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Listen to poem:
without a pen i bleed my poetry
on this pad for all to read
you know me i write too much
without enough to say
that's how my love works
and who i am
i won't quibble about the bill
i'll pay
even leave a generous tip
from the tip of my toes
ten in all
to my arms reaching for the sky
and if by chance
i overreach
so what
i'll take the moon
and the sun too
there's no risk
if it doesn't burn
without risk
safe
is just a place imagined
there's no jazz without a blue moon
no hearty laugh
if you've never felt blue
let's skip the intros
run the bases
hit that home run on our first date
i'll kiss you an eon
hold you on my chest
whisper in your ear
i'll make you laugh
promise to bring you back
once the ecstasy of us peaks
but don't worry
like a gold yo-yo
or even a trampoline
we'll bounce back
and return to euphoria
catch our breath
careful not to break the string
or miss the circled spring
you can only have it all
once you understand 'nothing'
we're born with it
but without the wit to understand it
me
i held it in my hand
until i was old enough to throw it like a boomerang
and every time it returns it's you
i always knew
bliss isn't forever
just the length of your kiss
from my first breath
i was convinced there'd be a long last sigh
as long as it's the love of two
my love for you
your lips for me
our horizon is not a straight line
just the only line i crave
so bring out the bongos
play me a beat
and let's dance into eternity
a series of lives
each one unique
and always
it's you and me
one more go
let's breathe
May 24 2017
armand
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017
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My garden is such a colourful sight,
with pretty roses and scented sweet peas.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Beautiful butterflies gently alight
on flowers dancing on the summer breeze.
My garden is such a colourful sight
Sweet night scented stocks abloom at midnight
their aroma is always sure to please.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Carnations in purple, scarlet and white
are visited by busy bumble bees.
My garden is such a colourful sight
A haven for birds I watch them in flight
they alight on peach blossom from the trees.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Pretty pansies smile in clay pots so bright
I love beautiful flowers such as these.
My garden is such a colourful sight
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
190 syllables, 10 syllables per line checked with how many syllables
Contest Villanelle me flowers Sponsored by Broken Wings
06~13~16
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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We push the pen to make you feel
the gentle tapping of the falling rain,
the stinging burn of the summer sun
the heavy heart of despair and pain.
We push the pen to make you see
the vibrant orange of a monarch wing,
the secretive soul hidden in our eyes,
the golden sunrise in early morning.
We push the pen to make you taste
the sweetness of love's first kiss,
the bitterness of heartbreaking defeat
the richness of pure chocolate bliss.
We push the pen to make you hear
the clear waters babbling in the brook,
the forgotten laughter of our inner child
the cracking spine of a brand new book.
We push the pen to make you savor
the pungent petals of the red rose,
the crisp aroma of a tart green apple
the autumn air that excites the nose.
We each push the pen in different ways
with our own tone of voice and mystique,
an art form that no other can duplicate,
no right or wrong, just wonderfully unique.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015
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I have loved - I have felt ivory love bliss colors.
I have ridden sapphire air of crimson ecstasy -
and touched the silver stars.
I have felt gold, silky, lilac joy move
and embrace my harlequin heart.
I have melted to tangerine delight caresses
tingling my willing, fuchsia skin.
I have been lifted - and turned - and tossed -
on sensual, erotic waves that travel bold -
through and between me
3-11-16
Brian Strand #213 / 10 lines
7th Place
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016
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October sky, the 1st we celebrate, a seasons heart yearned treasured moment,
Sun rises, new beginnings, Enlightens nature, we seek atonement.
Dawn lights an autumn’s crisp chill, christening fallen leaves of tomorrow,
Decorated front porch memories, earthly heritage, smothered sorrow.
Passes monsoons, thirst quenched foliage, brought on dust storms, summer’s breeze.
Colors dancing, enchanting harvest, Orange golden glows, on resting trees,
Cinnamon sneaks by steaming cider, mulls a spiced aroma essence,
Caramel apple, child’s smile, escapes harvest reminisce.
A wonder inspired walk, a gentle kick to wisp away,
Tree’s blessings, fallen life, decorated memories of yesterday.
Crisp leaves falling, sprinkled mist, dripping dew drops land by chance,
Hearts pitter pattered warmth speaks, provoking sudden dance.
Fawns brook side, a mother’s love, protectant father thru seasons dressing,
Such beauty grace lingers freely, coins free, bestows natures blessing.
Falls door opens, touched hearts so deeply, awakened sober love outpours,
God’s mystique he created goodness, for all of us he adores.
Daylights autumn beauty, followed by nightfall’s tucked in kiss,
A glowing lullaby, we’re put to bed; our harvests moon we’ve greatly missed.
Copyright © Chelcie Darling | Year Posted 2016
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I want to see that look
That shows the coming rapture
The face of wanton need
Passion's hungry capture
I want to see that look
Testament to lover's game
To know it’s all my doing
unleashing the untame
I want to see that look
Of sheer helpless submission
Knowing that your release
Is timed to my discretion
I want to see that look
Euphoria’s induction
That plea for more and more
A primal need production
I want to see that look
In hungry naked eyes
And hear those trembling lips
Supplicate, moan and sigh
I want to see that look
Before you’re blown away
Exquisite ecstasy triumph
The signature seductress way
I want to see that look
I WANT to see THAT look
Then I can taste my pleasure
For giving you satisfaction
Brings mine on beyond measure
Eileen
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
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listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn color
announce
autumn is here.
touch,
the echoes
of the rain
that waters
and blossoms spring.
taste,
uncut
the snow shapes
the crisp cold
ices the wintertide.
see,
the sand sculptures
that paint
that rekindle
a childhood summer past.
smell,
the seasonal airs
stimulates the senses
and the memories they carry.
in the glee,
in the hopes and dreams,
in the human spirit,
lives the miracle of life.
the magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody
of echoes and whispers – uncut.
Maurice Yvonne
Any Old Poem Will Do - Contest
For Skat A
Entered: August 29 2014
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
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Over recent months I’ve had trouble with my hearing…
Misinterpreting what is being said isn’t so endearing
Take a step back and think of all the things you would miss if you couldn’t hear at all
The list is endless but here are a few I came up with
The cry of a newborn baby and your child’s first words
The symphony of the dawn chorus
Music and speech on the radio or TV
Phone conversations or chatting with friends
Going to the theatre or to a concert
The door bell or alarm clock ringing
And of course there are those three little words we love to hear …
‘IS DINNER READY ?’
OOPS I MEAN
I LOVE YOU
I took the plunge and saw a specialist and have been fitted with a hearing aid
Wow what a difference it has made
I can hear perfectly now
From the squeak of a mouse to the moo of a cow
And the best bit of all…
If someone is mouthy and starts to scoff
I can quickly turn my hearing aid off!!!
10~06~16
N B I have to approach what has been and what is going on in my life with humour it is just the way I cope with what life throws my way
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,
A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.
The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.
The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.
Gene Bourne
08-01-14
.
Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
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As I walk through the doors of the hall,
I am swept off my feet by such flare.
When I think that tonight’s my first ball,
How I blush thinking thoughts I don’t dare.
Lovely music pours out of the room,
And my hips sway beneath my pink gown.
Mom’s eyes seek a potential bridegroom
Dad’s eyes stop, my swaying with a frown.
Ushered in the big room my eyes dance
As they rush over grandeur so bright
Chandeliers they brought over from France
Fill the room bringing splendour and light
On the sidelines I can’t help but stare
Pretty walls lined with roses and vines
Sweetest scents of Guerlains fills the air
As the ladies and gents sip their wines.
Fine madam’s gowns blend in with the walls
And the heavenly ceiling divine
Pastel angels and blue waterfalls
Someone begs me to dance just in time.
As we twirl on the dance floor I’m charmed
Looking into his eyes, I turn red
And I’m weak in this young man’s strong arms
Looking up angels spin round my head.
All too soon my first ball has to end
Sweetest dreams I shall cherish tonight
When I think of my newly found friend
Just the thought of him brings such delight
Anapest Trimeter
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.27.2014
Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Ballroom Delights
1st place
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
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As flower to the sun, I look to you
As thirsty grass that drinks in drops of dew
As river flowing down to waiting sea
I live again with you a love that's true
I’m lost to life when nestled in your arms
Your lips, your eyes, your body full of charms
I enter softly in your shrine of dreams
My vow to wait the scent of you disarms
Your breath upon my body, how it thrills
Your mouth my hunger with your tongue it fills
I gasp for breath for I am overwhelmed
Your pilgrim hands have reached the sacred hills
I faint with pleasure as you touch inside
My fantasies lie bare and opened wide
You speak to me in urgent whispers low
A plea to let you taste of passion’s tide
Intense becomes the rhythm of our love
Your eyes devour mine from up above
I hold to you as both our souls break free
A blazing flight of eagle and the dove
As flower to the sun, I look to you
As thirsty grass that drinks in drops of dew
As river flowing down to waiting sea
I live again with you a love that's true
Eileen Manassian
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014
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A DAMSEL ENCHANTS FELICITY
Aurora breaks,
Cinderella damsel enchants felicity,
gliding halcyon--
implanting jazzy kisses,
languorous murmurs. . .
Nectared opulent press
quakes reactions.
Succulent tissues urge
virginal wanting: xerothermic,
yearning zenith!
_____________________________________________________________________
*** xerothermic -- adapted to or flourishing to environment that is hot and dry
halcyon -- care -free
CONTEST NAME: 10 OR LESS LINES
Contest Sponsor: Rob
~~2nd place~~
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
2:28 pm, September 23, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
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Echoing
loudly inside my head,
roaring thunder rushing through my veins.
Powers are
chaining me mesmerized,
hypnotizing with a mighty force.
Turbulent
thoughts are racing blindly
spilling into open nothingness.
Crashing down,
only to rise again
as an eternal magical mist.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.27.2014
Nette Onclaud’s Contest:
Some form of Crystalline
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
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Relaxed, lying in a hot bath
Inhaling lavender fragrance,
Watching flickering candles
And shadows dancing on the walls,
Listening to the soothing music
Of Mozart’s piano sonatas,
She gently strokes her silky skin
While feeling her unborn genius
Making music of his own.
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Music ~14th September 2015
Author: Paul Callus
Contest : Mixed Senses
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed 5th
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015
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The wood smoke is rising,
there’s a chill in the air,
the valley’s in shadow,
with the pear tree still bare,
but I know by morning,
what the new day will bring...
It’s the last day of winter;
yes, here comes the spring.
I feel the warmth growing,
with winter veggies to share.
The sweet smell of jasmine,
now wafts through the air.
The call of a currawong,
does melodically ring,
I am so pleased to have,
my five senses in spring.
The last hawthorn berries,
have dropped to the ground,
a scavenging blackbird,
and they’re quickly found.
On cherry plum blossom,
I hear bees on the wing,
I am so pleased to have,
my five senses in spring.
I taste a warm cup of milk,
close to the milking machine.
See the grasses all flourish,
lush in their greenest of green.
I feel a thunderstorm coming,
and smell the rain it will bring,
with my five senses acute,
as days warm up in the spring.
Bird song is now rising,
‘long the course of the creek.
Twin lambs in the meadow,
and a new calf next week.
Hens are back on the lay,
the rooster is crowing.
I am so pleased to have,
my five senses in spring.
Scarlet red is a sunset,
now a day’s work is done.
As frogs chorus the air,
say goodbye to the sun.
Farm life is rewarding,
with the challenges faced.
Each day I test my senses...
Sight hearing smell touch and taste.
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015
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Gathering a plethora,
of abandoned blossoms high and low,
a covered basket and pockets full.
Light footsteps through shady trees
releasing dainty blooms for me,
nature’s soulful aliment like a
rainbow placed strategically
for a little girl's innocent eyes.
Blooms falling into my hands
on a wooded path for one,
then scattering to the wind,
a fanciful dance, free of
pending frailty; prancing
petals take flight
before their glory fades...
How can I preserve
God’s majestic beauty,
petals adorning a late
spring breeze? The newly
green earth and trees -
watch me, watch them.
I am but one girl
gathering blooms
to press between
pages of time or
seep into an intoxicating
potpourri. I could take
a snapshot of these
sacred scatterings but
never could a photo
fill my senses -
the sweet scents,
sounds and touch
of blooms on
a wooded path
and breezes all
around my face,
the sight of God’s
majestic beauty
in a magical place.
If I had one wish it would be, to share
these magical moments with you.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
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The moss clung tightly; making it unbearable to breathe,
and she sealed her lips tighter than a clam’s— not letting the pain take over
As the stars drift silently, like ships on a lost sea of darkness,
she whispers to Hope:
“Swim free and look for the horizon, then come back to me...”
The night; collected on the leaves,
drops fell like Mermaid’s milk onto an already moist floor
Striking the shimmering tearful medium,
it gives birth to a shower of graceful pearls as the dawn awaits
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I hear your voice drift upon a cool ocean breeze;
gilded words of adoration
I glide towards it, praying that it guides me,
strengthens me,
nurtures me
like Mermaid’s milk
Touch as I might, my senses are in-different to please, my voice mute!
Be my Siren’s song and sing for me, serenade my senses back to life...
With an inquisitive tongue, I taste an almost scentless flower
It is but a wisp, a whisper, a flick of a ray of sunshine, but it was There.
So much is lost.
The rivulets of time, hear me, see me, like a ghostly apparition...
Capture me in that moment by lovingly painting me.
Sing me a song while you do,
and let the Mermaid’s milk flow again.
*****
Thank you David, for waiting ever so patiently for my long overdue part--
it was a very nice challenge for me to write this :)
Thank you very much for the inspiring lines...
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012
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There is a place called beautiful nestled deep in my mind's eye
Gingham curtains crisply pressed frame periwinkle summer sky
Brass kettle on the old gas stove reflects cast iron pans
And always at the kitchen sink, I see busy, wrinkled hands.
There is a place called beautiful, I'm transported with a whiff
Of coffee brewing, dark and strong, I long to take a sip.
And in the air a trace of Tollhouse cookies baked this morn
And some perfume that only in this special spot is worn.
There is a place called beautiful I hear in perfect dreams
As Frankie croons and Louis wails all whilst the kettle steams
And as she works, she never tires as she hums and sings along
But the harmony of her lilting laugh is by far my favorite song.
There is a place called beautiful, it tastes like sweetest creams
Made in a bucket with a crank til her arms wore out, it seems
And topped with juicy berries that would burst upon each bite
And juices stained my mouth and clothes most every summer night.
There is a place called beautiful, I long to feel again
The naive sense that everywhere was as safe and free of sin
Where love and peace were daily served with a kiss upon the cheek
And grandma's kitchen always felt like you just found what you seek.
Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2016
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On whispered breeze I hear your plea to feed
Upon my form you wish to feast and dine
I smile as I inhale desire’s need
And know tonight you’ll taste of lover’s wine
I stand before you now as I undress
My fingers tease the buttons on my blouse
Your eyes must touch before your hands caress
Your lips now part from sight that does arouse
I walk to you with swaying steps so bold
My hair unleashed, it tumbles round your face
Down on your knees, your tongue seeks navel gold
And fingers reach above the curves to trace
My hands go round your neck and pull you in
I taste the lobe of ear and gently blow
the words of want and need desire to win
and whisper pleasured treats you soon will know
I feel you tremble neath my roving hands
You breath comes quick and knowing I lean in
to tie your hands to chair with silken bands
I take command of mouth and trace your chin
I tip your head and then devour your neck
Leave marks of ownership just where I please
You rage against the chords as my lips trek
the journey down below to taste and tease
You call my name in throes of ecstasy
I feel your panting breath against my hair
This night is one of wanton revelry
To satiate your needs is my affair
Before the end of this our passion race
I ride the waves of your euphoric greed
You move to rhythm that I set to pace
Until sweet time when pent up love is freed
And now unleashed, you fall into my arms
Upon my silken breast you lay your head
I lull to sleep with all my sweetest charms
As moonbeams blanket us upon our bed
Jade ;) Celeste
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
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Years have come and gone
and the woman in me has seen
the love of the ancients in a dream
the constancy of time...gleams
nothing is as it seems
as I stand before you
I am ripe with age
No longer in the blush of my prime
No longer....sublime
I stand before you
with all my womanly wiles
and all of seduction's sighs spent
Innocence washes over me
carrying me back
on the streams of longing
pouring over me from
the depth of your eyes
birthing in me
the hidden instincts of innocence
as I stand before you
Transformed...
I am a girl again
not yet a woman
not having tasted
the pleasures of passion's gratification
I stand before you
In a voice of wispy wonder and wanton willingness
I whisper your name.....
You stand before me
stepping into the time of Before
both you and I
on the edge of discovery
with the shyness of virgin wants
we stand...
I look down at your hands
As you gently undress me
you peel away inner garments
of time and age
until I am....bare
A blooming beauty of blushing youth
I see it mirrored in your eyes
before I close mine
and venture into this dreamed reality
dressed....
in the instincts of innocence
I float on clouds of awakening need
sensations never felt
tingle a telling tale of sweet sensuality
I feel your fingers trace my lips
as one of them gently dips inside my mouth
I envelope it with a prophetic wetness wild
as it slides and it glides inside...
my innocence....hides
We no longer stand
you make me lie down
with guiding hand
You hove above me
discovering, touching, and tasting
My love for you
in honeyed dew
I come for you
you come in me
innocence now history
We intertwine the time
of before and now
Somehow
We're set free...
How can it be?
You have made....
a woman out of the girl in me
Eileen Manassian
Too late for Justin Bordner's Contest :(
Instincts of Innocence
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
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The soft gentle breeze caresses my skin, tiny ripples washing over me, as cool invisible fingers tickle each tiny hair. I shiver. The path beneath my feet is hard, the narrow veins between the stone uneven but smooth. Leaning down, my fingers explore each stone admiring the artisan's hand. Even cuts and natural imperfections line the face of the pavers from which imaginary flowers and birds and faces, that only I can see, spring to life. Each piece carefully selected for size and shape, puzzled together with perfect precision. The coolness of the stone feels blue like frozen water, or perhaps green like smooth moss. The air colder now I move on, hollow vibrations tingling my hand with each tap of my cane.
09/01/15
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015
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Sighted
Vision, perception
Staring, observing, gazing
Ability to see everything, total visual impairment
Stumbling, groping, touching
Darkness, sightless
Blind
Diamante Contest
Sponsored by Janis Thompson
10~12~16
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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In the deep silence of the night
When perplexity confuses the mind,
I feel your power descend upon me,
Surrender becomes inevitable
As I become malleable under the hammer of love.
I view you, approach, alone, resplendent
In the pale rays of the dazzling moonlight,
As if you were an enigmatic ghost drawing near
In a flimsy wisp of a whirling nightly mist.
Who are you, I ask myself, Love or Death?
Come closer, come, I'm not afraid,
Sing an echoing mermaid song for me
Or slide into an enticing dance macabre.
I thrive upon such inexplicable endeavours,
Where nocturnal elfin whispers and dreamy antics,
So pleasing to the sensuousness of the mind,
Combine to please the florid sensitive nerves
Of this old, tired and jaded mind.
7 June 2016
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
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Luxuriant black hair
Trails your naked body
Soothing all those places
Seared by my burning lips
Waves of silky curls
Cascade over you
Following the rise and fall
Flirting with your fingers
Inviting gentle tugs
Midnight strands curtain your face
As your body emulates
The motion of lips and tongue
A black waterfall of ecstasy
Coconut scented dreams
Of long wavy black hair
Keep a smile there on your face
Until I’m again in your arms
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
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NAUGHTY & NICE
I want to explore your womanhood.
I want to take your mental essence to higher plateaus.
I want to kiss you in the most sensual place.
My desire for you is driving me crazy.
No need to worry love the time has come.
I am yours for now and beyond.
Here I am standing before you.
I am yours to adore.
Give me some sex.
Make me wet.
I am yours to fulfill.
Let’s enjoy ourselves.
Let us make love in the moonlight.
My body yearns for yours.
Your body yearns for mine.
We are both dramatized to captivate each other minds.
Give me some sex.
Come to me with your fine ass.
Make love to me between these satin sheets.
Please me.
Shh, say no more.
I am yours.
|_____________________________________________|
Penned On November 17, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
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