with words
that nought do but,
oh they conceit themselves
a thought worth thinking, is
it not?
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with words
that nought do but,
oh they conceit themselves
a thought worth thinking, is
it not?
it not?
or is it so?
did Juliet proclaim
her love, shameless and forlorn, borne
hopeless?
hopeless
a lumpy sack
thrown into the corner
not to be opened, fear of what's
inside
inside
it is all fire
outside a sheath of snow
you may call me a volcano
of love
of love
I have nothing
no momory, segue,
souvenir, no promise, no joke.
Doves take.
Doves take.
White feathered homes
for pieces of peaces.
What a world can't accommodate,
doves can.
doves can
and oh, they will
bring you the bough of peace
you may touch but do not hold too
firmly
firmly
observe the creed
of the heavenly dove
carrying in its beak of love,
peace
Okay, my dear friend Maz, do you want it to be 'the' peace or what? I don't want to put words in your....fingers. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by mazHur
dear Amp. ,,,,, please do ! I like your imagination !
Quote:
Originally Posted by mazHur
haha...then I will end it with...this peace
this peace
is to strive for
I know you are wanting
making peace after a quarrel
is good
that's nice ,,thanks.
is good
not a divine
emotion to possess?
Are we not made in the image
of God?
We met.
Then we married.
Two kids each, from before,
turned out, the hysterectomy
was good.
:lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Captain Pike
was good.
could be better.
but then, love never gives
a moment's leave to be content,
to give...
to give...
love without hope
of touching, of feeling
the skin's warmth, this may be pure love...
only love
only love
has its remote
abode at silent smiles,
smiling eyes: i say remote, but
is it?
is it
the behooval
of sheer arousal that
gathers the horizon in my night
vision?
vision
I have had one
and somehow it was you
my eyelids closed, emblazoned there
to touch
to touch,
even dreaming
is to touch nonetheless...
beautiful as the morning dew
on roses
On roses
Sweet dew drops form
Keeping the flower moist
While the sneaky thorns prepare to
Stick you
stick you
with all the work
hoping all this labor
of loving me will make you a
rich man
rich man
standing in rain,
wide umbrella, fine cane,
run to where you know the sun ran,
palms end
palms end
tells her fortune
his finger tracing lines
alert now, she remembers them
yearning
yearning,
he so softly
woke you, a string of pearls
across your heart, made from mere sand,
so smooth
So smooth
The sound of jazz
Pouring from his gold sax
I listen with utmost rapture
All day
All day
I waited for
you under the blazing
sun but you did not turn up till
stars fell !
stars fell
Alabama
they got in my eyes too
but the moon will not break my heart
you will
you will
keep complaining,
I know I know, but wait
I will listen to you but first
kiss me!
kiss me!
with words of fire
bubbling deep but rising
my surface supple and waiting
spew forth
Spew forth
The volcano
Molten lava and ash
With its extreme power and might
Explode
Explode
don't hold it in
share your fallout of love
let the dust coat the unhappy
shelter
shelter,
one moonlit trail,
out of sight pf stalking
madness shadowing wayfarers
downwind
downwind
I smell the smoke
your fire is burning wild
but it is not for me to see
it waits
it waits
for its tangents
to work at paramount
cross-purposes for the purpose
of fate
of fate
little is known
it's purely a divine
subject not understood by men
or science.
or science
is the science of
unknown alternatives
even alternatives to the
unknown
unknown
no longer, the
target of that famous
fifty-year mark, still complaisant
laggard
laggard,
cried the foreman
writhing in a spasm
of authoritarian rage,
spitting
spitting
out his anger
he talked and talked and talked
until he ran out of all his
sputum