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I am Individuality Not bound by anybody Without restraints Free
Virginia Beach, VA
Poems
Brent Kincaid Oct 2015
ROXIE MOXIE
Brent Kincaid
Oct 2015
No matter just how many times I told her
She couldn’t seem to keep it in her head;
While everyone enjoys the circus,
I do not enjoy it in my bed.
I made it clear at the beginning
That I was a quiet kind of guy
Still she insisted on the drama
And I never found out why.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
Was she raised in a hippie commune or
Maybe some kind of traveling show?
Though I asked her many times
I will probably never know.
There had to be drinks and some food
By the bedside when we retired.
Though I begged not to drink coffee
It seemed she was always wired.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
She wanted to stay up late each evening
And then she’d sleep in way past noon.
Of course I was gone to work by then
So, we’d meet at the rise of the moon.
At first it was very exciting for me
To have this rigorous loving game.
So, I guess I brought it on myself
And I am the only one to blame.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
She couldn’t seem to keep it in her head;
While everyone enjoys the circus,
I do not enjoy it in my bed.
I made it clear at the beginning
That I was a quiet kind of guy
Still she insisted on the drama
And I never found out why.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
Was she raised in a hippie commune or
Maybe some kind of traveling show?
Though I asked her many times
I will probably never know.
There had to be drinks and some food
By the bedside when we retired.
Though I begged not to drink coffee
It seemed she was always wired.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
She wanted to stay up late each evening
And then she’d sleep in way past noon.
Of course I was gone to work by then
So, we’d meet at the rise of the moon.
At first it was very exciting for me
To have this rigorous loving game.
So, I guess I brought it on myself
And I am the only one to blame.
Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.
Toreinss Pinwinkel III May 2018
Incubus
Toreinss Pinwinkel III
May 2018
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
I of we all create our own incubi and succubi and we should pay attention to their parameters. Nothing like a philanthropic Incubus.
MJL
Mar 2019
Rows of starched green and yellow paisley feather stalks
Marching in ordered lines along the road to 57 Eldon Way
Hot dogs and char burgers charge the air with yesterday's homecoming
Buds of moxie memories tipping long ears to big blue
Listening to the chickadees vocal pecking at kernels from the past
Morsels fall to the dirt signal life again for those willing to root
Pulled magpies to lines spy intimate joy-scattered seed below
Promising fortunes creased by hourglasses settled sand
White washed porches with rose printed borders
Nestle a "his and her" swing vantage over familiar fields
Imagined better-time scenes from selfie soaked movies
More real than all the forgotten stones ever stepped upon
Sweet tea sugar fills tall glasses of yarn spun dreams
Glory red and navy rippling a windy beat
To the clang of their steal pole clasp
Dance
Swing with them and recall a time of slower horizons
Of richer baskets
Of brighter springs
Of longer summers
Take a dip in the swimming hole
Naked, together, and happy
© 2019 MJL
Marching in ordered lines along the road to 57 Eldon Way
Hot dogs and char burgers charge the air with yesterday's homecoming
Buds of moxie memories tipping long ears to big blue
Listening to the chickadees vocal pecking at kernels from the past
Morsels fall to the dirt signal life again for those willing to root
Pulled magpies to lines spy intimate joy-scattered seed below
Promising fortunes creased by hourglasses settled sand
White washed porches with rose printed borders
Nestle a "his and her" swing vantage over familiar fields
Imagined better-time scenes from selfie soaked movies
More real than all the forgotten stones ever stepped upon
Sweet tea sugar fills tall glasses of yarn spun dreams
Glory red and navy rippling a windy beat
To the clang of their steal pole clasp
Dance
Swing with them and recall a time of slower horizons
Of richer baskets
Of brighter springs
Of longer summers
Take a dip in the swimming hole
Naked, together, and happy
© 2019 MJL
Eldon is the Iowa town brought to life in Grant Wood's American Gothic painting. 57 is my favorite ketchup and everything best about being human... The poem reflects a memory of returning to a simpler time with improved perspective, remembering what we want. Magpies symbolize good luck, optimism and also deception.