5 minute poetry

[Selfish]

The wind had been her lover.

He had played with her hair and had toyed with her skirt. Now he was panting alongside her brisk walk, snatching at her clothes gently as he followed her to her workplace.

How he giggled! She flashed a solitary smile, and then hid her thrilling deep within her heart.

Pools of water soaked the soccer field, and everywhere she saw his prints; the ridges of his fingers made the malleable liquid form perfectly to his unique and fluid whorls.

Ever he gave. He offered himself today wildly, but to her sometimes he would lick the glowing salty sweat off her brow. Heaven itself might feel like that. Today he threw himself into her seduction, other days he merely coaxed the warmest breaths down her neck, kissing her earlobes.
A broken shopping bag sporting a familiar logo rose under the Wind`s volition, amusing her twinkling eye. He passed the bag from one hand to the other, pretending to juggle it precariously only to skilfully hurl it up as a kite. Tilting his hand and smacking it hard, the bag nestled as if by itself atop an evergreen.
She shook her head. As a mortal, she didn`t need to understand his every action.

A browned leaf circled up, and then dropped on a ruffled sheet of water. The sight of this jogged a memory; driving rain, clouds, funnel... Yes, he gave so freely, yet he was untrainable.
A lowly being such as she could not plead with him to stop the destruction, to halt his missions. He had no heart that poured forth blood - no knowledge of pain.
AS was beyond her ken the thrill of unadulterated freedom to fly across the planet, so his mind was stunted by his noncoporeal nature. He knew only his play, and not its consequences. He knew his power, not the suffering it sometimes caused.

A licking breeze could cumulate into the orgasmic thunderstorm or raging tornado. His passions were unchecked, as was his displays of power. Singlehandedly he had carved out faces of unnamed cliffs, and brought waves to their destinies. His unblinking eyes had pulled forth knowledge of smootness, of sheerness. With his nerveless hands did he shape God`s creation.

Today though...today he chanced upon this tiny mortal walking to work, and had roused in her a smile. She was won to him that day, forgetting a moment his strength and capriciousness.
This day, he merely loved and toyed. For one day, the fingerprints of the wind were lightly on the land.

******
A friend of mine told me that I should write vanilla erotica after reading this. LOL - what a sweet lady.

[Funka Genocide]

why do men
run towards
the open ends
of closing wars

and why the pain
so fast endured
what is gained
when so inured

when granted are
no honesties
oh so far
from amnesty

bluster fools
oh ever taut
the dimming rules
for which we fought

the clever dooms
by simple hands
as heaven looms
between the sands

[Mintaro]

In tired mind I often find,
sordid and painful the thoughts of thee,
then rummage through my brain anew,
yet from the thoughts I flee,

A winters night with cold delight,
bringing shivers to my skin,
the cold where once there was your touch,
with heated raptures sin,

thinking now the way I'd vow,
to hold you always near,
having you so far away,
makes me feel so insincere,

All the world to me unfurled,
their thoughts of me and you,
ever do I hate to hear,
the fact that it is true,

and ever more do I explore,
the reasons you gave to flee,
though the words may say something else,
I feel it was from me,

maybe I do speak words untrue,
full of fear and grief,
perhaps I truly do not understand,
why our time was so brief,

One thing I know is that although,
you say we'll never be,
my feelings shall burn ever strong,
hidden deep inside of me,

I will never forget when we met,
the impression you made on me,
a woman strong and beauty bold,
with whom I could agree,

our first kiss was unending bliss,
and lasted through the night,
the first woman in long an age,
to postpone our carnal delight,

such a crime so short a time,
could pass us by so fast,
and here I sit still missing you
eighteen long months past,


******* ******* *******

(I found a rather old poem of mine that is a little twisted. Enjoy)

What to say its the end of my time,
who will there be to morn me, when I die,
and I find so many reasons, to let the demons take me home,
but theres no way out, of this trap, save through the soul,

its a pity I lost a long long time ago...

Her eyes shine brightly in the soft, mirrored, candle light,
the same light shines, off the blood, pooling on the floor,
thats one more man, that she'll hear about, no more,
but theres never a solution, in the knife, on the life soaked floor...

Show me a bridge, over a river, in the pale moon glow,
please take me to that place, where she jumped, away that night,
one more bloated body won't mater, in this soulless fight,

who says theres no short cuts in my life....

[icythaco]

Slate gray cubicles
Splattered with manilla shells,
Line walls of pock-marked concrete.

The room--
If this unremarkable box
Could be called anything as assuming as a "room"--
Has become a sepulcher for forgotten memos and spreadsheets.

The stagnant, musty air
Slowly begins to caramelize,
Preserving disheveled layers of oaktag, carboard, and paper.

8.5 X 11 cadavers softly mummifying
In this cement tomb,
Epitaphs tattoed across their bodies.

[BlackMageGirl!]

With grey mist and grey minds
Splatter on rocks sidewalk
And this sound kept in waterseal

So turn from slate thoughts
And walk through water plots
That scatter rain-wise in our time

Why footstep on grey plains?
Green grass is more tempting
Alas, quaqmired drags you down

So grey mind and grey thoughts
Grey footsteps, grey plots
Grey skies and grey rain
With grey eyes, safe again.

[icythaco]

Slick slack, a rainbow on the pavement,
Rain bares down
The oily surface disrupted,
Fractured,
Reconciled.

Wary of water-logged treads
That might dampen the spirits,
If not the fabric.

Trudge through November drizzle
Focus fixed on dampish footsteps,

Roses pass you by
As does steel and brick
But rainbows catch the eye,
And feet stop at the oilslick.

[Melfice]

Calmly I look on
As a single blade of grass
Flows down the wild stream

Meh...

[icythaco]

good stuff, bludd streaks.

Apologies for the length on this thing, but I like to think that it comes together pretty well, and that the style/format is such that it doesn't seem as long when read:

Barstool Confessional
A Ballad

The dust motes stir
With a drunken slur
As I take up my post at the bar.
And the piano man plays
With a sticky malaise
As if the keyboard were slathered in tar.

I begin to take note
Of the usual folk
When I notice a man to my right;
His expression is grim,
His features gone thin,
In his teeth he clutches a knife.

‘A knife’ I concluded
Though my mind is colluded
By a haze of Tonic and Gin.
‘In his teeth, no less,’
But my thoughts now digress,
For the barkeep has just sauntered in.

His new name is John—
He changed it from Tom
After a nasty run-in with the cops.
But he’s a decent old chap,
Quick with a laugh,
And he pours drinks without spilling a drop.

The piano man sighs,
Rubs sleep from his eyes,
And asks John for a break at twelve.
John nods his ascent
But asks for the rent—
And is given the tip-box on the shelf.

As he returns to the bar
I ask for a jar
Of Bailey’s and Cream on the rocks.
He obligingly smiles
And pours me a vial
And makes a joke at the state of my socks.

As the man with the knife
Hits on another man’s wife
I look back on my life thus far…
As I think ‘What’s it all for?’
And glance out the door,
I realize someone has stolen my car.

[Funka Genocide]

serious, delerious
from taking all your shit
imperious, gregarious
so take another hit

you're stoned and wacked and insecure
and I'm your sugar pill
you wish you had another cure
but I'm the one who will

lying to an emptiness, can it hold me to
the vows we made in hesitance
even though we knew

life would get in the way

you're such a cliche
you're such a rogue
strong in the mirror
and dead

mention all your famous loves
mention how I missed the mark
tell me what I'm doing wrong
and curse the dreams I have

fuck this up so every time
you think of love or lust
you remember how I felt
and cry a little more

the tears will set you free

[RaiRai]

Nice to see you posting again, Funka. =)

When the honey drips

When the honey drips from the most gentle petal
the color changing from pink to gold
I'll cherish the image in my mind
until the dreams start to unfold
for such an image is sweet to me
but also holds such pain
a longing to be free and blessed
but washed away by rain
I sit watching the honey spill
into the lifeless ground it seeps
wasted on this bitch of an earth
no rewards will it reap
so I hold onto my memory
I won't let that nectar slip away
and hold with me that wilting flower
in hope it blooms again some day.