SexyLatina19
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2010
- Posts
- 784
What a stunning picture.
Queer Art and Poetry
- Thread starter Esperanza_Hidalgo
- Start date
What a stunning picture.
Gi_Venus
Loving Heart
- Joined
- Nov 19, 2005
- Posts
- 11,550
SexyLatina19
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2010
- Posts
- 784
Oh! How did I miss that one? Hello there SLHow are you doing darling?
I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking.
How are you doing?
NeonSubtlety
I'm a guy. I promise.
- Joined
- May 16, 2010
- Posts
- 13,534
Hi, Esperanza. Feel free to post whatever poems I've submitted onto the "new Poems" page. You'll know best what fits the tone of your thread. I would have responded to your email, but the anonymity thing is confusing with lit's feedback option.
Anyway, I'm glad you liked some of what I had to say.
Anyway, I'm glad you liked some of what I had to say.
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Back Porch Blues
by NeonSubtlety©
Mom once told me she couldn't
go to my basketball games
because she didn't want to cut
herself on those metal chairs
and bleed sick blood
where eight-year-olds played.
She hit herself, once,
on the edge of the dishwasher,
and cried for two hours
while she sponged down the floor,
yelling at me to keep away
from her and the metal things.
My sister managed a smile
when she walked in on
her in the bathroom,
trying on her first wig and asked
"how's your bald mother look now?"
Fresh tears glazed her cheeks.
Sometimes I remember
she's going to die in pain
or drooling on her nightgown
from the morphine or oxycontin,
and only then do I feel guilty
for ignoring her after my games.
Mom once told me she only wants
one thing in life--a big porch,
somewhere she can hum like old people should,
and remember when her life was as clean
as my Sunday morning handkerchief.
by NeonSubtlety©
Mom once told me she couldn't
go to my basketball games
because she didn't want to cut
herself on those metal chairs
and bleed sick blood
where eight-year-olds played.
She hit herself, once,
on the edge of the dishwasher,
and cried for two hours
while she sponged down the floor,
yelling at me to keep away
from her and the metal things.
My sister managed a smile
when she walked in on
her in the bathroom,
trying on her first wig and asked
"how's your bald mother look now?"
Fresh tears glazed her cheeks.
Sometimes I remember
she's going to die in pain
or drooling on her nightgown
from the morphine or oxycontin,
and only then do I feel guilty
for ignoring her after my games.
Mom once told me she only wants
one thing in life--a big porch,
somewhere she can hum like old people should,
and remember when her life was as clean
as my Sunday morning handkerchief.
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Immortality
by NeonSubtlety©
I loved those rebellious Tuesday nights,
2 a.m. rendezvous when you would
throw stones at my window, whisper
clouds into wet weather, and shiver.
We'd stay out all night
because we wanted to live longer.
I loved the way you looked at me,
smiling because you couldn't help it.
We turned the music up loud, sang to
Dave Matthews, disappeared somewhere
in the high notes, found ourselves spent
at the intro to "Crash Into Me."
I loved how it felt when you would stand
close, breathing in heavy carpet.
We'd grip each other's balmy palms,
say a prayer, jump into the lake together.
I loved those rebellious Tuesday nights,
car rides home, when we'd listen to static
AM radio. Our bodies would melt into
white noise. We would will the night to stay dark
and suffer the tangerine horizon.
by NeonSubtlety©
I loved those rebellious Tuesday nights,
2 a.m. rendezvous when you would
throw stones at my window, whisper
clouds into wet weather, and shiver.
We'd stay out all night
because we wanted to live longer.
I loved the way you looked at me,
smiling because you couldn't help it.
We turned the music up loud, sang to
Dave Matthews, disappeared somewhere
in the high notes, found ourselves spent
at the intro to "Crash Into Me."
I loved how it felt when you would stand
close, breathing in heavy carpet.
We'd grip each other's balmy palms,
say a prayer, jump into the lake together.
I loved those rebellious Tuesday nights,
car rides home, when we'd listen to static
AM radio. Our bodies would melt into
white noise. We would will the night to stay dark
and suffer the tangerine horizon.
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Mine
Esperanza_Hidalgo
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Posts
- 2,614
Sleeping Beauty
by Sapphos Sister©
Will you still be here tomorrow,
Lying snugly by my side,
Or was our love a coat to borrow,
A room to rent, a taxi ride?
In your giving of such rapture
Did you give yourself to me,
Or is your love too fleet for capture
By one who craves its constancy?
Will the daybreak gild our faces
In it golden, glowing tint,
Or will these be love's only traces:
That scent of sex, this pillow-print?
As I ride each blissful coming,
Will I arch against your jaws,
Or lie alone, two fingers strumming,
Pretending that my hand is yours?
by Sapphos Sister©
Will you still be here tomorrow,
Lying snugly by my side,
Or was our love a coat to borrow,
A room to rent, a taxi ride?
In your giving of such rapture
Did you give yourself to me,
Or is your love too fleet for capture
By one who craves its constancy?
Will the daybreak gild our faces
In it golden, glowing tint,
Or will these be love's only traces:
That scent of sex, this pillow-print?
As I ride each blissful coming,
Will I arch against your jaws,
Or lie alone, two fingers strumming,
Pretending that my hand is yours?
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