I started writing morning verses to both sharpen my poetry skills and be sure that I was writing something every day. I will be publishing a few of these poems per post until caught up, then I will publish the week’s verses each Sunday.
🔞 18+ NSFW
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I stare at it The weight of it in my hand Mimics the heaviness in my heart Physically its feels like nothing; Neither heavier nor lighter than it should be. The burden lies in the giving. Choices three before me. Each its own kind of divinity. Each a path with both bliss and unique ache. The first—turbulence, uncertainty, maybe total loss, but leading to all that I desire. To travel this path would be filled with sacrifice and denial. The second—vigorously guarded, sharp turns abounding, hazards strewn my path, but it’s close. And it’s inviting. I feel honored there—if I can stay the course. This path is rough and won’t be easily navigated. The third—flat, gently sloping, nothing in my path that I don’t carry with me. It feels familiar and comfortable, but brings a familiar pain as well—that of solitude. Again this crossroads invokes my constant companion: risk. Risking pain, suppression of who I am, but possibly gaining paradise. Risking becoming lost among twists and turns, constant competition with my surroundings, but being acknowledged and valued in the struggle. Risking nothing, but losing everything. Risk is the drug of the bold adventure seekers. Am I Achilles, risking happiness for glory? Or am I Paris, risking the wrath of the gods in my choice? As I take my first step, I remember. Once I start down a path, there will be no way to know if my choice was the right one. The last path I chose nearly ended me. So, I tighten my sandals and advance —eyes wide this time. This choice may end in loss, but not from lack of vigilance. Let’s begin.
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When I’m alone When I’m surrounded by silence When I’m in a room filthy with other souls When the noise feels like it will break me I think of your eyes And my heart yearns for them To sweep over my body To sweep me away To where you are Into your warm embrace
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Your heat lingers on my fingertips Slick as I trace circles around your edges How I ache for you, how I yearn for the darkness To spread through you, making you surge Imbuing you with power, more bold as you slide past my lush lips You burn at first, awakening past misjudgements Times when I thought I understood how I wanted you But vigilance, careful attention to you Has taught me to wait, the anticipation making the experience all the more rich So I slow my pace, languidly dipping in and out of you Drawing out all that I need So when I take you fully inside my mouth Let you play and dance upon my tongue I taste all of you, every unique flavor of your essence Your woody aroma entices me to go deeper To plumb the depths of your complexity But my patience wears thin I need you inside of me I need to slake the thirst that’s been growing in me Filing my mouth The heat of you in my throat I swallow every drop of you And I feel you coursing through my veins An electric jolt, reviving me Bringing me to life And I am in awe of you I relish you Knowing it was I who made you Perfected you into… A cup of English Breakfast tea worthy of the gods
Blame Scarlett Simmons who gave me this prompt - write a poem about something ordinary and make it sexual.
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why am i so shit at reading maps i know i am not very spatially aware but i can read signs follow roads clearly marked i don’t want to be here staring down a path i know dead ends so i gaze at the map confused as to why i am here again contemplating taking this way again maybe it will be different this time maybe there was something i missed last time what is it called when optimism is fueled by idiocy? is that a thing that was common enough a condition to earn a name? denial maybe i’m not shit at reading maps maybe i just like dead ends maybe it’s just this dead end that’s appealing it has many things i like it’s filled with green pulsing with life so so many different things i’ve never seen there’s an energy here but it’s wild no sense of order just growing wherever it feels like and that’s beautiful but some things that would make it harmonize are choked by its untamedficklegrowth and that puts me on edge guarded yet i’m back here, aren’t i? maybe i just need a newer map or maybe a mirror
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“Humanity should line up to to watch you while you walk, while you brush your teeth” Mundane becomes divine In your blessed hands, lips, and torso The universe bends to accommodate your body Your motions rend all banality You’re a force of nature When you brush your hair When you fasten the straps of your shoes When you bite into a peach Your gaze is a supernova Your voice supersonic Your touch, subatomic First line comes from a work by Franco Arminio, Italian poet and activist
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and as if on cue, my heart falls from your fingers shattering on impact Pieces so jagged they could slice steel vibrating, resonating With the remnants Of your broken promises
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