eleventh song

i met you standing at this wall

of uneven gray-white blocks

that neatly connect into each

other so tightly

like hand into glove

a giant puzzle that skillful labor’s

hands have built to last.

you smile at me with dusky eyes

beckoning

‘come more close’

to view/to touch/and to taste

from your lips that slightly open

for me

kissing you close

reach

for your skin that glows warmly

on my eager searching palms.

you let me touch you and entice

me taking off your soft shirt top,

it’s getting dark

but there’s nobody around

to watch us

not here at a wall

we do not mind as we are keen

to search each other’s bodies,

to undress and kiss each other’s

scents and sweetness.

my lips touch your bosom

enclose your hardened nipples

that make you pour out ready

wetness that my fingers feel

between your thighs

my head goes down on you

hands open belts and buttons

let your pants tumble down.

i kiss your belly that stretches

leads me to your vagina’s open

lips that I have touched

through your pants and your

opening welcome legs.

‘i want to fuck you anetha’, i say

“slide on top of my waist, let me lift

your back against this bed of stone

that radiates the sun still enclosed

slumbering from the day

into you

your arms circling around my neck

facing you and your heaving breasts

your back touches the smooth stone

excitedly

as if you would touch

the surface of my skin

let you slide down to my thighs with legs

around me to this angle that you like

sliding into me

lowering your bums

your thighs sitting on mine

we find the right angle to join

the perfect fit like stones on the wall

your cunt on my cock

my rocking hardness

that slides in you

oiled push and pull

with circling moves and with

digging into you like an animal

in heat

moans and groans and words

emanate of me

in between we kiss and i squeeze

your breasts

you want me to bite your nipples

Just enough you get more excited

stretching out against the wall

that suites your catlike-moves

slow and sensual and as we

build up more of our want

and feel the waves of rising heat

my finger rubs your lovely clit

you moan in a dance of cats

in heat ‘i am ready soon’ i say

but breathing made it heavy

to whisper

but we say words

we always want to hear that

make us come ‘fuck me hard’

your words press out between

short and heightened breath

‘i fuck you faster now and hard’

rocking my pelvis into you,

i hear my hissing sounds

‘anetha come with me!’

we ride and slide until we are

so ready now

‘come’ you say to me, ‘come!’

your hands tugging in my hair.

a final move into your cunt until

the tilt

my balls now push

against your bums

in a last push deep into you

I come into your tightening pussy

holding still

to feel this climax fully

my ejaculation showers into

you with spurts I help along

with involuntary further pushes

every time i feel it coming out

of my bursting cock

intermittently

spastic sensations

sweet pussy

holding you tight and close

my head on your breasts

sucks with lips that are dry

and swollen

your still erect nipples rub against

my rasping tongue, in your

final enjoyment of these pleasures

we found lustful sweet

stretching against a warm rock

as a bed

‘anetha/oh anetha/how I love

to fuck you’

close-up and against a sloping wall

like climbing up a  mountain

to reach its distant apex

feel exhilarated/free from pain and

gravity

and soar among the cotton wool

of clouds.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’02/’20.

retribution

your eye shines like a

miniature helix nebula

microcosm – macrocosm

the universal order

above and below

wherein all your life’s

happenings shine

like crystal inserts in a ring

set with gemstones.

the poet writes about the

eye of a muse

he befriended

dissected her innermost

fears

and her greatest joys

perhaps she was though

putting him on a bit

or maybe it was all set

as a play

in his inner theatre of

imagination

but at one stage

high flying turns to

low falling

sweet turns bitter.

yet in a burst of attraction

making-up is love’s biggest

feast.

the untimely passing of a

partner/muse/lover/sister/

hobnob/mother

will always be a tragedy

we live with

all our lives in thought

yet still –

the work of the bone-man

we call a treacherous deed

cheating on one’s happiness

but the only retribution

will be words strung to chains

of verses –

will words be sharp as a

samurai sword for the poet

will it cut all ghosts of the

immediate past into thin

slices of stanzas?

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’20.

tenth song

i looked upon your stance

against the heaped-up stone

this wall/your body’s softness is

set against its hewn-out surface

like this urge in me to kiss you

softly

press my lips against your

body’s lower lips whose swellings

beckon me to reach out and feel

their shapes along your skin-tight

pants

the roundness of your bosom

invites my hands to echo their

shape and let their marbled skin

lie in my hands

their pointed nipples sing and dance

between my fingers that unrestrained

became alive on your torso

i fully explore

disrobing your body halfway

my other hand slips down on

your belly and seeks your lower

lips

whose warmth and moistness

feels irresistibly stirring and arouses

my body’s sinewy loins

let me slide down on you

kiss your vaginal lips that

have shaped their welcome

through your clothes

in this want to have you

to hold you in my circling

hands

that caress your bums

fingers in your folds

i hear you crying out ‘ohhh’

soft and urging me on to

love you again and again.

my head is in your wetness

breathing into you the way

you breathe/fast/excitingly

and more it builds to a storm

as lips cover lips and fingers

slide tongue tasting you

another cry that follows your

come…

my want is at its piercing height

lifting you high up

against this wall that radiates

the day’s deep sucked-in heat.

in this warmth you slide down

onto me and enter my shaft

that pushes inside you, ‘ahh’

in sounds and sighs of love

holding you in close caress

you cannot resist to move

up and down climbing this

high/warm wall

whose hewn surface becomes

my skin

you slide upon

in ever increasing riding

moves you jump on me and

into me with lustful roughness

vocal bursting exclamations

that i feel i am like this wall

you climb with cat-like moves

and in this absorption of a

heated stone and naked skins

my cock pushes you up and

down

together we climb to the peak

of this fine heaped mountain

then slip and fall

in excitement

with burns and in agony

to hold on to loosened stones

that let us slide

fall down into this valley of

a ‘little death’

in our summits clamoring

in ecstatic closeness

stretched to the hilt

in a fuck against this wall.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’02/’20.

nineth song

did you see the primeval light

in your agony/close to death?

why do you live?

why did you suffer?

yesterday and tomorrow

reach out and join hands

downfall and rebirth of cultures

an ever present enigma of

this world

what was created must perish

what has passed must resurrect

this/the sense of our existence?

is love like death

the final level of exultation?

the fields of remembrance of our

youth and innocence

are reason enough for living

worth enough to have lived for.

the stirring times of youth’s doubts

and its internal fights

shape its unfaltering spirits

now in maturity returning again

to naïve beliefs

and sentiments of childhood?

why do you live?

why did you suffer?

overpowering feelings of love

reborn again?

love and pain/close sisters

in utmost exultation and equal

in ecstatic caress

how deep love cuts so sharply

as if a lance has intruded

a shaft that entered smoothly

ice-cold

broiling inside you

in heat’s sliding repetitively

until exasperation opened up

your soul for him to share

in liquefying intimacy.

sweeping along in speeds of

pureness of desires

and in clean-burning passion

on this superhighway’s glide

o passionate/o lustful/

o sweet fucking anetha

the sights and sounds of

your pussy

blessed my throbbing cock

tonight.

let me lie down

spread your arms like on a

cross

lovingly i enter you

and drive my nails of lust

into the pinkness of your

womb’s sweet suffering and

your intermittent moans

i will not let you die

but if we die

we die together

on this symbolic cross of union

and of pure love

in this pounding of my loins

that suffocates your innermost

until your face lights up

in radiance of ecstasy and lust

that’s just like similar in pain

your voice lances my heart

and cuts into my soul

in this high note of your topmost

cry that has penetrated me

just like my shaft penetrates you.

alleluia.

why do you live?

why did you suffer?

i pierced you through in loving

pushes

our eyes are full of tears

but our loins are full of joy

even if we grieve at a distance

that causes our sufferings

who is she who would not weep

in such distress?

who would not feel compassion

for two lovers distanced like this?

souls unified and tormented

subjected to dejection and to

ridicule

ana/my beloved fountain of love

sharing my ecstasy and desires

in this depth of our sufferings

i am in you and plant my seed

warmly into your inner soul!

Imprint this love and sweet

togetherness

deeply in our hearts

to share this loving crucifixion.

weeping/burning/vehement

in my pelvic thrusts

until our bodies weep in this

pureness of lust

we burn and we are aflame

calm together in the purgatory

of our passion’s darkness

that creates this inner peace

that heals the wounds of

this crucifixion.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’02/’20.

eigth song

you’ve called on me –
a moment of an instant light
a ray of sunshine that brakes
through huddled sheep like
clouds
let my mood swing back
where we left off in our
caresses of love.
here you evoked in me
memories of a tender time
when our love was new and
budding so promising
like the roses that grow around
the white cottage down the sea.
wild and rambling
like our love
with all the sweetened scents
and velvet touches
thorns that spike me into s sense
of pain
that rather turns into sweet relief
while the drops of blood that
fall from me mingling with the
red petals of your lips
and will kiss away these drops
of love-tears
rubies of my innermost
sucking in my lips
my face/my eyes/my head/tips of
my nipples
my chest and my melting body
my cock that hangs enticed
ready to burst in your gasping
mouth.
i am all swallowed up
while my lips are emerging
in your vulvas pink and scarlet
mouth, where I do live now
from this moment on
until your excitement will
have me fully fledged
up on you again.

zoltanzelan
zjg-poetry’02/’20.

seventh song

he wakes in darkness of

an early morn’

he wants her touches

the imprints of her lips

to feel on his own lips

sliding down on him

along his body’s bowing

stretches

feel the softness of her hands

he so much enjoys breezing

across his face

his neck and shoulders

her head that lies

on his chest and her lips

seek out with fervent repeats

his pointed nipple’s burns

to her stroking

going down on him and

caressing him ever so softly

warmly and with wetted

open lips

playful fingers touch

his awaking hardness

holding onto this life in him

that she is eager to taste

and slide upon

suck up his cock now

fully into her vulva.

This/the sexual love he wants

she’s lusting for to give

in this early morn’s first round

when her thoughts would

deeply rouse him

when she touched him

with her glowing nakedness

his body instantly receives.

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’02/20.

sixth song

you went away to go to

church and celebrate

be part of a tradition

i do just faintly know

but then recall

that once i observed it

in my youth’s early days

in my town of birth.

i am restless and i want

to find you

seek you out between

the masses of people and

the priests

listen for some time to

ancient rites and to these

traditional songs that

celebrate the rebirth

of a deep belief.

there! I found you

sitting in your pew

sunk deeply into thoughts

of whatever you are thinking

well now

i know that you feel my

close-by presence

as you stir and our eyes will

meet

sending sparks that gleam

reflections of gold and silver

from the altar’s vessels

from the shining halos

of so many icons

the golden threads of

bearded priest’s vestments

sending us the signals

to elope and rush away

on these gleaming rays

to the nearby yard

the outside warmth that

suddenly envelops us

like all excitements we feel

in this secluded garden

where this one place exists

where lovers meet

to express their loving

in tight physical closeness

in a niche that offers us

the privacy we need.

where you now knee

in front of me

where I have slid so

tightly into you

you sigh and mingle your

cry with the traditional

songs of the priests

that blend so well into

this night –

this night we can love

together so well

in my clinging to your

body’s back

I feel your spasms and

with it my spiral flight of

sweetness

in a final push and pull

that elevates me high

and tastes so

bitter-sweet.

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’02/’20.

antennas

there’s hardly a sound

to hear

except for the knock on

the door

the neighbour who comes

around

saying hello

before lockdown 3 will start

in three days

all is still

besides the daily contracted

people

who still are lucky to hold

a job

have moved early this morn’

to finish up midday.

then – as all goods and food

have been shopped already

will return to suburbia

to spend the x-mas holidays

at home

but not so the well-to-do

and dedicated sports pals

who’ll inundate the ski resorts

but this year with strict

adherence to health reg’s

wearing masks wherever

they will gather

inside or outside inns and

bars or facilities

lockdown 3 reg’s will bite.

the artist has depicted masked

people of the 2020 massing

already some years back

when fear gripped his heart

poets/artists

equipped with sensitive

antennas.

antennas.sannetna

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’20.

fifth song

the day was long and

tedious

the words that I seek

now hang in tatters

around the branches of

my tested brain

there is no way I can

escape from this ticker tape

trashed environment.

my head is saw and my

arm seeks some rest

as if it would be tired

of its permanent attachment

to my body

in a sudden attempt for

an independent life.

my heart is aching

i have not heard from you

since yesterday

there! a message!

a sign that you’ re alive

thinking of me

in my tiny writer’s place

this space I would not

trade for any riches –

‘yes’ you say, ‘i seek you!’

my heart beats out

loudly in a leap.

‘i kiss you softly’ I reply

‘because i love you’

‘i want you now!’ you urge

‘it is high time for me

‘i have to go!’

it is a time that puts on

pressures even for

love and leisure

but sometimes love is

sweet thus pressured

off come clothes and shoes

shirts and pants

i hold you in my arms

i feel the hardness on me

your body rubs into.

in this sudden flux of feelings

want and burns of desire

that light-up our bodies

with a glow that wanted

to be ignited

by an instant action.

i spread you on the floor

of this soft fine carpet

white/artificial/fur like grass

inviting you to stretch

and wriggle

turning me and sliding

onto me

riding me in this prurience

of this special moment

that makes this fuck

so sweet and burning

and double lustful

in fear

that someone could come

and see us fornicating

through the window’s

faded/blue stained frames

that stand invitingly ajar.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’02/’20.

fourth song

first thoughts are: you

like all the thoughts

that guide me through

the day

long before the birds

appear and wake me up

with their lively warbles

you already woke me

with your thoughts.

i feel your body close

this warmth that speeds

its life into me

this warmth that feeds

our fragile existence.

this morning and this

fusion of love that spreads

in me so rapidly

that has virtually captured

both our lives so very

strikingly.

it is now that I do

the things you also do

the love that you want

is the love in me that

you ask for yourself:

‘how did this happen

to us two?

who are so much in love

that nothing and nobody

can now change this world

we have created

to dive into

to live in there

we seek so urgently?

a place where we are

completely free of shackles

and any burdens

that so hard sits upon us

bending spirits and the

hearts

free in the lightness

of our touches

the lips that fly across

our bodies

the tongues that speak

this wondrous language

that our bodies seek.

the conversation of our

limbs

our attracted physiques

this endless, never ending

topic that creates

this rising fire consuming us

our hearts and souls

and from whose heaped-up

ashes

repeatedly we rise

in exhilarated moments

a pair of wide-winged birds

that soar up into space

in a constant urgent quest

experiencing eternity.

eternity? elysian fields?

whatever words describe

the endlessness.

love is endless.

love is the universe.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’02/’20.