Sunday, October 31, 2010
RealEyes
She peers back at me with the intent to love--
By any means necessary.
Breaks away only to carry on her daily tasks;
But returns right back to the eyes that admire her.
Admiration beyond her phenotype--
Intelligence,
Principles, &
Naivete (we know not what the other always knows).
She is very aware herself as my focus--
How I blink,
Only to view her exhibition with crystal clarity;
And how I rest,
To remind me that dreams won't know a beauty like reality.
She loves the scrutiny.
I adore how her smile grows from my intimate concentration.
I love even more,
The faces she makes during penetration.
Her eyes widen with gratitude,
I personally see my worth in their magnitude.
She's crazy about me taking in her everything.
Even when I'm giving her the side eye,
My peripheral doesn't miss her complexity;
I don't overlook her strange.
Nights spent wishing,
Days spent searching,
For someone to notice--
With eyes that are omniscient,
That reflect upon ourselves.
Realize our value exists inside each others eyes,
The reason we walk the earth for--
Find eyes that make you worth more,
Fine eyes that don't lie.
~Brennan R.
"PoetsTruMental"
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Always Time for the Truth
I told you everything for a reason…
If the weather was to change
At moment’s notice,
I informed you-
You would be prepared for the seasons.
I was trying to make you my future…
But the more I unwrapped the present
I found a link to your past-
Felt less like your man
And more like an intruder.
I apologize if you feel as if I wasted your time…
I couldn’t trust
What I loved.
You based it on
Too many lies.
A truth can unravel at any moment…
So at anytime,
If anyone
Ever asks you about your past-
Own It.
~Brennan Brenoso
Monday, September 20, 2010
Come September
Come September (August 13, 2010)
It’s not you, it’s me.
When I’m most elated, my guards are at their highest.
I don’t believe it’s too good to be true.
But I do have this feeling that what is good isn't necessarily true.
I don't know why that it is,
So I may pester you until I do.
I just want to be in control of the Fall when it comes,
Because it will come.
I won't forget to remember-
Come September.
"PoetsTruMental"
Sunday, September 19, 2010
St. Tru
All my life,
I've lived on St. Tru.
Never ever giving anyone reason, to doubt what I do.
But my mind never built this place fair for two.
And you, desperately wanted onto my St. Tru.
YOU?
The one who isn't ashamed to try and play me for a fool.
I'm Sorry-
And that will be my only apology-
That is something I can never share with you.
~Brennan
"PoetsTruMental"
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Locked Myself Out
The words are inside
Full of insight
I feel them picking at locks
And for some reason
I'm locked out
As if these thoughts
Can't be redeemed at the moment
They would cower in the presence of the light
But my words are always therapy
I swear I need a session
Still
Nothing's seeping out
I'm forced to do without..NO!
I need to keep picking...
"PoetsTruMental"
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
We arE motionS tale
Again, they scream adapt!
They scream change!
I finally wonder can I?
The hostile days from where I have come,
Does not have me readily on standby.
After all,
After every long fought night is a new evolution
Now, with others alike, I finally wish to conserve.
Revolutions do not always begin from the bottom up,
Time has come for us to preserve!
We spout back:
“You adapt, you change!”
You rarely even entertain if you‘re capable.
Come your turn to give back,
Unnecessary battles become the only way to break you.
Your dreams don’t equate my reality,
But our realities perpetuates your dream!
Our vitriol swells in this monstrous of a culture-
Selling us various forms of hallucinatory capital,
As you pick at us living dead like the vulture.
We plant the seeds that grow your arms wider!
Ever since the days of our fathers!
But you resist change for the better?
I swear we have been standing face to face with Lady Liberty all this time
And most of us have never even met her!
Produce some earnest scruples instead of capital!
Manifest our destiny!
America, constantly we are motion’s tale!
We will Love you no more!
No, not if you wear emotion stale.
~Brennan Brenoso
"PoetsTruMental"
Friday, February 12, 2010
Gripping Points
My hands climb your figure like a mountain side,
Surveying the gripping points you possess.
I appreciate your hands doing the same
While we kiss with our tongues like we're at war-
A sexual war affair.
I feel your curves
And immediately know
Every twist and bend of your flesh
Will serve a purpose.
I genuinely began with your eyes,
Since they did have a grip on me.
You're full in hips,
The best reference point to steady and pace the rides.
Pleasantly thick from top to bottom,
Allows so much to be given while getting.
Your hair,
Flows down your back,
Which is like a magnet to my palms and fingers
And I don't want to pull away.
No, not yet.
You grab below,
Entering lock and key,
Propelling us to the point of no return.
I playfully battle with your hands-
The obvious gripping points-
Enclosed with each of my own.
Trying to regain control
You're overpowered by the pleasurable pain.
Still you never just remain still.
Our energy drives us to switch positions every now and then-
You top us off as I direct our gyrations at your waist.
My hands go lower and clutch your thickness.
You lean on my chest as if for better posture,
And ride.
I then turn us around-
You twice over, so that you're on your stomach-
And you can barely stomach me
As I bottom out within.
From your belly to our sides,
My only gripping points are your breasts,
One in each hand.
Let one go
And I prop a leg to the ceiling.
In this stretch of time,
We're gripping onto each other
And expressing pent up feelings.
Conceivably, your lips are gripping points too.
Flowing with ecstasy,
You moan out my name,
Knowing I hang onto every word you say
And every sound you make.
I aim to break you,
As you do me,
In the best of ways.
If only for the moment,
Hold me firmly.
Where ever you choose to,
No matter how tight you hold on to me,
Whether your hands make their way from the top of my head,
To the surface of my neck, to deep within the skin of my back
Or to the sheets we sweated on, as you pierce the pillows with your teeth,
You won't be able to grasp what I'm doing to you,
Having giving me your gripping points.
~Brennan Brenoso