Kissing Poems

marbles kissing

I'll break apart like a marble
of sledgehammer smashing
strangers of this fable,
I look the eye into darkness...

Heresy is a cursed word here
but its all I have ever known
since before and after dust's cleared
and too fatigue for weeds overgrown...

Strangers are often comfort and warm,
honestly without such a false charm
A shoulder for the days we so mourn
after bullies

Then he kissed me

Couldn't have dreamt this,
His tender first kiss,
Nibbled his lips, 
Kissed my fingertips,
Kissed molasses hair, 
Love his kissing flair,
Kissed a thousand times,
His mouth just rhymes,
Our attraction,
Love in action,
Lip sync bliss,
Love his kiss,
Kissing sublime,
Withstood all time.......

Kissing

You are handsome
Like a japanese wise cartoon
I love walking next to you
I love seeing you straight in your almond eyes
As youth evaporates from you
I love kissing you in the bench
At the park
For hours.

lady bugs kissing on feathers

lift me up, birds of praise,
I'm sinking in the spaces
of this unholy void.
She twirls with her lace,
and momentarily paces,
this cemetery is wired
hidden in darkest grit soils.
if our passion builds a fire,
elementary of the passion
we even forget our names.
As our eyes staked to claim
awkwardly drawn together,
so newly shyly terrifying,
if the spark wasn't mystifying,
lady bugs kissing on

T'was the Night Before Christmas- Not for Contest

Everything was ready for Christmas Day.
New toys were wrapped for the children to play.
We had all decorated the Christmas Tree.
Gifts in pretty paper were placed carefully.
The stockings were hung.
We had rehearsed carols to be sung.
We were all snug in bed.
The children wishing it was morning instead.
When suddenly Father ran out in the snow.
For what, we

MARTY KING AND SHENIKA SIMS: kissing the tip of a rainbow

MARTY KING

sometimes i kiss the tip of a rainbow
golden maturity feels so ocean fresh
traces of lavender calms the vibe of overbearing reality
though time continues to be rebellious and uncaring
you provide a blanket of warmth that rehabilitates my sanity
everything slows down
your beautiful smile on my life feels so good

SHENIKA SIMS

sometimes i kiss the tip of a

On Kissing the Blarney Stone

"There is a stone there, that whoever kisses, OH! He never misses, to grow eloquent" Author not mentioned at link to Blarney Stone - Blarney Castle

I walk the path amid the trees 
Where footsteps even now are tread,
where ancient stones of Blarney please, 
and lips upon the stone have wed.
 
 Enchanting are the turrets

He caresses the pen with the grace of the ocean kissing the shore

He caresses the pen with the grace of the ocean kissing the shore,
Velvety words wait to pour into the black ink,
When he gives them life, thoughts become forms of overwhelming beauty,
Tears are born from the eyes of those who watch them silently and in wonder.
A multitude of hearts follows the path of his golden metaphors,
Astonished

TO KISSING POETIC LIMBO GOODBYE

Sitting here

in igneous space

wrestling with naked thoughts

finds me face to face

with sad beauty:

the navel of time

is emblematic

that the poetic seed

must first fertilize the mind

that its womb may birth forth

yet another mused child of light

to shatter the unique ghost darkness

hidden within fibers of fading blank pages,

fading blank pages, awaiting poetic revival:-

 

 

Burger Kissing or Banquet Feasting?

We have hungerly kissed
        lovely, lifeless corpses
        when eating plants and animals,
        which daily nourish our bodies.

But do we pay our proper respects
        to those dearly departed

Valentine's Day

A beautiful colorful day,
every flower greeting hellos.
I'm joyfully kissing love,
many nights.
Only polite quiet recipients,
sound true universal valentines.
Wanting xylophone youthful zeal.

Kissing Song

I'd love to kiss you on the lips
A dream come true for me
I really want to kiss them 
I hope it comes to be
I think I'd need to practice 
I'd want to get it right 
But now I must prepare you
That could take all night 
I know I wouldn't mind though 
I've wanted for so

Rut, This Rut

this daylight is relentless
the trees are still out there
with their ochre
with their unwavering brace
on the land, frayed
yet how I am steadfast, not
and more
I am kissing the wind

The Kissing Gate

‘far from the madding crowds’ and cars
this green and pleasant land of ours

conceals behind its dry stone walls
secrets, streams and waterfalls

where stepping stones that gather moss
shine forth and tempt us both across

to distant fields of eighties’ skies
now clouded through autumnal eyes

where sheep still bleat as we both pass
along old paths of weathered grass

rekindling thoughts as

Kissing Ghost

An abattoir, a hymn of scythes severing flesh, is sung mellifluously by a siren with onyx scales. Bubbles in the twilight abyssal depths, a symphonic orchestra of eels gavotte. Orbs watch at these pressures with nefarious intent. A giant squid is snatched, bursting ink and limbs.

The Kraken appears, crepuscular eyes nocturne, its beak slurping up

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