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if love grins
and sinks its fangs into my heart
perhaps I would let it

if love paints my lips
maroon when it kisses
perhaps I would let it

if love wraps its arms
around me in a suffocating embrace
perhaps I would let it

for if love was to forsake
nothing but scars and wounds
perhaps I would still call it holy

and if love leaves
as quietly as it came
perhaps I would still call it love.
it was real—at least, it was to me.
 Jun 2 Travis Green
minx
he's sitting in his desk chair
the comforting, quiet drone
filling the quiet of the early morning
the air was cool, albeit, carrying the faint scent
of stale coffee and sterile cleanliness

he didn't dislike his job.
this morning, however
was disrupted by a slow, almost languid pace
his stack of files remained stubbornly untouched,
his mind is captive to forbidden territories.

he pictured his little girl
in the soft light of her bedroom
the curve of her bare back as she stretched
a kittenish grace that belied
the sinful paths his thoughts were ravenously pursuing.

a jolt of
pure
illicit desire
shot through him
leaving a tight feeling in his groin, which was unwelcome and undeniable.

he imagines kneeling between her thighs
the warmth radiating from her flushed skin as she slowly awoke.
his fantasy plunged with a dizzying intensity
to the slick, swollen flesh
still damp with the essence of her own wet dreams.

the idea became vivid, tactile
an experience engaging all of his senses.
he imagined the delicate sounds she would make--
the soft mewls escalating into desperate whimpers
as his tongue relentlessly explored her most sensitive places.
piece two

WHERE ANGELS FALL.

piece : SWEET TREAT

(this is my work, based on a coarse and heavy hearted narrative i wrote. based on true events ! ha.. haha...)

[it's also why the dude in my banner photo is sitting in the gothic cathedral. you're welcome for that visual.]
 Feb 2022 Travis Green
Chandra S
"Dim light please",
I softly wheeze,
as you seductively tease
the nape of my neck
and I sensuously shudder
in my fleshly hearth.

Playfully,
I break away
as my heart sways
in a hitherto unknown desire....
a desire;
that took its time coming
and which is now ablaze
in your eyes so scintillating
that it makes me skip
an already fluttery heart-beat.

You proceed gently
and speak softly
about my mischievous smile,
my expressive eyes,
the curve of my lip,
...... my shapely hip.......

You stroke my hair
with ardent flair
and I listen blithely
to your unfeigned oratory
about a man's intensity,
...his unbridled frenzy.

I hearken reverently
to your admission of piety
and pledge you my fidelity
as long as there is light
in my impractical, dreamy eyes.

As we submit
to the fiery delight
I finally see
beyond the crevice of duality;
into my integrated embodiment
of anatomy and sentiment;
...that I am
and always was
a unique, solitary singularity.
Her
The dark dance calls softly,
like Night Shade or Oleander.
Just a little taste...
Just one more slow waltz...
I can smell her
wet orchid while I sleep.
She moves languidly through
my dreams, possesses me at dawn
with lambent steps.
The love is violent, like a bullfight.
It's sweet and treacherous, ferocious.
Fatal for one of us;
and she's been gored.
The darkness calls, there is an attraction to chaos and failed love.
Our life lives inside
her.
My walnut haired angel;
my freckled dreamer.
She's swollen and sensual;
beautiful beyond spring.
Far above the ocean's light.
I want to take her to
a meadow and make
love to her with the
breeze and sparrows watching.
I want to taste the
sticky sweet dew on her
thighs, and wake up next
to her for the rest
of my life.
Love is Grand
Debauched nights, destruction waning,
There is a twisted pull to the underbelly.
Chaos is ****, like silk stockings and
Bonnie an Clyde.
I can smell it a mile away,
like a dog in heat.
It lures me from the
safety of my sweet calm life.
There is an existence beyond
the bridge, but it's boring and soulless.
I want to ****** the light, and
the routine.  Dredge the marrow
from the bone
As I wrote this, I thought about Charles Bukowski, and the pull to the wild side of life.
Let me be a drop
of monsoon rain
Let me feel your lips
once again.

This love of your
green shyness
makes me alive
from loneliness.

Let me forget the pain
of drought
Let me be with you
just to get wet.

Your dancing barefoot
in raindrops
makes my eyes cool
and fills my hopes.

Let me be your
mountain shower
Let me flow down
in your deep river.

This bride of clouds
and lightning flash
means, it's going to rain
to make nature fresh.
I would better go home
where lives my mom,
I miss my green village
there I find my early age.
Let me go home betimes
I'm dying for my mom!

Oh, fresh morning breeze,
Make my friends happy
I will join them soon
at the river bank bridge.
Oh, busy city streets,
Lemme walk to the way of home!

I'm thirsty of freshwater;
I'm looking for the river
where I swam earlier
with boundless pleasure.
I want to be lost in the grove
where wild birds have freedom.

Oh, my heavenly village
I wish your morning flower
I'd talk in my local language
like the villagers do forever.
Let me walk on dewy grass
by the growing farm.

Let me go back home
My dreams live there
Let me meet my mom
who gave me nature.
Let me go there early
where I am from!
Do you still read my poems?
Do you still think of my words?
Do you still walk alone in silky hair?
Do you still talk with a sweet smile?
I still miss you with tears in my eyes.
Your love still wakes up in my heart!

Do you still enjoy the morning rays?
Do you still paint the evening sight?
Do you still sing in the tune I did?
Do you still dance barefoot?
I cry for you and I blame myself;
I still have pain from your departure!

How beautiful the dewy mornings were with you
by wrapping us together hidden in a shawl!
How sweet the spring afternoons were with you
by breaking every bond in love!
Maybe raindrops make your shiny face shy
and my thirst still sips your drawn love.
I can't think of your sudden separation!
BE
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