Switch

Turn me on.
Walk in, and strut.
Take my kiss, then push me away.
Kiss me again, with a bite to my lip.
Hand into my chest, and say be good.
Slide your hand low, as you slip away.
Rock your hips when you sway into my room.
Drop your cloths from your frame, as if I am not here.
Nude, but for that grin, you tell me to stay put.
The steam rises quick, with a turn of a valve.
Anticipation as I hear the water splash, from you.
My imagination teased, by the reflection seen.
I see the dedication, as your hands cleanse slow.
Every inch addressed, you slip out and dry off.
Heat bellows from that room, into mine.
Only one towel as you dry your hair.
Tell me, not yet, when I try to come.
You wink as I watch you.
Your lean is revealing.
Smooth lotion on a fresh shave.
I see you bite your lip.
Spray a sweet scent.
I cannot wait,
Its on

© Jeph Rants

I am

A thinker, beyond the edge of what has been explained.
Boy into a man with years but no absence of questions.
Quest to find the knowledge I know not now that I need.
The best of the flowers I gather seem to ever expand out.
Most see this as a madness as I run about questioning.

© Jeph Rants

Line Time

Naked and wet we wander into this world.

Scared, into a new we are quickly hurled.

Values of things and those we are taught.

Betrothed by the parental figures we got.

Few choices to be made for our own new.

Guided by others for everything you can do.

The village that surrounds shows you how.

Until one day you leave if then or even now.

You build thick skin and stronger back bone.

Taking it all with you so as to never be alone.

Who you bring into your life past that point.

Only your choice of who you chose to anoint.

Its a journey for sure that we must make.

The adventure is the from the risk we take.

Dusk to dawn and birth to your last breath.

Live until you simply have not one bit left.

© Jeph Rants

shcweet.

A love in poem seems maybe the thing the devil would do.
His way of seeming cliche and therefor normal to you.

Speak of your lips as if they were supple, red like a flower.
Telling of how your words can take away all of his power.

Say how he would brush your hair from your face to see.
How no other true love before or after could ever really be.

A tale he would spill and say it was blood of his wanting.
The joy he weaves will distract from his lies of spawning.

In the short end the demons will know you a virgin no more.
Left fallen for the simplest of tricks left but a verbal whore.

The complex needs deep examination for truth to be told.
Along the lines of exacting and perspective more bold.

© Jeph Rants

Gabrareish

If you ask about me you may know many untruths. Gathered and gained is not more the facts
than the truths learned in lessons face to mine. Whatsoever shall besoever aslongasever will
allow for. None the ware is the warrior for the battles they have seen with eyes covered in fear.
What mask of mascaraed does the doer of deeds dawn upon the mornings brisk attack on the
night. No question is the enchanting way that a false feeling of falling lies to your heart about
the dangers. Waiting is never the fantasy that it would be shown in a move of the mind but for
the lack of control of our own. Wracked and rebellious why wouldn’t the wanten want for more
that what would be given with denial of restraint. How far must one pass and into a trance too.
It is a cycle of insanity of is it more like something that we all know as something that we all
can see in the eye of no sight. Masked and made up to be a doll do you see the jester you
have become in jest of intentions. A barter of belief upon the trivial likes that a collective view
now sees as need less the nourishment of satisfaction. Do the days ends task or at the end of
your own you will never besoever whatsoever aslongasever.

© Jeph Rants

Bar Winch

Turn of head and turn of glance.

I see that look of want of chance.

Hooked and without ever a taste.

Deep inside not an inch to waste.

A moving and moistening of skin.

The need grows for me to begin.

Still I tease not giving in just yet.

Waiting till she begs like my pet.

Licking my lips is doing it now.

I can see the pleasures and how.

Easy to read what she is feeling.

New view found in the same ceiling.

On her back on me found on mine.

A warmth from within grows in time.

Will we ever find each other in here.

I know of your want, just come near.

© Jeph Rants

Castles

I sit upon a stone and shovel hand fulls of sand into yet another bag.

The day can yield many if my fingers can find the hold of helpings full.

Grains gathered together and scraped free of others its not attached.

No sifting as the clumps are pushed in form with the other of my scoop.

Progress seems as if it would find no distractions being a simple task.

Grabbing and filling the gullet of a substantial sack made of a weaving.

Intertwined the lacing not enough to stop any from escaping too quick.

Less than that which has found its way lodge beneath my fingers nails.

The sand less paper no less the wear on my digits the goal seeming far.

Pushing the pulsing of my blood now felt the raw tips of my my hands.

My concentration turns in clouds from paying my toll and pushing on.

Final push and the last of those thoughts are placed inside and knotted.

Heavy and tired my body stands to lift my weighted wants off ground.

Only to drop them hard to form them along top the others piled so high.

My wall comes along and circles myself and but for the stacking is done.

With each new comes the sands of time I need to continue building in.

Days of new are old again and old has become a knowledgeable bore.

With pointers gone my palms will continue to push to build my walls.

© Jeph Rants