Sullied
She plunges into the hot water
and begins to scrub. Brush and
soap on skin. She wants him off
and out of her. Undo him from her.
Unkiss his kisses, untouch his touches.
She breathes in. She reeks, stinks
of him. He seems to have penetrated
every orifice on her body. She pushes
herself under the water, holds herself
there, opens her eyes even the sting
brings no purification. She sits up and
holds the sides of the bath. Calm down
she tells her shaking hands and legs
but they disobey and carry on like
disobedient children in play. She tries
to think of other things. Think of
somewhere nice, some time once
enjoyed, some pleasure once had,
sipping of the best wine, greedy
eating of caviar or grape. But no.
Everything is focused on him and
the rape. She rubs and scrubs until
she's red and raw. Stop stop her
inner voice screams. Nothing is
what it seems. He pushes his way
even into her every thought now.
He seeps into every pore. The water
fails to clean. She sits there naked,
undone, brush in hand, hair in a mess.
This is not real she says, but knows
it is, she in the bath, wet, raw, sore
and sullied. Yes that's a word mother
would have used: sullied. Tainted,
tarnished, degraded or as Mother
would have said: dishonoured. She
focuses on each aspect of her flesh
as if seen for the first time. What
you focus on is your reality. Who said
that? Does it matter now? Dostoevsky?
The Idiot, that book. Who cares who
said what. The water is no longer hot.
He is still on skin and in orifice in spite
of the rubs and scrubs and tears and curses.
No longer the innocent, no more the
sipping of wine or eating of grape.
Just him and memory of the rape.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Brown Skin
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Where are your people from? maybe mississippi or an island
Apparently your skin has been kissed by the sun
You make me want a hersheys kiss, your licorice
Every time I see your lips, it makes me think of honey-coated chocolate
Your kisses are worth more than gold to me
Ill be your almond joy, youll be my sugar daddy
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Every time you come around, something magnetic pulls me and I cant get out
Disoriented, I cant tell my up from down
All I know is that I wanna lay you down
Every time I let you in, abracadabra magic happens as we swim
Higher and higher finally we reach heaven
Come back to earth and then we do it all again
Yeah..
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Skin so brown, lips so round
Baby how can I be down?
Beautiful mahogany, you make me feel like a queen
Tell me whats that thing you do that makes me wanna get next to you, yeah
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing Power
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Certain madness fills the air
It is termed as love I fear
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
My hearts broken pieces
Are once again at peace
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
Flattery upon Flattery
Love always sparkles without batteries
Lips upon lips
First a taste of your tongues tip
Admiration induces exploration
While love ignites imagination
I can feel your kissing power
And the sensational effect it showers
I can feel your kissing power
As you handle me like a delicate flower
Week legs
Pleasure begs
I can feel your kissing power
While you kiss me by the hour
Don't stop!
Be my hero not my flop!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skin Hair
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skin Hair…
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Showering Together (Love Poem)
Save water
Green clean
Share shower
Love living
Parents play
Kids away
Soap lather
Hot bodies
Skin close
Electric touch
Perfect passion
Warm towels
Wet kisses
Afternoon love
Siesta slumber
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scrub, Scrub, Rub-a dub dub
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning is such a chore.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning's such a bore.
Washing, dusting every day,
seems there is no end.
I know that when I'm finished
it will start all over again.
Windows, floors and kitchen sinks
just can't seem to stay clean.
The kids go out. The kids come in
and there's the same old scene.
Wash the clothes. Let them dry.
Put them on to wear.
Before the day is over
there's a spot that wasn't there.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub dub
when will it ever stop?
If I could find those rub-a dub men
I'd gladly give them my mop.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soft Spray
As gravity pulls river water down
A huge explosion of sound reverberates
And I feel the falling of the water
As if I was a part of the river
As the water glides over the high cliff
I strain to listen to ev'ry sound made
Expecting some profound revelation
To hear the words of God in the water
As the waterfall plunges to the earth
Releasing a soft spray that kisses me
I listen to the din of the water
Hoping to hear the lessons of nature
As I stand here listening to the roar
Of the waterfall moving before me
I also hear the peace surrounding me
Easing the chaos that torments my soul
As the soft spray kisses me, I simply
Relax and enjoy the calm of nature.
poem by Nate Flying Owl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Filthy
steel brush hair
uncut for a week
brown-out and
black-out
soap without water
dog waiting outside
telephone rings
no one in the house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Obama Wont Mama
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Obama wont mama no ship,
With folks on it lazy.
He's already warned there'll be some changes made.
It you think he'll let you sit,
You're crazy.
He's gonna make discipline stick quick.
If you don't believe it...
You'll believe it when you sweep up your ssshhhh...
Itsy bits.
With sweat and elbows greased to mix.
You wont have time for bitterness.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Ooooohhhh!
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
Change, real change you can believe.
You might as well roll up your sleeves...
Hand a dustpan to those sleeping.
Obama wont mama no ship,
With folks on it lazy.
He's already warned there'll be some changes made.
It you think he'll let you sit,
You're crazy.
He's gonna make discipline stick quick.
If you don't believe it...
You'll believe it when you sweep up your ssshhhh...
Itsy bits.
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
'WE CAN...'
And,
You will!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The hot hot sun
The hot hot sun
bakes
my skin skin skin
irksome infants
make
a din din din
could get under
my skin skin skin.
No
take a breath
a deep belly breath
let your diaphragm do the work
vorsprung durch inhallation
the oxygen bubbles into my blood
the heat touches my
bones
my mind absorbs those mutual benefits
slows, calms, immersed a gentle euphoria
and the warmth of the breeze embraces
I feel the joy joy joy
of the sun sun sun
on my skin skin skin
on this hot hot day!
poem by Robin Pratt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River And Her
in the slow history of the river flowing
she wants to mark her own name with her fingers
religiously she goes there on a ritual of her own
naked she dips her skin on the water
so soft are her feet on the bed of pebbles
deep down the fishes ask for more of her toes
touched the river begins to sing a song for her
the bamboo leaves keep watching what happens next
will love dance on the surface of flimsy reasons?
will passion appear and last forever?
the banks want to close in on them: the river and her
the sun is worried what will happen next
it did end, but it was sad, as sad as the butterfly that lost one of its wings.
the river loses its name as she plunges deep to the tight arms of death.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stolen Generation
They took me from my mother
But I didn’t even know
I was just a few months old
And she knew not where I’d go
She was a big black woman
I don’t know about my dad
Its now I have my grandchildren
That I’m starting to feel sad
I have blue eyes and had blonde hair
But it’s now greying gradually
I couldn’t say I was an Abo
Or they’ take the brush to me
Scrub away your blackness
Said the nuns in the Church school
Religion’s here to save you
But you must obey our rules
Rule one – you just be grateful
You’re in white society
Rule two – you must be silent
And accept humility
I scrubbed and scrubbed my body
Till I couldn’t scrub no more
The scrubbing didn’t make me white
Just made my skin red raw
I was made to feel ashamed you see
Of being just what I am
And those bastards in the priest house
Were even crueller than
Those who’d broke a family
And split us up at birth
That’s why they should say sorry
For all that they are worth.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Undo The Right
(willie nelson/hank cochran)
If you cant say you love me say you hate me
And that you regret each time you held me tight
If you cant be mine forever then forsake me
If you cant undo the wrong
Undo the right
It was right when you loved me only
But wrong when you held another tight
So before you go away and leave me lonely
If you cant undo the wrong
Undo the right
Its too late to say your heart is filled with sorrow
You cant undo whats done
Why do you try
So please so I can face the new tomorrow
If you cant undo the wrong
Undo the right
Its too late to say your heart is filled with sorrow
You cant undo whats done
Why do you try
So please so I can face the new tomorrow
If you cant undo the wrong
Undo the right
If you cant undo the wrong
Undo the right
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle's Shave.
Uncle’s Shave.
You used to watch Uncle
shave in front of the small mirror
propped on the edge
of the kitchen sink,
his face lathered
in white soap,
his cutthroat razor
held just a short distance
from his skin
by his right hand,
as the other hand
held the skin taut
in preparation
of the razor’s slide.
You stood behind
fascinated,
your young eyes
searching the mirror’s world
of Uncle’s face
and the performers start.
Uncle watched you
in the mirror,
his lips breaking
into a small smile,
the razor held
just above his ear,
his eyes staring above
the shaving foam,
taking in
your fascinated gaze,
the open mouth,
your hands copying
Uncle’s motion
in pretend shave.
Uncle drew the razor down
his cheek in slow motion,
the face becoming visible
as the soap gave way,
the hand dipping
the razor in water
to rid of foam,
to begin again,
more soap removed,
more skin revealed.
You copied Uncle,
but not so skilled.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teardrops
Teardrops running down your face
Teardrops running down your face
Diamonds of water, and salt from your body
Coming down to meet my kisses
Teardrops running down your face
Teardrops running down your face
Staining your skin and my skin and beginning
The stories that you cant begin
The way I feel could be despised but its a vision that I prize
Teardrops teardrops
Im not trying to make you feel pain
Or joy to make the tears flow
But when they roll unashamed - they move me so
Teardrops running down you, face
Teardrops running down you, face
Let me, let me brush them with my fingers
Comfort you and say its alright
Its so strong this way I feel sometimes I want to beg or steal
Teardrops teardrops.
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midwinter Spring
Cloudless sky big and blue,
pale yellow sun warms clear air.
Now comes a new day;
a new season begins,
where winter has been.
Where sorrow has been
a tiny huge shift toward healing,
toward hope.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
Fragile warmth touches chill soil,
tender shoots push toward the surface
seeking nourishing rays.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
A heart slowly opens in tentative inches,
pain still fresh and loud within;
blue sky reaches down.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
The chatter of baby birds
rises on fresh air,
touches the ear, turns the mind.
The heart hears a tiny huge voice consoling.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
(1/2009)
Her Wet Hair Feels Cool on My Skin
Her wet hair feels cool on my skin
As she came fresh from the shower.
She lies near me and rest begins.
Her whispers soft, a quiet wind
Caress my senses for an hour.
Her wet hair feels cool on my skin.
I’m at peace more than ever when
I lay down with her in her bower,
She lies near me and rest begins.
Now love’s sensations lie within
A subtle simple touch of power-
Her wet hair feels cool on my skin.
She holds my heart fast with a grin
Delicately, like a flower.
She lies near me and rest begins.
I say that now if this be sin
I don’t in fear of death cower.
Her wet hair feels cool on my skin:
She lies near me and rest begins.
2009
poem by William Mcgehee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy
I wanna look behind your eyes
And gently brush the hair back from the face
Cause baby I just realized
Seeing you there in that light
It's better to be kind than right
And I'm about to bridge this kiss between us
Cuz baby I'm ready to dig in
Ready for more than skin on skin
This is where love begins
So I say
I'm gonna tell you you're my man
Cuz it makes you happy
I wanna rush to hold your hand
Y'know it makes me happy
I'm gonna love you best I can
cuz I know it makes you happy
I know I've made some big mistakes
I learned the hardest lessons that way
So adios to foolish pride
I've got nothing left to hide
I stand here open wide
And everything inside of me is saying
Baby I'm ready to dig in
Ready for more than skin on skin
This is where love begins
So I say
I'm gonna tell you you're my man
Cuz it makes you happy
I wanna rush to hold your hand
It makes me so happy
I'm gonna love you best I can
Cuz I know it makes you happy
Oh, y'know I'll make you happy
And I wanna see you happy
I want us to be happy
And we're going to be happy
Cuz baby I'm ready to dig in
Ready for more than skin on skin
This is where love begins
I wanna rush to hold your hand
I wanna see you happy
I'm gonna love you best I can
Cuz y'know it makes you happy
Oh, y'know I'll make you happy
Y'know I wanna see you happy
I'm gonna tell you you're my man
I wanna hear you laughing
I wanna rush to hold your hand
And I love your smile
I'm gonna love you best I can
Cuz that's what makes me happy
Oh y'know I'll make you happy
And I want us to be happy
I'm gonna tell you you're my man
I wanna rush to hold your hand
I'm gonna love you best I can
Cuz I know it makes you happy
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dodo and The City
Dodo draws on the cigarette.
The smoke hits the throat.
The city sucks her in with its
huge sick well of emptiness.
Bagteller wanted her to go
to his place last night and make
passionate love. What a laugh
that'd been. Him and his fetishes.
The schoolgirl uniform was not
her thing. Too many memories.
She told him to stuff that in one
of his tight dark orifices and walked
out into the city's cold night. Went
home to her own place and took
a hot shower. She is still sore from
the scrub. She wants to scrub her
past away with the brush and soap.
Nothing washes away the memories
that have sunk deep. She wakes to
a new day. The city is buzzing with
the walking dead and half living.
The cigarette smoke fills her lungs
and then out into the air. Mother said
men were not to be trusted. Father
said don't listen to her she's biased
and bitchy and smells of sour cream.
Oh that I could open up my mind and
wash it out and not have to see that
shrink once a month just after my bleeds
have gone she says. Dr Glexity with his
black suit and blue tie one green eye and
one grey. All that darn money and nothing
to say. She inhales the smoke and the city
and the living and the dead and sucks them
into her lungs broken heart and stuffed head.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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