Short Massaged Poems

Tiny legs working.
Wonderful massage technique.
Pleasure undescribed....

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Written by Gail DeBole on March 16, 2020

There once was a kitty named Kelly 
Who watched his shows on the telly. 
When someone massaged his ears 
Kelly’s purr became clear 
And he became one cheerful felly....

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The grasses massaged our feet
Till the hissers crawled beneath
Such a boastful way to greet.
The darkness reigned with silence
Till the stingers made an entrance
Such a pompous way to dance.
It's about time we re-establish our dominance...

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Listen to poem:

*Image of Making Kalua Pig by Hawaii Luaus

Kalua Pig Luau

Hawaiian salt massaged pork 
drawn from an "imu"--
a hot rocks pit ere covered.
Succulent pulled-pork
tenderly yielding
juice-dribbling
bliss.

2022 May 31
*1st Place*
Whats Cooking on the Grill this Summer? Contest
~~M. L. Kiser: Judged 2022 August 12

*HMS: 7,5,7,5,5,3,1....

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various directions halt themselves
after the day is done
my temples are massaged and i 
remember why i chose you
you cut off the lamp and whisper
in my ear to relax...not "try"
when i do, you go deeper into
my stresses until you reach the eye
i look at you and wonder how you make
it so easy and free
it is because you just do, and i rejoice
and give Thanks and Praise that you
chose me....no other Moment could be Better.......

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Like clay in my hand, I held a frown...
                            Massaged it slowly till the edges were round...
                             The warmth of my fingers softened the feel...
                         Then I kissed it slowly as the smile became real...
                         The closer I held it ,the more it whispered today...
                      Words of love it spoke , as the frown whithered away......

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A gentle wind combs the long tresses 
of peppercorn trees and brings
a sense of ease, the soft stroking
of a morning to slowly awaken
drowsy souls from sleep.

I enter the space and take in
the quiet, feel a comfort in being
here, sink into a silky, way off drift 
as that which lulled the mind
when, as a child, my grandmother's 
fingers massaged my head
and at that moment
there was no other place
I wanted to be....

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"The years in my feet" he said

                    As 
                    I
Rubbed his feet back and forth 
                   As 
                   I 
massaged his feet with art deeper 
With art lower 
Feeling the strong pulses with the tips of my fingers
Feeling the cracks well defined and refined 
Inhaling and exhaling 
The air escaping the pores
Tension dwindling 
Energy flowing
Mind glowing
Muscles relaxing
Years reading
Miles teaching...

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Circumstance lost control;
Lost obstacles betrothed;
Whom am I to unanswer the call;
While on my stomach vividly I crawl;
Points of random denial;
Circumcised heart chiseled because of its hardness;
No longer harden massaged by the Father's  hands;
Beautifully conformed I am;
Shore beautiful 
I am moved in grace, present before His face;
A child of the Righteousness of Father God;
Endowed in His amazing grace;

2/25/24
Written words  by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024
...

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Me hugging you
as we lay in bed.
You kissing me
as I rest my head.

Your hands — so soft,
your finger tracing my face.
Your smile when we’d meet,
and your “I love you”
when you’d say it out loud.

The look on your face
when you made me smile,
the love you gave —
it made everything worthwhile.

The laugh you'd make
when I did something dumb.
The way you massaged
my feet when they went numb.

The feeling I got
when our eyes met...
The tears I fought
when you left....

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