Long Friction Poems
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Contest ; Haven
Sponsor ; Constance La France
posted. ; 14th September 2026
My home, lull amidst balm, solace in sequestered dwelling,
escape from rampant load and skewed burden in towns,
where close knit family loiter with passions swelling,
wistful hindsights swoon oe’r sumptuous tree crowns,
I extol mint leaf purlieus, tranquil garland phase,
in course sentient, where friction, discord, worry,
is banished at the whiff of an ambrosial haze,
prismatic hues, scenic views soothe when in a hurry,
seconds taciturn as the peep day sunrise looms,
to linger in silence yet caress the spring omen,
purple clouds tint cocooning garden blooms,
In artic winter, tranquil spot engulfs twin snowmen,
time counts for little when under bright shelter’s spell,
relief from futile rigours found behind green hedge,
sweet chirp from red crest bird cordons off this shell,
mine to cling to and seek refuge when life is on edge,
fresh fruit one munches in orchard dribbles down chin,
to pluck mushy berries from sprawling brambles,
and inhale scented gust with a surreal grin,
heaven in a haven, sweet home from madcap scrambles
In the biblical Egyptian pitch-black of my bedroom
I take 40mg of melatonin and proceed to talk to the ceiling with hand gestures, for considerable time
The only evidence remains my leaden morning limbs,
(Vestige measured in a remembrance of the flesh)
the classic somatic cipher of the forgotten ‘night before’
arms that don’t bend right, bone-deep weariness signifying some sort of unbeknownst movement, silent attempts
The only evidence remains Friction with the atmosphere,
a sort of ‘woosh’ of the air slap
And I talk and talk to God, who hears my ‘wooshes’ like tackles and throws in a match,
judge among spectators
As he weighs down on my limbs and guides the winds every which way
So that friction is surrounding instead of guiding
Fervently yet stumbling, I ramble corporeally about having no wants
But the ability to desire
Red eyes, forcefully widened, held open by speculums
Last night I was sleep’s huntress
Chasing after my sustenance, threateningly following for sweet relief
Last day, sputtering engine out of fuel
Tonight I am sleep’s prey
My body, my enemy, bent on survival
pumping me full of adrenaline against my consent
The prey awaits in rest,
unless Enlightened
Eye contact at a bar,
Laughter mixes pheromones,
Irises dilate as dark euphoria sets
Two unavoidable actions in motion.
His double action Adams apple pumping
As her lips glisten after a tongue bath.
Lightning cracks inside, deafening logical rhythm,
Channeling energy into porcelain-like
Vessels of desire.
Muscle tightens under skin, defining
Halted passion, sensual urges, and plasma thirst.
Blood pumps into veins, temperature is in flux,
Perceptions re-imagined, recollecting interests.
She sees his primal fierce eyes, sculpted body
Under a new light. A canvas to etch her
Screams in with red polish. Painful,
Pleasurable thoughts invade, creating
Memory before action.
He smells her fragrance, he feels her breaking
Resolve submitting to him. The chemistry of his
Anatomy pulling, swimming, clawing at each
Fiber of her being. Her skin’s cold and moist,
His, warm banana nut bread.
First embraces, friction, resistance, motions
In oceans of soaked sheets. Powerful
Contractions, condensation on windows,
Perspiration dripping beads over
Limbs. Forcing self upon self is
Maddening, to conceive, to imagine
Hard sounding drums pounding
Soft harmonic beats into one
Human melody.
Exhaustion, the wasteland of battle,
Blood and lipstick swirling eyeliner into
War paint. Carcasses lay strewn, scars
Ridden across back and thigh.
Tears fall down cheeks out of pure
Joy and affirmation of lust.
May I buy you another?
The best choice of words
Made a dream come true
For whom?
Freedom is a birthright—
No one has the right
To tread on anyone’s foot
On the pretext
Of one’s own freedom.
Everyone has the freedom
To punch the air
Or swing one’s hand,
But that hand must
Stop short of others.
Like the kite we fly,
Freedom is conditional.
Kite flyers fight
To bring down
One another’s kite.
The powdered glass
On the twine
Sharpens the twine
To sever the kite
At the point of contact
Both try to cut off
The other's kite
By pulling the twine
Or by releasing more twine
To create friction
Finally, the winner
Severs the kite
Of the loser
And the severed kite
Glides down to the ground
Now, whose freedom
Is superior?
The one that is severed
And becomes absolutely free
But what if it falls to the ground?
Or, the one that is still
Tied to the twine,
The spool, and the kite flyer
But soars higher and higher
Into the sky?
Listen to my words and desire me my sun-ripened lady
For I will be as magniloquent and indiscreet
as a biblical poet
The sculpting of your Siamese contour
pours into my empty cup like apricot brandy
I filled the night's chalice with knots of desire
and it satisfied me deeper than mere friction
Aphrodite has kissed your firm twins
As a cluster from the vineyards of Glen-Eden
on a sun-drenched September afternoon
Secretory perfumes from your pubic stubble
And gardenia from your thick locks
so fragrant I see their scent
I take them in with every sense engorged
SELAH
When I make you moan and frown
you stare vertically through closed eyes
Then drunkenly mutter, “I cum”
When I breach your lips, north and south in unison
we give birth to the child of incandescence
She has your raven eyes.
I look into them and I see the light of Aioue
Her aura is primal, fleeting, and beyond intoxication
We become one flesh in the eyes of the cosmos
I see you my love, my friend!
These words are meant for one who is brooding for loves
They who walk with heaven beneath their feet
live under the shade of authenticity
Walk with me under the cloak of shadows
CHAIYYA
At this moment your honeyed cream remains on my palate
When I showed you how we French kiss
yes those are the moments!
Bedeviled nectars are not devilish, but imbibed in the shade
Nay, they are turned rancid only by the manufactured light
that casts the shadow from our cloak
Therefore, no one shall judge our chamberings
When we are not together I wax
For me the duplicity is hard
but I cannot live without pleasures!
I savor the darkness as per the design of the ancients
who learned to love and to invent pleasures
They are familial ghosts from a region in my belly
and we commune
SELAH
The inclinations I have toward paramours
has been buried so deeply
that I cannot locate from whence they come
In the balance between propriety and abandon
I have chosen what is in front of me
I will be reminded of my choices
when we walk again
I don’t know if I love you
because I hate that word
Maybe someday I’ll invent a better one
My beautiful little doxy
I cannot nor would not sponge away
the scent of your existence from my mind
nor the music of your moans from my ears
They proposed stabilization
Friction from the augers
Rotation
Caused one to ponder
Would such affect
Those ah yonder
Then in perfect diction
He said it as a predict
If thee surface of this
Slate should pop
It will create a lot of
Rocks
And if these rocks should
Roll
No one. Would be in control
He rethought the matter
A solution was what he was after
Reaching down in his soul
He made sight of stories told
He'd use boulders as a buffer
We're the stones to roll
Nothing would suffer
Everyone loved his plan
They stopped by to give him
A hand
They proposed using an auger to drill holes to
Plant trees crack the mountain side below the
Surface. They also bored holes and filled them
With cement to instantly began the process.
It surely must be a cinch...
To scratch that type of itch,
Good luck getting rich,
When your niche keeps you poor
Then you come back for more,
Like a whore who gets bored
When someone evens the score
Take the window or door,
Swim all the way to the shore
Cause these ships going down
There are many who would drown
At the sound of a pounding
When working on grounding
The grit out of some wit
That just wants to get fit
To be able to sit
Avoiding the tit that bounced the writ
That was served as deserved
In a blur that was totally just the rust
That only fell but smelled funny
Like it was the good
Before we all got sick
You ing dick
You get the gist
When I miss the list
That I would kiss
Before making a fist
At all of this
It is far for bliss to drift amidst
What isn't but is
More than a Lyft
But a gift
To be not in a tiff
Yet some gif
Would uplift the next out of line hiss
As a new reality stick
To the target you hit
Still feel the need for a fix
Are NOT with whatever it is
It is totally not funny and not any of my biz
Just deal with it
That is my simple wish
Then add on doing the dishes
There is a list
BTW I brought home some fish
I caught
NOT
I pissed
In the pond
Everything went oh way so wrong
So, I started smoking a bong
To get along with the throng
Of those along for the twist
At the end
Where we all eat fried gull
That would risk
Dropping the ball
As it lifts
One more time just to fly
Instead of getting that bite
That just might start the addiction again
With more friction for the fiction
That a lot of us are forced to listen
When the whipping
Gets flipping so metaphorical
Then we find we have grit
And the rest does NOT have to be written
Forbidden
Yet to be forgiven
Still not hidden
From the ridden
Perplexed by riddles
Accompanied by giggles
It's so tasted the rainbow sort of gay
Eat your skittles enjoy the day
This is cray
Speak
I’m going to blaze across your sky
In blinding light
My body a celestial meteorite
Falling from the heavens
Pulled in by the gravity of your passion
Burning my way through the atmosphere of your essence
Escalating friction of your atoms against mine
Sparks flying
Temperatures rising to the inevitable climax
No way to stop this falling star of my love
This red hot comet of desire
As I blaze through you dreams and reality, fantasy and destiny
Hurtling at break neck speed as I incinerate my way
Through..........everything
Blazing, flaming, flaring, combusting
Till the final explosion
In the earth shattering impact of your embrace....
My voyage of passion.......complete
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I’d like too invite all to be my guest
a dine of mindfulness and rhyme digest
a week of conflict now victory blessed
standing united to silence a pest
Since the last time you heard from me I was banned again
ran my mouth and pen and stand condemned
taking a time out as the site suspended
yet always polite to poets I’ve befriended
In my lifetime of few consistences
a sucker for trouble
not designed for resistance
never stuck in a bubble
don’t run nor crumble
my back’s up I stand tall
I’m one for the rumble
not decided but natural
I’m an alpha with a non fictional reaction
I can’t stray from friction I give it back to ‘em
They flint
I flame
retardants
don’t reign
Even with intense insistence I’m risky
back and forth witty hits get me frisky
I’m Jack Daniels confrontation’s whiskey
and as it ascends force
whistling me wolf
I submit my thoughts
with all above board
but as the war gets me bored
within my core recycled and restored
enemy amo pours out below par
firing missiles I go to far
through lost remorse
this one track horse
gallops the course
with overwhelming force
only to fail care and I fall where I fell before
Standing up squarely
Cus nobody scares me
then punished unfairly
cus I ain’t no fairy
Deemed out of line
as I mouth my mind
blow for blow with swines
or write down rhymes
I’ve got one finger for sign language
knowing 5 fold in flight damage
You’re not the first to run me down
I’m not one to get the boys around
“I know a lot of people” not my threat
get me vexed I come direct
Others rely on their made up crew
not me though mate I come straight for you
One minute you’re coming calling me chump
the next minute running Forest Gump
I’ve never experienced intimidated slumps
the altercation ignition leads me to jump
start the motor ticks, over being a victim
insults thrown deflect don’t sink in
get thrown back with hurt inflicting
stand his ground does Nick Trim
Will call us HMS Victory and him the birds eye on a French deck,
one cannon ball later he’s drenched in a shipwreck
So thanks to the soupers standing with me,
the victory with us not he,
again I say soupers standing with me
are the ones standing victoriously
Where are Your Rubies?
Win with your cherubim vodka, and defy all,
Seek the conversations within the smokes,
Predicate glossy lips for romance and ball,
Out with serviant regulation’s fix it jokes.
Coin the dignity and fight the right, nimbly,
Fret a glance to shelve matrix B as red,
Periscope expectation as denounced simply,
For infinite returns bevelling the written said.
Where the vehicle, what the production?
The lit removes its ignited mechanism,
To beam the joules within the friction,
Between shaves of mountainous schism.
Rhoda Monihan