Insiderew
rew
rew
Poem Published
19th Oct 2020 9:37pm
19th Oct 2020 9:37pm
Almost my face - revisited.
Relatively, he's very close
this sensuous sinner from me
becomes me, hands inside my clothes,
this impetuous, lustful he.
Hot young limbs grip around my waist
my eyes above, almost my face,
slap him down? can't resist, my lips,
will this lead to complete disgrace?
Heaven knows. hand caresses face, throat
shirt off shoulders, bra strap tweaked,
has he crossed the drawbridge, my moat,
are my defences being breached?
Buttons open, I lay supine
skillful fingers, I am disrobed,
is this a homecoming ,well, fine,...
this sensuous sinner from me
becomes me, hands inside my clothes,
this impetuous, lustful he.
Hot young limbs grip around my waist
my eyes above, almost my face,
slap him down? can't resist, my lips,
will this lead to complete disgrace?
Heaven knows. hand caresses face, throat
shirt off shoulders, bra strap tweaked,
has he crossed the drawbridge, my moat,
are my defences being breached?
Buttons open, I lay supine
skillful fingers, I am disrobed,
is this a homecoming ,well, fine,...
#mother
#erotic
#son
68 reads
4 Comments
randyjohnson
Poem Published
17th Oct 2020 5:47pm
17th Oct 2020 5:47pm
Saint Agnes
Saint Agnes is what my mom should be called.
When she died, I was both saddened and appalled.
I admire women homemakers more than women who work because Mom was a homemaker.
I was devastated on March the 6th of 2013 because my poor mother needed an undertaker.
Mom wasn't actually a saint but she was as close as a person could get.
You would've been very happy and fortunate if you and Mom had met.
She was a wonderful mother and that's something I'm proud to confess.
She was one in a million and she should be called Saint Agnes.
When she died, I was both saddened and appalled.
I admire women homemakers more than women who work because Mom was a homemaker.
I was devastated on March the 6th of 2013 because my poor mother needed an undertaker.
Mom wasn't actually a saint but she was as close as a person could get.
You would've been very happy and fortunate if you and Mom had met.
She was a wonderful mother and that's something I'm proud to confess.
She was one in a million and she should be called Saint Agnes.
#mother
#death
#memorial
#son
#nonfiction
28 reads
1 Comment
Insiderew
rew
rew
Poem Published
11th Oct 2020 4:44pm
11th Oct 2020 4:44pm
thrift
I do so like him to make a fuss
out shopping, boutique, mall or thrift,
it shows who is in charge, between us,
the public's recognition is, swift.
I guess it's age and size, différence,
this explains those, very knowing nods
and he, of course, will make, no pretence,
stroking maman, for us, nothing odd.
He, is my theatrical dresser
and i, his conciliant modél,
a scrap of silk, held, with great flair,
hands, mold fold, feeling eyes, agog.
But nobody seems to mind, too much,
the changing room? he always gets the...
out shopping, boutique, mall or thrift,
it shows who is in charge, between us,
the public's recognition is, swift.
I guess it's age and size, différence,
this explains those, very knowing nods
and he, of course, will make, no pretence,
stroking maman, for us, nothing odd.
He, is my theatrical dresser
and i, his conciliant modél,
a scrap of silk, held, with great flair,
hands, mold fold, feeling eyes, agog.
But nobody seems to mind, too much,
the changing room? he always gets the...
#love
#mother
#son
19 reads
0 Comments
Insiderew
rew
rew
Poem Published
4th Oct 2020 8:34pm
4th Oct 2020 8:34pm
almost my face.
Relatively, he is very close,
and young sinner misses, here within,
do not mind, faced stroked by these hands, those
clean hands, fingers, sensitivitly slim.
Of course, we have been much, much closer,
as his strong knees grip around my waist
closer than twin sister and brother,
up above, my eyes, almost my face.
Questing questioning hands seek answers
my face searched intently by my eyes,
i make no protest, our eyes conversed
the reply, yes to yes, bring soft sighs.
...
and young sinner misses, here within,
do not mind, faced stroked by these hands, those
clean hands, fingers, sensitivitly slim.
Of course, we have been much, much closer,
as his strong knees grip around my waist
closer than twin sister and brother,
up above, my eyes, almost my face.
Questing questioning hands seek answers
my face searched intently by my eyes,
i make no protest, our eyes conversed
the reply, yes to yes, bring soft sighs.
...
#mother
#SelfReflection
#ForbiddenLove #son
#ForbiddenLove #son
81 reads
3 Comments
dkzksaxxas_DanielX
Poem Published
3rd Oct 2020 8:20pm
3rd Oct 2020 8:20pm
Can It Ever Be 1969 Again? aHA !
Here we go
where we're going we're already gone
and went
spent
all the money that poverty would buy well
into me seventhDecade always on the retreat
missed so much NY/Bklyn/EasternLongIsland/upstateNY
trips had to offer by way of extended "experience"
in things I was too shy/timid to indulge aspiration(s)
of being a Cali Lit teacher at Berkley so soon became
a joke settled down too early stayed settled down
for four decades of a joke in bland kanzass safety
(but , hell, i'd've missed creating beloved Eric (b.1979) ...
where we're going we're already gone
and went
spent
all the money that poverty would buy well
into me seventhDecade always on the retreat
missed so much NY/Bklyn/EasternLongIsland/upstateNY
trips had to offer by way of extended "experience"
in things I was too shy/timid to indulge aspiration(s)
of being a Cali Lit teacher at Berkley so soon became
a joke settled down too early stayed settled down
for four decades of a joke in bland kanzass safety
(but , hell, i'd've missed creating beloved Eric (b.1979) ...
#regret
#confessional
#daughter
#son
#fatherhood
31 reads
4 Comments
Ely
E.A.Rothwell
E.A.Rothwell
Poem Published
26th Sep 2020 00:43am
26th Sep 2020 00:43am
The child chooses..
Sure...the child gets to choose…
but you choose his choices...
That's the way we do it...so...
Late one Saturday morning
a lady stopped by my studio...with her little boy…
She said to her four year old son…
Hey Johnny, wanna have your portrait done?
I cringed...cause I knew what was coming.
Well...as you might expect... Johnny said…"No!"...
Having exhausted her quiver with that one arrow… the lady was lost.for words.
So...I quickly signaled her over ...that...
we might have a chat…
...
but you choose his choices...
That's the way we do it...so...
Late one Saturday morning
a lady stopped by my studio...with her little boy…
She said to her four year old son…
Hey Johnny, wanna have your portrait done?
I cringed...cause I knew what was coming.
Well...as you might expect... Johnny said…"No!"...
Having exhausted her quiver with that one arrow… the lady was lost.for words.
So...I quickly signaled her over ...that...
we might have a chat…
...
#mother
#conflict
#art #son
#art #son
40 reads
4 Comments
Vferry
Poem Published
15th Sep 2020 5:44am
15th Sep 2020 5:44am
Tellin' Season
The breeze was dropping secrets
with every falling leaf
Until the trees stood naked
There’s no tellin’ the words he’ll speak
Why the hell he have to wait so long
To kick up dust at the end of day
I always knew the storm was coming
But why did it have to come today
Here comes the Tellin' Season
Bout to find out the rhyme and reason
For all the things he did and didn’t do
Inside the Telling season
The weather of his words- gets you believing
That he did it all for you
That ain’t true
But he gets it off his chest...
with every falling leaf
Until the trees stood naked
There’s no tellin’ the words he’ll speak
Why the hell he have to wait so long
To kick up dust at the end of day
I always knew the storm was coming
But why did it have to come today
Here comes the Tellin' Season
Bout to find out the rhyme and reason
For all the things he did and didn’t do
Inside the Telling season
The weather of his words- gets you believing
That he did it all for you
That ain’t true
But he gets it off his chest...
#father
#family
#death #son
#death #son
51 reads
0 Comments
ThusSpokeHaven
Poem Published
22nd Aug 2020 10:41pm
22nd Aug 2020 10:41pm
I still pray for you, son.
The wise man of the sea, that’s what they call me.
I’ve caught wisdom from days alone with my thoughts.
Son, If I could teach you just one lesson of solace from personal experience,
I’d tell you that the best way to face a wave is head-on.
I’d tell you to hop back on the horse and chase the woman you love.
I’d tell you to respect your mother and your name.
I’d tell you to thank God and your ancestors for your blessings.
I’d tell you how short time is and to appreciate all the little moments.
If only I spent more time in the present when you and your...
I’ve caught wisdom from days alone with my thoughts.
Son, If I could teach you just one lesson of solace from personal experience,
I’d tell you that the best way to face a wave is head-on.
I’d tell you to hop back on the horse and chase the woman you love.
I’d tell you to respect your mother and your name.
I’d tell you to thank God and your ancestors for your blessings.
I’d tell you how short time is and to appreciate all the little moments.
If only I spent more time in the present when you and your...
#love
#regret
#father
#suicide
#son
146 reads
3 Comments
Monstrositat
Poem Published
13th Aug 2020 2:40pm
13th Aug 2020 2:40pm
The First Time My Father Ever Beat Me
My father was screaming in frustration and rage; I in despair and pain. His hands were numb from the intense and physically demanding actions while my butt was numb, finally free of the pain it endured in my situation. He slapped and slapped and punched and threw things at me, heavy things that hurt. There was nothing I could do. No way to fight back was present, only ways to possibly ease the pain. Finally, with one last, he kicked me and struck a decisive blow!!! My character went sailing off-screen and the announcer declared “GAME!” My father had beaten me in Smash Bros for the first time...
#dark
#father
#abuse
#funny
#son
68 reads
1 Comment
randyjohnson
Poem Published
2nd Aug 2020 5:41pm
2nd Aug 2020 5:41pm
Happy Birthday, Mom - Part VIII
When you died, I was devastated and didn't know what to do.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-two.
The love that I felt for you was special and it knew no bounds.
My heart was broken when you were lowered in the ground.
If you could hear the words I'm saying, I'd want you to hear me say "I love you".
When you died, My days were filled with unhappiness because I was so blue.
I grew inside of your womb until I was born in August of 1971.
You were spectacular and it was a privilege to be your son.
I suffered when you died and it's...
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-two.
The love that I felt for you was special and it knew no bounds.
My heart was broken when you were lowered in the ground.
If you could hear the words I'm saying, I'd want you to hear me say "I love you".
When you died, My days were filled with unhappiness because I was so blue.
I grew inside of your womb until I was born in August of 1971.
You were spectacular and it was a privilege to be your son.
I suffered when you died and it's...
#mother
#death
#birthday #son
#birthday #son
57 reads
0 Comments
Pimp2ThaFuture04
Poem Published
19th Jul 2020 4:15pm
19th Jul 2020 4:15pm
Son-Day-School
I got some knowledge
of my own I would like
to share with the youth
Some of the values
that you were being
taught is not the truth
What you got to prove?
A little influence and
a little power to show
that you have the juice
Y'all taking up time
fighting against each other
When you should be fighting
For your Sister and Mother
Genetically modified seeds
Is what this generation breeds
Real love and real education
about real history is what the
youth needs
When you speak of...
of my own I would like
to share with the youth
Some of the values
that you were being
taught is not the truth
What you got to prove?
A little influence and
a little power to show
that you have the juice
Y'all taking up time
fighting against each other
When you should be fighting
For your Sister and Mother
Genetically modified seeds
Is what this generation breeds
Real love and real education
about real history is what the
youth needs
When you speak of...
#teens
#school
#philosophical #son
#philosophical #son
149 reads
10 Comments
PittinixDesigns
Poem Published
1st Jul 2020 1:58pm
1st Jul 2020 1:58pm
Eyes Of Possibility
Do you see me as I see you?
Just look at me seriously for a while
Picture me as your husband
Can you see us starting a family?
It is a prospect, not an illusion
Think how wonderful it will be
I am standing here looking at you
I see life with eyes of possibility
My son is growing inside you
You are a respectful and caring mom
I am a loving and helpful dad
And here is our blushing little girl
Open your mind’s eye and imagine
We can turn fantasies into reality
You love me and I love you
Of course we make a...
Just look at me seriously for a while
Picture me as your husband
Can you see us starting a family?
It is a prospect, not an illusion
Think how wonderful it will be
I am standing here looking at you
I see life with eyes of possibility
My son is growing inside you
You are a respectful and caring mom
I am a loving and helpful dad
And here is our blushing little girl
Open your mind’s eye and imagine
We can turn fantasies into reality
You love me and I love you
Of course we make a...
#love
#mother
#father
#dreams
#son
104 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Son Poems
