getaway

she knew they needed time
away.
life had become
the same old tic-toc,
around the clock,
rat race for years now.
so they packed,
found a sitter for the twins
and drove out
to the lake...
the cabin hadn't changed
besides a few cob webs
and moldy smell.
she watched her better half
saunter to the ice box~
he turned to her,
with a grin on his face
and a cold bottle
of rose let's make love
in his hands.
...and that they did.
with an intensity
never experienced,
they engulfed
carnal pleasures
long since forgotten.
the taste of her lips,
the sound of his mounting passion
carried them to a plateau
inhabited by dreams of dreams
and jasmine scented
arrivals.
it was as it should be.
the both of them happy once more.
as they lay entwined,
dazzled by the masterpiece
sprawling before them,
he began to cry.
she had instructed
that he only bring two bullets
for the old revolver...
this would be their last
sunset.

400

from mt olympus
you ascend,
feeding the eternal
flame of wanton lust
embedded in the minds
borne distaff.
a creation of perfection
sculpted intent~
molded specifically
to prevail.
indeed dost thou evoke
fables of yore
that burn and yearn
for release
through taciturn
words turned rogue.
a machine...
nay a masterpiece
given to mere mortals
for the sole sake
of glandular endearment~
twofold
climactic swoon
and burdened beast
of war.
dare we partake?
this flesh,
this man,
this canonized
illusion
authorized to reality.
chiseled stone
filled with emotions
poured to brim
from empowered hands...
watch over us
in magnificent splendor
as we cast our gaze
away. inspired by Walter Parada

the plastic army man samba

wind me tales
of stormy skies
filled with chaos and mayhem
gone mutant...
bedazzle my psyche with the hymns
dripping with valor
sang by men
covered in burgundy wine~
chests poked in pride
and prejudice.
i'll lend an ear
and intently surmise
while the canvas
undulates and weaves,
birthing the story
only a select few are chosen
to paint.
through the half blind madness
i hear screams,
cries,
the laughter of trigger men
gone insane.
sips from a canteen
drowned in jack
to drown out the attack.
under fire from winged demons
dropping black eggs of death.
the spray of severed digits
and squish of torn flesh...
while commanders bark
from towers of ivory,
oblivious to the living hell
that consumes.
tell me a tale
of buxom bosoms,
heaving in the cool of night
as the need to forget
rears it's toothy grin.
an angel
bought for five dollars,
tells you how handsome you are
as another waits his turn...
back to the valley
for another game of chance.
one orb was expendable,
dare you live without both?

the afterglow

she always said it...
there was a hint of disbelief,
each time he wandered
back into her life
and crawled into her skin.
counting the days seemed sheer torture
for miss nymph.
nail biting,gin and juice.
the time was passed in increments
which dragged on
until his arrival.
she would inhale the musky
highlights of his manhood,
lay down on egyptian spun
300 count~
let him watch as she opened the doors
to paradise.
he would look inside her soul
and then into her eyes
as she embraced the tiny death
that cascaded over her.
her creamy thighs
would go sky high
while he dined on a sticky appetizer.
the incredible lightness
embraced her mind as he tasted
the on coming denial of victorian
morality.
this was always the moment she longed for~
back arched,his tongue
riding the curves of her spine.
and that feeling...
the inexplicable jolt
of giddiness that surrounded her heart
as he filled the depths of her desire
with his spirit.
...this time she let go.
make sure he saw what she felt.
so as he walked away,
the neighbor child's party
provided the truth.
"this is what you do to me"
she whispered.
he smiled and walked away.
he would be back by the time she came down.

snapp

do you see me as i see you?
the external persuasion
for a lower invasion
which brands my mind
with the candy coated desire
of you.
click,zzzt,click,zzzt!
the outlines of your sexuality
tenderly tease
the framework of my psyche.
clandestine thoughts
of a private shoot,
tracing the curves
of your vanilla
as heavenly moans erupt
in fragrant melodies~
sending my want on an insurmountable
task...
professionalism has lost its allure,
replaced by the tick tock
beating of lust through my veins.
quietly striking a chord so deep.
an intoxicating encantadora,
luring me to the depths of sinful delights.
click,zzzt,click,zzzt
can you feel the warmth of my fantasy
calling out to you as an ear worm?
over and over until you acknowledge
its fire.
one roll is spent
and i quickly reload
another.

outercourse

we had come to cherish
the stolen moments
that defined our lust.
stealing away to frolic
on the shoreline
as cool sea salt caressed
our souls.
moonlight bounced
off the atlantic like shimmering
liquid metal
which mirrored my desire for you.
playful tugs
would lead to decadent dances
amid the foam.
your thighs,high and divine
as my eager lips sought
the center of heaven...
fingers in my hair
guiding me to the places
that would cause an explosion
of sheer ecstasy.
lost in windows of onyx
while the inner cowgirl
takes possession of sensuous hips.
my hands drink the supple curves
riding my power of persuasion.
watching~
as mountains moved
beckoning me into their softness.
we would roll,
spent,
onto the sugary sand
and bask in the newness
of our history.

plight of the demented rook

weary eyed
and full of disbelief,
i marveled
at the witty prattle
thrown back and forth
between man and fowl.
glittering generalities
that intrigued my curiosity
enough to provoke wonder...
was i napping or awkwardly aware?
yet was this enough to cause a stare?
so i stood
and digested this scene.
one so bizarre as i'd never seen.
...was it drawn near by a fist full
of jelly beans?
alas,a tear has formed on beak of bird~
trailed by a sorrowful cry of pain unheard.
"tis this not the bust of Pallus?"
faint laughter of pristine amusement,
as weathered stone replies,
nevermore.
a parting gift,
spinach and mayonnaise.
deposited on shoulders
of statuesque malaise.
ONE SHOOT SUNDAY POETRY PROMPT COURTESY JAMES RAINSFORD

when a soul cries

she never told me

 what made her do it...

what could drive someone

 to play God

 and dangle,helplessly,

from the edge of nothingness...

a jack knife dive

 into the belly of the beast.

soaring high on the puff,puff pass

 that erased years of morality.

mama cried...daddy was used and told lies~

then daddy died,

making her cry.

yet she remained steadfast,

taking the low road to redemption 

at sanity's expense.

through pleads that fell upon deaf ears,

a mind torn and tattered.

body worn and weary,

wandering decay filled streets 

to quench a thirst

 that will never cease.

eyes stream morphine drips 

that resemble anger tinged demons~

smiling her demise.

yet my love remains,

for she is flesh of my flesh 

and we

 flesh of those that have passed on...

where does she belong?

ballerina in blue

she would pull on her mother's coat and talk,talk,talk about how this was her home~this huge hall which hulked over them as they stood,waiting for their steel chariot.yes dear...one day,as a smile adorned her sickly countenance.three dot five then a score...she danced and the crowds were enchanted with her grace and agility.acting skills,honed and channeled by a thespian sensei~the lights,action,camera was in her blood...mother still smiled from beyond the rafters.the three beat of a minuet pranced in her mind~while toes,gnarled and divine,float and execute the viennese waltz...two,three,one,two,three.then they came,with letters of lagging leone.the crowds died,as did her spirit.in its place,the drone of kachunk,kachunk,machines and onions on her person.her close-up was done...fade to black.

clik clak,clik mack

he leaned forward,head in hand,and thought of their last dinner.it was a succulent leg of lamb~ which caused hunger pangs to ring out from his belly.he smiled and plunked out how he adored their time together~nothing else mattered when they made the sun stand still...the rusty royale rambled on as repressed love languished in his heart.it was a dream come true,the whirlwind romance they shared.falling into emotional fornication was never as fun.the nights entwined,the way their kisses transported souls on high...tap,tap,tap~it would be his way of showing how much he cared...how little the stares and whispers meant.tap,tap,tap~his mind was given unconditionally and his body followed suit.never had he dared to believe the liaison would lead to an entanglement of tender favors...his parents would never understand~neither would mack's.the noose fit just right.he closed his eyes on keys drenched in tears. poetry prompt courtesy of jackAZ photography

corner clair de lune

they had told him,as a child.that his claim to fame would be through strains of vivaldi~filtered over his love of that which was dark and devious.his parents assured the promise and he was content...until their passing.with years of guidance lost,the always easy world of play and be heard,wasted into cries of feed me...daily taunts of immeasurable pain which hugged his ego like daggers from the pit.he loved her,yet she despised him and what they had taught.she was his love now...and their offspring the catalyst.dreams were erased from the chalkboard of his desires~replaced with vulgarities for what he knew was real...so he dons the love of his youth,pours out debussy in A minor...while strangers pay for his family's next meal.