Challenge: Five Poems in Five Days.

4.

My dearest Pasha-
Keep the lights on and see what you have not
Seen before.

Effendi, lay down. I know what I am doing.
When I swallow you Bey, I swallow your empire.

And when you love for this, know that I lie-
When I say Bey-I never have sucked before.
 
5. Past Present

It's been awhile since pink and purple
touched the sky; I've slept much too late
or driven sunblocked to work at dark o'clock.
The dawn warms our faces as we drink
coffee, like we have done all night.
Neither wants to sleep, but we must
so we hush talk into each others mouth's.
We make plans, love and life all morning.
It's only two in the afternoon when I wake,
alone, remembering that was yesterday
and that day is long gone, like you.
:eek: Your words hit perfect! "so we hush talk into each others mouth's"
 
1.

*I guess I am starting over.


My nails are red and he expects that.
I suck his cock and he sucks the words-
Out of my head and the page is blank.

I am left with chipped nails
And empty lined sheets and he wants more-
More love that doesn’t exist.
 
2.

I am made up of the fabric that lay on
Dinner tables at restaurants.
I wash the stains out every night with bleach -
And my love is the missing centerpiece.

That doesn’t mean we can’t eat.
 
First one.

Infinite time ahead, infinite has gone,
Infinite space for time to pass along.
Everything has happened, or is, or will, or could.
Everything makes sense, there is no right or wrong.
What, then motivates "should?"

When it makes equal sense to go either way,
Both ways are taken; both futures will stay
Unaware of each other, disconnected at best.
Everything makes sense, so you don't need to pray
Over choosing east or west.

So why, then, the dilemma? Why so much debate
Over how to live our lives? As masters of our fate
We should not be so concerned about the ends.
Everything makes sense, everything that we create
Is a universe which on our choice depends.

I feel the choice I make right now is one of those
That bears a separate universe. I suppose
Another me will come about, living how he chose.
Everything makes sense, even if it yields no good
I'm still doing what I should.
 
For everyone, a sonnet about poop,
For poop can be a many splendor'd thing.
It sometimes takes the form of greenish goop
That leaves a most unsightly toilet ring.
It also takes the form of dark brown turds
That never, for the life of them, can flush.
But farms that grow our food, friends, heed these words
Need poopish substances to keep them lush.
What else could you do then? Just hold it in?
Your trash is nature's treasure, spread it wide!
Withholding means to life is surely sin.
Besides, it spawns some gas that you can't hide.
So, I propose we drink a toast to it,
For there's no friend more dear to us than shit!
 
Number 3!

Your hands are cold
As I take you in my arms and bring you to the floor.
We dance quietly
AndI hold you close in my arms
Your stomach presses against me
And then
Falls out,
Along with the rest of you,
As I slip ever so slightly on the pool of blood below us.

I lay you on top of yourself.
Damn, the foreplay was cut short tonight.
But honey, I have to say that,
All things considered,
I still think you have a nice ass.
 
Thinking of Rumi on this one...

God is the greatest miracle,
And the greatest miracle is the hardest to explain.
What then, can be harder to explain
Than substance coming -- out of nothingness?
What miracle could be greater than
God creating the universe --
All the while, not existing?

Look at Numbers --
Not all that is real is rational.
Science can't explain it,
Religion can't justify it.
The two will unite in the end.
 
BMX and THC
NASA, NAACP
MPAA, FBI
LGBT at the Y
ASCAP, GM
DDR2RAM?
FDR and LBJ
MSDS, NBA

NE1 C's Y the ABC's R AFU
Think twice on your conclusion,
Cause you probably do it, too.
 
witty, meaty, clever poetry, Black. look forward to reading more from you :cool:
 
Almost started a new thread but found this . 'Cause I need days off.

.....
 
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1


She would stay
wings opened
for the sun
fixed in place
without pins
or salt. For the reward
that comes
with feeling caught
in a unseen chrysalis
created by careful
touches and wordless
communication
that mean nothing
and for that moment
it doesn’t matter.

Breathtaking.
 
1

Ovoviviparous

Glenn plucked her up out of the grass,
like picking an onion, though
god, she twisted, twisted

to get free of him. Then he smacked
the snake on the pavement
like cracking a whip.

Her body split and children
fell out like commas
for future sentences, small, wet, dying.

Glenn was happy at this
and stepped on them.
I, then and forever, wished him dead.


.
 
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