Friday, April 29, 2011

A Few Men

Aged opportunity
turning years; without wear
this salacious lady
plans to commandeer
a few men

allowance of unethical love
non traditional love
free, unspoken
beyond marriage finger cuffs
and the obligatory "I do, I do, I do..."

sourcing a few moral men
and a few corrupt too...
seeking treasured comfort
sanction promise moments
that last only minutes
but never a life time

there will be more than you
more than one or two
confirmed a few
some moral men, corrupt ones too...

flower around her tree


© 2011 Lepadah

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Sweet Possession

The two
animus fold
an ocular work of art
formless splendor; deeply pure
slide creeping; caught sniffing scented armpits

hands shivering
around the nape of your neck
meddling hair
acknowledge genial fondle

"I can barely... stop!
breathe
smother this swans noise
oh baby! the shit you do."
you're gotta to be my favorite thing
like Coltrane

continue to keep it flowing
pushing into the firmness of you
nearing the throat
you swallow; eye follow
kissing your apple; holding its flee movement

affixing elongated negro legs
coiling waist ; come night Priest
bury me inside
to be your sweet possession


© 2011 Lepadah

Comment

Hi Lydia,
Ted Younger commented on your note "Sweet Possession".
Ted wrote: "wOw great...."




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From: SparkyDashforth (SparkyDashforth)
Last Visit: 8:46 AM
Posts: 2502
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To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Apr 28 11 09:00 AM
Message: 
56981.5 (5 of 6)
Reply to 56981.1

Most excellent write!

sparky

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Sweet Possession (Poem Of The Nymph)
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From: GuyBlakeKett (GuyBlakeKett)
Last Visit: 5:43 AM
Posts: 10056
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To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Apr 28 11 05:54 AM
Message:

gorgeous erotic poem. wow. what a way to wake up in the morning.

cheers,

Guy

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Under The Moon After Midnight

"Hey lady, wanna burn them?"
hot 97 playing "Want You"
a jest , so... "lets dip up out here"

his yellow Yankee fitted
slight turn to side
diamond stud in ear
proceeds with his jive

no more than twenty five
"sit them buns ere; up front near me"
preparing to burn
ripping tobacco from cigarette wrap
spilling onto a napkin

stocking natures plant
"alright there"
"you're a cop ma?"

puffing... nope
her smile delicate
full-dress with reservation
fuzzy shorn good common sense

in the dead night
atop the hood of an Infiniti
collecting count of graves
thoughts run; river endless
this could possibly be forever
if she wasn't so grown

hidden beneath the Birch tree
identified as woman weeds
with punctuated curves
fall out flowered hips twisted
rape by last year vulgar wind
disrobed, broken beauty; its limbs

mind reflection of the man
still in morning pajamas
recalling his routine verse "it is what it is"

it is what it is no contemplation
eyeballing the moon
drifting over their face
"yo! you feel that moon ma"

"yeah I am the moon"
"it is what it is" a repeat verse
stealing some medical smoke
from the youthful enthusiast
total fascination
after his lost love

she could not help him, heal his heart
or indulge curiosity
so a gentle kiss to the cheek
is all one could offer

she remained
standing in the drizzly rain
headlights fading across feet
Gaye playing the piano in Belgium
suddenly the world is good again
smiling at the aftermath "it is what is..."


© 2011 Lepadah


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Under The Moon After Midnight

From: SparkyDashforth (SparkyDashforth)
Last Visit: 6:28 AM

To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Apr 22 11 09:02 AM
Message:
56954.2 (2 of 3)
Reply to 56954.1
Oooooooooooo I LIKE!

sparky

Friday, April 15, 2011

Silver Shoe Shine (A Poem)

Before work
after seven eleven hazelnut coffee
the subway ride to 23 Ely
thru the tunnel upstairs
spinning turnstile
pass token booth

whirling axis of revolving doors
ushering onto a polished black floor
like shiny patent leather shoes
carefully one steps

afore the escalator
and the silvery jingling ching a ling of bangles
a woman bobs up clearing glass egress
entree silver shoe repair

Fidel stretched hand swinging in the air
as though simulating tango moves
whisking her happily
onto naugahyde sovereignty
the proverbial arrival

readying her riding boots
leather balm first
swipe, swipe; wipe, wipe
bull it,whip and spit to beam

amuse mid men
cherish cigars
unfolded Wall Street Journal
sliding peeps over bifocals

unapologetic for her presence
shaded under the cover of "Revolutionary Suicide"
an ernest interest

upon departure
synchronize "have a nice day"
from gentlemen's survey
of the only woman at the silver shoe shine...

© 2011 Lepadah