by giadancer | Tuesday– 19th December 2000 | favorites, kama, love, seduction, sensuality
Slowly and deliberately
Passes my tongue over your psyche.
Across bridged minds
Lust may swiftly pass.
Sneaking devil grins and blushing blunders
Purports the cages of formality
To fade.
What magnificent actors!
We liars accepting passionless blows.
Building careful yellow castles
Encrusted with self-made mendacity.
I am begging: beware.
Low tide is forever a mere transience.
An incessant oscillation,
Incapable of anymore
Than soothing and smothering,
Stifling cell by cell.
The drift of endearment
May spare the foundation.
But even so,
Incontinent granule walls
Crumble beneath shattering moans.
Seize the vital cliffs!
Their swollen pools agitated
By the daunting images
Of your luscious locks
Ravishing my being.
In want of a core violation,
An opening of long ago cloaked wounds.
Washed over
Into muddy pools of mortification;
Retreat.
December 2000
Photograph by Anderson J. Gonzalez
Visits: 59
by giadancer | Friday– 3rd November 2000 | language, love, sensuality, sonnet
Manipulate me with subtle language.
Embrace it, divulging the prosaic lie
Lingering on the salty summer ridge-
the carnal threshold searing from my thigh!
A warm serpent burrows inside my mind
As it lights a fire, caressing the strait.
Imploring breaths cajole a willed grind
Dripping fire into the rivets we create.
Along a lethargy of meaning, to
A snarled torrent of scurrilous bliss.
It unfolds unto jaded veins anew,
Seeping out in blankets of catharsis.
The coupling of such drives echoes the heartbeat-
As the fate which offers not vista retreat.
Visits: 24
by giadancer | Tuesday– 30th May 2000 | absurdist, avant garde, bemused
Screeching Beatniks tumble from the sky
as tornadoed follicles shoot upward,
strangling pouty goose flyers.
No remorse please . . .
the wings are only to be snapped
off for swanky face fans, in any case.
Those wings once snipped and then dipped,
dipped in the Orient, purely were,
purely they were sprouted and fated to be
(to this diabolical and fancy-free embellishment),
the establishment, really, of bourgeois love.
Visits: 27
