I have drunk my death in your eyes,
and now my thirst is sated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the river, sated now,
sighs
through broken willow bones
Uh huh
Jambalaya
Uh oh
Crawdad gumbo
That spice
It’s Cajun nice
Girl there
With long blonde hair
She’s flame
and can’t be tamed
Legs long
Bayou beat song
So nice
Red beans and rice
Real sweet
With pepper heat
Hot day
Shrimp etouffee
So real
She makes me feel
Her eyes
Beautiful lies
Much more
Oh I adore
Love taste
Rush passion’s haste
Salt sweet
Such tender meat
De-sire
Swamp born fire
Hunger
Never sated
Give me
What she plated
Eat till
I’m full to burst
Need her
A voodoo curse
Ardor abated
Bodies both
Collapse
Damp
Erotic
Fulfillment
Gains giddy
High
Intense
Kiss keepers
Lingering
Melting moves
Nestle Narvana
Optimal
Passionate
Release
Sated
Touch
Unleashes
Verve vapor
Whispers wanting
Xanadu
Zees
desires were sated
love fades but memories don't ~
whispers on silk sheets
We're born-we live
in
youthful, perfumed arrogance-
through folly we hopefully gain
wisdom
We engage- we retreat- we age
that's the nature of things
the parties and gatherings
shrinking
becoming few and far between.
Time grasps the coattails of speed
weddings-worry-wakes
we're happy-we grieve
in between
friends come and go-
misunderstandings
falling outs and fade away(s)
days sprint by night the same
children and loves drift away
like mad stars in the night
suddenly we're thrust into...
old age
Where all blessings
and storms coalesce
then come to pass
just two battered birds remain
atop a cold mountain stone
sated in storms of silence,
For the old, the end
is not frightening
they've lived life
they're ready for the next life.
time becomes mind
mind becomes time
eternity entwined
within their stardust they'll
find
all equations revealed
God is a spiral of space and time
a constant
in the speed of their light
and always will be-
lazy, long afternoon
preening sphinx-like
catches a stray scent
aha! dinner!...
stealth-creep
agonizingly slow,
'til, target in sight
she springs...
afterward, sated
lightly licks
the corners
of her whiskers
curls back into
her no-hammock
My auspicious Holiday Muse,
it has a hunger pang...
A pen which merrily sings of words,
joyously written in the heart
Honored friends and guests
invited freely
to a feast of thoughts
Etiquette tableware articulation
is succulently presented:
Romantic spooning
lovingly receives
a lip passion dipped
extra helping
Fork tongue behavior
gracefully parse admonished ...
Moist apology napkins passed
hand-to-hand, are sure to
both give-and-take receive
a double blessing portion
Rational wit is the knife
that cuts this well-deserved,
bountiful ponder platter
Tasteful thoughts are worth
twice returning for
All are consumed by fiery debate:
Enlightened rumination slow roasting
on an elevated, rotating spit
The more flame exposed,
the more tender
the meat of the conversation get
The hearth of the heart
warmly contemplate
delectable morsels well reasoned
Toasts of love are ambrosia divine,
as is the
meditative digestion silence time
Pen sated is about the gut gist of it
Just deserts for everyone,
I do ink insist
My heart sought love with a hunger never sated,
dreamt of it with a thirst cupid never fully aided
and a fervidness of longing no embrace abated.
Perpetual disquietude pooled sadness in my heart
where ashes drowned when my dreams burnt down.
Then came you with such masculine effervescence
my romantic, passionate dreams eagerly renewed.
My willingness and lovingness thrilled to be wooed
by the sheer vehemence that is charismatic you.
Your gaze held an intense, veneration persuasion
and your lustiness was buffed in brazen perfection.
Your endearing love became my safe, cocooned haven.
Whether you tenderly or intensely touch me to possess,
you relay amorousness and reverence in one, same caress.
With you, in romantic paradise, I lovingly, joyously reside.
The beating in your chest is where my sun rises and sets.
Precious words
That now seem absurd
Love anticipated
That is now forever sated
Being together
That is now lost forever
Endless tomorrows
That now fade and are gone.
© Paul Warren Poetry
SATED PROSE
when I had no roof
I made you my floor
when I crawled
you came to my
rescue through
my sky door
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
when I had no eyes
I listened to you
when I had no ears
you talked me through
stitched up my wounds
with music to sooth
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
when I had no mind
you gave me yours
when I had no tears
left to cry you
painted a well
in my heart of
sated prose
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
© Kim van Breda—1 May 2016
Scents of love hover and linger
entwined with the autumn wind
long past the morning chill
wrapping me in your comfort and warmth
a taste of honey remains
planted on my once moist lips
the sun seems to be shining a bit brighter
painting a perfect picture on the old fish pond
where a statuesque swan silently swims
light white puffy clouds blow gently by
as I whistle a love song
and gaze into the vast blue sky
I daydream of holding your hand
and of the times
The times we danced
barefoot in fields of daisies
chasing butterflies and dreams
You reaching out to touch my face
our never ending embrace
Laying out, two joined souls
under the moon and stars
wishing that time stood still
owning the night, making it ours
Special memories resonate of our start
as love songs play from my sated heart
The look bestowed upon me makes me yearn
A smile that speaks of favored pleasures near
You blow upon the embers make them burn
Shut out the world; enclose me in your sphere
I feel within your arms the burning urge
To claim and make me yours as captive one
Your raw desire now with mine does merge
Your searing hands defy the blazing sun
Scorched in the flame of your inferno’s heat
I moan your name as soul and body melt
Hands clutch and twist the damp and crumpled sheet
As hungry lovers we the rapture felt
A cooling breeze from open window seeps
As sated love once more in dreamland sleeps
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Song of Solomong 2: 5 - 7
Strengthen me with raisins,
refresh me with apples,
for I am faint with love.
6 His left arm is under my head,
and his right arm embraces me.
7 Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you
by the gazelles and by the does of the field:
Do not arouse or awaken love
until it so desires.
Sitting by his burned fire logs red embers glow and morph into visual stimulus.
Wolfman is sated on venison and has meat hung for jerky in his log home.
Wolfman is pleased with his skill in hunting and survival in the wilderness.
If his buddies could see him now....what they must think?!
The artist sketches, draws or paints;
The chef cooks up a storm.
The singer practices the scales,
Preparing to perform.
The dancer limbers up and moves
According to the beat.
The athlete hits the gym so he
Is ready to compete.
The actor memorizes lines
‘Til he knows every word.
The barkeep makes martinis,
Sometimes shaken, sometimes stirred.
The politician plans his speech;
The teacher grades a test.
The stripper bumps and grinds until
She’s practically undressed.
We all do what we’ve gotta do
To feed our appetite;
And some of us, including me,
Get sated when we write.
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