unanswered if God would allow
you to ‘unfeel’ that feeling, to unring His knock
up your virginal doors? An unfruitful advent-
ure, a dalliance nipped in the bud, that’s your fame?
But delays to ‘what rhymes,’ might that mean you have crutch
or a leg left to stand on if Judgment’s not odd.
Is God’s Grace hope you’ve ace-in-the-hole (it’s a thought
though you hate to admit it?) You’re drawn to Macau?
There’s a bargaining chip? You have something to hock?
(You think hedging one’s bets is an option?) You’ve hint
there’s an exit (non-death) that’s not God’s to proclaim?
Life has binary options, it’s on, or it’s off.
We can’t choose to be ‘good,’ but we can ‘like’ God’s Grace?
If God’s real, ‘God’s’ not Fraud, but God still could be Fraud,
which might mean grace is fraud too and ‘life’s’ what all get.
Yes, we’re here then we’re not, yet death might be unreal
like some say God’s not there (if He is or He’s not!)
It’s confusing to me, and some think that I’m smart.
Are your calluses assets? I don’t mean to scoff,
but it looks more to me like that’s spiting your face
(you want calluses there?) Feet, hands, fingers seem odd
when feet shoed, and hands gloved still can bless life a bit.
Don’t confuse souls with soles (that would not be genteel!)
There’s no knowledge that lasts, and all feelings will rot
if no God is Creator (whose Love’s breath is Art!)
Brian Johnston
15th of August in 2020
MINI METRO – CHEVROLET MATIZ
Sat in the back of a car – Mini Metro or Chevrolet Matiz –
just waiting for the crash. My crash part of our crash.
Pulping my flesh, tearing skin, crushing bones.
Severing my head as my unbroken left arm twitches –
nerve ending! At my eyes’ last sight.
Mini Metro comes to rest on its side, petrol pools and burns.
Other car gently rocks on broken axle.
All die with perfect, mechanical precision.
For you
I would
create a mixtape
which I know is an ancient technology but
with me and you it is just that simple.
I race to you like we used to rush into each other's arms in highschool
where our only concern was whether or not we could get the courage to talk to each other without shaking.....
This is the playlist that I would prepare for you.
First and foremost I'd put Hate to see you go by The colour fred
Because it is true as the song has said
Truly if I could I would become a
sculptor...
I would place the unformed chunk of my clayself and spin.
Create myself in the image of your ideal perfection.
I would spin
Faster than the spools could play the songs on re-wind
I want so badly to make an impresion
and I know that the the tape can only contain up to 35 minutes for you to get the underlying
message
October Nights, by Yellowcard
will follow soon after
because that exotic night in your car
where the street lights were our blankets
is constantly on replay in my mind
Right before the heavy nod of sleep
I daydream
You are laying beside me, and in this private realm of thought
We travel like archeologists over the naked lay of our connected bodies
and I live through the pleasure that this daydream explodes into my mind like
parasympathetic nerve ending fireworks
Remember will play softly by Allister
and I'll hold onto the hope that you will forgive me of this time in our lives where I have to
press pause
for I am broken still
Knaans waving flag will resound from your stereos
For 'tis this soundtrack where my battle cry is derived
I know it is just the beginning but I will push myself past my barriers
Pieces by Sum 41 will be your lullaby
because this is the song that brought back the blue into my gray eyes
Hopefully side one will bring you comfort
because you are everything I am looking for in a guy
I am but a broken winged robin who has got to learn once more to fly.
and lastly Blink 182's I miss you
Because there is not a moment in the day where my mind wanders back to you
Fear.
Ugly comfortable,
Like a greasy comforter you can
wrap your nerve-ending-tingling sad
body in.
Never moving from the safe spot,
Ignoring the undiscovered
wilderness.
Right there in the cold.
Snow and sky,
frozen trees snapping.
Life.
I move my life to marching drums,
carving paths into my bare palms.
You showed me how to play apathy
I've never begged to a silent god more than
when I dreamed of empty tables
and riots in my wardrobe
(instead of lions or snow),
but then you glowed through the mist of my mind, and
thoughts of you were all I could find
in the cavernous space in my head-
for all I knew every nerve ending had left me
empty, and
wired with an endless map of veins;
built, from the ground to the ceiling
with the yarn of life.
You cut through all my knots
now I'm a mess of frayed ends and
more pieces than you could ever imagine.
You threw me to the sea,
I was swallowed by the brackish shore-line
which coils itself into the monsters that hide
around every corner I turn.
Will you never learn that nothing you do
helps me to stand,
you just split my seams
and spill my contents onto the floor.
If you learned one thing from your mother
it was never to cry;
not over spilt milk, anyway.
My heart beats cracks into my ribs,
but my hands hold the sun
it shines through my fingers, scorching
each one of my nails
and curls me at the edges
(singed)
the earth will never turn enough to
spin me from its surface, so
I guess I'll have to jump and
swim to the brim of the stars
while they bloom in the night sky,
a black sheet of pin-pricks
burning white against your charcoal surface.
sometimes, my pupils feel like frosted glass
but then I turn to your Good Book
and that lonely feeling swells
in my chest.
I feel more at home
when I'm floating somewhere
above your head or
maybe into happiness again
but I will never see
any more than what I've seen.
I will never skim the surface
or go anywhere I've never been.
I am stuck
living quietly, angry at myself for
falling into this rut.
and, to be quite frank
there's no one I'd like to thank more than you
(or the Goliaths you sent chasing my skirts)
EYE DISCONNECT
i’ve always been drawn
to eyes — a smorgasbord of colors
but that’s not what i see
i drift beyond what most can tap into
the shroud of evidence
the red rivers
a canal lock
bulging, ready to burst
the big bang
the upsurge of rage
shocking severance
the world in ethereal mist
the feel of goosebumps —
a spirit throws a sodden blanket,
arctic cold around shoulders
shuddering teeth like ice picks
wincing of pinched nerve ending
but she’s like a statue of Mother Teresa
They whisper...whissss…
“She’s so calm.”
“So strong.”
“A saint in her circumstance.”
But the Spirit tells me, “See… Feel...her.”
Through her eyelids, I wander, not for myself
but for the gift of God,
I touch her arm, I ask
with godly inflection
“How are you?”
and her heart stirs…
...the high and low pressure mixes
...quite like a cold engine whirring to start
elephantine tears, wrinkled and gray,
splatter...her trunk collapses
and God collects the sudden stream into a cloud
for no bottle can hold this torrent of weeping
others walk away, afraid, embarrassed, imposters
a dove turns into pure comfort
a solid hand of flesh
a form strong enough to hold her up
she rests in the Spirit of the love of God
i see a smorgasbord of colors
she smiles
12/28/2018
give me some innocence
just a little silken touch
soft as the inside of your mouth
and slow as half frozen creeks
I want to feel every nerve ending
light up under my touch
I want to excite your senses
with the weight of this experience
this is a small bone from my neck
I want to belong to you
this is the lining of my heart
I want to be yours
and I wish
I wish I was still seventeen
and oh, how I wish
I wish we were all still velveteen
HEMISPHERIC RUMBLINGS
Lightening that flashes between two hemispheres
Hail falling in droves behind the eyelid’s curtain
Showered hair standing up in precipitation’s fight
Each nerve ending sharing primordial foreboding
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::Z:::::::::::::::::::::Z::::::::::::::::::::::::Z::::::::::::::::::::
:::::Z:::::::::::::::::::::Z::::::::::::::::::::::::Z:::::::::::::::::::
I
M
A
G
I
N
A
T
I
O
N
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
I don't question
my presence in a Jacuzzi
with a girlfriend of a friend,
or why my ex-wife's sister
is now a soapy fingered hand-maiden.
All day I keep adjusting my mask
while secretly watching that hot tub dream
as it plays-on
on the tip of every nerve ending.
I want to sink back
into suds of impossibility.
I have this crazy itch
to snorkel down
to where I can touch
the secret life of ripples.