The Persistence Of My Memory
i am looking forward to see
molten clocks on my table
elongated days like rubber
heated with the fire from your
eyes
dripping silver spoons from
my porcelain cup
of coffee
i expect the flow of lava
in my bed
you say you are hot and
about to erupt
into a multiple orgasm
on my linen
well said, but not well done.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lava Lamp
In the half light of the evening
I could almost see you glow, I can tell by the way you're moving,
Time may be right to let you know,
you've got a many coloured halo, the body of venus
a babe rainbow and if I come on any closer, I might fall into your silhouette
but the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, lava lava lava lamp
indigo, violet and blue, can we meet where the edge is blur cause I am comin' atcha, like a bug eye heading for the burn
the truth is I can't stay away, no I wanna let you light my volcano
and maybe it's just my imagination, but you never know
because the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
so let it, so let it, so let it ...
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions Of Compatibility
I have long believed
there is no such thing
as being over sexed
just under served
questions of compatibility
range through variant multiple
levels of human interaction
relationships question mark bound
a nymphomaniac and an ice berg
at surface appearance are probably
a marriage in heaven made not
a hot tropical steamy romance
is found not
among polar waters
but who knows
currents may aid technology
in getting romance
buzz buzz
buzzing along
a fire once lit
may prove to be
an eternal flame
passion let loose
may sudden erupt
like dormant volcano
molten lava flowing
irresistible forces
unleashed flowing
into a salt sea of opposites
steaming into new shorelines
glowing red fire fed blazing
where once only darkness lived
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Molten or metallic marvels
I really truly don't know why
some things under the sun and sky
attract and catch my fancy
Quite queerly they happen to be
hot melting smelting solids
that melt into exquisite liquids.
Take for instance heated liquid gold
molten glass or molten brass
and to watch magma 'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any melting mass.
With similar bizarre ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine turns, oblivious of my admiration
Ah, I just love all that golden molten mass
Sometimes I even have such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving by simply imagining
the honey to be some liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant mini-lava
right before me glowing!
As for other mesmeric things
that I find real eye-catching
are those which everybody else finds ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold dust
in mankind's metallic materialistic lust.!
But I, I am allergic to dust. ;)
poem by S.zaynub Kamoonpuri
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Fire On Fire
Teddy gentry/ronnie rogers/greg fowler, 4:27
He was a stranger in a little town
She was sittin alone in a crowd
Listening to the old jukebox playin a song
From the moment we walked through the diner door
She felt something like never before
A feelin so strong right from the start
It wouldnt stop - it was more than a spark
Chorus:
Fire on fire they were burnin up
Over a coffee cup, under the table they touched
Fire on fire, in each others eyes they just had to try
cause fire on fire just wont die
It was gettin late but they had all night
They sat there talkin bout their lives
He was sellin, she uas gettin ready to buy
That ole neon light was glowin dim
But he could see by the way she was lookin at him
Tonight would be different, somethin had changed
His lonely heart was feelin a flame
Repeat chorus
Bridge
She needed him, he needed her
And they both knew, without a word
There was no question, there was no doubt
There was no way they could put it out
Fire on fire they were burnin up
Over a coffee cup, under the table they touched
Fire on fire, in each others eyes they just had to try
cause fire on fire, fire on fire
Fire on fire just wont die
Tag
Fire on fire
Just wont die
Fire on fire
(c) maypop music (a division of wildcountry, inc.) (bmi) used by pemission. all rights reserved.
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire vs Water
You see it there
That icy blue rock
Let's let the water flow
Let's let the light make it hot
The water moved
The moon will cause waves
Give them some grooves
Tell them to misbehave
Here is some land
Yours for you to roam
I built it with my fire
This molten lava stone
You see what has happened
what was blue
Now is green
Ever since people landed
It's been anything but clean
See them taking over
Their ice is nearly gone
It's fire vs water
I don't know which ones wrong
poem by ryan Cravatta
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Grandma's Silver
You met me
and I had given up.
You met me
and I took out the good china
from Grandma's hutch;
her gold-plated knives, forks and spoons
and the silver,
toasting you
that summer night
had both of us playing house.
I was the gourmet cook,
you were eating hearty
and wolfed down lustily my heart;
made me forget giving up
for giving it up
happily;
mostly from memory
and you were kind enough
not to notice
how awkwardly
and how long
my breathing took
to run to smooth.
It was the conversation
I believe
late into the night
that over-came me
re-mending those broken heart pieces
which laid themselves out carefully
on my dining room
table;
festooned
with grandma's
silver and gold-plated spoons.
We have gone on now through
paper, wood
and silver anniversaries;
golden
on our horizon;
nearing fifty years.
Thanks Grandma
for the silver-ware
and for him.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Still-life
Through the open French window the warm sun
Lights up the polished breakfast-table, laid
Round a bowl of crimson roses, for one -
A service of Worcester porcelain, arrayed
Near it a melon, peaches, figs, small hot
Rolls in a napkin, fairy rack of toast,
Butter in ice, high silver coffee-pot,
And, heaped on a salver, the morning's post.
She comes over the lawn, the young heiress,
From her early walk in her garden-wood,
Feeling that life's a table set to bless
Her delicate desires with all that's good.
That even the unopened future lies
Like a love-letter, full of sweet surprise.
poem by Elizabeth Daryush
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Molten Love
Lowering your thighs
...To mine
Set to take your ride
Lay me down on my bed
...rolling into the shadows
of the night
Entering into a neverworld
...without a care...we dare
There is no fright
With Passion...Carnal Lust
Tasting you, Like a thirst,
AWAKENING
The fires within you
Ride, Ride
Release The Lava
Of the passion feast,
Ride, Ride
My thickeness deep down to my soul,
Ride, Ride Till I die of desire,
Release the Molten Lava,
Molten
And Gold.
Peter LeBuhn
poem by Peter LeBuhn
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Drifting
The drift of water is like a stream
That drinks itself and has a dream.
When the ice has been bitten
There is liquid life and caution.
Where is the likeable fountain?
It resides in the square, near a mountain.
This will erupt, monstrous eruption
To keep fire and lava, interruption.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Ladybird
Tell me a story of mind over matter
The hope and glory of life ever after
The sound and the fury the cloak and the dagger
Days when we sink like a stone
Porcelain portraits and silver medallions
Plasticine soldiers that march in battalions
Angels of mercy and lifelong companions
Days when we sink like a stone
There a room somewhere with a different look
Where your secret life is an open book
Where the love we made was a chance we took
Days when we sink like a stone
Ladybird fly away our friends are gone
Ladybird fly away our house is on fire
Let us be lovers we'll melt after midnight
Hoist up the mainsail we'll coast through the daylight
Twisted like candles that fade in the half-light
Days when we sink like a stone
Well we die sometimes to begin again
When the same old dreams have the same old end
When we lose our mind or we lose our friends
Days when we sink like a stone
Ladybird fly away our friends are gone
Ladybird fly away our house is on fire
Ladybird fly away our friends are gone
Ladybird fly away our house is on fire
Your friends have gone
Porcelain portraits and silver medallions
Your friends have gone
Plasticine soldiers that march in battalions
Your friends have gone
Angels of mercy and lifelong companions
Tell me a story of mind over matter
The hope and glory of life ever after
The sound and the fury the cloak and the dagger
Ladybird fly away our friends are gone
Ladybird fly away our house is on fire
song performed by by Tears For Fears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lava
Hot lava comes down big monkey goes floatin
On a boiler coming down like rain (oh yeah)
Hot lava cools down [big babble lectric cap(? )]
Going [loco(? )] with the boiling ?
[got lava I mean always take(? )] ready to serve
With the hand.... .... you lost and you found
[got light it goes inside some boulder ....(? )]
He wants nothing but the [tip(? )] on your crown piggy! pi-ggy!
Hot lava, lava
piggy!
[big kick a mule piston banged up and lets boil er(? )]
[like patty and the people in mind(? )]
Big boiler make hot gray matter not ....
Like the [dragon poppin two inside(? )]
piggy! pi-ggy!
Hot lava, lava
piggy! pi-ggy!
Hot lava
Hot lava
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paradise Steakhouse
Id like to take you
To the edge of every morning
On a magic eiderdown
To a window chair
In the paradise steakhouse
Where theres a cup of silver coffee
Steaming chrome reflections
From the mist in your hair
Try not to watch me (try not to watch me)
Just call me after darkfall (call me after darkfall)
Ill bring a whip to sow
My seed on your land
In the paradise steakhouse
Theres a cup of silver coffee
A sheath of steel so you may hold
My sword in your hand
Ill cut you, divide you
Into tender pieces
No wings to fly away
Upon my dear
In the paradise steakhouse
On a plate upon a table
I will carve your name with care
To last the years
Id like to eat you (Id like to eat you)
All fire will consume you (fire will consume you)
Roast on the spit of love
On this arrow true
In the paradise steakhouse
Ill taste every finger
Baking [picking? ] in the ashes
Til the flames rise anew
[repeat first and second stanzas]
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning The Games Of This World
good men don't fall down
permanently as bad men don't stay that high
on top by reason of
their devices
permanently
in fact there is nothing permanent
without which
this world becomes absurd
like marble that cannot roll and spin
games will always be there
for as long as our eyes stay young like budding
blossoms
there is no one here who is permanently poor
and dumb
everyone learns to experience that pain and
opens like some bleeding hands
hearts that erupt from deep volcanic sleep
and covers a well lighted city at night
turning into a forest with all its trees devastated
in a new world of
all oceans
our eyes see nothing but a covered table
no spoons and plates
chairs tumbling down like mass execution
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Highway Junkie
(chris knight/sam tate/annie tate)
A hundred cups of coffee, five hundred cigarettes
A thousand miles of highway and I aint forgot her yet
But I keep on moving, I keep moving down the line
There aint nothing in my mirror, just a cloud of dust and smoke
But what do you expect when some old truckers heart gets broke
Yeah, truckers hearts gets broke
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
Ten miles out of nashville, I was doing a hundred and one
State boy me over and he said, wheres the fire, son?
He said, wheres the fire son?
I said man, there aint no fire, Im just running from a flame
Go on and write your ticket, but I aint the one to blame
That county judge tried to rob me blind.
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
So I rolled on down to memphis
I had nothing left to lose
I wanted to hear some rock and roll, but all they played was blues
I didnt wanna hear no blues
So I went to call up elvis and roger miller grabbed the phone
He said drive that 18 wheeler, boy, youre the king of the road
Said I was the king of the road
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time heals...
IT IS still the dog inside us
that tries to impress others with
the waggling of our
invincible tails,
The dragon that spits fire
and destroys houses and gardens
within us
still hides and never defeated
Outside our hearts and minds
The face shows the glow of the moon
calm, gentle
No sign of an earthquake or typhoon
Reserved like a table for two
Like lovers hugging on the lane
by the boulevard
You must admit
IT is a matter of keeping the balance
Molten lava inside
Yet a garden of roses and olive trees
Outside
One still has to figure out
The outcome
Time heals, Time judges.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Coffee!
Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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No Hero
By the blink of an eye, by the wink from the sun in the sky, so i kiss my wishes, bye bye - The moon can never tell, when the time is noon, silver shining cedar spoons - I have lost the door which unlocks my room, where i spade with less than a witch riding her broom - Why fear the unseen, i am happy to be sad, where have you been, does that mean i was bad - My flower is a tree, i am blind as a spider, with multiple eyes i refuse to see, the mirror is me - I am webbed and confused, i am about to be clouded - I have faked the lock to my gate, there is no key to unlock my fate - I am no hero, twice the zero, which creates the circles 2 ring the eight
poem by Unic Cjonr
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Unruly Dragon in Porcelain Equilibrium
Feral fires in your fluid soul
the magma of your volatile thoughts
are bubbles of molten emotions
erupting from the crater
of a flaming volcano.
The raving lava gushes forth wildly.
It carries suspended crystals,
it streams down the mountain slopes,
drawing over them
intractable arabesque patterns.
Then high above the mountain peaks
an eagle spreads its wide wings
among amorphous clouds
flying free boldly in the crumbly sky.
And like quietude after a storm,
your restless mind,
a turbulent brain craves for calm
and respite: A passionate heart
striving for soothing relief
in porcelain equilibrium.
But the unruly dragon
must cascade through wild rapids
before the tamed river of fervor
can flow slowly
from the restricting gorge
into the placid lake
of chamomile harmonies.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Self denial is like self burial.
The middle age %
Women at forty are vulnerable.
Beware! Your estrogen levels are dropping.
Why not make the most of it right now?
Shyness has been shed; awkwardness has gone.
It is time for you to take the lead
When it comes to your own orgasm,
The orgasm that’s eluded you thus far,
From the monotony you stuck in.
You must reveal yourself in newfound youth.
You must assert yourself with newfound guts.
Yes, you must take the control of your sex.
If not, it is you who are the loser.
At this stage you are the most attractive.
Composure added, you are in glow.
As the sex is important part of the life,
Your assets unused must not go waste.
It is true you are hungry for strangers.
Men are hungrier for women of your age.
Now a stranger only can explore you.
He only can drive you to get orgasm.
It is time you tasted orgasm again.
Finding orgasm is not breaking home.
It is just physical gratification.
Man must shut his eyes and woman, her qualms.
He must let her get what he couldn’t give her.
If he let go of her, he’ll get such like her.
You need not elope, nor own a paramour.
Hire a man and fire him after he fired.
It’s not a crime when done with the knowledge.
Men must disarm his possessiveness
And abandon his probing tendencies.
15.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hibernation Of The Self....
this door is closed
the pavement leading to
the stair is not even
allowed to receive
morning messages
the self is hibernating
on winter time
it is putting fire upon
its being
let no one enter
or one gets burned
in this hearth
of cinders
this molten lava
that purifies
rocks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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