T'ya

10300

Site Rank BRIGADIER GENERAL
Total poems		42
Lifetime Views		17350
Total poems - 7 days		0
Total poems - 30 days		0
Total poems - 90 days		0
Total poems - 365 days		0

you need to login or register to leave a comment

Promiscuous Poetess

CATEGORY

just different

Forgive me for I have sinned,
yet no remorse does my
conscience concede.
A promiscuous whore...
a slut of the pen.
A nympho of words
fiending for inspiration to fondle
my thoughts
and manipulate my mind
until a perpetual stream
of proficient verses flow from
the confines of my sanity.
They enter me.
I crave words to
enter me fully,
penetrating my orifice with
their erect venacular shafts,
stroking my intellect
with subtle vigor
until lines...c(o)um(e).
I swallow whole,
acidic jargon wrapped
in pastry filled with
shards of broken
glass, causing me to spit
sweet, bitter, and
cutting rimes.
Though gratified,
satisfaction cannot be
attained by a paramour
with such a voracious
appetite for poetic perfection.
So I solicit myself
to tricks of the trade,
words to release me from
a tongue suppressed by
censored verbal freedom
into a realm of
infinite climactic expression.
I am a poetess
of promiscuity
giving myself
again and again to
the art of
spilling integral ink on
beds of pages until
the tip of my wet pen
drips dry.

You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.

COMMENTS


		2b2b2 says: Fantastic Flow.....Very, Very Well Crafted.....Bravo poems by this commentor The Elemental Prophet Ripe (Thoughts in Haiku) A Love's Measure
		mrmelody7 says: No arguing no aggravation, I would say thats a good date and great mate poems by this commentor GOP If You Can Imagine None Of Us Just Guessin
		T'ya says: i'm glad u enjoyed my ink. mrmelody7 it's the best kind of mate to have...one u can be sincerely in love with who will never leave u but will only come when ur ready to receive it. poems by this commentor Promiscuous Poetess Little Girl Little Girl A Work of Art
		mrmelody7 says: Makes plenty of sense to me, I am in total agreement really did enjoy the comparisons, used to run the clubs years ago poems by this commentor Veterans Day Born To Look Stand On My Own 2 Feet

OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY T'ya

FRANKENSTEIN'S APPRENTICE

Lives created between blue spaces...
copulation of mind and pen
now crumpled inside a wooden coffin,
once their birthplace,
to be discarded into a graveyard of lost notions
Red lines strike through black lines
executing their existence,
or maybe just killing them briefly
so they might simply be born again; ah, yes, born again
I sift through graves to revive bodies I deem fit
as to give them life once more
and allow them to live among pages of immortality

My Apologies

In my hasteâ€¦my seemingly callous selfishness,
I inadvertently placed unbearable and copious amounts
of weight and pressure upon your shouldersâ€¦

It was my desireâ€¦my wantâ€¦to have someone to
feel me with himâ€¦toâ€¦fill meâ€¦withâ€¦him
to patiently pore over me so I might wantonly pour into himâ€¦
fusing my Caramel with his Chocolateâ€¦my Crimson with his Indigoâ€¦
my mmm with his hmm, imbuing our senses in every facet as weâ€™d
accentuate eachâ€™s good while making each other betterâ€¦

Someone to sip me slowly and savor me intentlyâ€¦
to take pleasure in my countenance, yet distill my aura
from the tantalizing flesh that would undoubtedly tempt hisâ€¦
To appreciate the pout of my full lips but find stimulation in
their articulation as heâ€™d engage in the intellect of my tongue,
palate my wor...

Thank You for Saying Goodbye

I don't hate you for not loving me anymore
because when you loved me...
you loved me.
You appreciated me.
You respected me.
You gave me security
You gave me a reason to smile
You gave me more than I could have
ever imagined could be given from
one person to another.
You gave me you.
So no I don't hate you for not loving me anymore
because unlike the others who left before you,
you loved me enough to say goodbye.

Promiscuous Poetess

A Work of Art

Lines of colorless spaces
leaves the picture incomplete
Hues of my complexion are used
to masque the drabness
of desolate gray
U admire the beauty of
this masterpiece and
for a moment
find comfort
in its newness
forgetting
the portrait was
painted on a
canvas of
deeply
etched scars
The consolate
impression of
ur love for me
fades
into a reality
where I'm standing
in the shadow
of the one u
wish were standing
here instead

Her Hands

She held my face in the palms of her
rough, un-manicured hands.
I remember her eyes looking into mine
as if she saw a greatness in my future
that would forgive any unfulfilled
promises of her past.
I can still feel her hands on my face.
Hands that told the story of her life
without a word being said.
Hands that spoke of
faith and strength.
Hands that gave more love and
more memories than any one
lifetime could hold.
She was raised in Hollywood.
Not the Hollywood of stars,
glitz, and glamour,
but Hollywood Plantation,
where the only stars that shined
were the ones she
wished and prayed on.
She didn't have soft scholastic hands of
a gilded youth,
but hands that adapted to what hard
work meant at a very young age.
Hands she used as means of worship,
placing them together tightly as she
gave than...

I Still Write

my fingers pulsate
as a life line
dripping black blood
onto a lifeless
backdrop of
white pressed wood
reviving a
silent voice
without lips ever
having to part
oh yes...I still write

Delusions of For(N)ever

I entered in blindly with
my eyes wide opened;
Daydreaming at night
while listening to
Lullabies of quiet, still silence.
A silence so loud that I
could hear the waning of
my beating heart.
I suffocated.
I suffocated on every breath
I took and
drowned in every
streamless tear that
never left my eyes.
I lie to myself
in truth
that he's coming
back and I lay here
with him beside me
until he returns.

Dying to Love You

i would breathe
if i could but
that would mean
letting you go.
so i hold a
gala for u
in the echoes
of my mouth.
as u dance
across my palate
i begin to sapor
the sweetness of u,
giving ill regard to
the pungent
bitterness that
dangles in the gallows
of my throat.
light fades.
u oblige me as i
extend my hand to u
and we slow dance
as i exhale
into forever
and drift away
with u in my arms
and the peace
of knowing
i'll never have
to let you go
again.

Promiscuous Poetess

FRANKENSTEIN'S APPRENTICE

My Apologies

Thank You for Saying Goodbye

Promiscuous Poetess

A Work of Art

Her Hands

I Still Write

Delusions of For(N)ever

Dying to Love You

login below