#tumblr poetry Tumblr posts

The way my mind works.

I had a poem, but the autocorrect Freudian slipped poem into porn. I guess that’s the true poem, I attempt to keep you organized with rhyme, tempo, alliteration and every English language skill I’ve learned in school. But some how in my mind I end up on my knees face kissing your tummy damn you are alluring, meticulous, yummy. Words stop forming because blood stop flowing to my brain. Images flood my mind. Legs, toes, kissed held sucked. Mind replaying an old late night conversation, body enjoying the adrenaline and stimulation at the thought of your body’s exploration. I pause in a moment of exhalation. Well it just a moment of a real experience in thinking about you.

sudden, disruptive revelation. potentially destructive change.

Poetry Challenge - Day 175 The Tower

Hope against hope

Does that make sense?

Nope, but try telling

A stubborn heart that

It will fight back with

All it has–gotta cope somehow

Must keep from stopping

Even if the finish line

Keeps getting moved

Moving towards it, inching

Itching for a brighter day

Even if there’s no winning

The race; sometimes a pleasant

Surprise awaits–an instance

Of hope justified, giving good

Reason for it to survive

So on second thought

It’s a rather sensible

Way to go

Still being in love

Is a party story now

I wish we were more

I think about you often.

Thoughts of sliding inside of you, feeling and filling you, tasting you. Intimacy, intrigue, mystery, yeah you are physically amazing, alluring, and beautiful, but I’m not talking about sliding between your legs, I’m talking about sliding inside of your mind.

I wrote for no one.

I lose myself.

I lost myself.

turn my sorrows into art.

in this scorched, sun-baked season
we prayed for rain
and when it came
summer heat blazed
as if blooming,
polyester chaffed against
cotton, against skin sticky.
we filled our teacups with humidity
and decided the earth
knew itself better
than we.

-rain prayer, Kelsey Ray Banerjee

I am grateful for my family, my friends and all the privileges I have. That being said I want to bring to everyone’s notice that there are many who don’t have any of those privileges that we all have. I know it’s a miserable time we are living in, it’s even more shattering for them. Even though we cannot help them economically, we can strive to be a little bit humane. A little kindness could mean the world to someone. I try to be kind to my surroundings, the people I live with and all those whom I’ve encountered. There’s a sense of gratitude that I’ve witnessed inside of me and I hope to carry on with it my entire life.

~ Lockdown Day 100 ~

Poetry Challenge - Day 174 Is This How Seagulls Drown?

Golden sunlight, immeasurable redeemer,
You knew me before I was born,
You held my hand as I danced with darkness, 
You forgave me when I stole, lied, and hurt
And loved me tenderly even as I turned my back on home.
You are the light in the window,
The solid rock that my feet walk steadily upon
As you guide me through the wilderness,
Parting dark waters, keeping the wolves at bay,
Toward hope, toward home, toward love.

From the desk
her spine creaks,
each rubbery cartilage
like a phone pole.
each breath realigns
bone and belief  
she types away her thoughts
knuckles thinking faster than
brain cells, and with clacks.
it’s only been four hours,
starting into screen light
she wonders when she’ll see the sun.

-9 to 5, Kelsey Ray Banerjee

Form a government panel at my behest.  Organize the councils.  I demand to know.  Where is the accountability?  //  There is no one to demand I scrape my way back to the cliffs, though bare.  I’ve fallen off rocks into the sea.

I could once write you letters, my pen would regale.  I would sit at an oaken desk, spend some time of my day.  //  And now, my room is in ruin, chair legs broken, curtains torn.  Such a ravaging torrent I have been allowed face.

The waters draw me, though I wonder if to sail or to drown.  Such is my interest in the liminal shore.  //  This accountability I seek today, it takes no distance from my place.  Tomorrow, perhaps, I can ask for more.

Mi cuerpo 

confuso

testarudo

indeciso

.

no entiende

¿qué es lo lindo

de escribir

a un amor ido?.

.

Mi corazón

puede usar palabras

tan lindas 

tan sonoras 

.

Palabras como; 

Colosal

Armonía

Pasional

.

Y el desamor 

es más bien

un delirio nauseabundo

una brisa amarga y fría.

.

¿Por qué escribimos

y describimos

y revivimos

ese sentir que adolece?.

.

¿Por qué dedicamos

versos tan cálidos

a personas

con crudas ausencias?

I’ve always liked rain better than the sun.

Poetry Challenge - Day 173 Ancient Magic

Suddenly, I laze in visions of papaya,
How the flesh of its fruit beckons blissfully;
Who would have known my wildest desire
Would drip from my chin, syrupy?
“She’s too sweet for my taste”, I did say,
But now like the boar, I am gorging, still;
My mind clouded by sensory elation;
Some beast grunts and groans to get his fill,
Enthralled by his triggered instinct
That roars the death of apathetic intellect:
‘Wild as this desire is, I will take all I can get.’

—
1-7-2020, M.A. Tempels ©

Sometimes people are like sunsets, and stars, and sunshine and sunflowers, and they’re the type of people you enjoy while they’re there. That’s fine. That’s what makes them special