He who licks knives will soon cut his tongue.
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An Exhortation About A Dog
i
the dog that licks my
feet
every morning after
i wake up
does not appeal to my
senses anymore
ii
the dog that licks my feet every morning after i wake up does not appeal to my senses anymore
iii
the dog
that
licks my
feet
every
morning
after
i wake
up
does
not
appeal to
my
senses
anymore
iv
but i must
allow it
still
because it is the law
between
the dog and me
and this
dogged
society
v
and so the dog still
licks my feet
every morning
and at night
i do not ponder about it
anymore
i do not ask
i have no questions
for asking
vi
the dog sleeps with me
at night
in my bed
and spreads her legs like
a spoiled
prostitute
and she is confident
that i cannot kill her
because that is the
law between us
and dogs
vii
and society keeps guard
on this
and if i continue
having this dog's tongue lick
all over my body
and feed her well
and make her a part of my
life
till death do us part
then society
shall have a thousand hands
clapping
for my obedience
and fidelity
viii
my honest neighbor
(who does not want to be mentioned here says
that actually)
she's one kind of a typical
bitch
(and i will neither confirm nor deny
it, but please do not tell
anyone about it)
that is the law.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How Can You Be So Unforgiving?
many times i watch you
you are very near
my breath touches your
skin
my tongue is restrained
it is true
you do not bore me
you give life like a song
of a dying bird
when i listen you start
to play with your wings
and the wind
is perplexed
when i kiss you
you begin to fly away from my
tongue which has always
been true
as ever
like the ray of the sun
to the petal of
the rose
that is my only mistake
you are not forgiving
my breath touches the shadows
of your footsteps
my tongue licks the mud.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frogs
Maids pass Lilly pad
Native Essex frog winks while
long tongue licks warm beer.
Darting tongue thrusts out
old frog dies on lily pad
maidens weeps green tears.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Achilles
his body trembles
when her tongue
licks his heel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Girl with the Croissant.
You watch the way the girl
Pulls apart the croissant with
Her slim fingers and licks each
Finger in turn sucking on each
With the passion of one making
Love and yet as she pulls it apart
There is that slowness oh that
Deliberate tearing open as if she
Were now opening herself for her
Latest lover as her fingers pull and
Her eyes gaze and her tongue licks
The corners of her soft mouth to
Catch escaping crumbs as if they
Were the juices of her lover’s sperm
Then she turns her head and sees
Your stare and you just wishing you
Was the croissant in her fingers there.
poem by Terry Collett
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For A Denial
It rained all night.
Heaving up the dawn immaculately, at my window
the lake crashed on white sands.
A lone tree
smelt of mist and grief.
A fury had submerged a road
leading to a forgotten childhood.
Knives and pins
clouds and bins-
a hate crime erupts between the teeth.
You meditate sitting on an anthill
to recover the lost bones.
Why don’t you leave the country
for good,
the empty vessel, incense and dirty coins?
For conceptual pain, the snake licks the breasts
of a white goddess, with a forked tongue
for sweet milk.
The hungry womanhood cries holding on to morality.
The memory leaks.
You go back to your gods
for renunciation.
poem by Satish Verma
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230
teardrops from
My eyes
to my cheek
slowly
to my lips
my tongue
licks it
my mouth
swallows
I need tears
to drink
To become
The salt
Of this
Earth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Drink Tears To Become The Salt Of This Earth
teardrops from
My eyes
to my cheek
slowly
to my lips
my tongue
licks it
my mouth
swallows
I need tears
to drink
To become
The salt
Of this
Earth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I thought what I was good at doing was playing real simple guitar licks, since I'd cut my teeth on what Duane Eddy was doing; licks that were simple but had staying power.
quote by John Fogerty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tools Of Love And Hidden Desire
an empty mouth is the best speaker of love's secrets
the hidden tongue that masters the art of lingering licks
is the most beautiful princess of the softest syllable that wakes
up the redness of cheeks of love's newest adventures.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fear
The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,-
But on the window licks the night.
Pile on the logs... Give me your hands,
Friends! No,- it is not fright...
But hold me... somewhere I heard demands...
And on the window licks the night.
poem by Harold Hart Crane
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The Fire
Desire is fire that eats what it lays its tongue on.
It leaps, licks, be aflame, engulfs and guts.
Then too it never dies but lurks as cinders.
Desire is fire and remains from cradles to
graves.
05.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Literary Tongue
at first i like the hands
those huge hands to cover the whole of my cold body
and then i begin to like the fingers
those that crawl and make my body warm
those that fill the orifice of my emptiness
those that caress my hair
and travel from my nose to my mouth
to my neck to the last tip of my toes
and then i like the mouth too
with its tongue that speak about gentleness
and make me a little bit heated
and brave
and then i am finally stuck with the tongue
the surrogate part of of them all
it speaks
it licks
it travels from the tip of my hair to the tip of my toe
and then it stops
hides inside the walls of my teeth and gums
and stay in the house of my mouth
it also knows
when to stop and just be alone and silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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With Love
You fly to me, moth on silver wing,
to light on my mind and stare within.
You slip off your veil of glacial ice,
and gather me unto your fiery breasts.
Your electric tongue, like a snake out of hell,
enters my eyes and licks my brain.
Sulfuric acid drips from your smile
as you swallow me deep within.
poem by Rick Stokes
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The Pasture
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I shan't be gone long. -- You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I shan't be gone long. -- You come too.
poem by Robert Frost
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Wolves
(Wolf Howls)
I'm not a hunter but i am told,
that, uh, in places like in the arctic,
where indiginous people sometimes might, might, hunt a wolf,
they'll take a double edged blade,
and they'll put blood on the blade,
and they'll melt the ice and stick the handle in the ice,
so that only the blade is protruding,
and that a wolf will smell the blood and wants to eat,
and it will come and lick the blade trying to eat,
and what happens is when the wolf licks the blade,
of course, he cuts his tongue, and he bleeds,
and he thinks he's really having a good thing,
and he drinks and he licks and he licks,
and of course he is drinking his own blood and he kills himself,
thats what the Imperialists did with us with crack cocaine,
you have these young brothers out there who think they are getting something
they gonna make a living with,
they is getting something they can buy a car,
like the white people have cars, why can't i have a car?
they getting something they can get a piece of gold,
white people have gold, why can't i have gold?
they getting something to get a house,
white people have a house, why can't i have a house?
and they actually think that theres something thats bringing resources to them,
but they're killing themsleves just like the wolf was licking the blade,
and they're slowly dying without knowing it.
thats whats happening to the community, you with me on that?
thats exactly, precisely what happens to the community,
and instead of blaming the hunter who put the damn handle and blade in the ice
for the wolf,
that what happens is the wolf gets the blame, gets the blame for trying to live,
thats what happens in our community,
you don't blame the person, the victim,
you blame the oppressor, Imperialism, white power is the enemy,
was the enemy when it first came to Africa,
and snatched up the first African brothers here against our will,
isss the enemy today,
and thats the thing that we have to understand.
(Clapping)
song performed by by Dead Prez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gossips warning
Gossips warning
~
The forked tongue of the gossip
Carries a serpents poison
Spreading words with malice
Without truth or substance
The thought they conceive
Birth pain and hatred in the innocent
Lies, lies and more lies
All in the name of a good story
Little whispers and messages
Behind the back of others
May as well be sharpened knives
Et tu good friend
No look to the eyes
No questions for honesty
Just the vile poisoned tongue
The bile of the gossip
Now facing a stark warning
Do not cross the poet
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Tongues
the tongue
of my body
is in the nerves
the tongue
of my soul
in the heart
the tongue of
my mind
in the head
the tongue
of truth and deceits
in the mouth
the tongue of
the World (Creation)
in the words
of God
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Knives Out
I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Look into my eyes
Im not coming back
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Dont look down
Shove it in your mouth
If youd been a dog
They wouldve drowned you at birth
Look into my eyes
Its the only way youll know Im telling the truth
So knives out
Cook him up
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Hes bloated and frozen
Still theres no point in letting it go to waste
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kind Knives
Sweet and nice
Can be like knives
But not your personality
for it is like a butterfly
Landing gently
Traveling swiftly
Cutting through the air
With those beautiful wings
For thats why your personality
Is not like knives but like a butterfly
poem by Jonathan Kjaer
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