writing live

[HarryHill]

Still here, smithpeter, or is this just a corner of your cosmic mind?
no matter, just an absent thought after half a row of beans and coffee.

Now look, think on this a bit, there's so many things to do, paintings crying
for a dab, mechanical devices still in prototype, the yard. My God! It's not
domination but attrition, sorry I cant keep up and the woes of a greybeard
wax little or lot depending on the project, results sought. The charger for
the drill seems to have gone walkabout, so if you see it.

My painting itch is growing. Today, raising up from ministrations under the
beans skirt, the cumber trellis, near bare, yellowed leaf survivors few but
hopeful captured the eye. Beautiful scene, I ramble and there's things to do;
supper. sigh So anyway, got to go, wish I could say your looking good but
that may be metaphorically incorrect. Goodbye smithpeter.

 

[HarryHill]

Asleep at the wheel. I put the remote away, stashed her glasses.

 

[HarryHill]

Hello my friend, good to see you again. The air is still and except for the fan and TV's chatter it would be a soft afternoon, free from distractions. A time to let the mind roam, search for a sight of you there among the tree tops and woven branches, the green that walks away beneath.

 

[MistressLyda]

In spite of still wearing his clothes, he felt naked. Observed somehow.

He could not tell if it was cause of the note he had been sent, or the fact that the room was just a bit to quiet. There was a hum coming from somewhere, or something, but no voices, no animals, no cars. It just did not feel right for a warehouse at this size, placed in the middle of a industrial site.

 

[MistressLyda]

The rain was pouring down. She knew she had to get out of bed at some point, but it would not be anytime soon.

In the corner of her eye she could see him curled up, trying to stay as warm as he could in his chains. Not that he had much reason to complain, he had even been tossed a blanket before she fell asleep, but still, it was not exactly warm.

"Here". She threw him the keys. "Unlock yourself, and get me some tea, and a nice breakfast".

Quickly he removed his own shackles, and tried to stand up. His legs had fallen asleep, and a laugh escaped her. "Looks like you'll be crawling. See if you can spot my bra while you are down there anyways, I think he threw it in the corner".

 

[todski28]

Here I am again
tapping the keys
clacking away for clarity
a charity event for the broken down
body that wont seem to stop
nor find enough time to rest
hinged joints cracking
in protested hours
and I joke that I've worked nearly twenty years in the last ten
until I add the hours and realise


'well it's no time for worrying about that now
those miles aren't coming back
and tomorrow I step in the ring
for the first time in years
wondering if I've still got enough left
or if I'm going to be a sweating failure
that quits the moment it get hard

and still I haven't yet
broken bones
torn ligaments
surgeries

I guess I need to take some concrete and harden the fuck up
dance the battle hymn of the damned
put my mouth guard in

bite down hard on the fucker and come what may

 

[HarryHill]

Well it looks like I'm out of coffee,
sun's going down and the fire's out too,
metaphorically and in fact,
a refill just a short walk away;
laid hearth just requires a match.
Annie's theme plays in my brain,
no metaphor, dig?

 

[darkerdreamer]

Sideswiped, you totaled me. Write me off for insurance money because I'm yours whether you want the debt or not.

Crushed, I drove up the wrong way on the freeway and you were the eighteen wheel love inevitably found.

Here we are in the wreckage, unsure whose insurance takes the hit, but we both have residual injuries.

 

[todski28]

I’ve drowned myself with the flavour of blue
felt it trickle out of the sky
a deluge of iridescent wonder

Far from the blaring horns and
fuck you buddy screams
that fly in the teeth
of metal beasts
the thrum of irritation and smog
a miasma if asthma clouds
stale sweat and the stench of humanity
dieing a slow ideological death
consumed by a sense of irrational
rationality imagining the million ways we can’t change
and how the weight of it all is now
floating in blue

and this
natural artifact
this moment
captures the divinity of the incomprehensible
and I know science has the facts of why
but knowing the why
doesn’t steal the magic from my eyes
and so
to hell with the why
and just let me float
her and feel the mist of
something beyond me
caress the wonder that I
sold when I brought my first Iphone

 

[greenmountaineer]

I’ve drowned myself with the flavour of blue
felt it trickle out of the sky
a deluge of iridescent wonder

Far from the blaring horns and
fuck you buddy screams
that fly in the teeth
of metal beasts
the thrum of irritation and smog
a miasma if asthma clouds
stale sweat and the stench of humanity
dieing a slow ideological death
consumed by a sense of irrational
rationality imagining the million ways we can’t change
and how the weight of it all is now
floating in blue

and this
natural artifact
this moment
captures the divinity of the incomprehensible
and I know science has the facts of why
but knowing the why
doesn’t steal the magic from my eyes
and so
to hell with the why
and just let me float
her and feel the mist of
something beyond me
caress the wonder that I
sold when I brought my first Iphone

Just my opinion, tod, but I thought the poem was better without the last stanza, particularly the way the nature of "blue" changed.

 

[butters]

Just my opinion, tod, but I thought the poem was better without the last stanza, particularly the way the nature of "blue" changed.

as i read it, there feels to be a natural ending at floating in blue. it becomes a very different poem afterwards and the 2 halves don't entirely gel even though there are phrases/images in the second half i liked. this would be stronger without part 2.

 

[todski28]

as i read it, there feels to be a natural ending at floating in blue. it becomes a very different poem afterwards and the 2 halves don't entirely gel even though there are phrases/images in the second half i liked. this would be stronger without part 2.

Just my opinion, tod, but I thought the poem was better without the last stanza, particularly the way the nature of "blue" changed.

I lost control somewhere and it came out disjointed I’m trying to hash them together seamlessly but it may just end up another random thought that got semi written. It may end up in my trash bin in the poetry hangout if I can make it work the way I want it too

 

[butters]

heavy rain

the shingle bank
undermined
erosion

step carefully
feet unsure
concerns of collapse

brooding skies
sun plays games with clouds
silver linings

no season is all bright weather
sometimes ... sometimes
breath's suspended
in indigo's deepest crush

 

[CucumberLemonade]

Hi everyone, I'm new to this corner of the forums.
This thread inspired me to just write something for Valentines, very light erotic, and apparently unrequited theme.

Can I submit this on Literotica Poems too?

Any feedback and criticism will be greatly appreciated.

Happy Valentine's to you all

 

[CucumberLemonade]

Neverland

NEVERLAND

It's you, I dreamed,
Two days, it seemed.

Undressed, you came,
Without no shame.

To Neverland,
We charged unplanned.

Our fantasies,
We made exist.

And even if,
We jumped on cliffs.

I still didn't fear,
Since you were here.

With our hands latched,
Like perfect match.

We strode the land,
Without demands.

Courage I took,
Undid my hook.

All left, removed.
You stared, didn't moved.

My hair, let down,
You looked, I drowned.

You pulled my hand,
To you, I land.

Locked in your arms,
No one can harm.

We stared then kissed,
Oh such a bliss!

In each other,
We found pleasure.

We never stopped,
Till we both popped.

Harder, we grind.
Juices combined.

Sweaty, sticky,
Not a quickie.

Our bodies tired,
For what transpired.

Mind's sedated,
Both elated.

We cuddled more,
To deep slumber.

We cared the less,
Our nakedness.

Let the land see,
That we're both free!

Until I woke...
Found all's a joke.

It's just a dream...
That's what it seemed.

021419
Unedited/Unrehearsed
© CucumberLemonade ©Poetess ©AD/CL
​

 

[UnderYourSpell]

NEVERLAND

It's you, I dreamed,
Two days, it seemed.

Undressed, you came,
Without no shame. ......... Should be 'any'

To Neverland,
We charged unplanned.

Our fantasies,
We made exist........... no rhyme at all

And even if,
We jumped on cliffs. .......... jumped off cliffs?

I still didn't fear,
Since you were here.

With our hands latched,
Like perfect match. ....... near rhyme? not sure

We strode the land,
Without demands.

Courage I took,
Undid my hook.

All left, removed.
You stared, didn't moved........... should be move

My hair, let down,
You looked, I drowned.

You pulled my hand,
To you, I land.

Locked in your arms,
No one can harm.

We stared then kissed,
Oh such a bliss!

In each other,
We found pleasure.......... no rhyme at all

We never stopped,
Till we both popped.

Harder, we grind.
Juices combined.

Sweaty, sticky,
Not a quickie.

Our bodies tired,
For what transpired.

Mind's sedated,
Both elated.

We cuddled more,
To deep slumber............ no rhyme at all

We cared the less,
Our nakedness.

Let the land see,
That we're both free!

Until I woke...
Found all's a joke.

It's just a dream...
That's what it seemed.

021419
Unedited/Unrehearsed
© CucumberLemonade ©Poetess ©AD/CL
​

As you asked for critique this is my take on it. Hopefully no criticism here and you can post anything anywhere as long as it adheres to the rules.

 

[CucumberLemonade]

Working on it

 

[CucumberLemonade]

As you asked for critique this is my take on it. Hopefully no criticism here and you can post anything anywhere as long as it adheres to the rules.

Hi UYS, thank you for pointing out the misses, I appreciate it so much!
Now this poem will be edited, defeating the purpose of this thread.

But since it's Valentine I hope you'd still find the poem somewhat romantic

 

[CucumberLemonade]

NEVERLAND
(Rhythmic poem at 4 syllables per line)

It's you, I dreamed,
Two days, it seemed.

Undressed, you came,
Without a shame

To Neverland,
We charged unplanned.

Our fantasies,
They'll never cease.

Instead, fulfilled,
We sure got thrilled.

And even if,
We jumped off cliffs.

I still didn't fear,
Since you were here.

With our hands latched,
And our hearts, snatched,

We strode the land,
Without demands.

Courage I took,
Undid my hook.

All left, removed.
You stared, didn't move.

My hair, let down,
You looked, I drowned.

You pulled my hand,
To you, I land.

Locked in your arms,
No one can harm.

We stared then kissed,
Oh such a bliss!

In this leisure,
We found pleasure.

We never stopped,
Till we both popped.

Harder, we grind.
Juices combined.

Sweaty, sticky,
Not a quickie.

Our bodies tired,
For what transpired.

Mind's sedated,
Both elated.

We cuddled more,
To deep slumber.

We cared the less,
Our nakedness.

Let the land see,
That we're both free!

Until I woke...
Found all's a joke.

It's just a dream...
That's what it seemed.

021419
© CucumberLemonade ©Poetess ©AD/CL

​

 

[Tzara]

Blocked

On my desk
is a clock,
and some pens.

The pens urge
me to write.
But I can't.

I have nothing
to say, except
one long apology.

So the pens sit,
and I sit, and
yet I so love you.


.

 

[darkerdreamer]

We read
Faust
Faulkner
John Darnielle.
We're
college sophisticates,
high school cool.
Characters destined
for largess
and writers alike.
Hell burns us
via fire
or fame
or infamy
or infidelity
or salinity

or fraud.

 

[butters]

march magicala



there's plenty of Alakazam!
skies light up in flash-frame
booms of clabrous vivacity
the acrid scent of ozone
perhaps to herald in
something more magical
than day after day after day
of torrential rain

suck it up you choking drains
you wading plants and trees and
soggy animals alike
bright days and tepid nights
wait in the wings
daylight shows mirrors everywhere
if not the smoke

edit: if not the smoke
becomes
low-hanging smoke

 

[HarryHill]

march magicala



there's plenty of Alakazam!
skies light up in flash-frame
booms of clabrous vivacity
the acrid scent of ozone
perhaps to herald in
something more magical
than day after day after day
of torrential rain

suck it up you choking drains
you wading plants and trees and
soggy animals alike
bright days and tepid nights
wait in the wings
daylight shows mirrors everywhere
if not the smoke

..
Oh snap, my jive biscuit girl

 

[butters]

given the 'smokiness' of our surrounding woodland, that last line probably needs changing

 

[HarryHill]

on writing while getting a brush job

Take it down, take it down,
sweaty locks three days bound,
snarl and tear, slick and wet