Long Indulges Poems
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Said my eyes
Your picture has a vibe
that -
holds me,
rolls me,
rocks me,
tease me,
infatuates me,
indulges me,
hair raising and self touching .
Get your mind out of the gutter.
I am just talking about
touching my own arms, chest and yes my tummy.
I just love the tingling and trembling.
The rest can wait.
But the truth is I don't know how long
since my shameful mind lingers so much.
I am now walking, eating, sleeping, ,dreaming,
I mean everything with an image of a photograph's effect.
You are something girl.
just don't wait till I self destruct.
© Al. Juman The "said" Poet 7/3/2016
Maestro bows, a motion lulls thunder,
ovations a period of heeling, a clap
diverts a few, then attends silence.
A typical cough failed its challenge,
disturbed section promptly affects
a hall--indulges the jittery few. An
abrupt tapping expresses with
distinction and a Grandeur Hall
transcends towards the respective
measures that virtuous it's due.
His first appearance in the luxurious
auditorium, covetousness befell the
many, save one. Maestro entranced
a curve amidst a grand hall, fulfilling
hopes of men who are dropping jaws
and the prim-n-proper ever-widening
pupils for cosmetics lost effects.
As the thickness of the drape-enriched
velour, entrenched symphonic, designer
concertos, intricate waltzes, filament of
operettas--richly curtained memories
bliss.
Maestro's music world is the gist of his
being. To suggest other worlds, why
bother, it's just the world of music, and
that's the end of it. It's not a peculiarity
when one's grasp of the world is finite
and specific, that's what defines him.
I certainly don't want to be in a spot
when I'm in a surgical room, having my
heart worked on and standing there in
surgeon's clothes is the local dog catcher.
There are no hidden agendas. His life is
an open book. Life can be much simpler
if there were more people like Maestro
when he made up his mind it be so,
assuring his notoriety and, without a
doubt, a place for his name in the annals
of music history.
I miss when he calls me duchess
I miss when he screams out Bambi
I miss when he softly says babe
I miss when he whispers babim
I miss when they swing kisses on my ears then my neck slightly moves to have me say I miss all of you.
the reason I left I remember not.
but deep in my heart I know you all tried your best to put a smile on my face.
it's just one man standing
it's more tiring cos I have no one to Lean on when he chooses work over me.
yeah! he's mad at me.
why?
because the only spare time he has to see me, I create work for myself .
it doesn't make me happy
it doesn't mean I don't miss him as much,
it means if he’s always busy during weekdays.
I get busy too during weekends.
so we are both busy and cannot make love.
when he's free I’m not
and when I am, he's not.
definitely not my fault.
if he cannot create time to see me during weekdays because of his work.
I just have to make myself busy here,
even though I have nothing doing.
hello! am busy sleeping.
it shouldn't seem like I’m the only one begging to see.
I’m not the only one in the ship.
I don't give a damn...
the part that would get me so crazy is when we fail to see,
and I head back to school, then he indulges in any immoral act and tries to justify himself by saying.
"when I needed you, you weren't they"
Then I'll ask him, so you created time to F.. k a pussy that's not mine?
That's it... it's over.
Form:
I sat,mind wondering into depths
The flames flicker before me
Her beauty fiery hot long red
Her soul deep in emotions flourish
Love,is it reality or feeling
Attraction of such enticing beauty
I am weakened in heart
She draws me nigh her curves
I feel her passion within darkness
Love indulges her desires burn
Her smile desirable, eyes telling
What is it to love such a woman
His wildest dreams come true
For he has forgot how to love
But he remembers a woman's love
Scent of her essence he hungers
To feel her breathe upon his chest
Where be love except thou heart
That I hold you even in close eyes
Except my soul I live i cherish
Even God had eye for beauty
Yours, I am blessed in heart ??
they would dice many a chive
by management me from da dive
apartments in hatfield in close proximity
to the bloody sorry fate
oof a von nee gutt
thar slaughter house five.
mine eyes saw gore
and remained fixated
orbital fixture
of poor creatures in a daze
sans reaction averting gaze
away from disgusting entrails
visible picture amidst the maze
of chutes and ladders
stepping on select
foursquare did raise
or lower (similar to an elevator)
but movable blocks
also went cross ways
oh, anyway, this reply
written by me - scott math u
passable poet tree - at most true
this email far ye to rue
these twisted sister strands
of pearl jammed zz topped
chromosomal strands being did hew
who only to five feet and ten inches grew
crafts, finesses,
indulges love of language
to prose from fingers flew
and writes poems
cawing all r e'en juiced
one angry emu
leaving her/his presents
custom made doo doo
per comprising a motley crue
of a family - pearl jammed color ague.
please rsvp asap via text
to me scott matthews my chosen ac/dc label
i.e. pleasure like rubbing against sable
create r hard woo n intimate scorpion fable
unless ja noah under me ma jib rush
like inxs o ruck kiss in tower o babe bull
by texting if willing, ready, eager and able
froom - - scotts matthew
who lives way off the mainline -
juiced about a few dirty dozen dancing deeds
done dirt cheap miles west of philadelphia,
and some ten miles east of king o prussia
pennsylvania who imagines your sultry skin
silkily soft as a lynx, pussy cat
rubbing against ma leg under da table.
Sent from my iPhone 456789
Frigid temperatures filled the square
Rigid opponents chilled the air
Deriding him a radical socialist
Unbridling the race to get him off a ballot list
The city was arm in arm, in protest daily
Whites, Blacks, Arab and Israeli
and what came up to all’s surprise
Mayor elect—Mamdani’s rise
Along came the 112th Mayor elect
Strong spent are the people who'd select
Lines stretched around doters
Awaiting hours were his voters
Indulges in a city reborn it’s bagels and lox
Sworn in over the subway station docks
Hand upon Islam’s holy text
A marvel of a man who’ll govern next
Swearing words of conviction and not of pity
I swear, to bolster and defend this dynamic city
Mayor Mamdani
promises New York City ~
a hopeful journey
New Year's Day
1/1/26
My fragility.
It’s a dispute of the unborn.
Sometimes I feel my loathe curling into the caves of my doting delicacy.
Sometimes I feel my pondering breath, stifled under the world’s strangling oxygen.
Sometimes I feel my security solace itself through the brittle tremble of my palms.
The mercy enchants me.
The relentless, ceaseless yearn of every man, inhaling my infirmity; a futile faith to fuel a defective ego.
The persistent, unyielding ruthlessness of every man, swallowing my hallucinated plea for the shelter of their calloused.
The obstinate, treasured haunt of every man, consuming my crumble; a famine to a fuelled, faux masculinity.
The egocentric proposal of a succoured sanctuary igniting my flesh in a hatred so potent; I cannot help but receive.
I cannot help but accept the ascending high of a haven so temporary, it gratifies the salves of my supplicatory wounds.
Is this what it has come to?
The reflection of the glass indulges at my bare bequest of my rupture.
The relics of my DNA question my competence for an ancestry demolition.
The throttled atoms of my making flourish onto the endless, violent anguish for the transgression of my dignity.
And the inevitability of my reality finally consumes the romanticisation of my presence.
I am fragile.
A mother holds her infant to her breast,
sucking safely; its fears are laid to rest.
A primal link bonding mother and child;
a sharing of hearts, instinctive and wild.
A soldier huddles in the stench of death,
determined to fight to his final breath.
Lives rely on his bravery today,
and despite his fears, he's resigned to stay.
A dad encourages his toddler son,
holding his hands till his first step is won.
With his arms outstretched, he coaches him on
as he waddles forth, inhibitions gone.
A virgin bride feeling anxious inside,
indulges temptations she's long denied.
While in their bed, she surrenders her will
to her husband and love's intimate thrill.
A common thread stitches these souls in place:
an ethereal bond; time can't erase.
Believe what you will on matters discussed:
Humanity's heart has evolved through trust.
A New Life
When a baby is born, it's like a fresh spring day
Being a healthy one is what all parents pray
The pain and struggle a mother indulges
With bigger breast and stomach that bulges
Cute as a button when they arrive
The kicking, the moving, the feeling inside
Men are clueless of all the pain, I'm sure
They have no clue what women endure
Seeing the little hands and the little people feet
The very first look is a mother's best treat
Cuddle the little one against her chest
Feeding with milk from mothers breast
Men take notice of your beautiful wife
Who just created a beautiful life
Hold them and hug them but not too tight
Close to you, the feeling is right
Hold the tiny hands rub their little feet
Promise your love your promise to keep
Mother and child a beautiful sight
Not looking forward to the restless nights
A child being born is a feeling of spring
To create a new life is a lovely thing.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
*Image of Royal Alberts by Antiques And Teacups.
Drinking a Cup of Tea
An outing drizzling visits two,
walking past a depot.
Dashing through the rain they withdrew,
in a dressed gazebo.
Fine Albert's Country Rose teacups,
set on top matching plates.
Buttered toast and biscuit warmups,
a quaint morning translates.
Orange pekoe redolent blends,
blissful sip indulges,
chews, nibbles, and napkin wipe trends,
engaging divulges.
Taste spirits chatter that transcends,
ere squall is forgotten,
decency trades a storm extends,
a spot of tea brought in.
2023 February 04