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 Apr 2018
lmnsinner
all she wants is trouble
plenty to go round
if we go ten rounds

she is in shape par excellence
flat stomach, boxer curvature arm muscles
legs worth chasing,
******* that rhyme with fest,
hair causal casual over one eye
undraping
me

she’s asking for it
another poem punch in her kisser

and u think why me
now that she knows my crinkled face
graying eyes and you think
the answer is in a previous poem

the answer to everything is
a Texas sized why not?
after all she must like the experience
contained in a man’s too **** brain

and i know cause
got her wrapped around my
cerebellum
 Mar 2018
Arthur Vaso
Gestures so small
Strangers from far away places
Making smiles from sad faces
Saving one from
Thoughts that drown

Simple kindnesses
Caress all of humanity
Whereby one keeps their thoughts
In the warmth of kindled fire

Small gestures
Treasures to hold dear
I dedicate this to Cne, I am not here as much as I should be, sch a great place of warmth by all I have interacted with, I  think Cne because even when not around she comments, sometimes is small random acts of kindness that mean so much. Alas I thank you all as well, lets make poetry great again!!! LOL
 Mar 2018
Jeff Gaines
[In order to "Get" this in it's intended inference,
you MUST read her poem first.
It will make more sense and come off more "correctly" then.]
Click on the link in the comments section below.

---------------------------------------------------------­-------------
---------------------------------------------------­----------------
I would never pay to lay with a woman.
Not in desperation or loneliness, what ever you'd call it.
I'd sooner wrap the money around the column of tension ...
Do my deed and return it back to my wallet.

There are BILLIONS of women ...
All soft and warm.
I love their company ...
Yes, that is my norm.

But there is something
they must understand ...
They can always be easily replaced
With EITHER of my hands!

So this warning ...
It should be heeded ...
I've NO fear of your "Power of the P" ...
And no batteries are ever NEEDED!

To use your precious womanhood as a weapon ...
To this, I can only say "Ouch!"
Such a crime to abuse expression so sacred ...
So I guess I'll go sleep on the couch!

I'm sure you know, that I love it there, in front of my TV ...
You must forever keep this in your head.
And in retaliation, there I will stay ...
until you BEG me back to our bed!

All this talk about toys and hands replacing
something we all know that we need and we'd miss.
All this nonsense is just blowing smoke ...
because NOTHING can replace ...
a warm and passionate kiss.
(Hysterical Laughter!)
This poem is a light-hearted poke at Cné's poem "Just Toying With You"
Enjoy it here:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2302235/just-toying-with-you/
She is awesome.
It is NOT directed at her. We have never met. It was a whimsical "retaliation" of sorts, all in good fun.
It is also the FIRST EVER "******" (if you can call it that) or explicit piece I have written ... here or anywhere.
Good Times!!
 Mar 2018
Jeff Gaines
I like ANYTHING flavored with Onion ...
I like Onion rings ...
I like Onion straws ...
I don't, however, care for them raw.
In powder they're handy ...
On 'taters they're prized ...
And oh that smell ...
As they become caramelized!
I like French Onion Soup ...
I like Onion crisps ...
I like them in doses ...
I like them in wisps ...
On a side note ...
I must be fair ...
I prefer my friends with ...
As many layers ...
For seasoning meat ...
As many have known ...
That flavor infuses ...
Right to the bone ...
I like any type ...
From any ground ...
I've tried so many ...
The world around ...
I like them pureed ...
In macaroni salad ...
Minced in my meatloaf ...
They're definitely valid ...
I like how they smell ...
Even like how they look ...
But for some strange reason ...
They MUST be cooked!
Ok, to put this in context, Cné and I were chatting in messages about cooking. She answered me about something in a rhyme ... not to be outdone, I returned the act.
AND THIS IS WHAT SPILLED OUT!
I DON"T CARE if it sounds like a Dr. Seuss bit ...
I like it!
 Feb 2018
Nat Lipstadt
be my therapist

massage both my temples
from whence these poems originate

will your fingertips perform tailored alterations,
will they insert strange spices and your favors,
unfamiliar but imagined overtime desirable flavors,
thus resolving the question that my answers perpetually fail,
to satisfy my unending need to understand:

how do my temples
speed the heart
bring forth whole poem utterances inconceivable,

reminding me to remember what has yet to occur?

she grins, whimsies me and suggests:

that’s why they have been
appointed anointed announced as the
Temples of You

2:19am 2/19/18
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