Literary OrgasmRhythm of Liteary OrgasmLiterary Orgasm10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As my receptive ears are so boldly caressed
By your sensual expressions
I feel awoken within my breasts, (figuratively speaking, of course)
The pulsing of some supernatural rhythm
Causing my insides to resonate to the vibrations of some unhearable call
That reaches into parts of me Ive kept secret even from myself
And draws up from within them
Such a wealth of mysterious passion
That my mind begins to tremble
As I feel myself, my spirit, penetrated-
By the deepening beauty of your words
So that such complete pleasure
Is poured upon my senses, at the utterance of your every syllable,
And I feel myself beginning to slip into the curvature of your words,
Which seem as if they were made solely for the purpose of enveloping my mind
Caressing the softest parts of my spirit
With secret forbidden kisses
Tiny licks of
The Problem With Elia.she could have been a violin;The Problem With Elia.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
born a week too late, she had
melancholy in her bones: doctor lizbet
took time out of her schedule to pluck her
newborn strings - calloused sanitation against
mottled pink-and-yellow flesh & thrashing limbs.
in three more years, she will have
nothing in her bones at all: doctor estair
diagnosed her with iatrophobia to fuel her
instinctive chords - ripple-free shells of liquid
lobotomy & a capsule to callous her pink-and-yellow
flesh against the thought of just getting over it all.
ten years after that, her mother will
find her face down and thrashing: her dust
bunny bones will flex as she retches up her memories
for display - lawyers will spend the next few years pawing
through them with clawed hands and heaving breathing until
one day, they find lizbet and estair huddled amid the rubble of her bones.
You Don't Know Your Daughter At AllJust because she is no longer in a cradleYou Don't Know Your Daughter At All2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Does not mean that your baby wont fall
And if you think that her smile means she is happy
Then you don’t know your daughter at all
On arriving home from school she runs up the stairs
And locks herself away in her room
It’s so easy to think that it’s just teenage angst
That will pass in time and be gone soon
Perhaps you assume that it is just boy trouble
A romance that will soon be forgot
Yes, maybe her problems are just a passing phase
But then again what if they are not
What if they’re deep rooted in the parental soil
That you’ve been failing to cultivate
As she grows, the leaves of her childhood are falling
And as of yet have not been replaced
Dismal days are making her deciduate
No wonder she’s feeling insecure
Her branches of self belief have become so bare
With her leaves left scattered on the floor
She patiently waits to once again see the light
Not knowing that this darkness will lift
It is your job to
Such Envy ConstruedSuch Envy Construed3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Such envy construed from a dead, lifeless thing!
One would think I had taken too much of wine
Yet here I still lie, overcome with this dream
When the sensuous dawn and the morning are mine
I curse the sweet cloth that extends his form
So dark, yet inviting in its fibers of night
If the heart is the eyes, then his heart beats on
For his hand is my scepter and his being my sight
Such violence! Such envy! Are mortals so daft?
If a rose stabs itself on the thorns of deceit
I scream out my words, but you only will laugh
At the warring so bloody, yet blindingly sweet
If I lay me down tightly and rightly to sleep
Then dear Death will come tramping, as soon is his due
Announce my cold state, for the flesh will not reap
I am lying in arms so much sweeter than you
I'm Fine, Trust meI'm Fine, Trust me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's just fine
Just stab me with that knife
I'm just fine
Rip my heart out when I'm alive
All that I see
Is you in my dreams
All that I see
Is that my heart is incomplete
It's just fine
My heart's made of ice
It's just fine
Just make me feel alive
and it came on in waves.and it came on in waves.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Big Sur was a name that lived in the mouths of surfers and the words of Jack Kerouac and Henry Miller. Spontaneity drove me to this place as I ventured away from the Los Angeles wasteland back to the Silicon graveyard called home. The boredom of business for a whole week might have been the true cause. I'm never one not to take an adventure.
But California natives drove smart. To cross from one side of the state to the other, you took I-5 or 101. We laughed at the idiots who took the "scenic route" for pleasure, not for business. You only took Highway 1 to access the beaches. With the twists and turns, possible motion sickness, mudslides, rockslides, fog and constant construction, Highway 1 was a tourist's wake-up call-- not all is sunny-sexy in the Golden state. Seeing as I lived four years away from home, where the Northeast's transportation circulatory system pulses strong, fast and easy, I did an un-native thing and turned off at Pismo Beach for Highway 1.
Driving this road a few h
Monster InsideMonster Inside3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The monster inside her weakens her
Takes away the happiness of life,
And her genuine smile,
Replacing it with a fictitious, fake mask,
Worn only in front of family and friends.
It wears her down, from the inside out,
A demon inside taking control of her body,
Banishing her out,
Making her feel as if she is a spectator in her own body
She is devoid of all content emotions:
Happiness, joy, excitement.
Yet the ruthless emotions stay,
As if feeding the creature within each passing day:
Heartbreak, pain, anger, fear
Walking in a vast expanse of darkness,
All she can do is search,
Day and night,
For that small light full of hope,
Full of meaning,
That will lead her to her old self,
The person she used to be.
I was able to imagine,
To live in my own little world of imagination.
I could actually smile
Without putting on an act for others.
I felt as if there was a meaning to life,
But now there's nothing important enough in my life to live for.
But, most importantly,
I had my
For Female ReadersFirst, I'd like to start where every guy should. With your eyes.For Female Readers10 years ago in Teen More Like This
They twinkle, with such an unsurpassed light, each little glimmer and twinkle like a diamond or pearl in the sunlight. However, even if I was offered such riches, I'd give them all away, just for one glance, one look from you.
Moving on to your face. It's beauty surpasses the combined efforts of the world's artists over the ages this world has existed. Sculpters, painters, all of them would not even try. A light shines from you, tha which no documentation could capture. You inspire, love, lust and desire, except such words fail uttery to truely know what I feel when around you.
Your hair. Each strand worth more than gold. It glimmers in the sun, each soft breeze moving it in movements of glory and such beauty. Each tiny twist, or turn in the air is truly poetry in motion.
Your body. Man has sought after such a creature since the dawn of time. Somthing to worship, something to believe in, but you are beyond such things as
Just a Spark... Rus EngEverything had begun with a little spark, just a spark in his eyes. As soon as she saw this little fire she knew he was special, it was meant to be. The more her wind blew the brighter his fire burnt. And it didn't matter that they were different, different powers and different elements, they were connected. Sometimes just her soft breathing made him blaze up like a thousand suns. It incinerated him inside, he hated her always flowing on the wind hair, her silhouette in the blue sky and her cold eyes. Every movement of her body made him burn. His own fire made him miserable, because she could control it. But he hated one thing more than her. Himself. He liked the way she made him blaze up, the way her breath woke his fire up and the feeling of thousand burning suns in his heart. He loved her freedom and intrepidity. He loved her unpredictability. He loved her.Just a Spark... Rus Eng4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Все началось с мале&
sometimesSometimes I bleedsometimes9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I cry
I love, I feel, I need
I sometimes want to die
Sometimes I forget my smile
You might see me sad for a little while
Sometimes the loneliness gets too deep
At night I struggle when I should be asleep
You look at me and think I'm strong
Sometimes you see me wrong
I'm just a girl trying to find her way
Sometimes I don't have the words to say
I let you think that I don't care
You would see if my soul was stripped bare
Sometimes I let myself fall
At those times you almost hear my call
In Love with a WizardLet me ride on your broomIn Love with a Wizard5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
under the midnight gloom
where stars that shine and groom.
I was hypnotized by your blue pretty eyes,
just as blue as the sky.
With your broom, we fly.
Your smile is an attraction
and it was really a perfection.
Whenever I see you, I felt passion.
My love for you is deep.
I know this is cheap,
but this is what I keep.
Oh my wizard, my only wizard...
When will I ever see you again?
There Was a TimeThere was a time, when I thought we were one.There Was a Time5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There was a time, when I thought we could be.
There was a time, when I thought we were there.
But now this time, the truth, I can really see.
We're not one and we're not there.
There's no us, there's no we.
There's reason for this, there has to be.
Because I guess it was never meant to be.
I miss you, because I love you.
I always enjoy talking to you.
I missed you, because I loved you.
I used to enjoy talking to you.
There was a time, when we were one.
There was a time, when we could have been.
There was a time, when we almost were.
I guess I was just too dumb to see it back then.
Your StoryI'd much rather cry for youYour Story3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
'Cause my story is too painful to share
I'd much rather smile for you
'Cause my story is too painful to bare
So come here and I'll wrap my arms around you
Come here and I'll let your story shine
But after you share your story
Please don't ask me about mine
If only I could play the violin
I'd share my past through sorrowful chords
Vibrato on strings would be my voice
Fighting my demons with imaginary swords
Although I'm limited to words on paper
And the words aren't sung by a beautiful voice
These words make my story into a song
And this song confronts you with a choice
You can close your eyes
And pretend this is a fairytale
Pretend it's a meaningless story
That was never once true
Or you can open your eyes
And realise deep down
That the story isn't just about me
That you're the main character too
If you don't want to tell your story
As it is, spoken word to word
Turn your art into your voice
And you will always be heard
A picture speaks a thousand words
WastelandWasteland3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Eliot hunched his shoulders against the wind, the relentless sand picking at the seals of his gloves and headgear trying to find a way inside. He watched the glow of the sun disappear beyond the horizon, his waking period now fully begun.
It had been weeks since he'd seen another soul, perhaps years. Who kept count of such things anymore anyways?
The last city he'd abandoned to the ravages of this dust bowl planet had been a graveyard, he'd taken what he could carry, what little food and fresh water remained before the decay and vermin forced him back into the desert, back to his search for living humans.
There had to be more, they were so prolific on this rock before the coming, had spread so far, achieved so much. He'd visited countless monuments to the species' achievement here, each sprawling steel and glass expanse a testament to human drive and ambition, each barren, vacant ghost-town a reminder that the planet doesn't welcome strangers, doesn't tolerate intrusion.
Picked On..Picked On..3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When you make fun of me
My feeling you can not see
Tears running down my heart
ripping me all apart
Not on the outside but in
something time can't even mend
Suicide On Your LipsI tried so hard to pull awaySuicide On Your Lips3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the end of the night when we kissed
But as you begged me once again to stay
I could taste suicide on your lips
And such an intoxicating fragrance
Far removed from the stench of death
Such a beautiful perfume of life
Of a lost girl hollow from neglect
Am I too late to save her my Lord
Will those lips ever smile again
When razorblade remedies are scarring
Her beautiful porcelain skin
You spoke of your sorrows till midnight
Then you slept in my arms until dawn
Awoke and cried tears until midday
For your past and your present you mourned
And when the last tear finally fell
I explained I'd never leave your side
Heartfelt words alone wouldn't do
I painted our future with pride
Together we created a masterpiece
A magnum opus beyond compare
I now kiss those lips on a basis daily
The taste of suicide is no longer there
Practice Poem - Artistic FrustrationPractice Poem - Artistic Frustration:Practice Poem - Artistic Frustration2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Everything is wrong.
'As then sun dew drips from her eyes'-
Do I really think that'll be good enough?
Hours spent on each piece -
Punctuated only by sound of ripping paper -
To lie crumpled upon my wooden floor,
Unable to be forgotten.
As the hours pass and the day wears on,
More and more worlds are crushed by my hands.
Realities sprawled upon a single piece of paper,
To die as quickly as they are formed.
A man's whose romance is torn in two,
A vampire about to meet his prey.
A werewolf standing against an army
And a boy facing the world alone.
These are the lives that I hold in my hand;
Fictional lives, but precious still.
Yet as soon as I see their imperfections,
I destroy the evidence in a throe of shame.
These crumpled masses that now surround me,
They aren't the proof of perfection's pursuit...
They are merely my feeble, worthless attempts,
To disguise my own ineptitude.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 15th Decembe