http://gotpoetry.com/Forums.html Gotpoetry - News for poets. Place to write. en-us Sat, 07 Nov 2009 11:26:56 GMT 1440 CPG-Nuke Dragonfly GotPoetry.com Forums http://backend.userland.com/rss http://gotpoetry.com/images/autoheader/logo-slogan.gif http://gotpoetry.com/ http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188712.html#188712 http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/redux Sat, 07 Nov 2009 11:26:56 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188711.html#188711 cheers BiP !!-----lash Sat, 07 Nov 2009 11:13:30 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188710.html#188710 Just save it Boy, I don't want to be rude But you should know by now, I don't want to be used I've seen you around And you know it's a shame You've had how many girls? Like it's some kind of game You can save the sob story About how bad your life is That wont inspire me To give you a kiss You spin the lines around, but nothings really changed I won't be the new topic, Another girl you banged This is me walking away Because you're probably diseased Save the "Rejected" comeback We know the slut isn't me I don't care 'who' you are, Truth is you're a whore You've bragged how many times? Of having eight girls or more Your true colors are shown So I won't wish you good luck Please save the "I love you" You just want someone to fuck Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:58:34 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188708.html#188708 This made me chuckle. Very simple, very blunt. Kudos. Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:43:16 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188707.html#188707 Present and future, both so uncertain Hidden behind this thick black curtain I cannot think, but of one thing I'm sure Wrapped in Your arms, I feel secure Arms around me, hold me tight Creating a glow to block out the night Brush Your cheek against my face Sorrow is gone without a trace Your touch so soft, You trace my lips Gently, with Your finger tips Shiver slightly as You touch my skin Ready for a pleasurable sin Lips over mine, You steal my breath Pull me back from the brink of death Kiss me softly, a wonderful taste Slide my arms around Your waist My face in Your neck, breathe in deep Feel the passion start to creep Your gentle touch, so unknown One more kiss, a helpless moan Hand trailing up my side This is something that won't subside Flames building, I feel it stir We both know what will occur I see desire in Your eyes Passion burning, let it rise Forget the world and everything To this love I will cling Thrust into me with reckless abandon Your seed within me, like a fired cannon In a world of wrong, this feels so right Nothing matters but You tonight. Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:39:51 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188706.html#188706 Haha! Oh I loved it!!! Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:03:06 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188705.html#188705 Bad dream! Stop watching so much TV news! My dreams got better after I stopped watching the news. But just kidding, this is a good write... Sat, 07 Nov 2009 05:59:09 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188700.html#188700 look that sssssssscan't breath dead in the eyes.... remember he senses fearsmells it...tastes it shaKing, pale-faced I...can't breath my hand is now defiled ...cut it off i don't want it it can have it Screaming Fearpleassssse...get him off of me that tongue just brushed ...my..skin why do people compare penises to these things not one has made me feel this way Sat, 07 Nov 2009 03:38:05 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188695.html#188695 I think a person's habits change over the years. I am at the age where i need absolute silence except for the noise of a giant almond tree in my backyard. I usually write early in the morning or late at night. If i am working ( i am a pastel portrait artist ) it is hard for me to write. It seems that the two things fight against each other. I believe it takes two different types of discipline to either paint or write. Music and noise always cancels out my thoughts so i don't like either. Stress also cancels out my ability to concentrate on verse (a.d.d.) Also, always sober. I usually write on paper first. There is no logic to it, just habit. sometimes i will write stanzas and make sense of order of placement after. I usually refine my poems on my computer (research topics etc.) before considering them even worthy to post anywhere online. Sat, 07 Nov 2009 03:00:36 GMT http://gotpoetry.com/Forums/viewtopic/p=188694.html#188694 A few tainted leaves, then the wind's firm hand, dead-rolling them by the piles into the opossum's ramshackled sanctuary. Somewhere behind the dying light, a distant dog barks. A larkspur's perfume delivers it all through the thicket's clumsy sieve. There is a pattern of silence hidden within the city's motion. Or maybe it is the motion cloaked by the silence. There is always a crippling effect of each thing as it is singled out. It is like my dying heart in its unadorned lucence transmuting the last of some power. Listening to its engine moving the way it did when it was a machine of reciprosity. When its energy, even late into the winter of life, meant learning the workings of a woman. How unfamiliar its music is now. Its crescendo then its staccato, its rise and ebb on the firmament's crimson chalkboard like musical scale. My figurative organ, held up, singled out, in the dying light of dusk's haloed madonna. I miss it with an unknown longing. Then once again, hidden in the city's low moan, coming from the mortar, the meat in the brick, from the metal cooling in the bellies of the parked cars, from the jagged teeth of its open mouth, all dropforged onto this scrawny truth: The duplexity of being on the verge of love's understanding, yet being grossly ignorant to its language. Sat, 07 Nov 2009 02:41:54 GMT