Quotes about massage, page 6
ALL NITE CREEPIN'...by talile ali
EIGHT CANS LATER
IT'S BEEN DONE
CAN'T FEEL NUTHIN'
GONNA HAVE SOME FUN
SPOUSE IS SLEEPIN
IN THE MASSAGE CHAIR
ALL NITE CREEPIN
FOR A QUICKY TO SHARE
ALL NITE CREEPIN'
NOT HAVIN AN AFFAIR
HAD NO LOVIN
BEEN SO LONG
NO MORE TALKIN
SOMETHING GONE WRONG
BEEN HERE WAILIN'
NOW IT'S VERY CLEAR
ALL NITE CREEPIN'
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poem by Talile Ali
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Old day charms
aunty's watch was worth more
than a thousand battery driven watches
it afforded us the golden moment
to snuggle up into her warm arms
to help her wind her time, to hear her
tell us the story of the day
going to sleep even then
was a more affectionate
affair that sticks to the heart
to this very day
babies now sleep
in a piece of cloth
worked up and down by a machine
we slept in one swung by
the pure love of mummy
and to the precise rhythm
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Mating Mind
So evolution has made the human brain a phallus
A frontal protuberance that is rather callous.
It’s Darwinian lust that turns out these rhymes
For a chance to copulate and have some good times.
To quote a sonnet here and sing a song there,
And to paint a panorama for a procreating pair.
Lines of iambic pentameter are but a farce,
Have no more meaning than a baboon’s red arse.
It’s all in the genes and it’s all in the brain
And love is the demon that drives artists insane.
A picture of a pert breast and a moist massage
The passionate pant from a lingual lavage.
It doesn’t take much to get this member erect
It has bugger all to do with intellect!
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poem by Roy Lee
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Stature Arrested Development Manifested Greatness
I can be all that you want and more
Your heart, body, and soul for me to explore
I’ll give you more than you need galore
Just open your heart and close the bedroom door
Let me discover landscapes if you don’t mind
Sight you surely can give to me the blind
Given to you a therapeutic massage
Sensuality I’ll give in barrage
Intimacy I’ll never ever sabotage
My world and yours blend as a collage
Figures entwined as a montage
Placed upon your breast my corsage
Let me take you places unbridled and unbound
Let me teach you secrets so profound
Cradled in my arms tranquil bliss
Emotions felt now sealed by a kiss
Passionate thoughts now you’re aware
Delight mi armoire for us to share
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Indian Is The Client's Race
1
I have a client (in massage)
Pana (indian) is his race
Studied ''daw'' in London
and talk with shaking face
His armpit like a camel
smell ''no washing'' feet
smell no washing feet
smell no washing feet
11
We have a client
Pana is their race
Having business now in Dubai
despite dirhamscrisis
they're going to establish
Like Philippine 5 - 6
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poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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Without You
It has been
six days
since I have seen her.
In all that time
she left me
totally totally alone.
Not a word
not a call
not a touch
not a sight of her.
How does she go
and leave me so
easily like this?
How is it that she
does not need to see
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Massaged boy
So of course he was addicted,
If massage was a lesson in school,
He would’ve picked it.
All his pocket money went to the local masseuse.
His mother was angry
She threw a fit like Zeus
Then she tried it and became the same.
It was her sons fault
In her eyes he was to blame.
He tried to run but she went berzerk,
She shouted “I’M NOT DOING ANY HOUSE WORK! ”
There was no food on the table and no clean clothes.
Her husband said “this marriage is full of burnt oaths.”
She went mad and her husband left her,
She saw only red
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poem by Phillip Whiteman
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Loosen Your Leash
If I wanted to appease you,
And massage your ego.
Would you pat me on the back,
For that?
To then loosen your leash.
Allowing me to run freely...
Wherever I choose.
Confident I will return.
With the knowledge,
You have trained me well?
And I show signs I am mesmerized.
Totally captivated and under your spell.
Or will you demand my loyalty,
Until I've passed all tests?
In steps to learn...
What it is you deliver,
No other can treat my needs...
To better what you give.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Peck Upon The Hands Of God
what i see
every morning
on the same
time of
this
wrecking hour
is what pushes
me
to do
all these
writings on
the wall
i pity myself
but what can i do?
it creates all
the drum sounds in
my heart
and i am dancing wildly
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorrow Rebirth Thinks Of Beauty
a huge knowledge of sorrow
must always think of beauty
memories running over themselves
are fires burning tortured souls
rebirth is born in rhythm ocean waves
wavelets are tender finger ripples
stroking skin of land shorelines
strong fingers massage knotted rocks
rubbing down into sand heartaches
baked on long hot wave eroded days
summarize ebb flow coastal beaches
beauty haunts all tidal manifestations
wind wave bird song sing salt choruses
each sunrise sunset paint shades of skies
beauty awaits in promise discoveries
washed up upon shore is storm sorrow
but in waste wake awaits hope tomorrow
tides clean sweep sand tide moon margins
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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