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boysonbeach: A little something I edited, and put together for you. ;) But… Thank you Danny, thank you for choosing me. For being with me. I know this might not be right to do in a Tumblr post, but I really care about you. And it feels like we
Soft, every morsel so soft to the touch.Serene in such splendour; delicate linestantalisingly within your clutch.Arching peaks youache to caress, the drumbeat spills forthand a gentle strum plays across your chest.Glancing touches hit you like blows and
I’ve been deep inside you. Front to back. I’ve turned you, flicked and fingered. Your story is dark, but I know well. You want me to open you again. I can read you like a book.
Recite a poem. Read the first page to one of your favorite books. Read the little blurb on the back of your shampoo bottle. Do a tongue-twister. Say something in a different language. Share an anecdote. Do the rains in Spain stay mainly on the plains?
“POEM FOR NOBODY” Charles Bukowskian apprehension for reality, the death of the flower,the collapse of hope, the crush ofwasted years, the nightmare faces,the mad armies attacking for no reason at alland/orold shoes abandoned in old corners like half-forg
Yes love, you’re a tempest, With stormclouds in your chest, lightning between your fingertips, And a laugh that cuts through me like a thunderclap, Rattling the windows of my soul. However, I am an ocean. Rage across me, frenetic. Return to me, becalmed
poem I like
The Swan In darkened eddys; Where leaves turn in their spirals; And sunlight cautiously goes; Floats a black swan; With elegant ghostly lines; Waiting on the moon; When she will know with one glance; It’s as sure as her ink-like feathers. ~MExclusive
We were very tired, we were very merry—We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable—But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;And the whistles
Am I crazy or does that kid look at you like she knows everything
When your face smells like ass and your crotch smells of cum and lube.When the boy under you has released his grip on the sheets, lowered his torso flat and rolled his head to rest on the pillow still drooling and panting heavily.
I ride my bike through the cold winter night It feels like I got the world’s weight on my back But I got a strong back So I ride and I ride A smile on my face through the cold winter night.
surfandwrite: Ravish Me Red by Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) My more poetic way of saying “harder“ or "fuck me like you hate me.”
….. I feel like I shouldn’t laugh at this, since Im so refined and cultured… thank gods I can ignore feelings… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! XD
Poems of the Dead: Anonymous asked: this will probably be dismissed as white tears but sometimes i get offended by people like...
I can hear the rain outside, But I feel it in my head Drowning my thoughts One drop at a time. I can feel my heart beat, Blood like lava Running fire through my veins. Burning skin Searing bones.
we walk around like it's not holy
every wall of her room was a collage dedicated to her friends. when I was younger, I liked it. there were photos of me. memories of drawing on the driveway in sidewalk chalk, elaborate halloween costumes, wandering around the mall, birthday parties.
writeworld: Writer’s Block A picture says a thousand words. Write them. Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture. Be sure to tag writeworld in your
ifyourbonesareheavythings: i tried to read you like a book from head to toe but i got lost in the middle(the best parts, of course)i’m sure you’ll forgive me.
I’m standing here alone as always all alone waiting for someone to come but I know that never happenPeople walking by floating clouds in the sky I’d better laugh it off all the things I’ve excepted all from me It look like an easy thing
poems-and-words: Book of the day: The People Look Like Flowers At Last by Charles BukowskiGet the FREE Kindle Reading App
Mentalillness is just as real as all he otherI like to help people with itMental illness is no bother Just sitAnd talk to someoneIt may matterto someone a bitDon’t be doneWith itTalkTake a walkChalkAl of your blogAsthe clockTicks awayStayAnd i twill
poems-and-words: Book of the day: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil GaimanGet the FREE Kindle Reading App I’d really like this buy what done is done and I can tell I’m getting lonely
poems-and-words:“I like the dark part of the night, after midnight and before four-thirty, when it’s hollow, when ceilings are harder and farther away. Then I can breathe, and can think while others are sleeping, in a way can stop time, can have it
In moments like this, when I am so afraid, all I want is for you to hold my hand. Like you do when we are dancing, and the song ends, so you give me one last spin, and then take me back into your arms, intertwining our fingers, capturing my
I collect dresses that I’ll never wear, sing songs that nobody likes, dance for the walls, and say speeches to trees. I’m not saying I make a lot of sense, but you might want to look a little closer. You may find something beyond just an odd
inkheaux: the cute barista keeps distracting me from writing poems pls send help ! 🌥
A poem for mornings.
poems-of-madness: “She was bad and beautiful, like a cigarette between red lips.” — The Short Poems Series by Royla Asghar
poems-and-word: “If I had my way we’d sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes.” — William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch (via books-n-quotes)
poems-and-word: “I just want to wake up and see your face next to me.” — Kim Taylor, Days Like This (via music-and-quotes)
theres a second half but i like this better i tried xx
a boy once told me my lips tasted like tangerines and my skin felt like flower petals
oozins:NOT EVERYTHING FEELS LIKE SOMETHING ELSE
If you’re a poet, then how are you able to love a girl who only cares about the poems that mention her?
breakfast-babe: unicorntampon: nevaehtyler: Poet Taylor Steele captures the problem with appropriating Black slang. In her poem “AAVE” (which stands for African-American Vernacular English) Taylor Steele explains why appropriation of Black slang
Photo - brynhilder.deviantart.com Like the sands of time through the hour glass, our lives pass us by. If there were only time to make it last, every second is another opportunity gone by. I know I should slow things down, and be patient as we grow.
Like two incoming trains these souls collide. With brutal force and fire in their eyes. Angst vs anger, fear vs doubt. Love vs indifference, neither giving their route. In a ball of flame, fire and passion the two collide as both lose traction. Spinning
Photo: Explosion Man by iQart91 http://iqart91.deviantart.com/art/Explosion-Man-156731945 How do I describe this feeling inside? This desire to cry because I feel so alive? It feels like my chest is about to explode reality slips, sanity trips, my seeds
ive never seen anything quite like you
Writing poetry is like a breath of fresh air- Relievingdestiny-idgaf
girlnamedryan creates a visual poem with her ass.
