Ha- thats funny!!! Kisses Quote

Where the hell is my POEM??? Ha ha ha kisses ya'll Quote

I pray theses words
Find you warm and well,
I pray upon the Sun
To cast on you a spell.

One of happiness and joy
To last your life through,
One of strength and courage
To light the fire within you.

I pray these words
Find you warm and well,
I pray upon the Moon
To cast on you a spell.

One of pride and honour
So that you may shine bright,
One of protection and guidance
For all your days and nights.

I pray these words
Find you warm and well,
I pray to Heaven
Watch over my angel. Quote

If ozzie is going to dedicate a poem to a model, here is one for my favorite.......CX
A Mango is a Mango
A plum is a plum
A kiss is not just a kiss
Without some tongue
So open up your mouth
And close your eyes
and I will give your tongue
some exercise
AriesHot


Awwww how romantic, a poem for me! I am up for a game of some tongue twisting
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Dudley-do-ride i never seen that part of you hehe,You look great as poet
very nice..!!!
btw : I miss youuuuuuuuu Quote

Awwww how romantic, a poem for me! I am up for a game of some tongue twisting



That is how i roll babe

Btw...i am always up for some tongue twisting. Quote

Dudley-do-ride i never seen that part of you hehe

lol That's right

But not too surprising... You can even be married to a person for years and miss large swaths of what they are or can do.

Miss ya too sweetie : ) Always in my thoughts.

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There are no more torments, a pain, light.
Has not regretted heart to lose...
Also there is no dream, there is no necessary answer,
And whether it is necessary for us to search for them in general?...
(c) �dάimō η �

there is a heart, is!
Between all fights -
One, the uniform beginning.
As the bird at deaths door, all is torn
In the way end...
To sources called...
One uniform beginning Is not present light in it, a ball you crowned Death...
Dreams...
And all having burnt down, will begin with the beginning
As did not shout, damned!.
There is no death -
Stink...
Between all breathes...
Between all the died hearts,
Up to fly also hears...
That here the end...
The Circle of a life, death -
Here the entertainment, is stately?
Death, for death do not wait It it is crafty...
Also it is lonely again at theatre Where you were the puppeteer...
Dolls are not present,
and harvest gathering - Alas... Alas...
And loneliness of a trapeze -
That the future in them...
The Theatre is full of deaf thoughts,
And a verse... A verse... A verse. .
But all in the beginning -
There where heart fights And still burns,
That flame that is torn And shivers... Shivers... Shivers...
I a flame... I heart... (c) � đemīurge � Starik

the Serenade in Night...
Deaf groans, cry also thoughts
On what? About Dream?
Soul at a hall �������,
Clearing up in the sleep.
And the dream this marvellous �
Love, All is closer it,
All repeats again �
Somewhere there is far �
Love is an ego of consciousness,
What we know? To grow fond about itself forgetting, of Itself do died �
to Grow fond that not imperiously
That in a life is not present,
the Meaning of the life not often
Causes the answer �
Sense is necessary to those who has died
In gray days,
But the love returns
On road of Ways �
These dreams in consciousnesses!
The same dream �
It is fated �� will clear up, But what for if it �
That great happiness,
And in a gloom of night in it
I Will revel, Only a song sound.
A serenade about the world
For the world is love!
Serenade of that Lyre,
About deleting of traces �
Trampled down and forgotten.
This small dream, is not present
Time, And rest is uplifted �
(c) � đemīurge � Starik
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For you :

How we got to meet was a mystery to me
I like to think it was faith, it just had to be
And to show mother nature still amazes
you have a body filled out in all the right places
Completed with seductive eyes in a pretty face
that was what made your room a welcome place
Sure I was attracted too you beauty to begin with
but to say that is all is a urban myth
Your sparkling personality makes you a gem
that shines on my screen through the cam
Your witty and often put a smile on my face
especially when you put the rude ones in there place
To chat with you is pure pleasure
in short your my little treasure Quote

Angel on dirty to a floor, I more so cannot...
Angel on dirty to a floor, give I you I shall lift...

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Drink juice of a dream, fill my ashes,
I a regret and tears.
I have sold eternity, being unsteady in circles,
As roses are captivating...

Give me a hand, we together ��������;
Angel on dirty to a floor.
Oathes are forgotten, in what we shall turn back,
On same fire I shall burn down...

Candles have died away, crystal ������,
Are weaved in a dark shawl.
Ashes is buried at heart Oscolicuy,
In the sky forgotten Vangal...

���� forgive, the traitor mercenary,
The brother it is called in dreams.
From a tree last leaves have fallen,
The phantom costs in the gate...

Lines of destiny, a texture of the Universes,
Hell and treasured Paradise-
Simply were lost in grief autumn,
The spirit is moved for edge.

How all is , about My God and where I?
�����, about ����� you are right.
Showers lost by death nasty,
Is only in forgetful...

Drink juice of a dream, the Sister rescue us,
For the fallen do not search in darkness.
Sparkles of Eternity, drop from eyes,
Tears should be in water...

15.03.09 Quote

After all...

Drink juice of a dream, fill my ashes,
I a regret and tears.
I have sold eternity, being unsteady in circles,
As roses are captivating...

Give me a hand, we together Let's incorporate;
Angel on dirty to a floor.
Oathes are forgotten, in what we shall turn back,
On same fire I shall burn down...

Candles have died away, crystal of leather,
Are weaved in a dark shawl.
Ashes is buried at heart Oscolicuy,
In the sky forgotten Vangal...

���� forgive, the traitor mercenary,
The brother it is called in dreams.
From a tree last leaves have fallen,
The phantom costs in the gate...

Lines of destiny, a texture of the Universes,
Hell and treasured Paradise-
Simply were lost in grief autumn,
The spirit is moved for edge.

How all is , about My God and where I?
Dante, about Dante you are right.
Showers lost by death nasty,
Is only in forgetful...

Drink juice of a dream, the Sister rescue us,
For the fallen do not search in darkness.
Sparkles of Eternity, drop from eyes,
Tears should be in water...

15.03.09
Demiurge for N�ko and Naama

Bye all my friends... Quote

I'm hard and ridged
but you are acting frigid
guess I have take thing in my own hands
since I can't get into your pants

PS: not about any of the sexy models here so please don't take offense, unless you want to spank me for it than I'm yours. Quote

Not a poem but my entry in the contest for best entrance to a scene, literature/light/shakespearean:

Biondello:
Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old
jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair
of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled,
another laced, an old rusty sword ta'en out of the
town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless;
with two broken points: his horse hipped with an
old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred;
besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose
in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected
with the fashions, full of wingdalls, sped with
spavins, rayed with yellows, past cure of the fives,
stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the
bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten;
near-legged before and with, a half-chequed bit
and a head-stall of sheeps leather which, being
restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been
often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth
six time pieced and a woman's crupper of velure,
which hath two letters for her name fairly set down
in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Baptista:
Who comes with him?

Biondello:
O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned
like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a
kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red
and blue list; an old hat and 'the humour of forty
fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a
very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
footboy or a gentleman's lackey.







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In honor of the complexity of men. One of the most romantic of all poets wrote this:


My Last Duchess
Robert Browning

That's my last duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fr� Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fr� Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Fr� Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
"Over my lady's wrist too much," or "Paint
"Must never hope to reproduce the faint
"Half-flush that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart how shall I say? too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men good! but thanked
Somehow I know not how as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech which I have not to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this
"Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
"Or there exceed the mark" and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and make excuse,
E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

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Wounds spaces, an instant of revival,
Zero, zero.
Point of the Universe, epoch of burning,
Pain, pain.

The worldBuried, ruins of fear
Tishin, silence
Sounds are unknown to people from ashes,
Dream, dream...

Bodies without structure, a planet without a name
Darkness, darkness-
Showers are covered by a layer from hoarfrost
Harms, harms..

This planet only dead zone,
We, we
Showers left in eternal to whom
Ices, ices.

The solar wind carries away particles,
Back, back
Swastika of the world and these murderers
To stick, stick

Black ������ on the Milky Way
Holes, holes
Light carried away to transparent branches...
Whether you? Whether You? Quote

Scurried feet run these tracks,
Electronic calls strap hips and backs,
Half alive in a world half dead,
Freedom passes - brown, blue, and red.

Intertwined like stones and trees,
Did a stranger pack your bags,
Is that all of these?
What happened to your beautiful wings?
Did your love steal those
Along with other things?

Roam your eyes and scribe your notes,
See those tots and what they tote,
Pull those eyes from me in a blink,
Ponder and perish my thoughts you think.

Hand in hand you stand aside,
Watch the wheel and those that ride,
When I leave I will not look back,
But behind you'll see,
What's left of the stack.


~written in an airport~ Quote

it seems performers and members are having fun with the poems Quote

~A Well Lived Life~

I've put the world in my folder,
The future in my pen,
The past in my heart,
The present lies within.

My heart falls in love
Like the changing season,
Often no warning,
Without clue nor reason.

In this time I live,
Mine eyes have seen some sights,
My heart has felt all,
And a pen is my might. Quote

~The Power of One~

Small, the faculties of my life have become-
The wanting, the wishing, the never having done.

The resentment deep-seated within my heart
Has grown in multitude - breaking forth, and apart.

Commanding my life and giving up control,
The power of one - the power of my soul.

Subdued with patience, my mind so eager,
I am now the stronger-
And no more the weaker.



you betta recognize! Quote