Whitmanesque #1 - by Eagle Bear

I want your tongue

to trace the road map

buried in the folds of my body

inhalingmyscent like a drug

I want you to loafe there

and leave your inward stroke

your eyes kept on mine

as your big hand wraps around

slides up to the top, cradles

my head and returns to its root

my hands shall lead your head

where I choose. I shall show you

what the thought of you brings up

from the sub-oceanic mountain

lusts that make ripcurrents move

I want you to grab hold

go as far into me as you want

and watch me suffer while you

make...me...wait.

I shall take this energy

and flood my body with your eyes

still looking up, you shall hold me off

every last moment possible

when I am right at the jump

make me come like a bee

your face will be soaked

by the blast of our orbit

I shall visit Eternity

walk away in a daze

memory of miniature oceans

looking back at me gratefully

we are designed as two lines

that lead to the tip

of the arrow point of time

what you pour out will immerse me

sail me across the sky

shoot me over the moon

burn me into the sun

arrow me through the clouds

bury me down under plant roots

dribble me down into this volcano

as big steam plumes mushroom

up the sky to hide your face

away from clashing armies at night

away from starving hysterical naked

away from four skinny trees planted by the city

away from the everyday things that kill slowly. We

are a chorus of black bells ringing

are the strength of four skinny trees

are the wisdom of Esperanza's hips, her name

are the adventure of pork katsu delivered in a rainstorm

the look of eager to please

sparkles in your lips as they quiver

as they plead with their captor

for one solid wall of love to crash down

crash into, bring down all, all on top of the world

Beautiful

deluded said:

Beautiful

Thank you.

Intense and powerful.

Slave2daGroove said:

Intense and powerful.

Yep. I was definitely feeling some type of way when I wrote it. If you saw the whole version...I was on a write like Whitman kick after doing a creative project for an English lit class--only project I got a perfect score on in the class outside of a textual analysis.