We Have Not Met Yet
as you read my poems
you imagine what my face would be
given said facts and thoughts like
the way i spend my nights writing
and facing the computer till twilight,
i must be thin, and since i have
lesser sleep, i must have dark
deep, sunken, almond eyes
like the insomniac's night,
my lips may have cracked
due to many coffee cups
giving liveliness to my lines,
my shoulders may have fallen,
due to extreme exhaustion,
my skin may have dried and
my hair may have been scattered
by the strong wind
like those poets who no longer
care for their health and hygiene.
i am sorry but you are wrong.
You have to see me to know me.
You have to touch my hand and
feel the warmth of my palms.
You have to touch my hair to
feel the softness of my soul.
i will that poet who orders plain
mineral water instead of beer.
I may wear a black coat but
there will be no white carnations
inside the pocket of my chest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Eyes In That Picture Insist On Asking Why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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90
your eyes in that picture insist on asking why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Touch Of
The Touch of Your Kiss
A Touch of Your Hand
The touch of your Soft Hair
A Touch of Your Beautiful Eyes
The feel of your hair touching My Face
The Sweet smell of rain that touches Your Soul
A soft touch of a babies skin
Touch of our hearts since we met
The Touch of your smile
A Touch of your love is all I Really Need.
By Charles Kuehnle AkA xxwhitestallionx
poem by Charles Kuehnle
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Cirque
Alone in a dark room
A figure sits
A woman
A girl
Bedraggled hair
White face
Red lips
Scarred
Arms crossed over her chest
X
Clasping each shoulder
Lightly
As though afraid to touch
One hand shakes
Quivers
All she can hear is
Razor blades over a violin
Screech
Her hair is wrinkled
Wet
Like her lips
Chapped and red
Glistening
She’s not in pain
She giggles
Insane
Looks up
Dark eyes
Circled in black
Sunken like pits
Hair, so pale,
It could be green
Dress of purple
Lilac
Fuchsia
Her arms unfold
Her smile widens
Into Glaswegian
She runs her tongue
Across her teeth
Like she’s hungry
“Smile, much? ”
She’ll giggle
As she unveils a knife
poem by Rebecca Kate Summers
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Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman
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To The Other World
try standing naked by this mirror
see yourself to every detail
look closer to your eyes
count the waves of your eyelashes
open your mouth and see how many teeth you have
all white, pure white lining up on your pink gums
feel your lips with your fingertips
feel the pulp the flesh of the lower lip
to the upper lip
touch your hair
do not imagine them all black
closely they are not at all
move a little bit closer and see your body
this beautiful human body
flesh, contours, curves, some muscles
the whole of your skin wrapping
everything in your body holding them all
nothing falls, on this erect body, this
god before you, standing steel-like with dignity
in front of the mirror
do not claim you have seen your soul with your eyes
do not lie
be honest to yourself now,
alone, you are alone, do not imagine
any god, any soul, any spirit,
just be honest,
touch your body with your hands
feel the joy of having this body
your body, pinch a part of it to feel
not pain, but just to feel that you are alive,
do you ever ask what made these parts stay as one?
look again at the mirror of this stature
your body, it is you, touching your body
take a hammer, and destroy the mirror
shatter everything to pieces
this is the world without a mirror
there is nothing to reflect you now
nothing to imagine, it is you, the real you
do you ever ask now, where is that other world?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fingers
In that photo of yours
I saw you –
Your face, your shoulders,
Your hands, and then
Your fingers…
My lips quivered
So did my hands
And I felt like touching you,
With my quivering lips
And unsure hands,
Those very beautiful
Exquisite fingers…
Reading your poems of love
And pondering over your letters…
Sometimes I imagine
You writing to me
With those very same
Slender and artistic
Adept fingers…
Very often I feel
And wonder…
If your fingers
Ever do ache
Writing so long,
So nice,
And so very endless,
Day after day…
And if they do, my Love
I feel like pampering them
With tender, loving care
A kiss here, a kiss there…
Holding them,
Caressing them,
Sucking them slow…
Your fingers in my mouth
Taking turns to go
One by one,
I feel them,
Nibble them,
Suckle them,
Make love to them,
Within the deep recesses
Of my oral crevice…
Till they feel pampered
And satiated
And I feel the same too…
Contented and happy
Making love to you
With your fingers
In my mouth…
A wonderful tryst
Of love and lust,
Warmth and arousal,
And then if you wish…
And if I'm also willing,
We can play this game
All night long…
Where you don’t win
And I don’t lose
We both win over together
And lose ourselves
To each other…
I give free rein to
Your fingers…
To touch, feel
And explore
The inner crevices
And every pore
Of my body…
The mouth has had its turn
Now, do you wish to go
Further down..?
And see how it feels
To caress my breasts,
My derriere and my
Yoni,
With those seeking,
Exploring fingers of yours…
You’ve penned a lot of poetry
And your letters intoxicate me…
How about writing
Some letters of love
And a few lines of love ballads
On the spaces and margins
Of my body…
Dipping your fingers,
And drinking into
The juice of my
Dripping Yoni…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I Feel Your Touch
I shall not cut short my hair
Still I feel touch of your finger
in my hair
I do feel how your finger crawl
inside my dark hair.
How can I meet you again
You are beyond my touch
You are beyond my vision
I fear if my body rots
The body once you loved.
poem by Devil Poet
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X2
finding the self in the self
gives you the wrong path
do not look to the stars
you are never there
look at the ground and
touch the hand of the blind
talk to the mute and be
the ears of the deaf
only can you find your eyes
in their eyes
your hands can feel the
warmth
that is not found within the
lines of your palms
only then can you hear
the sounds of your longing
that you can only understand
from their hunger
yourself is not in yourself
it is in the other
your heart is not in your
chest
it is in the emptiness of
another.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do not read my poems…. [for YOU ]
Do not read my poems…
After I am dead
As a lament, a wail
An elegy, a requiem
Do not read my poems…
After I am gone
When no more I can
Hear your velvet voice.
Do not read my poems…
Alone without me
To comment along
And read with you
But, do read my poems
When I beside you lie
With my head resting
On your supporting arm
Listening to you read
In whisper, in kisses
In silence, in love
In sleep, in dream
Watching you feel
Every word I wrote
I’ll close my eyes - Love
Brush aside my hair
With your breathe
Which half veils my face
Sleepless fevered I wrote
Read me my poems
Now sing me a lullaby
Rock me to sleep
On your broad chest
Diving into your eyes
A thousand times
I am refreshed
By your smile
I’ll write on you a poem
Traced by my fingertips
To be etched in your heart
And burnt into your soul!
So, do not read my poems…
poem by Angelina Pandian
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What is it all about
We try to talk about many things
Petty and not so vulgar
We try to overwhelm ourselves
With so much words as I choose
What to put to make you marvel
And you pretend you marvel
That I make sense, but in truth
That is not the point of this meeting
Of two souls, it is the meeting of bodies
Of two bodies, needing each other’s warmth
And wrath, as I tell you about something
Interesting, you know that I am just
Pretending, my eyes are looking at every
Corner of your skin, the tip of your fingers
Wanting to touch me, too,
The softness of your body, the lines in
Your curvatures, swaying towards
My lips, I stop, I kneel before your
Gentleness, as you close your eyes
As you hold my hair, as you caress
My neck, my arms, my chest and you
Have sympathies for my gentleness
My humiliation, you ask me with the
Signal of your hands, and eyes, and
Lips that I rise up
To kiss you, it is all about it, and
We have no chance saying words
Again, we breathe each other’s longings
We fill our mutual emptiness, like we
Are all cups now filled with air.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gone
As I lay here
I feel you laying behind.
I know you just want to be near,
To relax and rest your mind.
I feel your arms wrapped around me,
So strong, but yet still gentle,
Pulling me closer to your body
Being ever so careful.
Hearing you smell my hair
And feeling your breath on my neck
Right before you kiss me there.
You don't even bother to check
Because you know there is a smile spreading across my lips.
I hear you laugh a little in my ear
As your hand slides down to my hip
And your giggling is all I can hear.
You run your fingers through my hair
While you kiss the back of my head.
I can just tell how much you care,
With just the two of us in this bed.
I feel our own, unique closeness
As we just lay there together.
Only feeling you touch me with tenderness
And no need to say anything to one another.
I can feel the warmth coming off of your bare chest
And the strong muscles in your arms.
You're like my personal life vest
That will keep me away from harm.
I feel the tension in your body start to ease
And your grip on me begins to slacken.
Even though you give my hand a squeeze
I know it is just your reflexes kicking in.
Your breathing begins to even out
As you whisper, ' I love you. '
Without a single feeling of doubt
I say, ' I love you too. '
I roll over and open my eyes
In such shock I can't even yawn.
I feel like I'm going to die
Realizing that you are gone.
poem by Ashley Reese
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Caveman Head
Feel my body breathing in
Touch the softness of my skin...
I am very beautiful
I can be so beautiful...
I am very beautiful
I could be successful...
My hands are moving
My feet are tied
Watch the way my hair falls down
See the way my hair falls down
I am very beautiful
I can be so beautiful
Touch the softness of my skin
Feel my body breathing in
My hands are moving
My feet are tied
My eyes are closing
My mouth is wide
I will let you touch me
If you want to touch me
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am touched and will not be able to sleep
he touched her
thru the fingers
of his poem
about the deep
night and the
sleepless one
a true story about
him and her
writing, deep,
deep into the night,
about sleeplessness,
why?
did he not tell her once
that he never sleeps?
did she not believe him?
did he not tell her
that his poems come
in the depths of darkness
from the dark recesses of
his dimming soul?
at a time when twilights
have not even sprouted
yet?
that his deep thoughts
come like some strangers
capricious and whimsical
and on shorter notice
leave without goodbyes?
now, the cycle grips him
again, he writes unceasingly
like he is being chased by
his own ghosts,
like he is one cat
disturbed by the shadow
of his own rebelling tail,
he shall write,
and if she too
is not sleeping at all,
tonight
then she must write,
like him as if both of
them are twins
in thoughts,
and if there is nothing to
be written, why not read
and tell him what he is
blindly writing?
perhaps,
he will soon understand
his very own tragedies
perhaps she can figure
out the answers in his
written works
she must touch him,
like her brother or even
like her lover
and even kiss him
and he will sleep,
perhaps, soundly, tamed
by the softness of her love
perhaps, the answer to
all his questions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Insomniac
there is something in me that does not sleep
and all the rest are protesting in these
sacrifices
the bed is warm it is hot it has fire and it will burn me
i need to step outside
to feel the rain asking for more water
to cool me
i am here in this pool of water
water poems, cool lines of water poems
some pails of poems some lines that lull
some pills of poems
that i swallow
to make me sleep
but when? these poems do not have the word
sleep, or weary, or bore
they have this word they like
insomniac
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Dating A Woman Not Your Wife
oh i know how it feels
i wear black
a coat to blend to the night
when i date
a woman not my wife
i imagine a room
a bottle of champagne
a glass
i imagine i undress myself
have my shower
with her
together
we clean ourselves with soap
and water
at the hotel
and then we wipe ourselves
with a clean white
towel
and we spray perfume
to our warm bodies
we imagine
we sleep tonight
and do
the things we have long imagined
we imagine
we wake up the following morning
some light
filtering in
the venetian blinds
some lights
stab our eyes
and we feel the hurt after
the pleasures
that even outside the room
of the hotel that night
we still imagine
sometimes we imagine we have no guilt at all
but it is always there
we still imagine
and we imagine we can sleep soundly
on eyes closed
we travel somewhere else thinking about the first paradise
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just to see your smile
Just to see your smile
Just to see your smile
The stars gather in the sky
And to feel your touch
The wind passes by
Just to see your smile
The waves hit the shores
And the sun wakes up so early
To see you offcourse
Just to see your smile
Fragrance comes into flowers
And to touch your hair
Water pours down in showers
Just to see your smile
The moon follows you everywhere
There’s someone else too who
Often follows you, if you care
Just to see your smile
I can bring down the stars
And decorate your way
With beautiful flowers
Just to see your smile
I have waited for years
Leading a life that was
Sunken deep in tears
Just to see your smile
I can give away
Everything I have
Without any dismay
Just to see your smile
Gives me happiness without measure
I wish I could see it
On your face forever
Just to see your smile
I thank God for these eyes
In five feet four inches
My whole world lies
poem by Vivek Mehta
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See Me In The Mirror
See me in the mirror if you want to
See me in the mirror if you really want to
Maybe not too clear, but the face you'll see is mine
Do you feel my eyes burning through you
Do you feel the burn when my eyes see through you
Do you see my eyes when they burn into your mind
I can feel the teardrops hit the ground where I'm layed
I can feel you breathing while I sleep through the day
See you in a vision in the dark with no light?
Your soul may go to heaven, but your heart's mine tonight
Do you feel my skin when you touch me
Do you feel my skin when you reach and touch me
Cold and blue and thin but it's still somehow alive
And you can feel my blood running through you
You can feel the rush of my blood run through you
You can feel the gush when my blood runs up your spine
And I can feel the teardrops hit the ground where I'm layed
I can feel you breathing while I sleep through the day
See you in a vision in the dark with no light?
Your soul may go to heaven, but your heart's mine tonight
See me in your mirror if you want to
See me in the mirror if you really want to
Maybe not too clear, but the face you'll see is mine
See me in the mirror, mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror, mirror
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mind Dance
I caught my reflection in the mirror
It was my own hand that ran through my hair,
I listened as my favorite artist crooned
Closed my eyes
Imagined your touch
There in the warmth of your lap,
I rest my head
My eyes stay closed
Your hand
The hand of love and warmth
Gently caresses my face,
My mouth
And slowly
Your fingers run through my hair
From the base of my roots
to the tips of the strand
You touch me,
And I am whole.
poem by Nancy Fischer
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You're My Temptation
Don't touch your lips
Don't wear your hair like that
I feel your presence all around me
Don't get too close
Don't move your eyes like that
Because they're deep enough to drown me
It don't get hot like this in Heaven
You fool me with your angel face
Your master knows where I'm my weakest
Mercy please
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Last Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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