Short Oxytocin Poems

a kiss seals his fate
oxytocin through the roof...
prisoner of love  

Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Contest: Nothing But Love...

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The hurts you can't express
The love you cannot give up 
Tears are familiar, happiness a distant foe. 
Walking on tiptoe, pain stabbing through the muscle 
Endorphin's clash with oxytocin gentle might
Pain so vivid, hearts breaking to million pieces

Self love it is.......

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emergency room
on the top of the mountain
flashing lights screaming sirens
she is screaming
what is a lapas class
fluid in the blue veins
oxytocin
primi breach
i am praying
breathing in and out
we are pushing
we are delivered from
bondage our cords are cut

oct 1 2016
6.13 pm...

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After nine months of pregnancy she was admitted to the nearest hospital with no labor pain so artificial oxytocin was given but nothing transpired. Child laid in her womb position footling breech and finally took birth after caesarean. Baby was looking like a red apple and an ordinary female child with dreams to accomplish....

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Standing there
Arms outstretched
The haggard pasty washed up
Kewpie doll
Of a soon to be ex
Awaited his oxytocin fix

As the dutiful wench
Swallowed the stench
Of his distillery fermented fat
She thought 

This puts the retch in wretched

And that was that
A good sense of humour
Is only embraced so far



5.31.2020...

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Kiss me, kiss me
Till trilogy of chemicals, 
Dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin 
Cause liaison between
Physiology and cosmology 
Concrete and abstract
That unveils the unexplored world 
Between you and me,
The better half of the universe

Kiss me till bliss rolls down every vein 
And brings Genesis flood
To feel the rhythm of heaven 
In this electromagnetic body....

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Oh. My. God.
Harmonious ecstasy and 
oxytocin dance through 
every cell you've come into 
contact with.

Oh. My. God.
I never believed in God 
until you had me 
moaning prayers into 
the sky,

begging for sweet,
sinful salvation. Your 
tongue formulates its own
scriptures, and I am weak 
in the knees. 

Devour every drop of 
my innocence, my pleasure.
Speak to me in tongues 
until I am worshiping the sky.
Oh. My. God....

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She's never loved broken love poems,
but now she writes them.
She's always feared swollen heads and broken tones,
yet now she finds she fights them.
Despite her mother's devotion,
she's forgotten the taste of oxytocin -
broken bonds within the unspoken, spoken.
Now emotion runs frozen
underneath hollow motions.
These days she spends her time playing theologian.
Here's my question:
No one cares to know someone like that,
do they?...

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