Cum Pig

Cum Pig

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

 

On knees

Beg - Please

These (he)s

Sleeze tease

Sex sneeze

Beg Ease

 

Wide end

Good friend

Fuck hole

Man troll

Throat gaggin

Harness snagin

Stick in

Mouth grin

Rough top

Deep romp

Fuck stop

Hard rot

Fuck touch

Dinner lunch

Cum punch

Deep dump

Hard Lump

Large thrust

Gasp must

Moan sweet

Dick treat

Bottom fuck

Thrust tuck

Nailed deep

Fucker creep

Fister sister

Sister mister

Beg and plead

This what you need?

Say, ‘thank you, sir.’

(SLAP)

SAY, “THANK YOU, SIR!”

(Am I wrong to hunger?)

That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

 

 

 

Private High-Hedged Homes

Private High-Hedged Homes

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

 

Sparsely attended periwig towers mirroring lives in private high hedged homes

Untouched by the fettered morning of common mundane men – in light before work

Unaffected by noon’s gaze of blankly staring at clocks to take breaks – boss permitting

Sleep your mid-day resurrection while we, the meek and meager toil unwaveringly

Ruse of Satin, house of glass, no one is tending to your order.

 

Where have the years gone, in this ache my troubles bring

In my moon shadow lit home upon the rocks, and you…so well lit in The Hills

Worlds may collide, but reluctance to see eye to eye, prevents humanity

 And Firmaments of mind create reason to stay, coaxed by dollars worth

Tiara strident siren tortures with vanity and pride, my scepter drops

Senators surrender morals and value for $upport and vote$

Silent, they sway tides of nation and trend, from peace to pleasure

Where enough NEVER ends.

 

 

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -

Untouched by Morning - 

and untouched by noon -

Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection, 

Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone - 

 

Grand go the Years, 

In the Crescent above them -

Worlds scoop their Arcs - 

and Firmaments - row -

Diadems - drop -

And Doges surrender -

Soundless as Dots, 

On a Disk of Snow.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -

Untouched by Morning - 

and untouched by noon -

Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection, 

Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone - 

 

Grand go the Years, 

In the Crescent above them -

Worlds scoop their Arcs - 

and Firmaments - row -

Diadems - drop -

And Doges surrender -

Soundless as Dots, 

On a Disk of Snow.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -

Untouched by Morning - 

and untouched by noon -

Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection, 

Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone - 

 

Grand go the Years, 

In the Crescent above them -

Worlds scoop their Arcs - 

and Firmaments - row -

Diadems - drop -

And Doges surrender -

Soundless as Dots, 

On a Disk of Snow.

 

Tropic of Chocolate

Tropic of Chocolate

 

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Staring at you pull your wrapper Dexterous fingers delicately employed Savor in your sweet bewilderment Making me wet with antici…..pation   Crinkling wrappers same in tone Balanced delicately on lacquered fingertips Each bite releasing a mighty feeling With compulsion, aroma lingers on tongue The bouquet that is this swirl Bitter sweet churn about my mouth   Coaxing my deeper desires to life Drunk with sexual reeling   Ninja whipped wafer crisp paper thin Diamond tip, coco beauty natural sin Shooting stars and ocean tides rise Drags me deeper – go with in! Coconut shavings with a joy of almond Chest heaving inward washed over warm Glow like the smiles of childhood On roads lead back  home My haven summons you near I think about you between tasks and meal Foil wrapped mirroring light Burning hunger no longer right Lightning flash on Morrow Rock Sharpened by stormy desire Crashing tide, breaking shoreline dock leave me, sea foam drooling tide Crinkling wrappers in palm, like Poems written but never seen Yet blissfully remembered in fantasy On the current of next exotic flight.

Coffee

Coffee

 

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

 

Juggernauts unable to move, Leviathan without storm, working neighbor slams door.

Freaks and shadows of freaks in late afternoon sun, calling ‘that’ the morning hour

Tetris without the sea, Infirmaries of modern marvels pouring hope into every glass

There in the bridge of youth, when panties came rushing down for ‘love’s’ true bliss

I remember when tobacco flowed from windows like sardines in their schools, swim

A funk only loved by other smokers there in Newhall, CA - Java’n’Jazz – 1992

 

A.M. refectory behind tiny lines of tapping feet and cake now perched up on a stick

Reflecting the days ensemble and hungry eyes through protective glass, the last refuge

To keep all your dirty mitts off all the God Blessed Food! Chocolate pudding, tree hugger

In Birkenstocks, dream weaver, that last lingering scent of fecundity and patchouli – dreadlock

Rasta, there she is…yoga mat in tow – gluten free skinny ½ calf latte hold the smile, 1 Namaste

Add shot.

 

Demons and Demi-Gods crawl through the bowels of town, reaping and sewing each others

Misdeeds.  Sprawling surface, catching the light, new eyes, this glimmer of hope is kicking in

Into my glass tower I ride, lone bird, starting the soar, flickering, have mercy on my body

For I know exactly what I do. Teetering between optimism and pessimism, my realisms over run

 

Bitter gold, cities of the interior starting to collide, these dog days are over, space cats

And I’m high.  This bridge dehydrates the floating ocean that is me. Nails tap more vigorously

On keys for words command, hear this here like tiny angels clapping, a dance of communication

All of us seems to be involved. Jezebels’ vagina, devil on Christmas, this shit’s wearing off

 

 Gold brick house, one more round – make it a double, and send it through the tundra this time

Day is almost dusk, these limbs are too, battered back and an ass that fell asleep …twice!

A hard day’s night, turns to moon and to light, another repeat, more 'tasks' on the ready

And coffee...is all we need.