my ...
fingers are
tactile moonbeams …
and like that porcelain light
I let them dance upon you, bare -
tiptoe across your shy
places with a
delicate (but deliberate)
adoration ...
many, the times they've made
this dermal sojourn
yet each is as if the first -
softer, sweeter, more
sure that the journey is as savory
as it’s delicious end …
each inch, it's own mystery
here-and-there your flesh jumps and
rises as you coo and sigh -
little bumps follow that spread
to the rest of you
like moonlite spattering the sea …
but your sea is mine -
an ocean of tender integument
beneath my touch …
much deeper
and darker
warmer …
and where I
long to …
drown.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
etched …
into flesh …
into the warm muscle of my being
your colors … stained me …
each a story
each a passionate moment of unusual depth
from the reds of your hot blood,
coursing me
the warm ochers - your joyous spirit
cool sapphires, your eerie ire
sadness and hurt, the slates and grays
envious emeralds, (brief)
dazzled white brilliance, your smile
and the utter inky black of your quiet rage
a color that devoured all others -
that devoured me
choking
gasping for your grace
(always granted) …
you are the ink
and I am your integument
you have written your sins and supplications
upon me …
the stories they tell,
indelible and intransigent …
a bit of pain and bleeding with
each glyph and letter
wiped smooth by the sweet, soft
soothing of your spirit …
I am your carnal canvas -
your searing brand
immutable and love-deep
I am your …
tattoo.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, July 13, 2024
You are a lustful Pharisaic shark, who feeds voraciously from the sea of corruption.
You turn your soul away from the righteousness of God's ordinance, and now your head is sick with greed.
Your flesh burns with desire.
Your heart becomes laden with iniquity.
You wear an integument crimson as you let the tide of immorality navigate you to an equable rookery.
You are trapped in a world of get rich, stay rich syndrome.
So, at will, you summon your false devoted mien when you assemble the sheep.
You are a rhetoric genius.
You are brilliant in systematic explanations of the biblical text with theatrics and thematic expository narratives.
With an unpurified soul, you instill in yourself the force to be personable and charismatic as you sink your articulate fangs deep into the throats of your faithful sheep.
You gave birth to yourself and you live in a realm of narcissism.
You live with no prickling stings of regrets.
January 16, 2023
1 Timothy chapter 3 verse 8
2 corinthians chapter 8 verse 21
A walk of freedom from the dark days of suffering,
The yoke shattered as the sun shines on his dusty face,
Once Slaved to his fellow man for integument difference.
The toil of his endless slavery accompanied by scourges,
His bare back bent to the sky and the whips of his master,
The Black Man was fervent in his virtuous desire for his good future.
The rusty chains left a shackled scar on his freedom path,
The virtuous future once longed for granted to him,
He's now a master of himself no longer bound to slavery.
With a pure heart of Gold he ascent to abide with his torturer,
Anew beginning for both race as they sojourn in peace,
All to the detriment of the Black Man.
Just like the saying goes “Old Habits Never old masters became wearied of equal rights with the slave,
Soon He was tagged niggard for trying to survive,
In a stound prejudiced once more for his skin colour.
Enslaved once more by laws of the old masters,
The Black Man returns to a mental plantation picking cotton.
Judged By the skin colour the Black Man continues in a race of life seeking equality and servile to Racism.
SAY NO TO RACISM
dirty-breathed, it lies awake
thrumming with a pulse its own
veins feeding integument
coursing with humanity
its bejeweled breast reaching
shaming the heavens themselves
weaving progress ... with the stars.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Finish Line In Seven" Poetry Contest, Nette Onclaud, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Brian's Choice G, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
( Theme: 'City Life' / seven syllables per line - counted at HowManySyllables.com )
The new season did just start at last
slowly crept shedding its past outer
winter integument. Displaying
proudly attracting meticulous
attention with its graceful stylish
semblance. Scent of delicious greener
with elegant chromaticity,
art gallery of nature's sailcloth.
A wheelbarrow, pruning shears, shovel
and hoe parked in the backyard near a
blooming fuchsia bougainvillea
needing a trim. It frames a bedroom
window drawing attention as it
stalks up the red concrete brick tangled
with a lolled white sweet-scented jasmine
vine as it scans the highest rooftop.
A flicker of movement behind the
spiky thorns and fuchsia blooms a green
lizard scampered up the wall and vanished.
3/26/2019
Poetry Contest: Bougainvillea
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Sin
Oh, my ...
Desire, divine
What I would give
To nibble your saucy bits
You are a wine-taster's banquet
Each exquisite inch of your integument
Hides a sweet savor all its very delectable own
Poured to pique the primal compulsions
And treat the tongue, its tang
What a journey it could be
Inch-to-sublime-inch
A fiery feast
Of you ...
Skin.
* FIRST PLACE in the "Contest 425 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *
Haunting and haunted,
These visages with lacy, saponaceous curds
Depending and plummeting,
Do I on the pebbled porcelaneous integument
Of the whitish shower floor scrawl.
I wonder, as frothy masses of foamy, bubbled soap
In the shower traverse mine body and ripple and course
Undulant across my sinews, driven by the pound and pour of the
Plunging, cascading cataract of pressurized shower water....
I wonder, I mull and I ponder over the
Accounting, the tally, the sum total of those
Ephemeral faces by soap and pressured water engendered:
Those ghastly and spectral faces which precipitate
Diluted, water-blasted soaps have, in
Soppy, splashy, soap-lashing
Depositions on that pebbled floor atop of which I stand
(Or did when the inspiration for this poetical work mine
Did, whilst erectly bathing, occur to me)
Yet how many multitudes of these
Through the course my myriad bathings and showerings;
How many of those horrid, demonical, haunting and haunted
Physiognomies did I of a moment
Indirectly will, if you will, into being-
Even whilst the shower coursed pluvial and pouring waters thundered all around?
She danced upon my sleepy knife-edge
Rem sleep concealed; my hollow tin ledge
Was the naked girl who stole my show
Labanotation echoed her tarred shamed knees
Free falling from grace, cumulating fees
Have every my gutter pushed so low?
Integument tally, a dollar per pound
Rumoured lies within; no truth found
Flesh voucher paid in Bordeaux
So I flickered in though
Scar tissue hand did plough
My poured soda fountain flow
black petal lips
and budding hips
with soft sighs she sips
a pitcher of wine rose
moon kissed locks
and dainty socks
cups that overflows
apple cider eyes
and vanilla bean skies
a dull ache mulling
his deep voice lulling
french tipped nails
abed rigid sails
air brushed smiles
and earthly wiles
a blackberry haze
her integument maze
he does explore
she does adore
Like intense bone rattling thunder in a perfect storm,
my tidal waves crash upon your integument shores.
Jared Pickett
3/23/2010
Asavvy1
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