Best Stickiness Poems


Dawning Desires - Repost

~

Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls

You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon

Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us

Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own

Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty

Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations

Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings

I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers

And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love

~


It is an unusually cold morning here so 
I thought I would repost this and warm
the place up a little. : )

The Price of Oil, Part I

The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice 
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted 
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands, 
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand 
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved 
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams - 
get down! get down! get down! 
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed, 
his eyes closed with new mom 
gently caressing matted, cark curls, 
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers 
grip the plastic ribbing 
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out 
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted, 
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps 
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay 
as she holds him, hurting for him, 
everything that might happen, 
everything that will happen, 
and she drifts off to slumber, 
mother and child peacefully spent 
in soft pretty colors 
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan 
with government plates at the curb 
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway 
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God) 
to regretfully tell her, 
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs 
regretfully cannot hold her 
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son, 
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.
© Sean Swain  Create an image from this poem.

Dawning Desires

Dawning Desires


Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls 

You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet, 
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon

Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings 
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us

Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own

Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty

Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping   
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth, 
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations

Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings 

I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,  
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers

And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love

Good morning Soupers


Gum In a N.Y Subway

Retired sweetness paints
a tiled mosaic of
unpredictable patterns.

Black, brown shapes
spatter the 
grey concrete of 
an underground kingdom.

The fresh ones burn
pink and seafoam 
green against
this steely blue 
and yellow lined world.

The stickiness clings
onto shining 
out of spectrum, 
before becoming
another dot
in dark masses.

STEEL AND SILK

My love like steel and silk
      cuts through you 
            splutters your blood
                watermelon juice down a throat

Wipes it with yellow silken ribbon
             for you to suck afresh
                  that you may find your
                                 Godly seed within

My love like dragonflies and bees
       silently landing on stamen or pistils 
                alchemising nectar into patterned 
                                dust upon transparent wings

Earth rewards my love with morning glory 
       steel severs sunflower stems 
                  silkworms crawl into a wet rose centre
                              pollen stolen in sparkling dew

My steely silken love refreshed 
                     from your flowered stickiness

Premium Member One Who Likes Honey

one who likes honey
sweetness whispered
   whiff of wetness
portent of shadows
                     sleeping
        off the cold
    tundra
to utter…to utter
                   insane
   barely brave
bravado covers
     the lay
of miles and miles
stickiness roars
 from his lips
don’t be insane
   his name
an apparition
    waiting
      to wake up
your nightmares
  the intent
of silhouette
     moving across
your tent’s face
               chiaroscuro
      drawn onto
your forehead, eyelids,
  cheeks, nose, chin
   distorting the thrill
    you felt at dusk
this polar beast
 might employ
your safety net
as a handkerchief
   then nibble
a late night snack

(hand over mouth)
     “b     e     a     r”


Summer Storms

Sultry sodden sky
Stifling stickiness release
Sudden summer storm

Deep River

The color of the river is navy blue
The rivers current motion is so wavy
The wavy river sinks my feet in deeply
My feet which touch the sand gently
Swimming outwards towards the river is risky
Swimming outwards towards the river I see a fishy
The fishies are swimming around me somewhat crazy
This crazy feeling makes me feel dorky
The sand which rubs against my feet feels quite bubbly
The wetness of the sand is so muddy
The mud which sticks on my feet feels yucky
The yuckiness within my feet feels so mucky
The stickiness within my feet makes me feel icky
I need a lot of water to take the sand off me
When I stare at the river, I see a duck lonely
I think the other duckies see it as an ugly ducky
This ugly ducky is not a rubber ducky
I see the ugly ducky as a cutie
That cutie ducky is so lucky
Thank goodness that lucky ducky has me
All those other duckies are so unlucky
When my mommy saw me holding the ducky
The ducky took off in a hurry
The poor ducky took off feeling kinda panicky
That's the panicky feeling I get when she calls me
My mommy lovely wants me in a jiffy
That's the lovely moment I feel kinda frisky 
That frisky moment makes me acutely

I Should Have Let It Go

I should have let it go,
   theunkind words they spoke
the phrases unjustly, hurtfully said
   but you know me...
My mind thinks and mulls the words
   over and over again.
They churn like whipped shakes and malts
   until they begin to overflow.
Before realized, they spill over
   onto counter tops and make a mess.
Cleanup doesn't serve me well
   as the disliked stickiness is spread
Soon, everyone around sees and knows
   that thing they said  -
I should have let it go,
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Humidity

Humidity’s validity
Is limited to plants
‘Cause people would avoid it
If they only had the chance.

For mugginess, like bugginess,
Does nothing but annoy.
It’s not the type of weather
That I ever could enjoy.

The ickiness of stickiness
Just brings me to my knees.
I’m sure I’m not the only one
Who’d much prefer to freeze!

Alternate Reality

The lonely evening falls again
The night is fast becoming my favourite friend
Where the moon it shimmers all over your skin
Let out the bad vibes
Invite the freedom in
Ride we must our dreams through the night
The hazy traffic stickiness fading
Leading traces of forgotten memories
Blank as these sheets of paper the future awaits
The past flutters, torn out notebooks
Ashes in the rain
It was there I saw you
Lying in the dirt
Blackened eyes crying
Little fingers tug my senses open
A drugged-up film
These memories toxic and sweet
Passing through veins and skin
Flesh and bones
Everything will break
Only the strong will survive

The Demise of Pangaea -Part 2-

You don’t know how parted we are
Uncharted we are
The piano keys sooth the turbulent sea and music melts the burning icebergs
Pride sinking a ship…giving into nature
Hands severed and torn, pressing lightly on the stained ivory
The creatures are mourning for the death of loved ones
While men in white laugh, masked by the ghosts of their own insanity  
Stained with foreign blood
People speak out against it while many others follow me to the grave
Like the single stone in the chalk piece scrapes against the black board
We feel the pain with our empathetic minds without having to hear the chalky cries 
Subconscious we are transformed…informed
Knowing that once parted, no earthquake can make us whole again
We couldn’t visit her today…he was forced to go
The mercy found in these crevices is buried in the snow
I hate it when I can’t find words to describe the way I feel
I would like to tell him how I feel…but the air
Is too thick here… 
And the sea parts us…blue eyes are merely brown…
The grass is greener there
We’re all the same…we fear…we cry
The web still weaves us together but dew tears stick to the strands
And flies that we feed on destroy the unity of the intricate network
Reassuring words mend temporarily…but you leave again
Hairs grow gray and the black stickiness is fresh once more 
Light pours in canyons of crayons…the flower is a scam
The smell of childhood lighting up our lives with the little fuel we have
Jealously thrives through…and they won’t stop touching them
Some look into the mirror and cry everyday…
Bruises turn to gold and they sell artifacts already sold
The buzzing vibration of my phone is ignored tonight…
I’m on my last bar…
I’m dying…I really am
Dying to know WHY. Dying to give life 
Parting the lands to flood obscurity…
Pangaea, what can make you whole again?

Wrapped In the Same Skin

I want to slide into you,
Not between the stickiness of sheets,
But between the spaces of your synapses.

I want to taste your saliva on my lips, 
Not from the wetness of your tongue,
But from the passage of your words.

I want to encompass you,
Not between the thickness of my thighs,
But between the limits of my life.

I want to indulge myself in your scent,
Not from the potency of your perfume,
But from the familiarity of your presence.

Fragment by fragment, 
I will emerge myself in You,
Until I feel that we are wrapped in the same skin.

Premium Member Gone and (Almost) Forgotten ......

Lamentation for what you are losing. 
A situation not of your choosing. 
Powerless in its execution. 
Watching from the shadows as 
the scene unfolds before you. 

A bag of broken promises 
standing in the corner - waiting 
for recycling or incineration - 
no-one knows, but gone for ever 
in the familiar form you knew. 

Your heart lies broken in the dustpan. 
A few fragments scattered on the floor. 
She tries to sweep them up, but carelessly 
drops the container in transit and curses 
as it leaves a dust trail to the door. 

How cold she looks.  Her face fixed in 
resolution.  Determined to get the rooms 
of her life scrubbed clean and free from 
memories of you.  Reminders of you two 
as you were, happy once, laughing, loving. 

Out to the trash wagon goes your world. 
With no knowledge of the significance, 
it is tipped in ignorance into the swirling, 
churning lumber of the neighbourhood, 
and ground to meaningless pulp. 

She stops on the way to retrieve a minute 
piece of hope deposited on her shoe - 
stuck like gum and adhering to the pavement 
as she walks.  A good tug and it is gone, but 
she tuts as it leaves stickiness on her fingers. 

Back in the sanitized emptiness 
she pauses to view her clean slate. 
Still icy in her survey, she doesn't notice broken you, 
forgotten in the cupboard - heart ripped out, 
memory mutilated, living only in the shadows. 

The door creaks and she is alerted, 
she quickly runs to close it - crisis averted. 
Must get a lock for that door 
and throw away the key - 
the heart can't grieve if the eye can't see.

Dark Shadows

His eyes held a dead brilliance 
Showing an empathy and compassion
Did his soul embrace any resilience 
How she brought infinite passion 

Standing over her he felt a vulnerability 
Fascination he had in her left him confused
As an inhuman beast he had capability 
To leave her alone he would refuse 

Her pulsating blood drew his attention 
Thoughts of its warm stickiness so red 
Gave him an undeniable appreciation 
Standing in the shadows as the undead 

Disciplined willpower not to have a taste
Though entombed by its very smell 
Consequences of these actions, a waste 
For she was his never ending hell

Though hell he knew well as a vampire 
He could enter her mind, and hypnotize
See he wanted her for his own empire 
Wanted her love but that she has to realize

Actions he’d rather not deal with consequences 
Now he cursed his profound moral compass
He only hoped she’d come to her senses 
Decision and out come she must encompass

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