007 Challenge

Am I willing to take that chance?
To give into your seductive tone?
Let you touch my body with soft slow strokes.
Submitting myself to an experience
that could be my deepest intimate moment.
You do not rule with 'should nots' or 'cannots',
but rule you most certainly do, so let's be discretely
devoted while your voice gives me the chills.
A sex god willing to pleasure his goddess
behind close doors.
 
Remeber now the crack
of sticks in a chest full
of cartilage bones and flesh

a bellows broken
gasp
gasp

marshmellows melting
anaerobic shock
as sludge pours over strained sinew and pools there
carbs burn dirty
and the violence doesnt stop
all you can do is grasp
for the next breath

and cover the broken bones
 
Remeber now the crack
of sticks in a chest full
of cartilage bones and flesh

a bellows broken
gasp
gasp

marshmellows melting
anaerobic shock
as sludge pours over strained sinew and pools there
carbs burn dirty
and the violence doesnt stop
all you can do is grasp
for the next breath

and cover the broken bones

Well hellooooo, where have you been?
 
Oh shit I forgot to write my pome (yes pome).
What should I gather first?
My wits might be a good idea.
I wonder where I left them last?
Looks on Facebook (no chance there).
Looks on porn sites (various)
So where else to look?
.
Under pillows, under chairs
in the kitchen? no not there.
In the dog's bed, wasting time,
under hubby, snores sublime!!
Nope can't find them,
there's no doubt
I'm going to have to do without!
 
Well hellooooo, where have you been?

Out and about doing what stray cats do lol

Im trying to adjust to having two broken ribs and torn cartiladge on my ribcage; had a boxing match and got my ribs broken in the first 30 seconds of the fight. i won the match on points using my left hand because my rightside couldn handle me throwing punches. what ya gonna do "shrug" very lucky i didnt get hit in the same spot, there was almost complete seperation of one of my lower ribs if hit hard enough it would likely have pierced the lung
 
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You left
no note
no goodby
juat the smell of stale cigarette
only evidence you even existed
the torn up panties still
tied to the bed head
where I used them to bind your wrists
and inhale the charred remanants
of sex
and an echo of harsh breathing
wondering if my heart would fucking quit
a wild fire
a hurricane
a rare moment when all that existed
was you setting fire to oceans

even the thought of you stirs me
I need to readjust
staring at the glow
of other windows
their shadows playing marionettes
as I search for one more torrid line
to bring you back

we werent meant to last
wild fires destroy everything
but im still searching for that love poem
the one that doesnt pull your clothes off
and ransack your lust
but makes you want to stay
watch the sunrise
feed eachother fingers of toast
and believe a sunset is more than
another day of our lives
we'll never get back
 
Out and about doing what stray cats do lol

Im trying to adjust to having two broken ribs and torn cartiladge on my ribcage; had a boxing match and got my ribs broken in the first 30 seconds of the fight. i won the match on points using my left hand because my rightside couldn handle me throwing punches. what ya gonna do "shrug" very lucky i didnt get hit in the same spot, there was almost complete seperation of one of my lower ribs if hit hard enough it would likely have pierced the lung

Bloody hell man! I hope you've got pain relief and heal quickly :heart:
 
I curl up in the recliner
to watch a spiteful breeze
punching clouds across the sky,
and I with stomach ache
for no reason I can fathom,
feel their defenceless pain.
 
Bloody hell man! I hope you've got pain relief and heal quickly :heart:

Its rare i take painkillers they really knock me around i cant drive on them i fall asleep at the wheel so nope just taking a tea spoon of concrete so I can harden up lol

My coach thought I was trying to be a show off by only using one hand, wasnt till after the x-rays he started yelling at me for being so reckless and stupid I didnt tell him how bad the shot was.
 
Its rare i take painkillers they really knock me around i cant drive on them i fall asleep at the wheel so nope just taking a tea spoon of concrete so I can harden up lol

My coach thought I was trying to be a show off by only using one hand, wasnt till after the x-rays he started yelling at me for being so reckless and stupid I didnt tell him how bad the shot was.
*shakes head in bemusement*

{very gentle e-hug}

:cattail:
 
As I lay upon that hospital bed
I would escape to my safe place,
meditating onto an island shore
at sunset, fire reflecting until
the moon drowned in the waters
finding peace in this serene place,
where the same stars shone for you.
 
I don't know what good enough means, really. This is gooder enough the more I read:)

Thank you, dear heart - voice of a dream

wet or dry

Good enough of a tribute to someone I admire and you know. Like that.

Todski really vivid work. You and UYS are a dynamic duo. Looking forward to reading more pomes (as UYS says).
 
The ists

So I'm avoiding talking to this particular firefighter
and it's mutual because we have sparred
smirked and sparred. Sometimes warily laughed. But mostly
squared off. Sexism in my corner, racism in his.

Then I said you're right. I'm white and grew up not even
knowing what that meant but poisoned a strain for every
generation that grew prosperous on the backs
of blacks. I read "White Fragility" which knocked my
righteousness back a mile, but even from there it is possible
to see past the fishbowl of my white view
by a mile or two. It's a far swim.

Then he said you know we could be making babies
right now. Then we both laughed
and didn't.
 
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Donde?

Two hours in to a three-hour line, the waiting
mother answers in Spanish siete. Which meant
they have been trying to register at the wrong
school entirely. Google maps wasn't apology
enough for no one spoke Spanish y solo tengo un
poquito, begging pardon. I walked them a block
down to the campus, all the while thanking
the people who built this nation, White House
to train tracks, who sang beating hearts or wide
eyes in their own languages. Which netted to
thousands of languages, infusing English
with words and the means to carry them.

Dear old England was flooded with every wave
that swept until its cheeks burst with words.
How clever to absorb what was left after
massacre by sea! Claimed as patient reward
from summer graduates. If one is remarkably
lucky maybe a library.

Speaking English is speaking the shells
and stones carried across in baskets--
commemorations of conquer.

At every souvenir shop, sand speaks in minutes
but so quietly only eyes listen.
 
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Have You Got Pre-Approval For That Opinion

I shake my head at the lines of hatred
simmering below the surface
subtle treads on broken threads
where grievance is a currency
and my oppression poker hand trumps yours
because my race
my sex
my self identification as an apache helicopter
is not being validated
in a world of emotional incontinence
where the weakest common denominator
is championed for their virute
and we try to flip
paradigms
stereotypes are illegal.
pride in the accomplishments of the "west"
is full of contempt
resentment
and philosophies of discerned merit
are scorned
because.... and no valid answers can be given
except for illusionary
figures lurking in shadows

Patriarchy
Racism
Sexism
Islamophobe
Transphobe.
Misoginist
beneficiary of White fucking priveledge
And women are the losers
and men are the losers

We shift further into
our blended brave new world
rolling back time to 1984
We experiment with power dynamics to the minorities
and think its going to usher in a utopia....

what we forget is the darkest parts of us that hide
behind veneered smiles
and plastic plated visions
that theres an animal stalking
just below the civilized surface
the dragon
the shark
the all existing ability to translate
what hurts us into other peoples pain
and that those often with the highest ranking medal
in the opression olympics
have been tactical in their approach
fostering grievances honing the edge
til its sharp enough to slit throats
 
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This

My mouth is only lips and skin and teeth and the movement
of that one person's (this person's) mouth is just a few inches.
It's not a MOVEMENT. But it can still talk about movements.
This mouth. This me. This I.

Talking about what happened is not a hate crime.
Talking about split lip, child porn, strung up from a tree
is not hate crime.

It is reporting
remembering
the hate crimes.

This is just one mouth remembering
split lip. This is not a movement. But

sometimes this is a mouth that smiles. And
THAT is definitely not a hate crime.
 
i hold my tongue
damn near bite it in half
because somethings we need to hear
opinions that assail out preconceptions
need to prick at our self righteous cloak
of world weary confirmation biased babble

and maybe at the end instead of simply waiting
for my turn to speak
i might be able to nod
and understand

but even if I don't I respect your essence
and right as a human to vocalize
whatever you must
 
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The Bridge

Googlemaps can't show me how
but I'm sure there's a bridge there somewhere

between my beaten mother and your
valiant soldiers where we can agree

on what human is. Perhaps humans
forgive the blood cost. Odds go up

considerably when forgiveness is asked.
So I ask. And keep asking. Keep

seeing the hanging hooks and baby sized
shackles that nothing can address but "yes.

I wasn't there, but yes!" Air tastes better
after counting the nooses and grieving.

Feet slapslide easier after
tapping out the dance's history.

Go on and do what you do if it feels better.
Bamboo and I will try making bridges.

Fight is fuel enough to keep fighting but
fighting can't build an equation.

I'm interested in bridges.
 
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Ransack*
Rattan*
Rebel*
Redemption*
Rhapsody*
Ripen*
Rivulet*
Rosary*
Rucksack*
Rye*

I search for redemption
in the rhapsody of lust
that curls like rosary beads around my fingers
rattan cane strikes a loud
smack across your bare ass
a red bloom ripens
you writhe
body rebels against the swift sting

you run a slick rivulet of pleasure
as I slide deep
we settle skin to skin
both moaning against our inability to
live within eachothers bodies
we do everything in our power
to weld together
in a blur of frictionless wet
you howl
a pulsing light against
the thrust of my pounding
ache
Im lost
because all thats left to feel
is the dark sensation
of you gripping the sheets
and me with the same fervor

later when our breathing has settled
i pull a soft loaf of rye bread from my rucksack
a small bottle of chilled wine
unzip the tent so we can stare at the stars
your hair tickling my neck
sweat and steam rising from the heat of our bodies
and realising
we are less than pin pricks in a vast void of space
but for those brief moments
we ransaked time
we were all that existed
all that mattered
 
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Redemption

Interest accumulates on money
loaned. This I know.

Tickets get redeemed
at carnivals and pawn shops.

Skepticism says to me
redeem your own self

because who else will
count your columns?

Girl scout up.
 
I'm gonna hold my last 3 until later. :) I have to find other ways to write, but this has been the only place for 16 years. I don't know what it is about this place. I mean it guarantees I can't be published if I write it here. But I do it anyway. Ok. Zipping it up for a few days. Sorry UYS and T. I'm off the dance floor until the song is over.
 
I'm gonna hold my last 3 until later. :) I have to find other ways to write, but this has been the only place for 16 years. I don't know what it is about this place. I mean it guarantees I can't be published if I write it here. But I do it anyway. Ok. Zipping it up for a few days. Sorry UYS and T. I'm off the dance floor until the song is over.

What ever you need to do i kinda have the same writing issue mostly only able to write here so I feel you pain there
 
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