Best Stimulations Poems
Captured by a young man with an old soul that's good to the
bone.
Her desires awaits patiently and yet fulfilled as he joins her at her
throne.
A mile away he can hear her voice whispering in his ears oh
soo Sofltly.
Saying, that her desires which are kept in secret need not come out, they ARE
Costly.
Captured by a cougar with true beauty that has a predilection for young
meat.
She quenches the thirst in his eyes by her presence, yet he gets sooo
weak.
The right environment explodes to never ending imaginations and pure
intimacy.
Constantly caressing, hugging, kissing and passion that turns into more
creativity.
Their lips begin to speak a different language that's spoken oh sooo
quietly.
She feels the muscles of his arms wrapped around her body sealed oh sooo
tightly.
Unbreakable emotions results to stimulations that are non fictional, not planted, but up rooted, as she loves it Sooo Rightly.
God gave a promise to us,
that our children would be more than the stars in the sky
He would give us life abundantly;
multiplying and expanding without end,
vast and innumerable will God's family be
Children of eternity
Be we have not all been faithful
to believe this holy vow of promise
Selfish desires possesses the wayward souls,
careless pleasures are all some seek ...
bodies addicted to sexual stimulations
Unwanted seeds conceived in beds of lust
are taken to the high priestess Noitroba,
and placed on the sterile altar in her temple of death
Drink the chemical poison,
wither the life within
Twice dead ...
make the dying womb barren again
Life was given unto them,
but they, selfishly, refuse to give life to someone else
Pleasure seekers, sex slaves
Chained to carnal desires
They love to indulge in acts of procreation,
but they hate to taste of the fruit it produce
They spit out the seeds
Where are their children,
where are their children's children?
They possess no Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
a dry tree is their DNA spiritual makeup
So many empty vessels containing no seeds of life
The children of eternity will still sprout into existence,
though some have tried to turn God's fertile truth into a barren lie
God gave a promise to us,
that our children will outnumber all of the stars in the sky
Unifying Theories of Chemistry
Plants react in synthesis
Stimulations sunlight
Breathing the winds causes
Through fluid chains
Reproducing flowering responses
And systematically chemistries
Drive in attractions of curiosity
Stranger love crushes
To your ignition sexual A-symmetry
Produces adrenaline's certain heat
And senses blood pounding
So photosynthetic initiates
The A.T.P. of chemical currency
Splits living links furthering
More simple to more complex
Colour element changing
Leaf green to red Anthocyanin
As well as a suntan
Skins concourse in molecules
Precipitates and reverberates
The bonded genome of D.N.A.
Creating myriad form
Tangent on thoughts
Even dreams
Evolve chemical reactions
While sun by sea explodes
Atomically
The light amino manifestation
Walks among trees
Respiring in cycles
Of exchanging formulations
Alchemy of oxygen’s infusing
And well with emotion
Binds its stanza’s of interpretation
Given word then
Another descriptions connection
To connection
Connected
By a star lights birth
Indivisible this “All” travels
Forth and back to a
Higher or lower osmotic pressure
And back and forth
Between lovers
As waves drawn to beaches
By the gentle pull
Of sands moon distracted
Infatuated affair
With the Earth
This chemistry of love
The chemical of life
Patterns intricate mazes
In a micro-cosmos
Of eternal meaning
And a baby
Is born
While the boundless eternity
Moves and collects
Responsive concurring
Dust mote intercepts
From wide eyes stares
Which interpret
A scene
Of its own manifest beauty
Even in tears of sadness
The ceretonine balances
To intercede with memories
Moments of happiness
The infinite qualification
Of chemical reaction
Clues us in
Yet again
To this fundamental
Unity
The ink in my pen writes and demands to be heard
It screams peace, justice, and hope as it pens God’s word
As my ink flows, there are too many days that I cried
From the truth of my past pain I witnessed my words of poetry haven’t lied
But I’m a man who was beaten, and his insanity denied
I never gave up my will to survive, so every day I tried
My fear of not knowing fueled my weakness but; it also gave my faith strength
Jesus’s love swathed my soul, his mercy and grace healed my body at length
The lies of disease and defeat that served as unworldly stimulations
The words of Jesus gave me encouraging hope, which healed my past
condemning revelations
With all my life’s tribulations and experiences that I’ve witnessed I know that
Jesus will heal this nation
I write this poem to God to show my appreciation
The ink in my pen will never run out
Because Father God will never forsake and leave me without a doubt
time standing stlll
arrested
moments revealed
in stimulations
of the mind
revealed lluminations
of the past yesterdays
becoming today
tomorrow's postponed
memory
past pictures live again
momento mori in hypereality
as monuments
to past existence
from shadows of transience
sentient touchstones
in memorials of perception
aesthetic sublimations
of immersive
spontaneity
fascinating expectations
in a visual genesis
of suspended animation
still distant
now living again
February 5, 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
One who is steadfast with resolve follows the yellow brick road…
Awareness fused with understanding co-creation connection transforms burden’s load…
The Prince is emerging from her kiss, shedding the mundane form of the toad…
The now moment is upon me; reveal the beauty of my inner crystal geode…
Observation requires stillness from stimulations…
Mind relentlessly labels giving meaning interpretations…
Spinning and whirling with confusion creating limitation…
Synchronicity whispers guidance giving clues of desired questions…
What is this vibrating configuration of atoms, molecules and matter?…
Asking…
What I am?
Listening intently guides me upward on Jacobs latter…
Allowing a new vision shatters the glass box implanted within this being…
Blooming my inner lotus love flower is all that truly matters…
Replacing fear of unknown with wonder…
Centering to my heart, connected to the earth…
Giving my love with purity; knowing, believing achieving…
My divine sacred rebirth…
As I move forward fusing with loves wrath…
It is not my desire to mark the previous path…
For I shall reside here in this now moment…
Knowing I am whole; complete, blessed with divine creation components…
Gathered as a swarm of bees,
He stands poised with swollen knees,
Squinting forcefully towards fleeting
Dreams, beyond the dreadful, scum sucking
Incumbants, bathing in their own excrement.
Eyes opaque like a hard boiled egg;
Squishy, bleeding yoke chased
By morbid impulses and frenzied statements.
He was then approached by a herd of hallowed
Holograms, draped with voided encodements borrowed
From sagacious salamanders, and the like. It's priced
Similarly to what can never be bought.
Open wounds salved with the next bloody
Thought, entangled incessantly with petty
Constructs protruding simultaneously, with
Belligerance graced by drunken discourse.
Fingers dance to the beat of the force
Ash pummels perverted protagonists perched
Precociously, pompously, perpetually a passage
Penetrates related, inflated, deflated Ids and egos.
Happenstance leaks out in porous rivulets linked
Like DNA strands sullied, salty, sacreligious
Particles, still he permeates into tinctures
Possesing glorious stimulations with sphincters.
I needed help in figuring out who this heart is really for…..
Feelings arrive leaving me feeling silly at times, though much too often
it passes…..daring never to lift my spirits again for that special feeling.
Joy has never been this good to me, she was never there.
Can I dispel the magic? Step through barely harmed and peeled away the wonder….
The world may not learn who I really am, his folds and creases, the corners with the worn edges.
Can I miss the pity it never cared to give?
Maybe……I could try.
Once we realize love can take on many forms,
we could possibly accept it more openly and give it more freely.
Heavenly stimulations so terrible exist to transcribe what I’ve found quite meaningful to be discussed…..
Agony settles in where promises wane and the need for resolution
has met its last couple of sentences.
Shadows making their way across my story trample my sunset
as they clamor for the conclusion.
I hold court to entertain dubious expectations and mismanaged thoughts fraught with ideal intentions.
Singular matters are shown inadequate,
Purposeful examinations once allowed to pass….now fail,
tranquil, treachery, teeters till the twenty-fifth hour….
Is there a tomorrow? Will love bring along with it
another sunrise?
Written 21 MAR 2018 in Austin, Texas
Quote: "Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise." Unknown Author of a well known poem.
As the day meanders by,
Sunbeams still stream from the sky,
With so many promises left to fulfil.
And a relaxed sensation lingers still.
Euphoric stimulations rush through my mind,
A pulsating tempo, urging me on to unwind.
A peace in knowing, what I know to be so,
I fret for the knowledge of what I don’t know.
Alarmed yet inspired by the sun’s sudden sinking.
The loss of this day sets my mind feverishly thinking.
A panicked realization, harshly jolted by twilight.
The day is ending and turning to night.
I watch the golden orb with its crimson halo.
Each unfinished promise must wait, this I know.
The sun melts into the far off shadowy hills,
My failure to complete each task, now gives me chills.
However, sunset’s glowing beauty of splendor untold.
I rest as night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
Knowing that tomorrow’s arrival is surely set in stone.
In this moment
Of sheer damned damage
I grasp it
As if I owned it
It's devasting tragedy
It's underwhelming overture
A symphony of sadness
Bringing a drabness
To a whole new light
For your eyes
Enter surprise
Everytime an Eden dies
Paradise is lost
As the look upon
Your bewildered face
A well known man
Prospered today
By throwing all his
Troubles away
Without a care
In the sand or sky
He blows his glass house
With all his might
A God once
Begat this wind
Let it blow the new tide in
A counterpart to a planet
It's moon
Gave a perfect ellipse
On which it sways and swoons
On a day which burns like June
The synopsis starts
To fall in tune
I see now how earth was born
Spitting out from fiery arms
A mass that just basks us
In a light
A light for us to read at night
Knowledge was his first insight
That built his godhead
Into a sturdy third eye
Now they called us civilized
What turn is forming
Next for mankind
Robots becoming biological
Humans becoming machines
Still the fear is there between
The lines and cracks, overlooked
Where I currently hold my peace
In a place that don't exist
In a place you won't believe in
I stretch my imagination
On the cusp of my creation
These words can burn in better now
As visual stimulations
Spirit of green engendered in liberty
Sweeping across the glanded glades
Tangled tree spirits in tarnished brief
Dancing shades of sunlit lauded leaves.
Some reveries of buttercups in a sea of grass
Sporting squirrels where frolicking en-mass
A listed gesture abbotted in a shallow ditch
Songs of flyers in myrtled melodious pitch.
Conversers of the mind in greenish code
Stimulations of heart in a gentler mode
Spirits of nubile shadows laying aside
Some sultry caresses for the winded bride.
Proximity
Virility displaying
Animalistic hunting
Desirous energy coursing
Transparency in longing
Saturating primal urging
Sweaty scent promising
Sexual stimulations pulsing
Electrifying depths arousing
Voracious hunger thundering
Sleek predator pouncing
Jugular vein clamping
Contracting muscle exploding
Entangled bodies rolling
Beating hearts pounding
Killing swiftly, climaxing
Tousled tongue hanging
Satiated needing
Evermore Evermore they must settle a score,
They were shown the door and never knew the reason for
Jilted like an unwanted lover
True the audience thinks they have enough money to cover.
But still they wanted to be the silver screen siren not an average mother.
So here we watch the films they were in
Where their big scene with a scream is followed by the next of kin
Their characters were never in the book since they are casted just for their good looks.
Critics state they are trying to act
And for the most point that is an honest fact
After the day’s work, they go back wondering why they were kicked out of their sport.
It is the truth they are there to be cute
Since what really sells isn’t watching someone go through hell.
No, I must state I will pay money to see someone who I would date.
Even know in the end they end up eaten by a gigantic rat named Ben.
So here on a Sunday Morning after watching something on a Saturday Night when you did not heed that warning.
Last night’s rendezvous which was cool
When you ventured into that prohibited swimming pool.
Yes, I must say we do enjoy the feeling we get
Watching you get stabbed when you are totally wet
In lieu of flowers when you leave that shower, we just want to say we do care
When you are vulnerable and scared
Let it be known when you do not answer the phone
We are there watching over you when you are alone.
When the character enters to spell your demise
We will always know they are all telling lies
As the DVD light shines during the late hour
We know our B movie friends do still have the power
They are the reason we spend the time
Watching their film as it unwinds.
When realities social is not there due to all the things that are not fair
This modern-day relationship can due for those who are not being played as a fool.
It causes no problems for anyone and to be honest it can be kind of fun
Enjoy the images as they unspool enjoying the pictures that are more healthy stimulations then lamb stew.
Thanks for being our moving photographs of beauty
And to be honest yes, we do appreciate the nudity.
Some years ago,
having more than I needed
and time on my hands,
I deposited funds from
one side of the country
to the other.
Private, closet sized rooms,
sanitized for my protection,
visual stimulations upon request.
Today my progeny are everywhere,
and not once in all those years
so much as a father's day card
from the ungrateful little rug-rats.
I write romantic poems and vignettes, these are leftover lines that were cut from them.
I ran a Perplexity search and all these lines are "No attribution found" - so they're mine!
Sweet talk glitters like fireworks but fades quickly
into regrets that linger like afterglow
Cupid never aims, he enjoys chaos.
Don’t mistake a boy's attention for affection.
Love writes poetry; heartbreak edits it.
Romance begins with laughter and verbs
and ends with self-interest and subjunctives.
“Do you have any hobbies?”
“I collect romantic mistakes,”
In my youth, you’d know I was trying to get lucky
if I was wearing mascara.
Are guys worth the hours of makeup?
I’ll let you know in the morning.
I believe in love and latex.
Nothing interrupts a good fight like sex.
Desire is want without conscience.
When I’m sweet talked properly, like a poet,
I can forget that I’m cynical.
Flattery is incomplete foreplay.
Lust sneaks in like an opportunity
Romance is how we frame sex so it feels civilized.
Never confuse seduction with sincerity.
Pleasure is the first stage of regret.
Passion is mischief in poor lighting.
My mind usually outraces stimulations,
which can leave me alone at the finish.
.
.
Songs for this:
The usual things by Marshall Crenshaw
Paprika by Japanese Breakfast