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Category Archives: Poetry

Ice

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I don’t know where you go when you disappear

I don’t know what to do to bring you back

When you shut the world away

And bang the door on my face

 

You’re an emotional roller-coaster

The ups and downs all too familiar

I don’t know if I have the strength

Or the courage to take this ride

 

You are an open book

Written in braille

And I’m sorry I was never good

At deciphering ciphers

 

I try my best to be close

But when that ice-cube in your heart

Turns you cold

I realize I’m not ready to freeze

 

Your walls have been hard to climb

But somehow I got to the top

And just when I thought i was over the ledge

I found yet another layer

 

Why don’t you let me know

If this ride is worth my time?

If I should study braille

Or just shut this book and walk away?

 

Why don’t you let me know

If the ice in your veins

Will thaw into love

Hypothermia is real,luv

 
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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Muse, Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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Fantasy

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I can feel your eyes

Drilling a hole at the back of my head

My skin is flush

From the desire you awaken

 

I can feel your eyes

Caressing my curves

Turning me upside down

Spilling my emotions on the sidewalk

 

I can feel your breathe

Raising the hairs on my body

Making my blood rush all over

Getting my knees weak

 

I can sense your intentions

Wrapping themselves on my breasts

And my nipples are hardened

With a raw yearning and naked want

 

My imagination is a mess

At the hint of your scent

Driving me over the edge

As fantasy collides with reality

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 3, 2017 in Poetry, Uncategorized, Women

 

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Women

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I love women. I am fascinated by everything female. From the way they walk to the way they slump after dragging and gyrating their hips on a  particularly long day. From the way they laugh to the way they cry when they get emotionally overwhelmed. From the way they are warm to the way they turn to ice queens as a defense mechanism against the world.

I love women. I love their forms and shapes. Their curves and gaits. I’m mostly intrigued by the arc in their backs. I find myself drawn to this particular curve. I love to watch a woman walk. To drink in the magic that is in their gait. From those who strut like they were born straight into the catwalk to those who stumble with the grace of a drunk gazelle. You gotta give it to them for trying though. It’s both beautiful and amusing.

I love women. I am taken in by the way they experience everything in a storm. The anger in their eyes when betrayed is almost poetic. The rage of a woman awakened is almost like the force of a hurricane. Explains why hurricanes are named after them. It’s beautiful to watch, just as long as it isn’t directed  your way. And when they decide to give you the cold shoulder…well, they do everything in equal force and enthusiasm.

I love women. The way they care for their families. The way they keep the kids in a straight line as the husband is off working or trying to find a cure in the bottom of a bottle. I like the way they put on a brave face for the kids despite the fact that they are going through hell. I love how they shrug off and tuck away their dreams to put their children first.

I love women. I love them for their strengths and weaknesses. I love them for their beauty and selflessness. I love them for all the right and wrong reasons.

 
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Posted by on July 23, 2015 in Poetry, Writing

 

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Beautiful disaster

beautiful disaster

I’d like to write you a poem
To describe your lips and eyes
To describe how you make me feel
To describe your scent

But words evade me
And the rhythm is off
As my beating heart flutters
Beneath the touch of your finger

The sky seems bluer today
It must be the sound of your voice
Twisting me into a ball of desire
As your words caress me whole

And i have a feeling we are gonna win
Despite the scruples and fights
And your eyes are a deep pool
That have me swimming endlessly

I’ll take you down the road
The winding paths of passion
Maybe we can find love or lust
Though i might settle for a taste of you

And when you look at me like that
I find it hard to breath
And my legs turn to jelly
As the rhythm of your heartbeat
Melts me into mush

And your arms are inviting
Despite your sullen face
And my lips want to graze yours
In a heated debate of blatant desire

And your touch sets me on fire
Your musky scent a perfect distraction
It’s an emotional roller-coaster
And the sky is so damn blue

Your name on my lips
Is the only aphrodisiac
And i hope you are listening
As i sing out my soul you

My mind is on a trip
And my fingers wanna rake deep contours down your back
And leave a trail of myself
A tattoo of beautiful disaster

I hope you don’t mind
I can’t write you a poem
but i’ll take you down the winding paths
twisting in a reckless abandon of desire
the beat of our hearts a muddled frenzy

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2015 in Erotica, Muse, Poetry

 

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Recycled Muse

muse

i see you now
clad in arrogance
in the tilt of your chin
and the way you hold your head

i can see you
drenched in lasciviousness
winking at anything that moves
making catcalls at the nuns

you keep glancing my way
in case i miss the show
but you and i know
i couldn’t give a fuck less

so you pick out my friend
hoping i’ll be shattered
but darling it’s your call
wherever you decide to stick it

and i remember the promises
made at the heat of passion
to forever stick by me
and i can’t help but laugh

see the thing is
i’ve been hurt before
i finally grew numb
to pain and betrayal

so juggle it darling
the pride and arrogance
you look like a circus clown
but heck, to each his own

the tilt of you chin
no longer appeals to me
and the timbre of your voice
is like nails on my ears

i guess what i’m trying to say is
you can’t inspire me for a poem
since i found a new muse
and i couldn’t recycle you if i wanted to

Photo: stolen from pinterest

 
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Posted by on March 18, 2015 in Muse, Poetry

 

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Canvas affair

painter

Paint me right now, darling
As I stand in your studio apartment
Freezing to my bones
As the coffee-pot hums

Put me on your canvas
Right this moment goddammit
Don’t wait for me to become
Another significant moment you’ll recollect

Do it now
Make a portrait of me
With your smoldering cigarette between your lips
And your tousled hair the perfect distraction

What’s stopping you lover-boy?
Or do you live for memories?
For recollections and regrets?
Turned into a bunch of colors?

Or do you live for flash-backs?
To recall the almost perfect moments?
Slipping right through your arms?
And dripping into canvas?

Paint my rage and dismay
My lust and desire
My love and hate
Paint my passion

I refuse to become a memory
You’ll revisit when inspiration fails you
The anger that fuels you on
The muse you ache for

I want you to spread my contours on canvas
Mould me in perfect strokes
Touch me up delicately
Till am but a web of fine details

I want you to tease my image with that brush
Gently into canvas
Or you can use your pent-up rage
To create a swirling masterpiece

Whatever you do…I want you to do it this minute

Photo: Stolen from Pinterest

 
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Posted by on March 18, 2015 in Muse, Poetry

 

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Finding it hard to ignore

last

Am finding it hard to ignore
The things i want to do to you
I’m finding it hard to hide
The way i want you

The rhythm is just right
And when you move your ass like that
I find it hard to keep my hands off
Stirring the devil within

I’m twisting and melting
Then you smile
And i burst in the seams
And the sway is just right

The waves move just perfect
When your peaks are taut
And my heartbeat is a mess
In sequence to the juggle of your perky breasts

You are naked
And i am watching the mirror
To catch a glimpse of you
And it jolts me to the core

It’s not my fault
You are naked
And i am perverted
Wicked even

Am finding it hard to ignore
The things i want to do to you
I’m finding it hard to hide
The way i want you

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2015 in Erotica, Muse, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

 

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