These words will fail to soothe your aching soul
This voice will not seep through the pores of your grief
take that breath… slowly
Let go, become one with the harmony of blood cursing true art.
Can you hear the sky calling
The ocean singing,
Sirens tearing their hearts in fits of wild symphony
My accent is not from this time
The cadence of her every word leaves a taste that worshiping leafs falling off your diction can only hope to displace
Kisses streaming from these untaught letters
Will not ferry you past reincarnation
Words may not become kisses having been defiled on hymens of broken silence
Life stems from touch of these words fetching sounds translated from…sssshhhhhh…
Kisses do not revere the sacrilege of words,
nor do they pray for vocal chords.
In the beginning was the word
And the word became love
Spoken from a heart, pure and contrite,
Reaching out to a kindred organ
That the Twain shall become one
To beat in unison and strength
Of purpose, passion and love.
In the beginning was the word
Spoken to light up her world.
Stars sparkling in the set of her eyes
Words, evoking smiles on the iron cast face,
Creating images of the garden and fountain
At the back of the house with the pattering
Feet of children drumming around
And a dinning table filled with chairs
And its rightful humans by it.
The word first became a kiss
That this flesh of reality may appear.
Mine though this unshakable mountain hinders.
A sword piercing lips still blunders.
Flash lights, beams and dark hearts
Not exactly as should be played out.
Over counted chips, poker
Play the fool, joker.
Cold lips .
Say it in tune, everything my heart longs to hear
Act it in sync to all my mind wants to feel
And kiss me softly the way my heart wants to heal.
Caress my soul harshly and thrust in deep.
Feels and chills
Drills and pills
Like worn out soles
A replica of me is now my muse.
You are everything and beyond.
Lay them one last time, lemme feel you unified with my existence, these kisses that were once words. Hypermind
Long tea aided chats
Even longer late night calls
The many burnt nights
Then the preceding sleepy days.
The hellos and heys
The I miss yous
The conversations that run out of words
Then the reluctant goodnights
Done a few times
A routine evolved
The carefully thought out poems
Bedeviled by grammatical ditches and typos
Slowly words grew inept
Then the quest to dive deeper depths
The many hours of movie watching
Still not knowing what is on
Attention strayed from the movie
To the electricity building from our held hands
Then late “walk-me-homes”
The welcome prolonged goodnight hugs
The heaving of our closely pressed chest
This time the haunting good nights.
Words grew fewer
Then the realization of her glossed lips;
The little stars in her paralyzing stare;
Then a seed of her lips sown on mine
The wishes that wishes were horses.
Will they solve the odd maths? Tee2emm
So I borrowed the mind of a rabbi
and in the gorges of his heart
I saw a nail growing as a branch
as a vine deep in his thoughts.
The pain holds so much weight
it dragged the curtain of my eyes
I didn’t see the ocean unfold the bed.
I would return to my world
I thought to tell myself.
If he can’t run from mere words
how about a hammer driving a nail
that sits in the backseat of his head?
Jesus said, one of you would betray him
I didn’t think it would end with a kiss
from a fellow Jew whose name could be Jude as we prayed by the tree
that was planted by his death. – Ruddapoet
She knelt down on rough sand
Her eyes fixed on counting her sins
A lover hidden only for the night
She dragged her matrimonial bed to Another’s bosom filled with hot coals
She drank stolen sweet poison
Desire fingered her thoughts
Her legs became puppets
Slowly controlled till she gave in
The sun shone her path to tragedy
As puritans grabbed her
Her lover courted cowardice
Dragged to God
Words turned weapons
Her spilled blood will atone her sins
The puritans were riddled away
The red sand was holy ground
When His words kissed forgiveness into running eternal waters
She lay in his bed
Looking up from his beard
To his dark moderate lips
She often thought to steal a kiss
Unashamedly crushing on his baritone
With words carefully uttered in tune
She’d smile to herself at intervals
Reminiscing the bliss of several arrivals
Never quite could she find a right word
With this loud silence in seeming accord
But in her head she held conversations
And in them, he had anticipations
To hold her tiny torso with a smile
And run his fingers along her lines
He told her how much he wanted her
Or maybe another
This one conversation was a thrill
While her body lay still
He had reached over for a kiss
One that left nothing amiss
Because in those kisses
She wrote a thousand pieces
Savoring every moment
With careful descent
From soft whispers
To several cold shivers
A conversation ensued
With an air half misused
They spoke in reaches
Burning unseen bridges
Closing time from strangers
To seeming long time lovers.
The first time I heard you speak,
Didn’t give my soul into your beats.
Your lines were so perfect,
I could taste juice from them.
Time passed, I denied myself the good life.
I denied myself you, the good wife.
As I stared at My wrinkles,
I heard your words again.
This time it gave me a pet name.
It put an end to the shame.
It left marks on my white garment,
That I became the envy.
Since you are far away, let me kiss your words, let words kiss my flaws.
Yes, I didn’t see the Queen until you came along.
Treated me…a flirt, I respect a little.
My Fetish, you handled. My ways, you fondled,
Till I came down to kiss your feet.
The oil I spilled gave birth to me.
I love your gums, I love your teeth.
I love the tongue you used to count my keen.
I pour my all, open my gene.
I give my soul to your mentality.
Your words are Kisses, your kisses are words. It burnt my imperfections and held me ransom.
So I am asking; why have you licked my salt?
Keep on speaking to my ears, whispering on my lobes.
If this is sin, i’m ready to feed the demons that come with it.
I am like Jezebel , who is termed wicked, but a woman who understands her husband’s countenance.
That’s all I want, to read you from in and out.
Pray with my weapon.
With you I’d watch porn.
Excuse my pun.
I want to hear your heart beating to my naked tune.
Send you nudes just because you kissed my flaws with words.
Words, powerful yet my weakness
I surrender to the Wordsmith! My tattoo is waiting for your lips!
I will read this over and over on the Altar where we’ll one day stand. – Rachel Charles
Do you know how rain falls
In droplets and soothes skin?
The type that turns the earth green;
The same color a first touch brings.
His words; drawn close by distance,
Warmed me up every night,
Covering carefully cold openings,
Before falling asleep by me. Leon
Words were once enough to speak our fragile hearts.
They spoke warmth, hugs, some love and the ever-endearing kiss.
That was then, some long gone moon. Some long forgotten boon.
Now it seems the words we speak are nothing but a dream.
At one time, all it took were words to get us past cloud nine.
The tongue of smile and eye and hand were so sweet, we was fly.
One look across the crowded room detailed a hundred pages.
And that one kiss, boom! Bright light! Bomb! My heart’s a million pieces.
Pieces that those self-same words picked up to make collages.
I became me. The ‘me’, I knew I gladly traded for this
And somewhere there by being new, a truer you emerges.
Then one cold God-forsaken night the winter’s chill broke in.
By the morn you gave your love in hurried, horrid doses.
The torrid scenes leap up like bush-fires licking up love in their wake.
No warmth to hold to through the day. Just burns and cruel blisters.
Love poured in empty rations that saw no one through the day.
Our cravings went ‘unsated’. No bright flames to light the day.
The words we spoke were icy daggers thrust through dying hearts.
Where once were kisses, words turned thumps, cruel elbow, rain of punches.
The kiss lay desecrated, fallen into muck and mire.
No call to what lay inside, mere pleasure, nothing more.
No touch, no hug, without strings, our trysts had lost their ring.
Let’s have no more of meager fare. Let’s talk. Let’s fix the kiss,
The place where words and actions meet, where words become the kiss
That says come here. I’ll have you please, completely, deep to deep. -Seun