PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I saw your white stained teeth

Through the black scruff

And tobacco-stench breath

You kissed me on the nose

In the back of your mother’s car

And slowly, I descended with grace

And after all these years all I have learned from you:

What is gone, may never asphyxiate 

I sat alone in the corner

The room around me was dark

Then you came and I saw your face

And behold there was a spark

A flame which flickered shyly

Afraid to cast a glow

But as you came to know me

The light began to show

It chased away the shadows

It danced upon my face

It turned my hole of solitude

Into a happy place

When you put your arm around me

It was like the thaw of spring

And the coldness slowly melted

As my heart began to sing

But soon the growing fondness

Turned into desire

And the spark that once had been so small

Became a raging fire

Now the flames grow ever higher

I think we’ve lost control

My body burns as the once small spark

Eats away my soul

Even the Seraphim did not hearken to your call.

But I did. I knew from the moment you came in with those beautiful saphires of eyes.

I knew, that you had a cryptic heart. A heart gaurded by the most fiendish of men.

With your soccer ball rush and declension of nouns. Oh, i knew.

I saw right through the facade you called "lust". Or perhaps it was a bloodlust?

Nevertheless I had seen you in the dark, swaying left and right.

With her freckles and all. Asynchronus hearts. 

In your white button down shirt, stained with the blood of Saint Sebastian.

This is not a landscape I would abuse.

Its uses are probably infinite,

marred only by the limits of my mind.

Time's good eye would cast a bleak, doubtful glance

towards me, or any man with torch held

at a lilting or menacing angle.

Here is but one, unforested canyon

that bulges over a bare horizon

and it calls to me by way of mirage;

shivering and quivering in tandem

with the day's heat, whilst modest twin peaks rise

intermittently with each chilling gust.

Thick and pallid reeds sway impotently,

protesting their anchorage and station.

They form a brilliant, patterned sheen when splayed

to greet the atmosphere's indifference.

The whole of these great, rolling plains fears light,

and silently requests a canopy

to form as a barrier against they

who would reap without reciprocity.

Its wish is granted by a great cocoon

dyed a gravel-borne grey and draped in swathes

across this bare beauty, now barred from sight.

And only in the trenches of midnight

can the silk be unraveled by the moon,

familiar as he is with this great tract.

Nothing, which is a lesson I've yet to commit to memory. Perhaps at my own behest.

And why should it? A kiss can be given to anyone, regardless of their age, gender, sexuality, background; all qualifying characteristics could not possibly interfere with the pressing of one's lips against another. A kiss holds only as much significance as is shared by the two participating in it. Does that mean it's childish, even ignorant, to hold the kiss to a standard of affection, or emotion? Is it wrong to hope that a kiss is implicit of something greater? To some, yes.

While what is thought to be "wrong" is ever-yielding to even the most basic scrutiny, one may feel that they ARE wrong whenever a compounded and derisive force is set against them. To that end, many work in tandem towards convincing their peers that, essentially, there is no such thing as love. In the same way that the existence of God can never be proven, many claim that "love" is simply a misnomer which stands in for one of many, more realistic possibilities, such as obsession, simple attraction, dependency, and so on. A man or woman, sure that love is a disingenuous construct, may even come to see the BELIEF in love, or the desire for it, to be of a sad and simple weakness.

If this is true, then what of the kiss? Where is it appropriate? What purpose does it serve other than as an inclination towards intercourse? Few scoff at intercourse, but many scoff at the kiss. Many more scoff at love entirely.

So, what of the kiss?

do androids dream of electric sheep the book i did read.. short story compared to the story of life.. i read the book of you and flip its pages quickly quickly my friend.. lover unknown person known.. lover known person unknown..

i read that book and as i do soft fingers trail across text.. the book of you has pages stiff and soft.. rough and smooth and at times i read it slowly too.. every puntuating mark a shock to my brain every train of thought rushes to my heart..

and i follow it chapter and verse to get to the heart of its creator.. i read the book of you and hope that it is not word for word as society has written..

but sometimes it is.. your passion plain to see becase you are used to being read by the average reader instead of hunger of imhotep.. child locked in a room trying to find the cure for a dying mothers cancer i sift through the words.. one on by one not missing a single stroke of the pen or drop of the ink pressed to print..

pages flip so fast they catch afire upon my fingertips..their heat fans out as i read on.. every day a few more pages but i know ill never be done because you are constantly changing the story.. new passions and mysteries write themselves in the book of your life.. new moments spill upon its pages..

im a book reader but let my fingers do the walking..

deep slow inhale
as scent of your sex burns upon the surface of my mind..
muscles tense and release as fingers grip thighs..
deep exhale
as passions twisted release winds its way across your pearl..
slow thrust of fleshy force into ur pleasure..
focus of self upon instant moment of release
deep within..
meditation as known guides path to unknown..
past doubts and mind
to the essence of the space between us
as we touch deep.

warm thighs wrapped around full submission to thievery.. gift of self wrapped in thrusts of emotion..

urgent hunger as life force funneled and shaped into the ram pounded tinto wall of distance between us as bodies meld together..

sensations rise to blur between lover and loved as boundaries of touch spread out into the ether to embrace me caress and know me as the warm winds know the blades of grass on a cold ground..

feel the dance of my kisses upon you as i seek warmth in the touch of your face there graceful curve as snuggle into warm lips as they wrap around the parts of me to be tasted and felt and listened to..

they sing to you as you wrap around all of me to be a home for this wandering soul after a hard long journey to find you there..