I like the way you touch my body.
There's no way I can deny it.
You complete me in so many ways.
You have this body of mines in such a maze.
Taste me here, lick me there.
You have this body of mines wet everywhere.
I feel chills down my spine.
You lay me on my back and let me unwind.
This body of mine is feeling so gracious.
You take this body of mine on a trip of Sexual Sensation.
Reality seems to be drawing near,
and for some I can't help but feel as if I'm being overcome by
an incomprehensible fear.
I try to recall a memory of sovereignty,
but every time I try, it's as if I'm committing a felony.
George walked by us neighbors one night.
Our husbands were shocked at the sight,
for this uncouth dude
was lewd, crude, and nude.
We wives tried to hide our delight.
The angry men yelled, “Hey, you freak!"
Oblivious, George didn't speak.
He stared straight ahead
then went home to bed.
He'd stroll again, bare, the next week.
The problem, recalls Dr. Dover,
was BAD but, soon afterwards, over.
Doc watched George and found
him walking around
asleep, so some pills cured this rover.
The neighborhood men are quite glad
no naked man’s making them mad.
While breathing a sigh,
relieved, they ask why
we wives have just lately seemed sad.
Night is pending.
Not even the most anxious
can avoid time.
Day after day I dread the
the death of nothing
that the night spawns.
The TV becomes my
best friend~
a window of light
in the abyss.
Old TV shows
are brighter than
the new.
Tonight I choose
The Andy Griffith Show.
I put my earphones in,
and turn the volume down
(on the off chance
sleep embraces me)
and I embrace my fate.
I watch.
It's strange.
I feel a peculiar force
tugging at the corners
of my mouth.
The opposite of gravity.
A sensation that pulls
upward.
I had forgotten the feeling.
I laugh inside,
but for a different reason
than my body is currently
reacting to.
It seems even the most
sleep-deprived,
fear stricken
low in life
sickos
can't keep themselves
from smiling at
the infamous
Don Knotts
Checked it flag
A stand out soapbox
All in grey
Challenger in a race
Speed of competitors
It was fast like a Greyhound Dog
Grey color gets attention
Had to mention
Grey soapbox named “ROADHOG”
As the wheels accelerated more and more
It was definite that the soapbox was going to even the score
Faster Faster and Faster
Maneuvering here and there
The soapbox was beyond compare
Ahead of its time
Throughout the soapbox race
Every competitor was in a chase
Winner to be
A let see
Who will cross the finish line?
You guessed it, the Roadhog being the grey soapbox
Cheers and roars
Undefeated challenger
Winner took all
Soapbox winner call.
Sage moose families
journeying nature’s beauty,
streaming peaceful life:-
Powerful, iconic elk,
Canvassing serenity:-
fancy green fresh smell
of the pure virgin forests
pure scent paradise
On certain rainy afternoons
I smell anamnestic perfumes
love... axiom or incarnation!
My opinion is an option
Their preferences a mandate
Our midpoint an ambiguity
The victory tastes bitter
Only the failure feels better
I then call it an intriguing skin
They name it an awkward scene
The softer tissues on touch
An awful sensation in view
Hearing the rooster roaring
We all deserve no contempt
By integral effort attainable
For every purpose one intends
On the prowess one and all have
Leading all of us complacent
Afterwards evolves serial concerns
The triumph is like a strong poison
What this conquest by me?
The defeat is a solid medicine
Why should I surrender?
I ultimately subdue their sensations
As they intimately soothe my tissues
We share the devotion, not hostility
We act empathic without negligence
And the rooster keeps roaring
is there a little premeditation ~ to scratch an irritation
or a bit of an itch ~ to tackle a rash without hesitation
said a flea to a hive ~ it’s only my lousy interpretation
By
David Kavanagh
pink paragon
renders no features;
a buoyant olive
shouldered above florid wings.
golden halo, open ring.
nature’s schmooze, profound.
deeply saturated midnight
in the labyrinth of the deep.
peacock blush of fancied feathers.
the heart beats
a magnanimous red,
emphatically so,
with corona seeds
like rays of the sun.
Max’s angel in surround sensation
would overwhelm the flesh.
the scent of peak, kaleidoscopic climax, meridian elocution -
an euphoric Eden.
Winter time... Warm clothes, wine, fireplace, fondue, snuglle, love and poetry !
for his affecting music
Beethoven did not hear applause
but he felt enthusiastic clapping hands
PS Beethoven was deaf since childhood
Climb mountains without tiring
Run miles and going beyond
just close your eyes and live loving
SENSATION
random
bubble shaped
peeping
pictorial
expressions
so
tantilising
a
reflected
sense
in
delicate
depths
of
highlights
so
dazzling
midst
possibilities
revealed
in
moody
luminosity
of
picturesque
possibilities
delicately
scaled-down
in
the
dramatic
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