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Re: Re: I've come to play

fawnie said:
its not as fun when it doesn't fel like we're doing away with some sacred law:rolleyes:
but i'm still naked and sitting in the corner:devil: :kiss:
Click to expand...

You're right. It was more fun in the other thread.

toddles off to write a naked food poem

Syn :kiss:
 
Re: Re: Re: I've come to play

Syndra Lynn said:
You're right. It was more fun in the other thread.

toddles off to write a naked food poem

Syn :kiss:
Click to expand...
can i be the french silk pie??:D :kiss:
 
It's later

My eyes are burning, needing a rest and I have to untie the kids, let them out a while *grins*

more to come later.
 
Echoes, you wonderful person you, thank you sooo much for popping in with reviews. Worked a 12 hour day and just got home. *sigh*

If you're still tied up with the kids, I'll see if I can't pick up where you left off. :D
 
minsue said:
Echoes, you wonderful person you, thank you sooo much for popping in with reviews. Worked a 12 hour day and just got home. *sigh*

If you're still tied up with the kids, I'll see if I can't pick up where you left off. :D
Click to expand...

almost ready for the third dive here...lots of poems out there. I have allergies and a cyst on my eye so was cooling them down with cold water...I was going to ask for help but really glad you are here now :heart:
 
echoes_s said:
almost ready for the third dive here...lots of poems out there. I have allergies and a cyst on my eye so was cooling them down with cold water...I was going to ask for help but really glad you are here now :heart:
Click to expand...

I'll start at the bottom. :) :rose:
 
Oh, miss Echoes...Your PM box is full so I couldn't reply. :D

Thank you again for doing such a large chunk of today's reviews. :heart:
 
minsue said:
Oh, miss Echoes...Your PM box is full so I couldn't reply. :D

Thank you again for doing such a large chunk of today's reviews. :heart:
Click to expand...

Thank you minsue and echoes for mention in your reviews. And thanks also for your valiant effort and time spent in general in reviewing.

echoes_s, I hope your eyes have cooled down some. r u sure it's not the heat from all this hot poetry making them swell? So much good stuff. I, too am finding hippiedude's offerings fresh and thought provoking.

You're probably both asleep, so here's a presnet by your pillows.:rose: :kiss: :heart:
 
Re: HELP

tarablackwood22 said:
I'M WRITING LIKE A MADWOMAN.............SOMEBODY HELP ME....... I CANT STOP!!!

DISTRACT ME....SOMEONE SEND ME A PM OR PUT UP A PICTURE OF YOUR ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OLD POET IN THE STREET AT SUNSET


the wet asphalt, the blaze
are so vivid,
alive to the senses,
poignant kisses
for a lifetime of senses.

ah!
to walk a street, tasting
its juvenile vulgarities, seared
by the scorch of a sun
that sinks with him,
leaves history behind, travels
dark to new places.

what waits there does not matter,
wild like a madman’s dream
or soft as the prayer
of a woman in passion, asking
a man for his love.

he falls, hears
the words of his father
as he struggles to his feet,
that time he was taught
to be a man:

rise, son,
this is no day for dying.

he walks again, in slowing pace,
past friends that fit in corners,
dead without death,
past polo players
varnished
with phony proverbs and polyurethane,
past the common
discussing serious matter,
nothing that is not carved
somewhere already
on a caveman’s wall.

hat finely mated to his head
his weary rear smacks a bench
and from his torn bag
he feeds hard bread to birds, shares
the little life that’s left,
those crumbs he brought for them.

the script of a larger poet has taken
his teeth, his hair,
drains his veins
in the name of vainglorious dusk.

walk, son,
this is a day for living.

three-legged again,
through the tip of his cane, meter
to the earth’s pulse,
he knows that his words
were the rants of a fool, his penstroke
sidewalk scribblings.

he tastes death on his lips, feels
his gravedigger’s sweat dripping, feeding
the beds of new flowers,
sees life like Monet saw his cathedral,
through ever-changing light, different
each time,
forcing him to paint another,
another,
and another,

sucking the dried breast of a sunset
on the edge of decision,
ready for orgasm,
and the street
will force climax
with a kiss.

*********************








SOMEBODY........SAVE ME!!!
Click to expand...

no way..
your frenzy is producing incredible stuff..
oh geeez..i'll throw you a rope if i must!:rolleyes:
god tara this was awesome!!:kiss:
 
Tathagata said:
yeah........
Click to expand...

strong words from 2 people i've never seen bare ass..but when i have my pc back online and access to my files..i'll give you ass!!:kiss: :kiss:
 
fawnie said:
strong words from 2 people i've never seen bare ass..but when i have my pc back online and access to my files..i'll give you ass!!:kiss: :kiss:
Click to expand...

trust me sweetie
ya dont wanna see mine
but Syndra say's Tara's is the sweetest ass she's ever seen
perhaps having HER post a pic would distract her?


Tara....take a break and show us the goods
 
Tathagata said:
trust me sweetie
ya dont wanna see mine
but Syndra say's Tara's is the sweetest ass she's ever seen
perhaps having HER post a pic would distract her?


Tara....take a break and show us the goods
Click to expand...

:p ;)
 
Re: HELP

tarablackwood22 said:
I'M WRITING LIKE A MADWOMAN.............SOMEBODY HELP ME....... I CANT STOP!!!

DISTRACT ME....SOMEONE SEND ME A PM OR PUT UP A PICTURE OF YOUR ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OLD POET IN THE STREET AT SUNSET


the wet asphalt, the blaze
are so vivid,
alive to the senses,
poignant kisses
for a lifetime of senses.

ah!
to walk a street, tasting
its juvenile vulgarities, seared
by the scorch of a sun
that sinks with him,
leaves history behind, travels
dark to new places.

what waits there does not matter,
wild like a madman’s dream
or soft as the prayer
of a woman in passion, asking
a man for his love.

he falls, hears
the words of his father
as he struggles to his feet,
that time he was taught
to be a man:

rise, son,
this is no day for dying.

he walks again, in slowing pace,
past friends that fit in corners,
dead without death,
past polo players
varnished
with phony proverbs and polyurethane,
past the common
discussing serious matter,
nothing that is not carved
somewhere already
on a caveman’s wall.

hat finely mated to his head
his weary rear smacks a bench
and from his torn bag
he feeds hard bread to birds, shares
the little life that’s left,
those crumbs he brought for them.

the script of a larger poet has taken
his teeth, his hair,
drains his veins
in the name of vainglorious dusk.

walk, son,
this is a day for living.

three-legged again,
through the tip of his cane, meter
to the earth’s pulse,
he knows that his words
were the rants of a fool, his penstroke
sidewalk scribblings.

he tastes death on his lips, feels
his gravedigger’s sweat dripping, feeding
the beds of new flowers,
sees life like Monet saw his cathedral,
through ever-changing light, different
each time,
forcing him to paint another,
another,
and another,

sucking the dried breast of a sunset
on the edge of decision,
ready for orgasm,
and the street
will force climax
with a kiss.

*********************

Wow! I have to agree with Fawnie - This is an Excellent Poem! If this is you as a madwoman, salvation is over-rated!
(P.S. Fawnie, if ya put up a picture of your ass, maybe you'll become Tara's inspiration ;) Just imagine this type of poetry written about your ass)
Click to expand...
 
Last edited:
Tathagata said:
trust me sweetie
ya dont wanna see mine
but Syndra say's Tara's is the sweetest ass she's ever seen
perhaps having HER post a pic would distract her?


Tara....take a break and show us the goods
Click to expand...


Do you expect me to be distracted by a picture of my own ass?

It's in use......I'm SITTING ON IT!!:D
 
tarablackwood22 said:
me, too VM........and it has brought me back from hell's doorstep!

I was worried for a while! :D
Click to expand...

let it snow
let it snow
let it snow

there's your distraction
Feel better??
:D
 
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