not so wholesome

written at the height of being smitten by a girl and massive influence of sexual urges...

She Brings To Mind

She reminds me of satin sheets
Rose petals on the pillows
On the bed and on the floor
Of a hazy dreamlike vision
The dim image of that suggestive room
The eyes caressed by that toned down light;
Somehow jealous of what's in sight
The carefree flirtation of dark and candlelight

My sight roams
From her face to her neck
Down towards the exposed area
Of the valley between her chest
I see myself drawing nearer
My soles feeling the cold floor
Yet the body goes warner, warmer
As my breath goes closer, closer
Till my hand reaches out
Tracing the outline from her cheek to her ear

My heart sighs at her beauty
The dark room and her round eyes
My palm on her curly locks
My lips on her ear, relishing the scent
The aroma of a woman, of her fair sex
That maddening giggle, that sensual smile
And I feel the pang of hunger;
I want to eat her whole, her body, her soul
It kept ringing in my head like a song
I want to eat her whole, her body, her soul

29 April 2007

on a roll... not for minors

quite x rated, I think. whatever

Once More, Then Again

Lying down in bed
Saturated by her scent and sweat
Catching our breath, her body on my chest
I can still feel it, her moist, her warmth
I can still hear it, her moans and her grunts
Her breath warm on my shoulders
As my hand strokes her neck, her back, and her butt
My legs feel the smoothness of her thighs
Raised my knees to spread them apart
I felt her moist sex upon my thigh
It stirred and it felt her groin,
It's head bristling through the curly hair
And I recall how I forced her legs open
How her breasts to my touch they hardened
How her nipples reacted to my finger's deft
How to my tongue her floodgates gushed wide open
And I pushed it in, ramming at the gates
Deep, and deeper, slithering within
Exploring, devouring, conquering
All these images have subdued my head;
Driven wild by her woman's scent
So I rolled to my side, pushed her on the bed
Pinned her down and made her mine again...
Again...again...and again.

1 May 2007

Women, huh?

it's just that these creatures have such a power over us...

The World Crumbles When She Frowns

I'm not smart so I call it magic.
The world crumbles when she frowns
Strange but true.
The world crumbles when she frowns
It's a tumor.
Grows silently, unnoticed
Just a pain here and there
So easy to miss, ignore, dismiss.
As it's wont, it grows, mutates
Seeing it always too late,
Terminal is the final diagnosis
You're a goner, you're dead.
Bye-bye to the old days.
You're reborn as a slave.
Rebellious, no doubt
Yet still bound in chains
Like a priest who watches porn
A smoker claiming to quit
It's like rape
Eventually her legs will spread
Sooner or later
His ass will break
Which, when done long enough
Will surely get to like it
There's just no doin'
You'll be hooked all the same
You'll be a whore for her smile
And feel like one if she did not,
Dirty, depressed and defaced
Your worth hangs
On the lines of her brow
And the shape of her mouth
You'll be as proud as a dog
Who eats it's own vomit;
You're lost to man forever
A new being altogether
Certainly not for the better.
Yet of all beings there is,
Why her?!
Yet it is because of her
You scratch your head,
Shake it side to side,
You cannot help but admit it:
Not so distinct the pain
If the girl is not the same

6 June 2007

so this is going to be a web copy

supposed to be a poem.
for those interested to comment, knock your socks off.

The Boring Cycle (A temporary title )

La, la, la, la, let's all live together! In peace and perfect harmony!
La la la...
Then boom! A bomb goes off
Killing the loud bus to school.
We weep and clench our teeth and fists
Death to the damn bastards!
Kill them all! And so the cycle begins...
Corpses, limbs, blood on the street and floor.
Screams, both of pain and terror
Wails of grief and anger
Violence is the only answer...
When the eyes are out, we go for the teeth
And once done, we go for the limbs,
Then the brother, the sister, the mother the wife
The neighbor, the people with the same voice and stutter
No stopping till they get our eye, then the other
Till out of teeth, they get our brother, mother, lover
We kill because we want to,
Not because we need to
Or we need to, because we want to!
Death to the bastards is our motto
The same goes for our victim's brother,
And it won't stop till we get bored.
It's not because we see right,
It's just that after some time it gets old.
Bang! Death. Boom! Death. Slash! Death.
Death. Cry. Death. Wail. Death. Bitter Pain.
Same cycle. Been there, done that.
Sadly I've lived through it.
It hurts like hell, cried oceans in tears.
Been there done that.
And it's nothing special.
It's no longer fun.
The same old story. It's no longer fun.
There's a limit for old reruns.
So it has to stop.
It just has to stop; it's no longer funny.
Then we go, Damn! Crap!
I forgot I have a brain, what snot!
Ah, then we start to think
See things in a different light
Start to ask, what are we doing?
Then we begin to laugh about it
In a cynical way of course.
What is all this blood for?
Perhaps it's time we need to stop
Then the horror creeps in:
Oh crap! What have we done?!
Blood, guts, limbs and corpses.
Pain, suffering, hunger and tears.
Oh crap! What have we done?!
Yesterday's monkey with a gun
Is my long lost brother now.
We learn to embrace and share our bananas
We learn to sing and dance together:
La la la, let's all live together!
In peace and perfect harmony!
La la la...
But then there's always another monkey
Who has not cried enough.
Not so bored as the rest of them are.
Always someone who had not cried enough
Had not killed enough
And so was not yet bored...
And so we wait for the next 'Boom!'
And a new old game
Would have already begun!
And round we go again, and again.
Till the end of time, God willing.

29 May 2007