Taken to the Cleaners
TAKEN TO THE CLEANERS
Role reversal takes rake by surprise.
Chips down, chipper chaser's chased. Heart aches.
Stakes down, he ups the ante, thereby tries
to flee from trap she sets with sapphire lakes
whose beams are bait, placate to circumsize
escape attempts. Net tightens, instinct based.
Dynamite from unsolicited sighs
smoulders first, then bursts as lust replaced
in context hunt and hunter, two soft eyes
turn tables. Taken to the cleaners, haste
finds calculations quite awry and cries
foul as pride kneels down to whim's trim waist.
Anticipations sweeten exercise,
add spice to life as Cupid's dart's encased
in heart that trap discovers just to late,
with man, bereft of wits, left to dire fate.
2 May 2010 revised 5 May 2010
for previous version see below
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Taken to the Cleaners
Role reversal takes stakes by surprise
when chips were down, with chipper chaser to chased,
dynamite from unexpected sighs
would splutter first than burst as lust replaced
in context hunt and hunter whose soft eyes
turned tables. Taken to the cleaners, haste
finds calculations quite awry and cries
foul as pride kneels down to whim's trim waist.
2 May 2010
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Whole Soul Down Coal Hole
Without him life hangs on a whim, missed cue, as bit role stumbles,
bitter pill popped, swilled, heart cropped, down hole whole soul sole tumbles.
Angst's weight frustrations magnifies, wraith faith can't comfort, care,
existence seems unjustified, dreams darken, dread despair
replaces scope hope faces where together two may share
tomorrows linked together free from heartbreak, grief of grumbles.
No issue new's discovered to avoid void's rendezvous
as heart and vein, without him vain appear, without a clue.
Burnt bridge of sighs with background skies black as an impasse where
no paradise may meet lost eyes, hope dies, all seems unfair,
no echo wise saves, heartfelt cries regret twin song strong, rare,
as gibbering ghost's grey-greenish hue mocks eyes that once seemed blue.
(1 May 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dynamite
Well send me love in a package labelled dynamite
I wanna feel an explosion when I hold you tight
I got a powerhouse reception waiting for you
When you come back to your loving babys arms again
Come back Im dynamite
Come back Im dynamite
Well give me kisses that explode before my very eyes
I know the sight of you could generate a million sighs
Im all set for detonation baby dont you know
Three two one zero there I go
Im dynamite
Im dynamite set to explode
Come back Im dynamite
Come back Im dynamite
Sail across the stars and to a silvery moon
If you wanna know what heavens like youll be there soon
Come back Im dynamite
Come back Im dynamite
Well give me kisses that explode before my very eyes
I know the sight of you could generate a million sighs
Im all set for detonation baby dont you know
Three two one zero there I go
Come back come back cos Im dynamite to be with
Come back to your loving babys arms again
Come back Im dynamite
Come back Im dynamite
Sail across the stars and to a silvery moon
If you wanna know what heavens like youll be there soon
Come back Im a time bomb
Come back my fuse is lit
Come back Im dynamite
Come back if you dont come back to me
Come back Im going to self-destruct
Come back Im dynamite
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spent
SPENT
So seldom she sees him –
sometimes twice a week –
stays free for stray whim
to tease, tousle, peek.
When he leaves salt tears swim,
then she grieves, fears weak,
brown eyes, russet rim,
pearls course down, streak cheek.
She wakes out on a limb
for his sake, rake sleek,
the chances seem slim
he’ll wedding bespeak.
Over half-truths he’ll skim
though true love she’ll seek –
no commitments from him –
sad heart cries, sighs bleak.
19 November 1977 revised 17 November 2008
robi03_0142_robi03_0000 XXX_LUX
for previous version entitled Borrowed Time see below
Borrowed Time
So rarely she sees him, –
two to three times a week, –
though free for his stray whim
to tease, tousle, speak.
When he leaves her, salt tears swim,
then she grieves, from fears weak,
brown eyes russet of rim,
down pearls course, streak each cheek.
Over half-truths he’ll skim
although true love she’ll seek, –
no commitments from him –
her heart is so bleak!
19 November 1977
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Completing All The Touches
Her pupil shone –
Black stole a peek
Her smile wore sleek
Beneath a knowingness
That I would seek
A slipping down of garments,
Jealous of their role
To hide the jewels that complement,
Completing all the touches.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Lines of Lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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All are hunters
Everyone is a hunter;
Everyone must hunt for food.
As a hunter, one’s no mercy.
Justice has no ultimate role.
09.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire Hot Mama
Where would you like that chaser?
Inside,
To the side...
Or in an ounce cup to chuck?
Where would you want that chaser?
Let me know,
Before I leave.
Where would you like that chaser?
Inside,
To the side...
Or in an ounce cup to chuck?
Where would you want that chaser?
Let me know,
Before I leave.
Where would you want that chaser?
Where would you want that chaser?
Where would you want that chaser?
Before I leave.
Oooohhhwhere would you want that chaser?
Where would you want that chaser?
Where would you want that chaser?
Before I leave.
Where would you like that chaser?
Inside,
To the side...
Or in an ounce cup to chuck?
Where would you want that chaser?
Let me know,
Before I leave.
No sense keeping the oven on...
If you're ready for an exit!
And I want to see you,
As a fire hot mama!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dreamed Words
Love cannot be
in a better
place
next to the dry cleaners
on Tuesday.
poem by Malcolm McGill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our great cities
Without armies of cleaners
Uninhabitable
quote by by Oskar Hansen
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A Superscription
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between;
Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen
Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell
Is now a shaken shadow intolerable,
Of ultimate things unutter'd the frail screen.
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,--
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Sonnet XCVII: A Superscription
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also called No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between;
Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen
Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell
Is now a shaken shadow intolerable,
Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen.
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that winged Peace which lulls the breath of sighs
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The House of Life: 97. A Superscription
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between;
Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen
Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell
Is now a shaken shadow intolerable,
Of ultimate things unutter'd the frail screen.
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,--
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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XCVII A Superscription
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between;
Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen
Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell
Is now a shaken shadow intolerable,
Of ultimate things unutter'd the frail screen.
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,--
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The archers
I
Stripped to the waist, his copper-coloured skin
Red from the smouldering heat of hate within,
Lean as a wolf in winter, fierce of mood--
As all wild things that hunt for foes, or food--
War paint adorning breast and thigh and face,
Armed with the ancient weapons of his race,
A slender ashen bow, deer sinew strung,
And flint-tipped arrow each with poisoned tongue,--
Thus does the Red man stalk to death his foe,
And sighting him strings silently his bow,
Takes his unerring aim, and straight and true
The arrow cuts in flight the forest through,
A flint which never made for mark and missed,
And finds the heart of his antagonist.
Thus has he warred and won since time began,
Thus does the Indian bring to earth his man.
II
Ungarmented, save for a web that lies
In fleecy folds across his impish eyes,
A tiny archer takes his way intent
On mischief, which is his especial bent.
Across his shoulder lies a quiver, filled
With arrows dipped in honey, thrice distilled
From all the roses brides have ever worn
Since that first wedding out of Eden born.
Beneath a cherub face and dimpled smile
This youthful hunter hides a heart of guile;
His arrows aimed at random fly in quest
Of lodging-place within some blameless breast.
But those he wounds die happily, and so
Blame not young Cupid with his dart and bow:
Thus has he warred and won since time began,
Transporting into Heaven both maid and man.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trim and mow the lust.
Lust is grass, rooted in blood.
Trim it and mow it to a lawn.
Grow it for a fodder or
Let it die on its own soon.
Don’t pluck it or uproot it.
Then you will become barren.
03.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I didn't fight to get women out from behind vacuum cleaners to get them onto the board of Hoover.
quote by Germaine Greer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soulless Dynamite
The skin bleeds
eyes so white
Welcome to my soulless dynamite
It Invites
The devil so deep
Ride my rails
Pound in the heavy rusty nail
From place to place
The video erased
In ankle bracelet that only needs a single key
Can you feel the divinity?
Are you another humanitarian?
Save the world one person at a time
Stand up and fall in line
Are you ready to get served?
Do you think it is not what you deserved?
Well you earn what you earn
And you urn what you urn
Lust is never a must
Its a kiss that turns into an evil touch
Its not the kind that speaks of love
Its the kind that brings misery to the already used
Are you yet confused?
Well welcome to my soulless dynamite
It'll tear you apart
It's never to unite
All it brings is fright
Through the blind mans eyes
The role dies
See if it a double I
If it is yours better have something to give
You took a chance
A risk
So brisk
Gambling the materialistic things away is always okay
If its your fate
But if the thread is a little more intertwined
You ruined a life
That was not meant to be undermined
No matter the point of view
You screwed up when you were made to choose
Welcome to my soulless dynamite
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Love, Daughter of Lust.
Lust attracts man and woman;
Lust gives birth to love in them.
Love inhibits lust since then.
Lust starves and seeks to escape.
Adultery seems attractive.
18.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fantasy IV
Pounce of nipple
Snatches,
Catches me off guard
Flounce and ripple
Thro' the breasts
Arrests
Landing hard,
I'm flung upon my back
To analyse the ceiling -
No appealing under stress
Now under dress -
Panties gone
And she upon
My countenance -
I rouse to bait
Her feminine way
Lead astray by
Aromatic warming
Of her womanhood,
I tune her body's
Resonance
Thro' eloquence of tongue -
Her shrieking
Highly strung
We up the play
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
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lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eyes Of An Angel
She once looked into an angel's eyes.
No matter how hard that angel tries,
The angel can't disguse,
The compassion in the angel's eyes.
The angel denies,
The angel doesn't see the tears she cries,
Every time the angel comes near, a peice of hear heart dies,
All because of the angel's eyes.
She hates the angel, but the angel's eyes,
Make up for all the lies,
And at night the angel flies,
Watches her dream about the angel's eyes.
She stops and sighs,
Stops crying when she really tries,
Thinks about pain and its enormous size,
Then, yet again, cries.
The tears she cries,
The heart that dies,
When she sighs,
Will they ever be noticed by the angel's eyes?
poem by Jackie Crow
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Heartfelt Eyes
The Heart Feels…
The thirst of these eyes
Feelings of the Heart
Flow in the silent cries
of these tearful eyes.
The Heart and these Eyes
Bond well with their sighs
and cries, as if they share
'made for each other' ties.
As the heart lives on
Till the day it dies,
Bidding these eyes
Its Final Goodbyes…
It will always share
This Special Bonding
With its Heartfelt Eyes.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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