En.Citatepedia^®.ro

O' How I Played You

I sneak in breaths, between pressed lips
fingered mem'ries, not forgotten
loves wind blows, over familiar keys
a sultry͡ slur, an E-flat slips
slick swift runs, ‘cross wet dragged lips
tender nips, in wanton places
such furious highs, ascending clashes,
falling releases, fluttering splashes
a soft brushed cymbal, a stifled cry
lungs
exhaling…
fingers
trembling …

now…
antique brass, frames a coy sweet face
her pictured walls, twilight revealed
a tarnished glint…
a trumpet graced…
by a flower placed…
both breaths erased…

Still…
mem'ries stirring, emotive wails
reverberant whispers, adjuring moans
lamenting riffs played bittersweet
melody intoned, a kiss discreet

my breathless horn, on the mantle lays
gonna dust that off, one of these days
with a sly old wink, I blew it off
she coyly smiled, thru dusks dim rays

two loves lived..
one ballad sung…
lips fade apart…
as the old man prays…

poem by George Vuyakovich
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I Can't Kiss You

I can't kiss you as one drop
my lips are a boat that loves to wave your ocean
I can't kiss you as one match
my lips are the matchbox that lights your lips' fire

I can't kiss you as one moment
my lips are the clock that loses its hours
I can't kiss you as one lips' graze
my lips like to write long carmine stories

I can't kiss you right now
my lips need a romantic cosiness
I wouldn't like just to kiss you
my lips would like to pad into your lips' flower
(eternity)

poem by Ata Augustyn
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French Kissin In The Usa

Loves touch comes to mean so much.
Embrasser cest francais.
Loves way, sabandonner.
Slip into the velvet glove, parted lips so filled with love.
Lips upon forbidden places, lingering in long embraces.
French kissin in the usa!
Lips are in motion.
Ocean to ocean to ocean, ocean to ocean to ocean.
Paris is calling!
Falling, were falling, were falling, falling, were falling, were falling.
Lips close, then blossom like a rose.
Lips wide holding you inside.
Kisses hard, kisses deep, a kiss to wake us from our sleep.
Take your lover by the hand, speak in tounges and understand.

song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short of Breath

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
my breathing’s weak and my chest is sore.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I have to breathe deeply at a slower rate.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
I’m four breaths closer than I was before.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
my mouth’s wide open, but I can’t inflate.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
it’ll be the end when I breathe no more.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I’m sure someone's rattling heaven's gate.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
well that’s it, I can't count no more.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Unconsciously

one night
beside me
my friend
you touch
my body
with your
fingers
you kiss
my lips
with your
warm lips

i let you
unleash
feelings
perhaps
long buried
like an
ancestor

the morning
after i ask
you why
and you say
you were
unconscious
you ask to
be forgiven
saying sorry
so sorry &
that the same
may not be
repeated

i touch
your mouth
with my
hand &
tell you
you have
nothing to
be afraid
of nothing
to be sorry
about

i perfectfly
understand
how is it
to be
unrequited
this body
is yours
this body
is meant to
be shared
by another
who loves
to touch
who loves
to kiss
who loves
to be in love
who loves
to be a part
of the flesh
who loves
to be just
the man that
you are
consciously

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Face

If one could have that little head of hers
Painted upon a background of pure gold,
Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers!
No shade encroaching on the matchless mould
Of those two lips, which should be opening soft
In the pure profile; not as when she laughs,
For that spoils all: but rather as if aloft
Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's
Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss
And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this.
Then her little neck, three fingers might surround,
How it should waver on the pale gold ground
Up to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts!
I know, Correggio loves to mass, in rifts
Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb
Breaking its outline, burning shades absorb:
But these are only massed there, I should think,
Waiting to see some wonder momently
Grow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky
(That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by),
All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eye
Which fears to lose the wonder, should it wink.

poem by Robert Browning
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I passed by the house

I passed by the house one summer day,
Morning sunshine upon it lay;
Toward the windows that blood-red burned
Flaming my soul was turned, was turned.
There spring had found me
And captive bound me
To lissome hands and soft lips enthralling,
To smiles now stained by the teardrops falling.

Till the view from my vision dies,
To it backward I send my eyes;
All that was becomes new and near,
The forgotten grows warm and dear;
Mem'ries wander,
While this I ponder,
And from the springtime all love's sweet dreaming
Forward and back in my soul is streaming.

Joyous that time and joyous now,
Sorrow that time and .sorrow now.
Sun on meadows bedewed appears,
Soul in mem'ries of smiles and tears.
When they waking
Their bounds are breaking,
When streams their ebbing with sinking power,
The soul bears poetry's bud and flower.

poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Just Kiss Me Again

Please kiss me again,
Your lips are soft,
Like angel wings,
But when you leave me I die,

Pull me close to you again,
And kiss me softly,
With your passionate lips,
That left me breathless again,

My cheeks get hot,
And my heart seems to flutter,
When your lips meet mine,
I just seem to go under,

Just kiss me again,
If you love me you would,
Just kiss me and I will be fine,
I will never die, if you just kiss me again,

Embrace me,
I don't need you inside me,
Just to know you love me,
All I need to know that is when you kiss me,

Just kiss me pleas,
I love you,
Just kiss me,
I will never hurt,
I just need your lips on mine once again! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

poem by Tin Mouse
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Let`s be kissed...

Let`s be kissed...

kiss me..
kiss me wherever and whenever we are alone...
kiss me...
the only thing i want to feel is you...
kiss me...
kiss and let me feel your heart through your lips...
kiss me...
the only one who knows the right places is you...
kiss me...
your touch only which excites me...
kiss me...
your lips are the sweetest thing i`ve ever felt...
kiss me...
just when you do the world fades away...
kiss me...
nothing can rest me only your lips when mixed up with me...
kiss me...
your kisses and you lips will never be forgotten...
kiss me and be here always with me...
kiss me..
would you please give what i`ve asked you for? ...
please...
kiss me, lets fire this world...

by: [email protected]

poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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A Swirling Breeze

A single breath here
billowing out lazily
to meet yours
in the in between;
prelude to a kiss

the breaths meet before our lips
the dance before the kiss
the double breath
now double warm
fresh from our lungs;

meet and swirl
each around the other
as our moist mouths quiver.

But then the slow inhale and these mixed two
are drawn back to their origins
and down lung-ward
they twirl dancing their lung dances.

But before that warm storm
can settle in mouth and lung
warm lips
ignite
an even larger tempest
and now two breaths;
sealed mouth
sealed kiss
make a lungful maelstrom
deep within
and goes to my center
where the explosion there
buckles my knees.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Her Lover Boy...

he wants to be remembered
by his strangled hair
by the waves of his eyebrows
his shaven face
his sticky wink
his protruding nose (bent backwards like his penis)
his gasping breaths (like those sex moans last night)
his teeth that bites an unlighted cigarette
quietly caught between the hold of his
lips of fire.........

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Kiss

Lips' language to lips' ears.
Two drinking each other's heart, it seems.
Two roving loves who have left home,
pilgrims to the confluence of lips.
Two waves rise by the law of love
to break and die on two sets of lips.
Two wild desires craving each other
meet at last at the body's limits.
Love's writing a song in dainty letters,
layers of kiss-calligraphy on lips.
Plucking flowers from two sets of lips
perhaps to thread them into a chain later.
This sweet union of lips
is the red marriage-bed of a pair of smiles.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Benedictine

The Benedictine scents and stains
the languor of your pallid lips;
My kiss shall be a bee that sips
A fainting roseleaf flushed with rains.

I thirst, and yet my thirst increases
With draining deep and deeper kisses;
The odour of your breath releases
Desires that dream of deeper blisses.

And on my lips your lips now pressed
Cling moist and close; your lips begin
Devouringly to gather in
Your kisses that my lips possessed.

The odour of your breath releases
Wafts of intoxicating blisses;
Yet still my thirst of you increases,
I think beneath your thirsty kisses.

No kisses more, this perilous day,
Or tempting, tempt me not in vain:
This day I dare not taste again
Your lips that suck my soul away!

poem by Arthur Symons
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My Loves Wedding

One said, its a secret
So don't say to anyone
Said, she is marrying
That she is, my love
The one, don't knew it

Heart stopped for second
And started to pain badly
My throat too had felt it
But my lips had smiled
And said, its good news

The one said me date
And told me to come
By then heart was broken
But my lips still smiled
Said, wish i can do so

The one started to say
About my loves only love
So my ears were on job
And lips carried the talk
But rest of me had died

The one told me all
About my loves love
Then my dead heart felt
My loves love is better
Far far better than me

So I wiped my eyes
Said bye to the one
And placed hand on heart
Said, its time to sing
For my only loves wedding

Wedding, which i can't go
My broken heart is weak
It can't break down more
But its each broken piece
Sings a happy marry life

Forever to my loves wedding

poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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Such a Sweet Kiss

You blew me such a sweet, sweet
Sweet kiss..

It rode upon the winds to find
My ruby red lips, to fall in love
Once again..

You look down at me as your
Lips spoke the words “I’ve
Found my true love and my
Lips will never kiss another”

Let not our love die in vain
For I’ve seen a nightingale
Perched upon my windowsill,

I heard the nightingale sing
So sweet, so sweet

It sang of my ruby red lips
With,

Lyric were off the chain..

Such harmony cannot will
Not,

Be perfected again..

poem by Carolyn Sears
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Kisses

Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?
How soft is this one, how subtle this is,
How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is,
As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice;
How this one clings and how that uncloses
From bud to flower in the way of roses;
And this through laughter and that through weeping
Swims to the brim where Love lies sleeping;
And this in a pout I snatch, and capture
That in the ecstasy of rapture,
When the odorous red-rose petals part
That my lips may find their way to the heart
Of the rose of the world, your lips, my rose.
But no song knows
The way of my heart to the heart of my rose.

poem by Arthur Symons
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Lips

lips...
written in darkness,
mouthing words
in unspoken language.
searching,
groping for reason...
trembling before
the soft underside
of the shell.

lips...
bruised,
and wanting,
saying much
with silent moves.

lips...
that pray,
and drench loving,
with the softest
and hidden,
bell of the hungry.

lips...
that cross bridges
and build stairways,
from empty rooms
to the warm beating heart!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Trumpet Player

The Negro
With the trumpet at his lips
Has dark moons of weariness
Beneath his eyes
where the smoldering memory
of slave ships
Blazed to the crack of whips
about thighs

The negro
with the trumpet at his lips
has a head of vibrant hair
tamed down,
patent-leathered now
until it gleams
like jet-
were jet a crown

the music
from the trumpet at his lips
is honey
mixed with liquid fire
the rhythm
from the trumpet at his lips
is ecstasy
distilled from old desire-

Desire
that is longing for the moon
where the moonlight's but a spotlight
in his eyes,
desire
that is longing for the sea
where the sea's a bar-glass
sucker size

The Negro
with the trumpet at his lips
whose jacket
Has a fine one-button roll,
does not know
upon what riff the music slips

It's hypodermic needle
to his soul
but softly
as the tune comes from his throat
trouble
mellows to a golden note

poem by Langston Hughes
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Dream Or Fantasy

(10/12/11)

When I close my eyes I can trace
every line upon your face.
My fingers touching your soft gentle lips
Those lips that I yearn to kiss.

You are my dream lover - my fantasy come true
When I want you - I dream of you.
I close my eyes and there you are
Always near - never far.

Your love fills my nights and completes my days
And in my heart you will forever stay.
When ever I am feeling down
I close my eyes and you’re around.

You are my dream lover - for me there is no other
People say that you are a fantasy.
A figment of my imagination.
If this is so - why do I get these sensations.
I hold your face in my hands
Knowing you would understand

You have become my hearts desire
Taking me to levels so much higher
You have opened this loves door
And I want to be with you forever more.

How can this be a fantasy? when I have you next to me!

poem by Louis Rams
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In The Valley

Said the yellow-haired Spirit of Spring
To the white-footed Spirit of Snow,
“On the wings of the tempest take wing,
And leave me the valleys, and go.”
And, straightway, the streams were unchained,
And the frost-fettered torrents broke free,
And the strength of the winter-wind waned
In the dawn of a light on the sea.
Then a morning-breeze followed and fell,
And the woods were alive and astir
With the pulse of a song in the dell,
And a whisper of day in the fir.
Swift rings of sweet water were rolled
Down the ways where the lily-leaves grew,
And the green, and the white, and the gold,
Were wedded with purple and blue.

But the lips of the flower of the rose
Said, “where is the ending hereof?
Is it sweet with you, life, at the close?
Is it sad to be emptied of love?”
And the voice of the flower of the peach
Was tender and touching in tone,
“When each has been grafted on each,
It is sorrow to live on alone.”

Then the leaves of the flower of the vine
Said, “what will there be in the day
When the reapers are red with my wine,
And the forests are yellow and grey?”
And the tremulous flower of the quince
Made answer, “three seasons ago
My sisters were star-like, but since,
Their graves have been made in the snow.”

Then the whispering flower of the fern
Said, “who will be sad at the death,
When Summer blows over the burn,
With the fierceness of fire in her breath?”
And the mouth of the flower of the sedge
Was opened to murmur and sigh,
“Sweet wind-breaths that pause at the edge
Of the nightfall, and falter, and die.”

poem by Henry Kendall
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The Invitation Of The Earth To Hear Its Songs....

the earth
if you listen enough
ears on those walls
buried
to each fiber of wood
has composed a lot of songs
for the goodness
of our
souls: the songs of the sea waves
against the sands, such a shushing sound
the thin air that kisses those daffodils
the soft feet of rain tiptoeing on the grass
the whispers of the flowing waters
from your fingers to the
skins on your belly
the lips that kiss
the bodies that meet in desire
rubbing against each
other on
lonelier nights
the flights of bird wings
above the treetops
the fluttering butterflies landing on the petals of a rose

sad is the man who does not hear all these
and love life
sadder is the man who hears all these
but shuts his heart
like slamming doors
locked
without keys

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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