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WS Warner Nov 2013
Part One
Nascent Craving

The insular heart unsealed; pearled eyes
Breach parapets of stone— periled shield,
The sweetest ****—
A threatening wonder and irrefragable synergy,
Nervous routes of cognition  
In this nascent, amorous craving.
Locked and abased,
Dissonance lends pathos — euphoric and onerous,
Disconsolate cries curb sublimation,
The regnant bleed diffusing — fervid lust
Fondled, tactile surfaces in throbbing anticipation.

Sullen, aft a veil of laughter,
Visceral aftermath, out of
The ardent ash,
Burns a thirst;
Insuperable numbness and ache.
Efflorescent intimacy,
Table for two
Enraptured in new alliance,
Élan vital (psyche);
Urgent dialect petitions
Equivocation, jocularity blending
Provocation with indecision,
Noted lilt of descending inhibition.

Adrift, the incessant Now;
As occasion inexorably diminished;
Resonant simpatico tending,
Numinous amity;
Heard conversant, cognitive idioms—
Lassitude, time-eaten pangs of the unhinged heart,
Wounds axiomatic,
In disquieting synergy,
Nibbling, the circumference—
Misery’s permeating truth;
None immune, all trundle incongruously past,
Facing intrepid savages.

Licitly felt, reverberations of Amor
Whence the heart behaves;
Measured cadence, pulse elevating—
Treasured lover, contemplative muse;
Undulating clasp, inflated bone of absence;
Incarnation — a woman,
Beyond prosaic;
Ineffable adoration pours in certitudes of verse,
Elenita, enclothed —virtue unvarnished;
Reservoir intrinsic, poised advocate of the innocent:
The crooked lines of insolence,
Brazen culture of neglected youth.
Perceptive blue stare, sensitized tears—
Plaintively, evincing her injustice ago.

Part Two
Tendered Senses

Siren silence, eruptive blush, ampler between phrases
In dulcet tones — stirring discourse;
Foments rebellion, the strife beneath— his ****,
Out of its vast reserve,
Penetrate the narrowed ambit, vaguely announced.
Groping hands, migrating the sensual member
Stern faces grimacing— mirror in abrasion,
Under the blind surf of consent;
Burrowing ambiguity, emerging torsion,
Plunge, enlisted and content in the sea;
Subsumed in the nonverbal cue,
Persuasion’s plea,
Quelled in the post cerebral assent.

Piercing eyes parallel crystalline waters of Lake Tahoe.

An untouched portion of his awareness remains aloof,
Palpable in the subsequential quiet,
Obsequious and febrile, they sinned on sofas;
Peregrine predilections quenched and viscid—
Serenely requited, the room breathes her presence,
Limp, figures *******, mantled in adolescent torpor.

Erudition in bloom, trust undoubted,
Illuminating, satiating; tempest calm—
Under canvas
Terrain soaked and sodden,
Postliminary — rains of invalidation.
Allowance and permission
Recalibrate, salivate, shortly only—
Initiate, obliged consecration, appraising
Curvatures of the spine,
Stuns him obeisant, her femenine pulchritude,
Propinquity inciting vigor,
Emergent allure, the updriven
Tower of wood sprung from the blanket.


Suffused in ether, purring streams of remembrance
Vaginal honeyed dew, sung into
Orchids, remnants of remember;
Drenched down the cynosure of devotion;
Succulent view, diaphanous pantied bottom;
Halcyon mist, saporous wine — compliance of the will,
Freed fires wander,
Pliable rind, twin plums dripping,
Abject confession, dispatching doubt
In tendered senses,
Pivotal tree, lavender Jacaranda holds the key,
Unfurled, cindered vulnerability.

Half-denuded skin invites confessional savor
Acutely bubbled rear, fleshly furnished denim;
Sultry visit, San Ramon Valley in the fall,
Strewed limbs splendid, flowing filmy;
Imagination yields—
Bursting silk congealed
Across deft thighs, ambrosial thong draping ankles,
Grazing ascension, the curvaceous trajectory
Nose inflamed with fragrance,
Inhaling, climb of acquiescence,
The ****** weal, amid the globed fruit,
Focal intention — ploughed lance thrusting,
Absconding, the ancillary perfume of essence.

Perceiving avid validation,
Swimmingly, amid the monstrous gaze.
  
Humid skies simper dank, set swell the incense of Eros,
Surge of poetry engorged
The flame levened shaft,
Nimble ******* flounce, spill the harboring mouth;
Moist hands merging, unfettered,
Weave in supplication,
Vicinity voicing, enmeshed diversion;
Supple and spherical behind
Posterior arch, milky-skin against the lip—
Ripeness jostling their complacency;
Lapped the mooring, ridden decisively;
Recapitulating— spumed forth, bellied over hips warmth.
Abandon the dirge of self-pity
Late under ego’s trance.
  
Part Three
Present Tenses

Tempting trespass across sacred gardens,
Flowering, scandal set luminous: attachment—
Consensual, their corresponsive fear;
Protean manifestations— evocative, perpetual
Unutterable contention in a fictive resolve,
Deliberating the merits of their widely disparate tastes in coffee,
Amorously touring wine, let’s drowse through the gnarled vine.
Sundry deficiencies pale, once contrasted;
The beatific vision—
Material substance unaccompanied,
Imperceptible, tear-streamed cheeks in synch,
Ventral kiss, peak of carnal perfection,
Reminiscence— flesh violent with Love.

Fiction knew to meander the innominate rift,
A tincture of irony soften misdeeds
Immense as the sea.
Insolvent beast stippled with sapience—
Unmasked, the fabric of delusion;
Dependence smothering the disciplined heart
Resentment put up for release.

Waste of residual years
Fate’s apportion, scars bleakly observed;
Chastened by heartache, engulfing fervor
Too faint to recapture.
Vague glimpses dry—
Hypervigilant his defenses,
Veritable suspensions, embers lit linger;
Slender walls of solidity, the horizoned self,
Faith and reason in concert — stone levels of elucidation.

Fractured bones of distance, emanate a rigid salience,
Another ponderous night of absence—
Lingering, cauldron of dearth as indifference ushers,
The quotidian coil of contrition.
Tearful pallor, sequestered —ciphering time and solitude;
The unkissed mouth, his restive brow;
Suspend in the approximate span.
                      
After Lucid alliterations are spoken
Devoid of her face, his lover’s nudge—
The man nurtures his hurt.

Anxious as seldom unscarred,  
Venus’s susurrations,
In present tenses,
Kissed by her serenades of integration—
Notwithstanding metaphysic intrusion,
No chain stays unbroken,
Postponed drifts of deferment left unspoken,
Reverberations of amor.

© 2013 W. S. Warner
To Eileen
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2017
oh god, oh god! that dump felt: just about as good as a zeppelin droping bombs over london... i managed to feel a vindaloo up my **** at the end of it! magic.

ever heard of huskies?
                                                                             no?
        my godmother is a huskie...
she's a doctor, she sometimes didn't shave
her legs: or that was my initial bewilderment
when i was playing video games
i.e. *porsche challenge
on PS1...
and that's donkey's years ago...
        but she was a huskie...
                       she was a woman with a deep
voice...
                  but this is in another culture
and i'm sitting here, watching western culture
and thinking: well **** me! no problem
with the genital removals...
   but who the **** is going to reconstruct your
jaw-line?
                you can't fake a femenine jaw
from a man's jaw... nor the hands...
     that's why i sometimes think my **** is
tiny... but then i can hold a basketball in one hand,
that means: pick it up with one hand...
   that's why i always said... the sexiest part
of a woman's body? her hand(s).
           i can't believe i'm going to name these
people, but given my godmother's husky voice
i think i should... on a matter of principle:
and yeah, i sometimes speak like i've been castrated,
even though i smoke tobacco my voice should
be deep... all the time... i sometimes resonate:
like an angel... when i'm being pretty pretty, nice;
   how the **** are you going to reconstruct
the jaw so that i don't think you are?
                      self-conscious about your larynx?
that's not even sad, that's prompt for: me being
inquisitive... given my godmother (the doctor)
who spoke like she spoke...
                                 em... chloe arden?
    what the **** is this huskie playing at?
               blaire white... oh 'ere we go, another huskie...
i'm not laughing... you look into those eyes
and you know something is a "tad" bit iffy...
            i get it... you think you sound like a "man"
sometimes... and i get it: i sometimes sound like
i've been licked in the ***** by a karate kick...
    and that has happened to me one...
            i was doing this course in some specific
interest area... and i was signalled out
  because i wasn't shouting when i was moving forward
doing kick! chop! kick! chop! ha! ya(h)!
                    sensai was away, and this white geek
took over the class... he said: you have to shout
while moving! i was like: no...
           what the hell does he do? kicks me in the *****...
clap clap... well done you ******* ******.
          you don't do that sort of thing in boxing
for ****'s sake... that's a no go zone...
             if he even gained a black belt in the art...
he'd be excomunnicated there and then...
                             you a ******* woman or something?
*****.
                 yeah, i realised that, i have this delay
button... something happened to me 15 years ago
and i'm only writing about it now... it's a bit like Proust
on stereoids... i'm not gay enough to remember
eating: that "special" macaroon.
   like i said:
         these girls are huskies...
                         i know because my godmother
is a husky...
                               it's self-consciousness in the extreme...
get kicked in the ***** and you'll start wearing
post- / anti- transgender spectacles...
        no matter what you tell me... that jaw line and
those plump cheeks with the missing cheek bones
that's characteristic of women... mmm...
             you have a better magic trick? 'cos'
this one isn't working on me (ref. the two stated examples);
o.k., and my godmother.
Karijinbba May 2019
Men come easy but few dear get closer extracting beauty
from my beast.
Men often ask me how come I chose to be unmarried for so long why so cellective
I tell them most men do the same mistake they are attracted to my light smily eyes and cute plump femenine shape and never fail to see me as tishue paper meat to satiate some pure carnal need most disregard my pristine womanly motherly wifely
innate nature my spirit soul

i am not just a mule who anyman can mount harness lead walk and run mounted onto without accountability
nor to fill mans grassy other needing wear without genuine commitment to then just leave my heart behind used broken having lost time effort physical inand mental piece of mind

Many other women in this city this country are just a body to be used "no strings attached!." in other words "no love" nor loving commited relationship intended!

I can't for the life of me sucumb to such shallow tribial macho pass time
diseases can become
a lifetime burden
I am not willing to drag with me stds as companions.
Solitude is my bittersweet virtue my passion is my physical and mental health my family and writing primordial to staying alife family matters most to me.
not competing with other women for a user male in trivial heat
like dogs in hormonal instinctual ****** vices bluntly said;
I am no ***** for no dog in heat. Naturally I was open to reign Queen for one King of hearts only once upon a time knowing charm grace in his kingdom beauty-rest mattress-master bedroom, the utter boredom of married life, respectability the old folks the exquizite blessed joy of precious children to cherish protect and adore but those don't exist in my
late neighborhoods they call single mothers strugling alone like i did"disfunctional family, without a father figure!"
but no father was better to my kids existed certainly not the  seeder sadist psychoath poisoner greek human trafficant  nor second one ******* user impotent who couldn't control his forced emissions wasn't better then my Motherly Kali's instincts my single protective motherhood was best.
I was better father-Mom in my daughters case.

the worst city for love and marriage to last on earth or
to raise children who won't treasure single divorced motherhood sacrifices is here Hollywood California.

Better is Houston Kemah Texas in USA England, Ireland India owning family values good marriages non greedy men children grow up better there because school friends
are rooted healthier at home
respecting family bonds
unity unbreakable is the key.

"A house divided by itself cannot stand, it will utterlly be destroyed says  "The holy book" and its true in my world.
~~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved
{Revised again 06/11/19}
thanks for reading
liking, loving
or just flying by over
my field of dreams
lovely butterflies
~~~
Beautiful women single Moms divorcees battered wives Texas offers successful attainment of new husband with old fashion values perhaps England Ireland but its all over for me
love marruage joy has pass me by me like a photom of light streaming tgrough space and briefly missed here on H P.
Livingdeadgirl Jan 2015
Listening to my 14 yr old bro singing amnesia at the top of his lungs. I can hear him jumping and dancing (to watch him dance is like never being able to breathe, well it is, you'd be laughing to hard) and listening to my 12yr old bro laugh loudly. I need to get out of here, oh boy my 14yr old bro just fell from trying to put his foot in the freezer again. (You'd think he woulda learned by now) and anyway, don't ask why, he doesn't even know why he does it, he just does.
Best part is, when he meets my friends, they always ask me" is he gay?" I have to keep from laughing until I can reply "Yeah, how'd you guess?" He shows who he is fully and truly.........…… my brother who's more femenine than me and broke approximately 3900 girls hearts. (Girls love my bro, and he used to have 25 gfs at a time at the same time, they knew each other and knew about each other. We also moved a lot, last count was 30 schools, almost 190 times, not even certain anymore.) He's now complaining he can't slam his own door right, as he opens the door to slam it for the third time......... Someone, help I'm already crazy, and I need out!!!!!!!!!!! Roflmao!
Why can't I get a girl?
Talk about a girl?
Be in that swirl?
Let my boyness unswirl?
Why do I kind of act femenine?
Why can't I relate?
What is my fate?
I have already figured it out.
I have figured out myself.
It is to to stop waiting.
No more being an overgrown sprout.
I have to change.
I can meet anyone like me,
That isn't good,
I can't fight me,
I cannot right me,
Or write me,
What I see,
In the ocean blue,
A cloud running out of view,
I know how you feel,
I am talking to myself,
I am mentally unstable,
I need help.
Even the truest emotions I show,
Are not true,
I don't care,
What are you,
Be whatever,
Just not biast,
And if your not likable,
Don't be a denialist,
I am sorry,
Say that enough for a ferrari,
Why can't I,
Have the muscle,
Have the heart,
Have the brain,
Have the whole cart,
Why is everyone else,
So much better than me?
I wonder this,
Yet it is so clear to see....
Why can't I.
I don't have any truly likable traits.  I don't show some of my true emotions, and I need to get over myself.  A lot of times, I wish for a fresh start.  But that won't come.

— The End —