God Lust Poems

Hills & Crosses

I hung myself on a cross
To atone for my works
An attempt on my soul 
To rid him off of his unwholesomeness 
To cut...

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lustful addiction is the sole cause ~
of why stuporous soul defies God’s laws...

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Lord, save this unholy Baptist!?
     Her lactation, like mother's juice,
slakes thirsty tongues with creamy gist.
     To flush...

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God search the game
lust needs taming
soul’s name is love...

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Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch

“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga

Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left...

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Shouldn't love will be with us until we die 
tenderly embraced or apart for a silly lie?
To be one soul and be truly inseparable,
trust in...

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When youth is so vibrant and sets us aglow,
and no words are mentioned through sorrow:
we are the seekers of wild adventures,
pushing hard beyond all boundaries!

In...

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What good is love, when guys and girls are whores?
     What use are we, when all is the libido?
Good girls on...

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Lust,
the phantom hand
that clipped our wings,
cracks a smile
as we tumble
like raindrops
cascading through
blankets of nimbostratus clouds,
exiled to this rugged
stone laden labyrinth

We were soaring eagles
galloping across the...

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~Silence
that dank isolation 
cold and wandering dog 
restless lurks a slow and sullen trod 
through mad emptiness
drunken nooks of unreachable sorrow soften   

~The...

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In glamor-light of sunset
a new crowd of cumulus clouds arrive
and revive a sepia sky-scene—
unworldly woolgatherers gather
spinning fantasy fluff into quixotic yarns
of debutantes dancing with honeymoon...

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Clutching the moment 
Before yesterday became yesterday,
The promise,
Before he pledged his love to me,
The colors,
Before autumn waltzed away, 
Swaying in shadows of soft snowfall,
Breathing white,...

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I come here as to a temple
An old-fashioned thing
Before Lisa, Joe, Paula, Jen
I condemn false gods of pain
Foul gods foretold in That Day
When coupling will...

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I frolic not in the center of your irised eye
No more do I wander the field of pale above the belt of your jeans
My hand...

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Out of the window flew dreams I once owned,
viewed by my presence with a wistful eye,
nurturing a hope, that they’d return honed,
as transcendental bliss, that...

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