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onlylovepoetry Jun 2019
head to toe kissing


I   the mundane

moonlight madnesses, a possessive noun,
commissions gravitational pulls that disobey and obey
laws of interstellar loving. The antique modalities once and forever, forever laying still, stilled in places of antiquities and historical need, are thundershower and hail rudely reawakened, the undertow of
pull and push, the yanking hands  of need for others, for others,
it’s the explosive-knowledge, the opening of the old kitbag of perpetual principles, that crazy head to toe kissing is no less necessary, more so, than the computation of the total breaths mundane, unnoticed even now as I write of them, that we will count from that very first, in deed, they are one and the same, like the same
kisses given from head to toe

II   the profane

at the first, the body insists, I am but a long haul trailer, no taxi me,
cargo and passengers, are my quatrain accompaniments,
traveling companions boon, my own toons, too soon disembarked,
songs of parents and lovers, children and others, your visage passed
without your permission, but with your happy encouragement,
to generations that will see things that futurists dare not
even mention, but the profane urge to warn them all, kisses from head to toe, elevates, and overcomes...so when most of my names dusted with forgetfulness, lost in the waves, my scorching soft lips will be recalled just as an airy flight of light brushing upon a newborn’s eyelids just at the moment of birth.  A rustling more felt than heard, the ****** and bruised carrying body will sensate and instantly forget, but nonetheless transmit genetically, that the profane of birth and life renewing can be only washed away, when past and future, recalled and recreated, kisses from head to toes, dripping with softening saltwater tears, a chemical organic reagent of creation,
inside the histories of head to toe kissing

III  the insane

so when, somewhere, some place, a man’s body prepares  
tous ses adieux, his memory foolishly sane and strong,
his wasted paper bag container ship, rust bucketed,
crinkled and wrinkled, skin folding in on itself, hanging to bones
by stretched sinews and tendons that no longer tend to business,
loosened and gangly, they hang on barely to the bare nakedness of
evolutionary processes, mostly not, offset, by the tenderizing effects of kisses, from invisible attendees,  unconscious they,
willingly and unwillingly, offering farewells in actuality...
head to toes, noses to belly buttons, tatted, tattered, and still tasted by dying cells.  It’s insane to think it’s even possible  one retains each and all, but he does, those few given, those few  millions he gave away for cheap belly laughs and poems, decade upon decade accumulated are the totality of him, all of them free and sealed in kisses from head to toes
a perfect fare thee well love poem to add to the pastures lying fallow on mountain ranges of kisses from heads to toes...June 3, 2019
PawanTube May 2019
hope that i could explain
what i found
......ur voice,
...... ur eyes,
and the simplicity
it all just dig mah heart
You would never love yourself a half as much as I

your eyes when i looked into them,
sinking on the depth
your name,when its been called out
the smile.....ooh plz would u again


when you appeared by my side
my heart got insane....like  a ferrari

your Picture in my mind...continue readin'
always be thinkin' of you
Every single day I missed you,
missed you when I can't sleep
missed you when i can't eat
missed you in mah front seat
hoping, you are seating beside by me


you are  the only one
that i'm in.........with
and You ought to know by now how much I love you
My heart made up the way that how I feel
Growing stronger day by day
I can't stop this
I.m insane n i lost mah mind


you're my sun,you're my moon,you're my star
you're the first'you are the last.
andy my everything.
you're my reality not a expectation.


I've spent couple of weeks
to  come closer
On a search to find you
way to communicate you
but no whispers...like a silent planet
Yet my heart is hoping for you
Anastasia May 2019
hello
i said
to man underneath my bed
hello
i said
to the voices in my head
hello
i said
to the body in the shower
hello
i said
at the witching hour
hello
i said
to the maggots in rotting flesh
hello
i said
to cuts still fresh
goodbye
i said
to a mind, almost dead
im not actually that bad, u kno
Amaris May 2019
I can fake a smile to the unconcerned
But feel myself break down when asked
I’m so angry I’m driving myself insane
I try to distract myself with lists of tasks
I watch life progress without me
Can’t seem to match the pace
No matter how my speed increases
There’s no way I’m winning this race
I’m treading water, head barely afloat
While I watch everyone else coast by
Why does nothing I do seem to matter
I’m losing my motivation to even try
teni May 2019
douse me in gasoline,
the liquid to fuel my passion.
strike a match upon my skin,
ignite the flame that was once within me.
warm me up,
feeling cold is getting old.
a poem about experiencing writers block, how ironic.
Jenna Apr 2019
They tease and compel
Devouring into my ill eyes
Lurking beneath the wilting yellow
Murky black blends in with the night
She taunts in the lightness of the day

This bed dips a bit lower every day
In disturbed curiosity and jealousy
Goading a reaction of plea  
Staring in unadulterated penance  
Wellness improving with each interaction

Greedy to drink in the color
Eyes feast upon them
Dancing slyly in sync
Dripping in need and want
One waits to dance in my head

These chains are finally unlocked
Feet find purchase of the cold flat floor
Only exuberating the ugly drug
To tear the flesh of yellow off her skin
All the while, in a manic spree of glee
This is for my final project in my class. It is based off The Yellow Wallpaper by Gilman. I would appreciate any critiques on it and any comments even if you have not read it before. Thanks!
Poetress2 Apr 2019
When she was but a child,
she built a man-made shell;
And there she would retreat,
on her many trips to Hell.
~
No animosity or strife,
did ever reside there;
She was at peace within it,
no expectations or cares.
~
She felt peaceful and secure,
as she rid herself of the Beast;
Who tortured her, every night,
before she went to sleep.
~
There was no chance for escaping,
for it came without a sound;
And in the quiet of the night,
her teardrops hit the ground.
~
At least she had her tomb,
a place where no one came;
If not for her safe place to hide,
she might have gone insane!
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