And even with hysteric tendencies
The The plight surrounding Italy
Is similar in estimates
And more than just a kin you see
While missing consonant
Both welcomes to the site and scene
It's both a pleasure and a challenge
To continue with this thing...

While deciding to devote this specific contribution
To the art of dedication
And the craft of reproducing
Or rather the reproduction
When debating the construction
Of a lyrical seduction
Relying on the minds deduction
Well deducing Mr. Watson
Watching singles play there prose
Positioning themselves to mingle
To and from is how it goes
So instead of strictly drafting
The challenge here is more in crafting
For while the intro may have happened
Continuation leads to tacking
On a couple lines in hurry
To make the owner of this story
More than the one that called a start
Yet rather all who those who took a part...

(My experiment is to challenge a continuation reply to all those who take the time to read this piece, run with it, and have fun...)

Embrace...Part.1

Five...
Five senses...
Five hours...
Five days...
Five...

WIth my five senses I enjoy the embrace
Seeming more or less a figment
Than a chance or a taste
A token of appreciation
Or a chance to discuss
Calling on the non-verbal sensuality...
Lust...

Not quite...

The touch-
Removed from a lust-like state
The woven fabric tracing frames
Leaves no room for mistake...
And yet the room is closing in
Take proximity too
So with the nearing of the distance
Brings the cravings anew

The touch-
As fingers run freely through the river of hair
Flowing...brilliantly, majestic, strong, yet balanced with care
Trickling down the spine, briefly pausing at posts
The neck holding up the mind and attentions to boast
Plant a peck on the host, while she daunts with a toast
The touch-passionate, the fire burning brighter than most

This touch-
More reminiscent to a hit for a fiend
Leaves you staring while alone waiting for anything...
A quick fix, another go, another round with the queen
Withdrawals are the demons-when away it would seem

But when encountering eventuals
The present turns incredible
Presenting once deniables
Creating the reliable
The antidote so viable
The needs for one's survival
And a shot at true revival
Rests within the moments idle

Idol-izing...
Fantasizing...
Fantastic-
The latter sounds appropriate.

Fantasizing-
One glance into the eyes calls two tales...
A dark past...
A bright future...
Nicknamed Future,
For the Prophet foretells
A longing for one another
Deep within where it dwells
A queen in every right,
Yet Princess by the sake of the name
A king in search for something real,
Someone removed from the games

I find myself lost...
Why...even that sentence is a paradox
How can something found be lost?
Like a burn thats caused by frost
Man, forget the rhyming for a second...
Thank you.

Look I need to come out and speak my mind...
But the thoughts...
These thoughts are sacred...
These feelings guarded...
This stylo...this style...

I've travelled this road before
Seen the pathway
The trees
The back alleys
I've seen the flowing meadows
**** I've even seen the slums

But that was then...
Days, weeks, months, years ago
Time has no binding force here.
The only sense of being rests in sensory domains

Touch
As I caress the curvatures of your frame
The flesh of your hips
I start to crave for more than just a touch
I mean...who wants to stay at arms length?

Who would really want to? Who could hold back the urge...

Sight
My eyes undress you seconds at a time
Recreating scenes for my minds eye to play back at later occasions
Piercing the pleasures that replay in this place...that place...
Like zane, at 1:12 we can do it anywhere
And with the sight that I see
Blessing me...

Here, there, far, near, I wouldn't care...

Scent
From afar the shear sense drew me in
Caramel, cocoa butter, and cinnamon
Japanese Blossom fills the space so close
Inviting, the essence that I'm feeling the most

Got me rhyming again...

Sound
Like the sweetest song
A dove's tale with a swans harmony
No need for back ups
Your solo take is more than enough to impress
Sacred siren secretly savoring success...

Shhhhh...
She's coming...

Taste
By far the most tempestuous of temptations
Teasing the tongue with tasty travesties
These treats more treacherous than testing
Twisting Twilight's treasures...

Tell me this...
Can census truly define consensus
Can sense truly capture the scents
This loose change jingling, empty cents
Or maybe with all feats featured since...
No, I'll leave the pleasures pence
Or duplicate...a penny spent
With due return, this manner lent
Itself in wholesome banishment

Exile from ineptitude
The richness of the fifths
Bereft of simple fancies
Sight, Scent, eager whiffs
Taste, Touch, not enough
Sounding almost as surreal
Yet obtaining all at once...
While in your company a steal...

(To be continued...)

enjoyable to say least. very nice.

good read, good write.

Pen Strokes

Moonlight lifts the veil
Creeping past the shades and hue
Silhouette cast on my canvas
Awaiting Attention
Craving Connection
Observing this expressive culmination of culture
One sees no flaw...
Free of blemish, imperfection, impurity...
As if sculpted by the hands of divinity
This mosaic is counterpoint to the trinity
Harmonious in cadence and chemistry
Physically...A manifestation of melody...
Yet still awaiting finality.

The canvas calls...
"Finish me...Finish me..."

So I plunge into the depths of my work
Stroke after Stroke
Foregoing the need to surface
There is no gasping
No emerging for air
Quite contraire...
Instead the trepidation withers
Anxieties vanquished
As shudders turn to shivers
And shivers gain in pace
Forming quakes...my pen creates...
And recreates---

Inaudible symphonies
Conducted in two-four, three-four
More...More time...
Utilizing that universal signature
Stroke after Stroke
The inner Euphantus is summoned
Drawing upon recollection of ancestry
These pen strokes traced the curvatures of history
Her story was found within the bounds of this passage as well
Defined and noted as the premise supreme
Devoting depictions to this amorous Odyssey
While invoking wooden horses of fabled lore
I too chose to strike in the night...
Stroke after Stroke
Until the walls of great Troy were sieged
Allowing my Helen to experience sweet release...

Finally...Finality...