Long Ravishingly Poems
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I saw her walking past me as if gliding in a mystic air of illusion, stealing my senses
like a thief in the night… reason I beg you, leave me not please!
Unlike my words, her body was properly structured in a magnitude of fluorescence,
I was afraid to approach her because of fear of getting burned, as she ravishingly
radiated heat in degrees beyond my years of studying, a diploma couldn’t have given me the
honours to become a master at this game called… love… is love just a game?
If so then playing it with her I’m sure to lose coz you see, she has mastered the game
If I hadn’t met her I would have wished for things to stay the same.
But the only thing at stake is my heart.
From her I should be getting further apart,
I gazed at her not saying a word; our eyes meet and lock,
But I still find myself unable to talk.
Could this be love at first sight or is this just another infatuation?
Feelings of lust developing within me, but how do I tell that we share the same chemistry?
Fear in my mind was inspired by fear of rejection
Words of how I truly feel about her lacks projection.
I desperately need time to adjust to the situation,
To help me deal with this untimely infatuation,
Which came too soon…
Soon, as I stare up to the moon, I realise that I’m just a fool,
No need to play it cool, wasted chances with her got me in a foul mood.
Depression settles in worse than a salted wound,
In solitary, my room provides such a comfy atmosphere
But thoughts of her bring memories and the experience is like rain under the bridge.
Contemplating a second chance is irrelevant,
Will I ever see her again? – Insignificant.
I no longer make sense because she stole my senses,
leaving me feeling senseless.
I had walked away like a coward, now I’m wondering at what might have been.
Even though I put up a happy face and pretend that everything’s okay,
For lacking courage to stand my ground, this is the price I pay.
Indeed it turned out to be very costly,
And in truth she was killing me softly.
Touched, Near the Danger Zone
The sun tanned your bod like a toaster
my heart bounced like a roller-coaster
each luscious curve drew me deeply in
my mind smoked in delicious sexual sin
The bikini left so, so little to imagine
raced my motor like a racecar engine
strips so like little racing stripes
reveling in all almost naked types
When you flipped like a hot pancake
I saw nothing curvy was at all fake
Sweet mountains rose to great my eyes
I prayed you not hear my lustful cries
Then you smiled so sex starved at me
I knew Cupid dared to answer my plea
a question you asked stilled my heart
will you oil my back, can you start
Thunderstruck , I managed a weak yes
I am good at it, I am the very best
my hands shook as I touched that bod
I felt something and it was not a rod
Gentle touch just near the danger zone
you mumbled out a sweet little groan
daring more I stroked the inner thigh
soon lust had us both so very high
Date made for that beautiful June night
you appeared a ravishingly sexy sight
a quick dinner we both so quickly fled
on our minds were escapades in a hot bed
Next morn I saw a bod that knocked me out
woke my queen with a rip roaring shout
let's go once again just for good measure
gotta have some more of that sweet treasure
Robert J. Lindley
08/17/1977
Wrote this account of how I met Rochelle decades ago,
we dated for 5 bliss filled months. She moved back to Cali
to pursue a modeling careerWhile I continued on in my
pagan ways. That gal was a peach! She sent me her address a
few weeks later and asked me to move there. I declined to
leave my hunting grounds, friends and family . Never heard
from her or about her ever again.
That was life in my twenties.
Huddled among massive rocks,
at the bottom of a barren cliff,
breathing in the strongest aroma of jasmines,
watching hordes of seagulls hover over an abandoned ship;
pensively and attentively spending peaceful times by calm river,
geese see me and slowly approach me to share some of this enthralling wander!
The flow of the river is constantly intriguing,
sometimes slow, other times rushing in the manner of a surge,
making the passing barges resemble timber floating
to their unknown destination, unless the currents change
and they will be crashing on the sandy blanks to dry out and decay;
the same fate awaits the fowls when their bodies become old and die!
Rare beauty I ravishingly behold while my attention is not swayed,
the thickness of the trees won't let the eyes penetrate their wilderness beyond,
only the restless ravens know their habitat and venture themselves in those woods;
I am groped by their mystery, but I dare not enter into the untamed animal' world,
as the woodpeckers continue making their noises to scare away any possible predators...
while moans of creatures are heard: are they attacked by wild dogs, or ferocious wolves?
The glow of the descending sun diminishes and a chill pervades my body,
my Windbreaker is the perfect attire to wear, and not make me feel the breeze's coolness;
the darker colors appearing above give indication of the arrival of a spectacular sunset,
those hues change brightness, and somehow seem to vanish as clouds impose their treat...
a storm wind coming, or is nature imitating our human nature to take control of destiny,
to spoil my peaceful times by this calm river...shouldn't I be angered by their hostility?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Each day that I get up and greet the new dawn
Posing at the mirror,first..to see what changes have been going on
My eyes cannot look at what lies before me
55'waist on a 5ft 7 frame
These hands reach into the old treasure chest in the closet
I open it up and there before me is
A Superman comic(circa 1986-A CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTH crossover)
12 vhs tapes of STAR TREK,the original series(courtesy of Paramount Pictures)
An E.T.The ExtraTerrestial costume that mom made for me
and of course,the most treasured possession of all:
A FRUIT-OF-THE-LOOM jockey short that I wore throughout Freshman and
Sophomore year in High School
The DIRTY jokes that my Classmen used to tell
Old and disgusting chewing gum sticking to the toilet bowl with this note:
BERNIE&CHRISTINE,SITTING UP ON THAT TREE..K.I.S.S.I.N.G.
I hold up that smelly jockey garment from long ago to my expanding waist
Now I do know WHEN and WHERE the years did go
too much partying with the cubicle nerds
PAPA GINO'S and A&W root beer just lying around for some aging X'er to take
a bite and a gulp
Every night before I trot off to sleep,the hemorrhoids keep acting up
disturbing the many custard pie remnants that exhale from the behind
Mother told me that too much of that would be Dangerous,sickening,and unkind
I can't help it if I do not want to let go of my young appetite,as yet
Creatures from the old yearbook,Ravishingly young and wile
It brings forth a pleasant memory and before I am off to dreamland
This face offers up,one more juvenile smile,from yesteryear
GOOD NIGHT
Falling for you,
was like riding a roller coaster.
sweet, thrilling, and sometimes frighting.
When the ride is over,
i'm left, ravishingly searching for that feeling again.
But it's over, and so is the euphoria.
You were the one who inspired me
You were the one who kept me sober
I knew you would leave,
but i didn't expect it to be so soon,
You are my drug and you've left me in a pitch black room
locked,dark, and alone and you are the key.
And as i sit in this room,
I pray to some god that come back soon.
Every time i hear my phone, i hope that its you,
but all it ever is is a useless notification or two.
Yes, there are other guys out there
but you're the only one i want, and it hurts that you don't care.
Something about you, makes me feel so attached.
I want to know what you're doing
and what you're thinking,
I want to be there at your lowest lows when you're sinking
and pull you back to shore
and assure you that i'm yours
and that everything will be okay.
But you briskly pushed me away,
and now i'm the one drowning.
And your hand is the one pushing me under the water, ever so soundly.
And all i really hope is that you change your mind,
and pull me up and kiss me.
and tell me how much you've missed me,
and fill my empty heart up with pure bliss.
I may sound like a child,
but I've learned that at times like this, its best to let your soul go wild.
Form:
When Spring, Its New Symphony One's Pleading Soul Hears
When Spring, its velvet fingers sweeter music plays
New dawns gasping with sunlight streaming all around
Vanished, icy chills from somber winter days
Replaced by Nature's beauty and its living sounds
Life takes on a new bounce, heart a jubilant song
World opens up, its echoes crying out, "Let us live"
We that in this realm must battle to get along
And in hope of hopes, strive to love and act to give!
When Spring, its eager hands majestic music sends
Nights may bring blessings of hot romantic fevers
Life, Love, Harmony, Creation so softly blends
Dancing depths of beauty, makes us true believers!
When Spring, its new symphony one's pleading soul hears
We may live, leaving behind past sorrows and tears!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-22-2020
Sonnet, ( From A Walk In The Bright Woods On A Sweet New Morn )
Note:
Striving to leave doom and gloom behind, I wrote this new poem.
A poem born from a memory of a new Spring day back in 1977.
That Saturday morn while getting breakfast at a nearby restaurant,
I met a ravishingly beautiful lady and instantly fell in love.
Such bliss as one can never forget and later Fate's cruel hand
that brought that loss that forever burns as cries in midnight dreams
of a devastating loss that scars one's soul forever.
The poem expresses the beauty and joy of that first morn and both
of our deep loves of Nature and its many gifts.
Touch me with your eyes
Let them roam all over me
Staring at what they desire
Embers of your soul’s fire
Touch me with your eyes
Touch me with your smile
Lighting me with need
Validating my form
With a curl of praise
Promise of what is to come
Touch me with your smile
Touch me with your tongue
Your ambassador of love
Sent to foreign lands: my body
Let it tease me
Please me
Fill me
Thrill me
Representing you
And what you will do
Touch me with your tongue
Touch me with your words
Let them make love to my mind
An intercourse of flames
Working their way into the folds
Of where my desires lie
Dormant...still
Waiting to be found
Touch me with your words
Touch me with your thoughts
Turn them into hands
That caress
Ravishingly posses
Enslave to liberate
Able to satiate
Pain to sedate
Determined to consummate
My rebel needs
Touch me with your thoughts
Touch me with your heart
Spread it all over mine
Let them beat in time
Sweetest rhythm
Pulsating rhyme
Sublime
The thunder of love
The symphony of life
A exultant melody
Of ecstasy
Touch me with your heart
Touch me with your body
The beauty of your frame
A man's mission to claim
To drive in the stake
Marking ownership of me
Touch me with your body
Oh...resurrect me with your touch!
Touch me
TOUCH me
Touch ME
TOUCH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Touch me deep inside
Where my fantasy lies
Sleeping
A Sleeping Beauty
Waiting for your kiss of bliss
Touch me with your lips
Make me come
ALIVE!
Roya
Many are my favorite things,
but nothing is more exciting
that ravishingly beautiful sexy ladies:
those seen in a movie theater
who light up the wide screen under
the Califonia's palm trees swaying.
Marilyn Monroe was an exceptional beauty,
not to mention the elegant Audrey Hepburn,
who many times made my silly heart burn;
and what about Sophia Loren, the Italian sex-symbol,
who attracted men of all ages, and entertained them all,
right after World War II had devasted her beloved Italy?
Today there are more glamorous stars,
and Madonna is one of them for her fabulous
acting in "Evita"...and her, big blue eyes
captured the audiences as she brightly danced;
lots of folks thought she was lewd, but what other choice
did she have, if not rise to power and be admired?
Allow me to list some more sensational beauties:
Angeline Jolie with her dusky complexion and pretty eyes;
a powerful sexiness that woos audiences worldwide,
but is it her talent or sex appleal that people admire?
And finally, another gorgeous actress, July Roberts, who besides her stunning
looks, she was brilliant in, "Pretty Woman" and "My best Friend's Wedding."
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci
Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order
They could be heard across valleys with their screeching echo
Flailing above tree height they’d flock in their thousands - the Black Cockatoo
Like nature’s eclipse, they would descend in clouds; all great gangling wings
Flapping madly at each other, swaying this way and the other
A perch full of hysterics - oh ravishingly black
Black raucous baffling broils of beak n feathers and
Snapped off sticks and nuts that crack and pop from
Ancient giants tall
All crowded in crowns hanging and swinging and larking about
A jest from the nest, others cuddling n kissing
Fanning tail feathers – pretty
But now they fall, their numbers appal
Thrown out of their homes, death by starvation, another species lost
But who gives a toss…
A red tail feather once so common on the forest track
As we yearn for their call, the lone screeching echo
That haunts the valley floor
We no longer hear the vanquished
It’s only when they’ve vanished
Will we truly pray for these ebony eccentrics?
Of the Australian bush
28 August 2014