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    Evening Rest

    Your long-awaited evening rest,once beckoned by your bedroom light,has called you in.  Sandcastle's crest,sworn to defend, must bid goodnight. Day seeks its end.  At dawn's first sight,your long-awaited evening restrestored your flight.  Your passion soaredbeyond the nest where you'd recite  your...

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    • Powerfully penned, DK. This one pulls at the heartstrings my friend. Phenomenal write, thanks for sharing. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • You amaze me every time you put pen to paper…

      • What is paper, Sam?
        You amaze me every time you put your lips… well, we will talk about that later

    • You’re an impressive writer. Thank you for sharing.

    • Bad Uncle is impressed ….

      BIG LIKE

    • Beautifully worded. Magically intriguing. You present this topic with patience & understanding. A gentle, moving piece. Nice work DK.

    • Very nice and, very likely, my favorite form.

    • Your imagery cushions the blow of loss with love. 🌼

    • Me too. Thanks for reading, Mary!

    • It’s a formal poetry style called a Quatern. Eight syllables per line, four stanzas.
      Thanks for checking this out, SeaCat!

    • Beautiful and peaceful. I often wonder as everyone does, what is next. I think it’s not for us to know so we get to choose to believe whatever. I choose to believe I’ll be reunited with everyone I lost and miss. And if I’m wrong well not like I’ll know.

      Great ink

      • Even if it is what we believe, it probably won’t be the way that we think.
        Thanks so much for reading this, Nick. I love your comments!

        xoxo

    • If nothing else, DK🍷

      I’m helplessly obliged to bow, Dear Poetess, in sheer respect and awe at how accomplished your poetic acumen has been developed … and, this brilliantly rendered French Quatern rendering proves how genuinely undeniable it truly is.
      Your amazingly diverse skills are brought vibrantly to light via the many varied themes you bring to the page in widely abundant mastery of poetic forms, command of diction, flowing syntax, metaphoric imagery, emotive instinct, spot-on enjambments and rhymes, and so much more … all brought forth through the rich poetic voice of that of a poetesses’ poetess.

      “You know me not, though knew me well.
      I cannot reach you through the white
      of Heaven’s clouds … as they ingest
      your long-awaited evening rest.”

      How more perfectly validated could loss of memory be expressed(?) … I really do not know.
      And, your Artwork choice? Exemplary!

      Well, lest I wear thinner my exuberant welcome, let me close with a simple humble, “Sigh!”
      Most reverently, Dear Lady-Poet! ⁓ Richard 🙏

      • I’m going to shove my tongue down your throat, Richard. I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I want to French Quatern you to death. I promise not to make you suffer, though. I’ll do things to take your mind off suffocating. Give me your little white cloud of Heaven.

        xoxo

    • Suffering? What suffering?
      Seems my “mind” you’ve already distracted … and, if I happen to suffocate, what a way to go … LOL!

    • Hey ITR! Damn, I’m glad you’re back. When I was reading your stuff, I noted you hadn’t signed on in a month. At least, that’s what it looked like. I’m glad you didn’t miss your gold medal. I love your prose.

      So, thanks for the review and critique. I need to go back and adjust the spacing properly. I’m not sure what happened there. This kind of poem should have stanzas (quatrains). Anyway, I’m so glad you like it. I love the Blue Ridge Mtns btw. How lovely it must be to live there. I’m from N.C. and visited The Biltmore many times – not so far away.

    • Now I can see why its a winner!
      I feel sad for not reading this one before. A heart touching write. Well done!
      And congrats! “)

    • Wow, the meter in this is gorgeous. Evokes the great classic poets. Impressive.

    • Tremendous work. Powerful writing.

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    The Pond (N.E. Challenge)

    Like an old man,he stares out over the still and calmat age seven,on the slick, red clayby the edge of the pondwhere his brother slipped and slidaway under the milky, glass surface,bobbing up and downlike a corkon the end...

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    A Public Facility

    Sequel to Sperm CountI know many of you think I must be a terrible person. I mean, what kind of professional agrees to personally help a patient collect a sample of semen? What kind of nurse pulls a guy's...

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    • You’re a wonderful person, Meg. And an outstanding writer. I love your stories and poetry. Expert at writing erotica and by your picture you’re gorgeous. I don’t judge nor would I here. Sorry, I saw this post had no comments and you spilled alot out. Keep doing what you’re doing, Meg.

      Danny boy

      • Awe, thank you, Danny. Curiously, there are not a lot of ‘story’ writers or readers here. I’m guessing it’s because the majority of the membership seems to be transplanted from DUP… which is fine by me. I usually prefer poetry over prose, but most writing sites cater to prose. I’m good with 50/50, and I’m sure that’s the vision.

        If there’s ever been a confessional, this is kind of it. What can you really say.

        Thanks for reading, Danny!

    • You write your feelings at that moment so well that I can feel as if I am in your place.

    • A 10 minute story that held my interest. Not many can do that. You DK always create some marvelous story with explosive detail and imagery. Noting short of being a classic write. Your a talent and know how to stir a man or a woman’s imagination. xxx.

    • Excellent work. You bring it to life. Tremendous work. Stay hard at it. I appreciate you.

      • I’m all about bringing good things to life, Thomas. I’m so glad you’re holding my hand.

    • Meg, you take me along with you into the scene as I read. It is as if I were there seeing it all, hiding in a corner. Truly exquisite prose artist you are. Your narrative grips me as I read. I can feel it all through your crystal clear writing. You are truly talented. I am a really enjoying these. The ending here has me on the edge of my seat. I can’t wait t read more of this story.

      John

      • John, that’s such an amazing comment from a talented writer like you. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re enjoying my stories and following me!

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    Dark Meat

    Somehow, every Thursday it’s always the same, my husband in the corner screaming my name, tied up in a chair, pathetic and nude. He’s soft, and he’s small. I’m wet, and I’m crude.   Black stallion from the precinct in a pressed uniform unzipping and stripping the clothes that I’ve...

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    • Great write and surprising end.You do have nice fantasies.
      Any reason you chose DampKitten as your nom de plume ?

      • I’m glad you like it, Peter. It’s on the rough side, but I muffle the aggression with the surprise at the end.
        My nom de plume was actually given to me in a story several years ago on a terminated erotica site called BooksieSilk. I frequently wrote stories back and forth to this person. In one of her stories about me, I arrived at her house soaked from a thunderstorm. She took me upstairs to the bath and undressed me in front of the mirror, describing me as a ‘damp kitten’. The name stuck.

    • A violent, sexually deviant poem that expands my lust for anything kinky. “Pinching the berries” Never heard that term before. I like it. Maybe in my next poem I’ll talk about slicing off those berries and having the girl eat one while I eat the other.
      Awesome piece my friend. xo

      • Occasionally, I get into some extremely rough writing. You might be pleased to know that I date a female dom who works at my clinic and is an expert in mixed martial arts. (Yes, I’m married. My hubby knows all about it.) She likes to use me as practice material, and I love for her to beat the shit out of me. My husband watches. It makes him hard. I actually follow her to competitive MMA matches for amateurs, and it turns me on massively to watch her kick another girl’s ass in the ring. She often fucks me in the parking lot between matches and leaves me a mess in the back of my jeep, sometimes rolling down the windows so people can easily look inside. She once placed all my clothes on the hood, so I had to go outside naked to retrieve them.

        • Now that’s hardcore! DAMN! This girl sounds like a one woman army. FUCK! As long as she doesn’t beat the shit out of you where your face is all busted up. Leaving your clothes on the hood is one thing, placing them in a fast food joint is another. I can picture you walking into McDonalds stark naked after getting fucked looking for your clothes. Sitting, eating their fish filet is some religious, baptist family who don’t take to kindly sex or any nakedness. They start waving their hands up to the heavens screaming and carrying on. They get out of their seats and begin throwing their food at ya. Little Willie looks at you and smiles. His first hard-on.
          Poetspeak & I need to make a trip down to Mississippi.

          • Bring it down here, baby.
            Ashley isn’t going to put me at risk to be arrested… but she does some risky shit. She’s not opposed to showing me off as her bitch. I’m not opposed to being owned and a little abused. Nothing facial. She stripes my ass not infrequently.

    • A BDSM story in verse! My favorite genre!

    • I’ve got a belt like that
      Ironically it never holds my pants up
      Book her
      I’ll be there soon to interrogate

      BAD UNCLE LIKE

      • Bad Uncle, huh?
        Did you read or watch the movie, “Red Sparrow”??? It’s the Russian spy flick where they train women to seduce the enemy. The movie stars Jennifer Lawrence and, while the plot is not well delivered by cinema, the erotic scenes are hot. I think it’s her ‘bad uncle’ from the KGB that pulls her into this ‘occupation’ after an injury at the dance studio where she was poised to become a successful ballerina.

        In any event, Jennifer undergoes quite a lovely interrogation at one point. If you haven’t seen it, I’m sure you’d like it.

    • I don’t know who’s storytelling is naughtier hehe 😉 again, great write.

    • Don’t lose that ass, Mary. It’s my wonderland.

    • I can make it juicier

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    Poetspeak Sweet

    I dreamStrawberry Supremeon a Poetspeak bench byan afternoon streamsoft clouds in a metaphor skyfrothy cream on the seamof my warm cherry piegooey icing oozing overhis sticksalty lips taking sipswith my tongue doing flipsin the parkto an iambic beatsummer fun in...

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