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A stallion pure and thorough bred
With sinewy limbs and a regal head
Entranced a maiden:  coy, fragile
Her naïveté peeking through her guile
The touch of skin on skin, ablaze
The arching back, the dreamy gaze
Oblivious to the world around
When hearts were lost and hearts were found
They rode around without a care
With hair afloat a back stripped bare
Through wind and water, sky and sand
They trod the depth and breadth of land
Love melding with the sunset's hues
With ochres, crimsons, lilacs, blues
She held him firm as 'e sprinted on
Her hands alive on 'is rippling brawn
Both breathless, panting, fit to drop
By a trove of aspen, came to stop
They laid down on the cooling grass
And watched the stars in heaven's pass.
The moments' magic, in their midst
Where gift of fate their presence kissed
The sound of stillness filled the air
To interject , neither could dare
In the conversations of the souls
No words suffice, nor phrases hold
Each secret there that instant shared
All love exchanged, and none was spared.

By the morning sun, came duty's hail
And both knew what devoirs entail
To be with each , although they longed
Of different earths, their loam belonged
They thought, they planned, they tried devise
But union came at a selfish price
In a firm embrace they held on tight
Accepting it was a time not right
And bravely to departure led
Through aching ******* good byes were said
A part of each, with the other sent
For a farewell isn't where love should end
So holding on their transformed heart
On the stage of life, resumed their part
And each then took their separate way
no matter what, wherever they stay
for rest of time, they had had that day
for rest of time, they had had that day!
Anne Scintilla Jan 2017
****** of the talk
Stopped there, "we have tomorrow";
It was her last night.
010517  20:58

We don't always have a tomorrow. "Next time" is a curse.

AS
Stephanie Frank Dec 2016
As the music reached its ******
And my soul reached a crescendo
My heart wanted to relax
But my body pleaded an encore
anonymous Aug 2016
deep poetry is the only ****** this poet needs
a touch of moonlight & my whole body will ache.
the dead bird Feb 2016
the frustration I had
after failing
to bring myself to ******
for the
tenth
time this past week
makes me more
furious
than depressed

seriously
my *** drive
has always been high

as soon as I
got over
the shame
society places on women
for enjoying
their sexuality
I have always used
*******
as a release
relieves
stress
leaves me
relaxed
and
content

or should I say,
left me
feeling that way

usually
it was once a day
fairly frequent
but, it
matched
my *** drive's
needs

what the **** is wrong with me

I have tried
imagining,
watching,
reading,
looking at
every form
of erotica
that exists

I have searched
through everything
I can find
from
****,
******,
stories,
comics

and my search history
will let you know
that I've searched
everything
from
****
to
******
to
interracial lesbian forced *******
and things
worse
than that

e v e r y t h i n g

used to take me,
oh, I dunno
maybe three minutes
with my *******?

after
around an hour
is when I give up
now
I even bought
a different
*******
NO
RELEASE
NO
PASSION
GONE
what is
WRONG
WITH
ME

oh yeah -
depression

I mean
I knew it was bad
when video games
no longer
had appeal
that was enough

games
have been a passion
and a hobby of mine
since I was five

the other hobby
I started a bit older than five
but
you stole that one, too

after depression
beat the **** out of me
on Tuesday
I thought that was it
thought
since the next morning
I awoke
without the urge
to **** myself
it was over

nope

you have robbed me
of the simplest
things
in my life
that give me pleasure

no more
wriggling
moaning
spasming
the tingling
sensation
that starts in my toes
and makes its way
up
the length of my body
the warmness
that follows
with it
the
satisfaction
slight smile
snuggly
sleepy
post ****** me

I miss her
give her
back

I miss my life
give it
back

this isn't
ME
for ***** sake!

I am a ******
witty
humorous creature
full of passion
looking
for opportunities
to get myself off!
not this
depressed
apathetic
vessel
without soul.

you won't stop
until you have
everything
in my life

you won't stop
until you
put
my soul in your mouth
chew
grind
crush it

your saliva
breaks me down

spit me out
please
I am fighting
for you to cough me up
regurgitate
the essence
of me
let me put myself
back inside this body
please
please

no
you won't stop
you will eat my soul
until
ever fiber
protein
ounce of health
I had
is now
inside of you,
depression

cold-hearted *****
I know it is a tough topic. Not a poetic topic. Not a topic that easy to talk about.
But I don't ******* care.
This *****.
K Balachandran Feb 2016
A frizzy blue black shadow, there you hold,
curtaining off the door to the pleasure garden,
in my frenzied day dreams, it seems like  everglades
where your chiseled alabaster legs smugly join in.

It would take many shapes in my hazy dreams
when my ***** imagination, for you  is in an overdrive,
at times it's a soft  winged butterfly flitting around your *****
intermittently sitting on your thighs, inching slowly upwards,
how it takes my breath away! in each of it's tickling move.
Excited I ogle,  and just then it assumes the look of a face,
with such inviting succulent lips,  I fully lose my patience
at first the kiss is soft, a fervency takes over,then, I slip in to a trance
erotically charged and ecstatic,  I hear you moan,when I  explode!


കാമ   നിഴല്നാടകം
------------------------------------
കുനുകുനെ കരിനീലയാമൊരു
നിഴല്‍ അവിടെ നിനക്കുണ്ട്‌
സുഖകവാടത്തിനു മൂടുപടമൊന്നിട്ടപോലെ
എന്‍ ഭ്രമ ഭരിതമാം പകല്‍സ്വപ്നങ്ങളി
ലതു നീര്‍ നിലമായിമാറുന്നു.
                                                ­                                  
നിന്‍ വെണ്ണക്കല്‍  കടഞ്ഞ
കാലുകള്‍  ചേരുന്നൊരിടം.
എന്‍ ഭാവന യുടെ കാമ സ്വപ്നങ്ങള്‍
  നിന്നെത്തേടിപ്പായവേ
എന്‍  അവ്യക്തസ്വപ്നങ്ങളില്‍
അതു, രൂപാന്തരങ്ങള്‍തേടുന്നു.
ചിലനേരംനിന്‍അരക്കെട്ട്ചുറ്റി
യൊരുചിത്രശലഭംപറക്കുന്നു            ­                  
ഇടയിടയില്‍ നിന്‍ തുട പറ്റിയിരുന്നു 
 മേലോട്ട്മെല്ലെനീങ്ങുന്നു.
അത് മെല്ലെ ഇക്കിളിയിട്ട്മേല്‍പ്പോട്ടു
നീങ്ങാന്‍ തുടങ്ങവേ
 എന്‍ ശ്വാസം  നിന്നുപോവുന്നു!
ഉന്മാദിയായിഞാനവിടെ നോക്കുന്നു,
അവിടെയൊരുമുഖമല്ലേകാണ്മൂ
മദ ഭരിതമാ ചുണ്ടുകള്‍ കാണുമ്പൊള്‍
ഞാന്‍ എന്നെത്തന്നെ  മറന്നു        
മൃദു ചുംബനം, ലഹരി പകരുന്ന മുത്തം
പിന്നെ,എല്ലാം മറന്നമയക്കം!
രതിലഹരിയില്‍ നിന്‍  വിതുമ്പല്‍ കേള്‍ക്കെ
ഞാനുമൊരുകാമ വിസ്ഫോടനമറിയുന്നു
(In Malayalam Translation)
Edna Sweetlove Jan 2016
Night falls over Soho and, gazing into some cheap ****'s eyes
Over a candelit-chequered-food-stained tablecloth,
Beneath my belt an immense ******* lurks leakily,
The seams of my ****** soaked with bursting lust,
My groin twitching in desire for her wanton ****-flesh.

Streetlight shining through threadbare curtains
Glinting sexily over my hairy pounding buttocks;
My screamed roars of pleasure echoing
In the deepest depths of her tenth-rate mind;
Her poor brain collapsing in mighty mid-******.

Morning reveals a classy scene to chambermaid's gawp:
Spread-legged cold-as-chilled-salami ****,
Puny brainbox imploded like mashed bananas
By staggering rivulets of overpowering *******
Like a duck's entrails in an unwashed sink.
Benjamin Haynes Jan 2016
Death
is
subjective.

Harvests
of
thought
which
stir the
midnight
consolations
churn
and
turn
empty
capacities.



Emotions
which
awaken
yet
cease
all
in
the
space
of
30
spent
seconds,
little
slaughter.


Equinoxes
sprung
and
autumnal
spines
break
flooding
in
a whispered
annihilation.

Expiration
morphs
wasteland
into
sentience
as
Darkness
of
a post
apocalypse
draws
and
sketches
on
a
spent
sheet of
paper.
Tab Jan 2016
I want to kiss the side of your neck and leave it at that
I want to leave warm kisses all over your neck
I want to turn a few minutes of making out into hours of finding love
I want to give you goosebumps, turning your skin into braille
Writing a poem about the ****** of our love
Cheyenne Sep 2015
I could say what is cliche
"Our bodies tangled,
In crimson silk sheets.
Hearts and bodies joined as one.
Passion and love.
Climaxing together,
In sweet unison.
Forever mine."

Or I could say the truth
"Heart pounding,
Mind numbing
Lust.
Moaning,
Screaming,
Begging for more.
Nails digging into your back,
Sweat,
Want,
Need.
Swallowing every drop,
Like a good girl should.
Mine for tonight."
****** poems are so often cliched, and I can write that if you wish. But I prefer something so much more real.
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