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 Mar 2015
asoke kumar mitra
touch me
explore me softly
with your naked hand....................
your oceanic eyes, deep infinite
in you.............

breathing on the back of my neck
in this dead hour of night
fugitive moon pours through the blinds....
missing me?
in my silence missing you too

I am writing the last line
I feel so good to have you
your wild fragrance.....


(C)asoke kumar mitra, march 9.2015:19:48,India,Kolkata
dead hour of night, so good to have you
 Mar 2015
LittleFreeBird
There is something beautiful in the way his fingers dance across my skin
and the shadows they leave.
 Mar 2015
D
I know its forbidden, wish I could stop it
Never felt this way before.
With just a look I swoon
the longing to see your silhouette
The lust buds, yet I can't stop it
When you look at me, my heart skips a beat
Wish I could tame it.
Your smile ignites my demon, if only I could train it.
I Chained it in the darkest hue of my desire.
My dreams is where I could have you, just all to my self
I dream you pinning me against a wall
Your passionate kiss just shudders my soul
and there I stand all melting in your arms.
Yet again its my dream, a forbidden land of my desire
I know my virtues have become blind
but I'm a victim of my dark passion, a crime.
Forbidden it is, I know.
 Mar 2015
SøułSurvivør
---


C'mon, c'mon
My jazzy blue rose,
Let's put on some vinyl
And see how it goes...

We've finished the day,
Now it's a done deal.
Let's snuggle our hips
And see how it feels...

Let's take a long trip
Down memory lane,
Let's go horizontal
Again and again...

But for right now
It's a vertical groove,
I'll hold you close...

... feel you poet heart MOVE!!!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2014
I imagine my love singing this to me...
... only I know the TUNE...
... I'll have to teach it to him... <3
This silent question I asked
for answer endless explored
where’s love grains husked
beyond eyes quietly kept stored!

Is it on the bed we sleep
whose sheet bears marks of lust
or something that’s more deep
hidden neath her layer of crust!

What’s the place love she stores
ceaseless flowing from the start
veiled in her all daily chores
I erred to be the place called heart!

In the house it’s a small nook
here her love makes me dumb
standing mesmerized as she cooks
I wait from her hand love’s crumbs!
 Mar 2015
Jonny Angel
Hot moments
flashed
under me
those afternoons.
Parking lots
made a mess out of me,
day and night
quickies
to please the senses.
I can no longer shop
Darling.
 Mar 2015
The Good Pussy
.          
                                      W
                             o     o  m     o
                         m        a   n         m
                        a            W              a
                      n               o                 n
                     W              m                W
                      o            a    n               o
                      m          W    o             m
                        a          m   a             a
                          n         n W          n
                             W       o         W
                                  o    m     o
                                         a
                                         n
We ****.

I brushed her hair just
the other day
and left stinging
handprints on her
eager flesh like she
loves.

Loved her in an
undertow of
blankets and throes,
fullness and
folds

until the drums
pounded in my
ears and
the adrenaline
burned.

On altars,
in tombs,
the sabbats,
esbats and
moons.

We slap
each other
     for fun;
     she listens
when I tell
her to
.

I'm sure you and
your mate do just
fine,
but

we **** better
than all of you
combined.
This poem is about ****** *******.
"Surreal skeptic, cynical cryptic! Licentious lecheries fabulist façade fantasias. Wild eyed spectral serene. Dream of catenary concoctions, ethereal salacious conjugation, bridge the gap in metaphysical mystique. Erotica erectile errantry’s exserted protuberance is a kinesiology kleptomaniac with his embark embargo extraditions and his eventuation evocative execrations, a positive amalgamated anathema android of a terminus thrall. The shadow in the shade of the silhouette sojourn. The bailiff’s rakeness rails incarnate, unicorn railway nails and all. He will paint mirador bartizan panorama tableaus all over your proximity parameter perimeter peripherals. Force the enmity to acquiesce into impunity.” “Why this is not but an ogling ogre of an oligarchy omelet” she shrieked as he continued to tickle her. “Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugueness,” he said. “Positive orchestration renditions of transpositional interlude.” “Come here,” she said “let my clambering clamorous clangor write you a wield wile treatise expose’.” “The legions of Chinga da are battling the hoards of Gunga din saying ‘kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent’ , it’s sheer genocide. That plasty goop nosed Gumby ****** Gunga doesn’t stand a chance. Coax cacophony clout, catatonic phonics, grizzly grotto grouches all”, She squealed. “Now you’re gumption dreaming”, he chimed. “Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.”
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