Senses #4

The taste of your lipstick as our lips meet and tongues flick.
The taste of your hand, as I kiss it like sand.
The taste of salt as I kiss away the tears.

The taste of food laying on a table, providing you are able.
The taste of beer on a hot summer day, relaxing and fooling in the hay.
The taste of summer as fresh as fruit salad.

Let me taste the spring water running through the hills.
Let me taste fresh bread, made from the flour ground in the mills.
Let me taste the seasons and long charming days.

Agents of Darkness

The agents of darkness strike again inflicting misery death and pain. Plots to kill injure and maim all don in a dark Lords name. The dark Lords weave their evil across their Web, recruiting its agents brainwash their heads.

Lords of darkness agents of death, wreaking havoc on the enlightened, running Scared and Frightened as the Chase To find The Dark Agents tightens, dark agents’ operations heighten. Lords of darkness creating a mess, from an unknown address, you send your agents to do your Dirty deeds up and down the country where ever they need.

Cowards in the extreme, make women and children scream how can they be so mean. Dark agents hoping they will never be seen, to die they are so keen, to be free they don’t know what it means, carnage and mayhem at the scene, under what stone have you been. Oh, agents of darkness who are in such a mess they cause such distress, now we have to clean up this mess.

Don’t snuff out the light, keep up the fight, the agents of darkness know their plight. Hunt them down, take their malice and spite. For we will not bow or give up the fight to live in a country the way we know is right. Lords of darkness you will get bored, why don’t you weald your own sword and stop preaching a fraud? |To defeat the agents of darkness light must come to shine on us all night

Words

Words tell a million stories, some believable and some absurd, scaring you to the core with just one well-placed word. Words can define you or undermine you, be true or false. Words can kill you and hurt you inside as they punish you and deride, kicking you in the side, beating over you like a tide giving you nowhere to hide.

Words can sooth and bath you in glory, make you lose yourself in a good story. Words can tell you, you are loved, fitting like your favorite glove, keeping you warm and happy, only nice things do you see. Words cause wars, ripping apart worlds by scores, words that are full of hate, designed to berate. Words of religion tell of what went before but lay others of god raw, say no more.

Words are funny making you laugh, like a hyena or even a giraffe, they make you laugh out loud, or chuckle back in side, where your happiness and humour safely reside. Words can rhyme although if they don’t it’s not a crime, words can make something chime. Words can give introductions but can also cause destruction and abduction. Words can describe pungent scents and flowers, words can make you hungry and your mouth savor.

Use words wisely and for good as you know you really should. Don’t be miserly, write plenty, let your pen work until your mind is empty.

Playground

Black safety surfaces highlight the bright colours of the playground with children all around, they climb and run and jump, on metal frames and trains. they imagine they are climbing a mountain to rescue fair maids and gallop away.

Driving a train passenger laden picking up knights and maidens. A large swing hangs like a disc, carries several children on the journey they wish. Slides and roundabouts all to wear the kids out. then comes the ice cream, it cools them down in the mid-day heat, a real treat, strawberry sauce real sweet. Back to their play and imagination all day, dancing and singing and rocking in the sun’s rays. Play in a group or just on their own, there is plenty to do until it’s time to go home.

 

Magic Weaver

Lost in your shadow, your billowing love, free as a bird, not pure as a dove. Come find me tonight, in the dim candle light, open your mind and dictate my plight. Make me tingle and writhe in pleasure, let me feel your warmth and caress in good measure. Run your fingers through my hair, down my body and anywhere you dare. Let passion flare, you won’t scare.

Tempt me with your fruit, make my passage to it an easy route. Caress my body with your lips, work your magic with your hips, make me scream in your magic dreams. Love me until I am coming apart at the seams, until I can take no more, but pleasure screams. When you think my body has had enough, come find me again a little rough.

Send me to heaven, open the gate, don’t make me anticipate. Lay with me in the afterglow, my body twitching, sending a signal of contentment so you know, you have been responsible for setting me alight and making me feel high as a kite. I want to weave magic with you every night.

 

 

Tight Space

Tied and bound in a small room tall enough to stand but not enough to turn, escape I yearn, ropes start to burn as I wriggle and twist and turn, in discern. Dark place, no space, just me and the fear of closed in space, darkness in front of my face sets my brain running a pace.  Panic sets in as I wriggle and squirm to try to get free from this room so wee. Exhaustion follows as super human effort does not succeed and my wrists start to bleed, my mind starts to plead. 

Then there is a bang a chink of light cutting the dark of night. In through the top comes a piece of meat, raw and not fit to eat. I scream, the lid slams shut, trapped in a box like a mutt. I smell the meat it’s raw, gathering dust on the floor, I start to heave with every breath I draw, desperately wanting to find a door. 

I decide not to eat, my body starts to ask for a treat, water needed but none about, I dream of a beer if I get out. My body is weak my thirst is bleak, I may not even last a week. I may be caged in body but am free in mind able to think and go into my mind. I think of nice things of better days, reciting lines from films and plays. I loose track of all the days, just sitting there staring a gaze. Flies start to swarm like gnats before the storm. Putrid food rotting on the floor, smell a fowl stench of rotting flesh and decay. I lean on the wall waiting for what’s at the end of it all, given up hope of getting away, in this box I must spend my last days. Hallucinations come and go in the dark, madness tearing me apart. My body week and breaking down thirst and dehydration come around. I close my eyes and wait for coma to descend and my body to meet this tragic end. 

​Pinball Day

I feel like a pin ball, bounced into an arena where there are obstacles to trip and bounce you around, pounded from pillar to post not really knowing the host. Flashing lights make it seem so bright, but, when you bounce back its far from right. For a minute you are winning and all your points start to add up, then you realise you are sold a pup, your are catapulted back up the board to where you started. 
Progress is slow, why don’t they know, when you get to the end the barriers won’t let you go cos they only throw and give you a new way to go. Then in a hole, trying to get out and even then you get ejected with naught. 

Then hit the wall and hope you fall in the right place, it’s a disgrace, concentration on their face you are just part of the rat race, never able to play an ace. Points racking up stroke of luck gets you out of the muck, then straight down the middle into a hole to be catapulted straight back out, with a clout, you want to shout, to do it all over again. It’s always the same totally insane.