The taste of my name sound so sweet from places you barely speak
and formal wear is worn at your own risk
nothing adds up but makes total scenes
where your imagination runs as deep as the coldest abyss
rough areas are laid smooth with the gentleness of a passionate kiss
tongues meet runs of sexual bliss and unexpected bodies end up with a slight twist
stretched minutes are given as gifts
unwrapped features are pleasures not to be missed
work is a figment of play with no rules to assist
whatever you need is at your every stickied fingertip
the greatest edible arrangements
magical locked ness
confessional out burst with no judgment
this is not sex or love making
its our dirty little secret
Royale jones
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blakmista says: Great write Royal jones. 'Stretched minutes are given as gifts'.... Thank you... Peace... |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Royale jones
Royales cometI once graced the sky like a single angel falling through clouds staring pass the shadow of light casted by the warm blush of a fragile moon, only to feel left behind from the love of hugging stars. The taste of cold air restrained my breath as my heartbeat lied strong throbbing in my throat, words only compromised by shallow sips of consciousness weaving in and out of my memories existence. I have never feared the light in all my passings, and been so welcoming of the embrace of darkness for the thought to complex to make out figure eights aligned with emotions written in sound, spilled into hope. Wishes fall short of every long drawn out sentence awaiting dramatic climax but these ends are most subtle not even a whisper good bye...  |
Far two closeFar two close I remember having answers I had so many I stopped questioning Then I realized I knew too much Then I knew I really knew nothing Then the questions came Then the answers were few The words made no sense Feelings meant less Fear took over Powerless came to terms I did not know who I was Or what I would become I was nothing And nothing meant anything Nothing became everything I became everything You see me But do not know You hear me But do not understand Know me But do not know yourself If I was not you how would I know everything grows from nothing And nothing does not exist So who are you Where are you Where is this Did someone show YOU Or did you even know yhis existed What is real? |
LIFE'S WindshieldI say this never to be spoken with out the comfort and protection of my own head. I feel myself strong enough to know I have a broken heart, chips misplaced on my shoulders, and smiles hidden in moments of panic. I am the smallest person I will never understand. I silently cry when I'm happy, the same goes for when I'm sad. what's the difference between my love, and my hate when they both make me mad. I never felt as free as just working for bills, or as lonely as when I was with my first love. Every lie feels true, when the truth is based on the complications of your up bringing. all the wrongs are alright as long as everybody knows, but everyone keeps the secret. It's the rule of thumb. Words tremble the goosebumps on your skin as unfamiliar feelings settle in, nail bitting suspense playing back each sentence yelling in defence. Nothing ever seems to make sense. This is my world, never the less I'm not even a speck to be noticed, these windshield wipers just push me to the side. ... |
The costThe cost Entangled in you giving myself less room to breathe to afraid of the thoughts of being alone my life much like a penny thrown on the sidewalk many look all still to past by without giving a second look the true feeling of my value my heart lying open as far as the sky's venue, do I never get a chance to swim amongst the stars fall as a single drop of rain so different the feeling of subtle pain to the point you can never touch the hurt, maybe this is to be my birth right! I've been hiding in plain sights hoping to catch a glance. do I truly exist am I not made of matter? so why can I not be seen for who I am! I am yet but a rose who's lost petals awaiting a loving hand to pick me away from the rotting of this old soil and be pruned of my roughness built on by life's surroundings and placed upon a table to bring someone's life a simple joy. |
Personal islandI live many years away from land where sorrows borrow emotions from the ocean and the wave length is measured through good byes on countless moments subtracting the feeling of low highs I sit and wonder about how I've survived this my own personal island secluded in retrospect haunted by a life I cannot forget nights bring chills that tear away all comfort I try and hold the warmest of memories pressed in my dreams which feel more like life I am not my surroundings I am filled with love only expressed in my knowing of where I truly am I'm lost beyond all comprehension of so called rational thought Where there seems to be nothing I found that everything made the most sense I live many years away from land where my belief never drifts... |
My Mona LisaThe profound beauty lying in the eyes could tear down any shape of a man's heart, But blood spilled was too deep a cost for the pardone of a once love filled soul. better to have loved and lost added no wealth to a vaulted heart how could this be. the undertaking of the beautifully written love story the sadness imbedded in a half smile and awkward stare froze the picture. the weight of piled sorrows could break the hard exterior put on for the public. everyday finding it almost impossible to carry on the lack of caring was chased away by the fear of never being understood and standing alone. known to the outside looking in as being strong, but like sheltered children she kept it all in. If only she had a one true friend... |
you can mask me anythingThis is the breaking. the straight too the point conversion, mildly evasive situationpresidents set over the outlandish observationhyper extended no real point intended explanationtingling sensation swarming your insides,rough to touchnever easy to glidedown to earth, as part of the skythe realist part of life is living in disguise.the truth of it all...is being taught from birth how to believe in lieshow could it ever been sothat without yeastbread could raiseas living life somehow can kill your insidesbut knowing is just half the battle,sometimes you just have to hold tight and take the ridebeing scared of death is only the promise of how we lived or lives.left handed shakes on hopes of feeling right.easy come easy goout of sight out of mindnext time don't jump from the loud noiseit's just the emotional baggage slamming from be... |
(bottom titled)what could you see, if what was there was only a figment of your imagination |
Sharingwrapped up in this fragile nature of being exposed to the hate only softens the core giving it the will to breakfate such wondrous word probing the mind chasing the heart's sensitivitytouch is a numbing process into the open journey of forbidden rightsbut sights change the feel of what touches parts of you yet to be seen hidden from inward floods of external rainpain the center location build for pushing beyond things you find easy to explainfor answers are given only to ease the overwhelming thought of never understanding the ramifications of senseless rangebut feel is that in which can only be given in small doses so that others can grasp what you can go through, know and understand the emotional place, person or thing that remains in reach of the unknown described but never fully explainedIt is summed up as a rope connecting openness to halfway open doors housing words against pictures painted but never seenfelt yet... |
Spare Changehow dare a man cry for I was taught to let things live and die on the inside lately I've been feeling a little uneasedfinding it a little bit harder to breathlosing strength in my kneesmy control isn't what it used to beghostly pictures haunt meI mean I've done some harsh thingsbut damn murders don't even have to live through these nightmarish dreamsmy harsh reality flows through these salty streams down my leaked expressionphysically I was equipped to deal with painsome how that's not where my empathy reinsthough everything looks the sameit's exactly not what it was before the changethough I walk like youtalk like youact like youopen your eyes when I'm talking to you!we are not the same!this is my body now!, but our brain... |