Best Roundness Poems


Premium Member City Geometry

CITY GEOMETRY

I’m on big town
Inserted
Yea, transplanted
Within its swaying wave
Of box and angle

Where my self-identity
Is something throbbing
Upward gazing
Arrowing
To sky points

So, it’s confusing
The hate-love factor
Stiffness
Restriction
Formal sharpness of angle

A quite eye bewildering sight
This swirling circumference
Of a giant
Fractured
Circle 

And oh!
The Stravinskyish
Jagged continuity
Of line
Of dissonance

For distance
I follow parallels
Lines receding
With absolute straightness

There a promise of
Those cherished
Fading meadows
Of nature’s roundness
Her natural sweetness

Suddenly!
I take a ninety-degree angle of turn
With mandatory city goose step
Toward sanity
Toward home

Dave Austin

Lovers Moon

When blue sky has drawn its veil
That's when passions will prevail
Within the dark of nights closed eyes
Entangled lovers sweat and writhe

A fervent lust. A human need.
A chance to plant the given seed
It starts with just a gentle touch
As light recedes the sky at dusk

Then when the moon and stars arise
A hand is moved from breast to thighs
The roundness of the orb at night
Calls for lovers to delight

Engage in love. Engage in sin
Engage in feelings from within
A chance to touch another soul
Is what brings humans to their whole

Feel the softness of the skin
Two lips pressed against the chin
A moan escapes. A breath is drawn
As nipple is encroached upon

Grasping flesh and tasting love
The constellations stir above
Unclothed bodies in the night
Begin to consummate their plight

A presentation then is made
And well accepted, unafraid
The movement satiates the lust
As joy is drawn from every thrust

Fingers grasp and arms embrace
Contortions dominate the face
Muscles spasm, spASM, SPASM
Oh the joy of such ******

Now there's nothing but a bright
Ever glowing, loving light
Embracing them within that glow
As lovers movements start to slow

Electric feelings then subside
Like ending to a coaster ride
And as the dawn begins to creep
It chases lovers to their sleep
Leaving them to relish in
The echoed sound of pleasures din



Rockman  :-)


If you enjoyed this one, also read "Sweet Love".

Premium Member Remnants of Eden

Remnants of Eden United

Scattered shards, remnants of Eden,
Gathered to a ring of bright topaz
A simultaneous soliloquy of intentionality
At the crux of intersecting avenues,
Indivisible solidarity and singular consent,
Distilled in breathless agreement
Rising from opaque mists
Where gypsy heart and pilgrim spirit
Commit to a blind quest,
Stumble in silence toward the joining
As their plea peers into fleeting glimpses
Of merging tranquility
And 
Feel the quickening of a singular pulse
In wordless words,
Translated by acrostic identities
Through star crossed collisions
Of shattered betrayals,
To exhale one sigh – one whisper -
Overflowing in lyrical foundations
Of delighted synchronized accord
In geometric solutions of rhymes and rhythms -
Journey into enchantment of unbreakable roundness -
A seamless garment of the eternal’s delight,
A fusion of two conscious worlds spoken as one breath.


Mother's Wisdom

We nurture them within our bodies, birth them in a blinding pain,
suckle them on breasts so swollen, till we think we’ll go insane.

We kiss away each painful boo-boo, bandage each and every wound,
show them that in spite of roundness, peas can stay upon their spoons.

We intercept their nostril’s flowing, be it green or white as snow,
wiping gently ever hoping, for the day they’d learn to blow.

We give to them each ounce of wisdom, try to teach them everything,
suddenly, for unknown reasons, screw it up and give them wings.

We mourn a bit, those cherished moments, when on us they did depend,
days when we were super heroes, possessing wisdom without end.

We watch the journey proudly knowing, as they soar into the light,
Mother’s wisdom, though not perfect, lends the wind that gives them flight.

Premium Member In the Invisibility

whereas I, by chance, talking to myself, finding myself
alone, enclosed by four walls and a door, knock
to see, in the invisibility, with x-ray ability, not held,
if you dear reader, sitting by your nightlight, might
switch it on and find a word to speak silently
or out loud; your choice. the ones you borrow

from a native tongue, feeling
their incomprehensible weight,

stopping mid-sentence, to ponder if you are moved
in the slightest bit; I’m biting my lip in anticipation,
though I’ve no inkling that you're mulling over
my thoughts, my doubts, my innards, my all.

now, I, think of you, sitting by a scintilla of light,
moonlight marvels at the roundness of your lips
as you nearly sing your “o’s;” sonnets seem
sensual alongside the bed, though always grieving.
love is a dog, a walk in the woods, a lark.

leave me be. let me remember you as I long to.
don’t say goodbye, but leave my sighs on the table,
where you first met me, and I almost met you,
and you, dear reader, take back up with me,

though now there’s a familiarity between us,
lost in the shadows, amidst the stars
and you can nearly hear me breathing.

Premium Member Dieu a Fait La Femme

Geometry shows us God’s great fondness for lines
In the gazelles, birds and butterflies as well.
Everywhere we search in the midst of His designs,
Even in the sea we find many an animal in his shell.

Not stopping His ingenious design with mere creatures,
Or objects He fondly blesses with roundness,
That appear most often among celestial features,
He drew woman’s figure most curvy and boundless.

The womanly figures are of an exquisite selection,
Running the perfect outline from legs to hair,
Expressing haunting beauty with divine perfection,
And designed to please the heart willing to dare.

With circular lines it seems that He began
Depicting the face and hair with round design.
He moves then to the bust with a span,
And with symmetry amazes with the circular line.

Now on to the waist with its hyperbolic form,
He shapes with alluring symbolic notion.
Now cycling to legs God departs the norm,
And now straight lines obtain His promotion.

All of these sacred shapes and borders,
God draws from the world’s great sweep.
He conveys them from land’s four corners, 
Cross mountains high and valleys deep.

God is the master of geometric arts;
He is the architect of spherical dreams.
And He fashions woman’s celestial parts
From the lines on landscape’s four extremes.

Now all of this is just to make very clear
My prayer that you be my spherical dream,
With starlight in your flowing hair,
Your glory will fuel my modest esteem.


Premium Member Lovers

There had been some twists and turns in his life
The rough streets were behind him
He had money in his pocket 
No longer ashamed of himself
He was free to be himself
She was someone he wanted to be with
A listener of his dreams
Paying attention to whatever he said.

On a beautiful warm evening 
They walked 
To her place
Sensing
Tiny tremors
Running along her arms
He kissed her  
Feeling the tenseness in her body dissipate.

In her apartment.
He held her in his arms
Blood rushing to his face
Feeling as if his knees would buckle
At her slightest touch.

In their embrace
Words became whispers
Hands struggled to feel 
And to touch
In passion she placed her fingers on his cheek
Between his lips
Undoing her dress 
Slipping out of her panties
She walked towards him
Naked
The power of her beauty and youth 
Mesmerizing him
He could do nothing but stare 
At the points of her nipples
The roundness of her thighs.
Like a giant wave
She enveloped him in her power.
Head down 
She fulfilled him even more
Her tongue holding him tightly
Everything was coming his way
All it took was patience and desire.

They fell into a deep sleep
Arms and legs entwined
An errant breeze 
Caressing them where they lay
Her love the catalyst
For them being as one
The way he dreamed it would be 
Just the way he planned it  
Or should I say…..just the way she planned it.

Premium Member Crushed

I feel your coolness next to my fingers.

Your roundness excites my thirst buds.

Oh my you need to be crushed.

Your sweetness will exude your love.

You were crushed for me.

Now I can enjoy a chilled glass of wine.

You gave your all just for me.

My thanks to the grapes.

 

Date Written:6/15/2020

Love's Fruit

Among your orchard grooves lemon green grew
At first the dream-like pear-shape eyes
Until i parted and stared closely 
Into your cherries iris pupils
That aim the Cupid's arrow, 
Piercing through my reddened apple
Puncturing a spring full of blood
That gushed to overwhelm my melon soul,
Until the supple roundness
Of a ripe pregnant papaya,
Caresingly whispers a soft rub,
And i was lustful in your tutti-frutti roundness,
Like a lonely sherry 
Once bitten, she is smitten.
Whet daga slid through desired pink strawberry,
Licked the naked sweetened and soured juice
Pineapple's bloom-lipped enveloped tongue-suckled till dripping,
A connoisseur sipping fine grape-wine from ancient casks,
Drunk to stupor,
And after, i offer the grace olive kiss of devotion,
Forever still dream-crossed, dragging the steely banana
From the depth of your throbbing tangerine heart,
And i was lustful in your tutti-frutti roundness ,
Through your crush wet eyes 
You silently chew the plum of quietude
And i climbed to pluck the figs of a trusting heart.  

Afolabi Taiwo
Sexy

Sitting, Breathing, Learning

Sitting, Breathing, Learning

Mountain breezes riffle Cottonwood leaves
on the towering tree
outside my window
they rescue my focus from work 
as deep memory calls forth
a poem by Allen Ginsberg
written at a Buddhist retreat
musing about exhales
in Grand Teton National Park
and their travels around
a spinning planet
before returning to sharp
craggy places of origin
waiting in line patiently
to once again become inhales
off to make  
the same journey of roundness…
even the examined life
is like that you know,
repeating the same dances
making costume changes
re-doing make-up
in order to fool us into thinking
experiences are new and fresh
like juicy ripe fruit, just picked
when in truth it’s just
another face on the same old same old
for me to repeat until I finally touch
the essence of the exercise
one fine day perhaps
just sitting, breathing and learning, as
mountain breezes riffle Cottonwood leaves
on the tree outside my window…

The Joys

I enjoyed the singing games we held in our young
I enjoyed your clothing that you always shared
I love the deep reds, the large earings, the leather sandals and the beaded bracelets
I enjoy saying hi and goodbye in the different languages and accents
The simplest words for the simplest connections

The first time i tasted your food, i didn't know how to use the fork and the knife
To work together in rhythm
Until i taught you how to eat ugali and beef stew
You said you've never tasted your fingers that delicious 
Then we sat on the mat, warm and cozy traditional beauty
And sippped tea from the tiniest cups I've ever seen
Tea with lots of sugar and milk

We saw them dancing in the rain
All dressed in their tribal clothes
We took lots of pictures with them
We bought souvenirs and left them with our dears
For we also had sharings..from our seas 

When you stomp on the ground the hardest, the dust rises up the grandest
Who will i be without all these human connections that I've gained from others
The handshakes
The head greetings
The left hand rules
The smiles

I am the others
How would it be if we were all the same?
The world with all its roundness would be a little too full of sadness



*I know it seems like there are some grammatical errors in this poem but it's because some of the words are direct translations from my other two languages.
With love, Njeri*

Ablend of Purity and Wisdom

His face is a pure light,
His eyes has innocence plight.
He does not know his own true nature,
He is a god's gifted creature.

The roundness of his face depicts no confusion,
His hands gestures are brain's intrusions.

He has a mind,full of good thoughts,
He has his frequency matching to the chords.

He is clear on his goals,
His back up plans did not serve humanity's trolls.

His first achievement was celebrated by all,
His fellow friends and family had never let him fall.

His sound always hits the air vibrantly,
His soul always burns fiercely.
His passion inspires me
For working hard towards what I want to be.

The day I attain success,
He will be the first one to know that I am blessed.

May he walk on joy's path every moment,
Because his purity and wisdom is measurable till eternity's end .

Premium Member My Favorite Dish

My favorite dish, when it’s all done and said
Is the metal one inside my head

The dish that heats up near microwaves
And makes airport security whisk me away

The dish that put roundness back in my skull
When before it looked like a concaved bowl

The dish I cover with my toupee
Because to insert it they took my hair away

The dish that nobody else knew about
Until this poem from me came out

Without that dish I would not be here
So for my favorite dish, I give three cheers
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Bully Boy

Bully and Obese Boy

Obese Boy takes his roundness from the Earth
Becomes his own world in and out
In silent pain in orbit around himself 
He cannot hide like other thin ones among us do
Animals gnaw away at his flesh bit by bit
Still he holds his form 
Not like a jolly old man or Santa
This boyish oddity of nature scared and carnival like
Abandoned, ridiculed, scorned by all
Rolls on down the road of life
Bully and his kind 
Take Obese Boy from the shadows
Under the nose of teachers and friends
Who know but look the other way
Indifference is the height of inhumanity
He’s beaten body, mind and soul
Discarded in a trench
There he rises
Bullies diminish themselves as human
Become the savage wild and weak 
In these endeavors and attacks
Obese Boy rolls on down the road
Shedding memories of bullies as he goes
Perhaps he’ll grow a little larger
But so will his human heart

No Scars

The clear sound of a Marlboro igniting 
the firm roundness
fully lipped
on that first drag
laconically hung off, 
like you care? Lip tears don’t leave scars.

It’s been unsettling
That ashtray smell
On your fingertips
Burnt soil,
Rubbed off at best,
But coughing into a mason jar?

That comes later, after you’ve time to think
Gotten it all together; 
gotta go anyway, 
Like you care,
lip tears don’t leave scars.
© Dan Helppi  Create an image from this poem.

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