In a pornographic poem
ee cummings wrote
may i feel ,
Fell the nicest of the rhymes into
Brooks of sholas
Untidy caveman and lady in water
Heard the words in the streams
Though evaporated few from the stream
There stood ee Cummings on the banks
With the inks for liquid state
Somewhere he again stood
With the inks for gaseos state
Aftermath of reading the verses of sanity. And the Cycle continues liquid gas liquid gas liquid. Poem verses are heard by many , are being heard live and many to be heard. Embrace the moments Past, Present and Future . Prosper
Shannon May 5
It's only you that i want,

that I need,

that I could have,

But also you weren't mine to keep.

I wanted to be held by you,

feel your hands on me,

Your lips on my skin,

I wanted you to feel what I had felt for you.

And I had a deeply hidden

And inarticulate desire for something beyond,

It's an inclination, disposition.

an impulse, a craving, a yearning.

This wasn't as ruining,

But yet it has taken every part of me to not think of.

A libido for you, a sensuality,

Lust to take all that I had to give,

And I'd given it—
Ormond May 3
.
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower,
And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed,
She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes,
Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,
As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair
And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,
Softly he drove his hunting command, homing
To his huntress.

Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance.
Ruthlessly, he thrust his arrow deeper and then
Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely
And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more
Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white
Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark
Dominion of her quarters.

In the middle of this carnal match they paused.
And looking into the forest beyond they saw
A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,
Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved
By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent
Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle
Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on
The human hunters did not speak.

Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep.
Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew.
He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing
Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle
As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood.

In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke
And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring
Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves
With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,
Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings
Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning.

Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid,
And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made;
She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed
Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable,
In Artemis’s wood.
.
In the classical period of Greek mythology, Artemis was often described as the daughter of Zeus and Leto, and the twin sister of Apollo. She was the Hellenic goddess of the hunt, wild animals, wilderness, childbirth, virginity and protector of young girls, bringing and relieving disease in women; she often was depicted as a huntress carrying a bow and arrows. The deer and the cypress were sacred to her.
.
You might think
That I’m lewd,
Crude and nasty,
But I just want to show everyone
What I’ve GOT!
I ain’t GOT
No Doctorate Degree.
I ain’t gonna’ impress Nobody
With my mind.
I didn’t even bother
Completing High School
School was all just BULLSHIT
To me!
But anyone who sees my BODY
Is gonna’ be drooling on the Floor!
You might say
That I’m “power hungry”
‘Cause I like men
To lust after me,
But I ain’t no more Power Hungry
Than anyone else in this World!
I’m not going to  kick anyone with my boots,
Torture 'em
Or Whip 'em
With a Ball and Chain
Even if some men
Want me to
I know that the money is good
For that kind of work
But I’m afraid
That it would turn me into  a Masochistic Bitch!
I find no joy
In the suffering of others.
I am NOT  that type of Girl.
I just want everyone in  the Whole World
To Fantasize about ME!
I just wish
That every man on Earth
Wanted make love to ME
Rather than someone else.
Look at me!
Be honest now.
Ain’t I  smokin’ hot?!
Don’t I turn you on
More than anyone else?
Is there really anyone out there
You’d rather fuck
More than ME?
I don’t  think so!
So,
What’s wrong
With wanting to be worshiped and praised
As a Sex Goddess?
It’s better than worshipping
The stupid-ass,
Misogynistic god
Most of you motherfuckers
Are worshipping today.
I don’t drop bombs on anyone or anything!
No way!
I ain’t that type of gal!
I just want to push every button
That will turn you on!
I show you my body
So you will practice love
Rather than  hate.
So, don’t ashamed
Of yoself.
Praise me!
Flatter me!
Tell me all the things
You want to do with me.
Tell me how
You appreciate
Each part of my body,
Tell me that I’m sexier
Than any other women on Earth
Tell me that
The Best You Ever Seen!
This model from 500px was my muse.
https://500px.com/photo/229173973/dumisa-by-noir-nus?ctx_page=3&from=user&user_id=17824417
There are many well-written erotic poems
On Hello Poetry today.
In my aging,
Post-divorce reality
I can't say
That I have much to add to the mix
Other than sex being a good  way
To relinquish the ego.
Two "separate individuals"
Become one
For a few minutes
Or hours.
They "lose themselves",
As Eminem would say.
From a creative standpoint,
This is a very good thing.
Mixes up
That stagnant chi.
However,
In actuality,
We are never really "separate"
From anyone
Even if they exclude us....
If if they shun us.....
They are not really
"Separate"  from us
Even if they are
Unwilling to have sex.
hkr Apr 30
You talk about your past lovers like cuts of meat;
The big breasts on this one, the thick thighs on that one, the firm ass on the other.
You call them Chicken, Cow, Pig.
You call me Dear.

I walk into your abattoir  of my own accord
and tie myself to the gambrel,
ask you to slaughter me, please, slaughter me.
Always the slaughterer, never the slaughtered,
I want to know what it feels like.

You do as I ask: strip away my skin, slice open my chest, remove my vital organs.
You have to separate my consciousness
from my carcass
to finish.

I am venison, fresh.
You mount my head on your wall
next to the others and
shut my eyes.
Peter B Apr 28
She wants me
to paint her,
she calls me
her little Vermeer.
I Just Want TO Say

I Love All Of You

Even the ones who have hurt me
Because I have learned
And I will continue to learn
That sticks and stones can break your bones
But only rain can break your brean
Thanks guys! Please comment and like if you have a second! Love you -Carndall
Haleigh Apr 24
Boy
Put your wavy brown hair and green eyes

In the spot between my thighs
Haleigh Apr 24
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into
your smart, ethical decisions while I touch
quite gently
ripping to shreds
your photon ends.

Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows
until they blow out of proportion
merging your interests with mine
like the longing of eyes
uncanny in its distortion.

Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions
ideas slipping carefully into place
like a sterile, unflinching blank slate
inching towards computed devotion.

Dear, let me carry out some foreplay
as long as you bend, not break,
delightfully stroking the edge of your plate.

Dear, let me come so close to your face
so close that it becomes blurry.

Where are my glasses in all this flurry?

Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire
shooting flames out the window
beyond everything you’ve ever known;
beyond anything you desire.

Dear, let me kiss you to submission,
your brain waves in motion
as I twist and slip into them
hormones ablaze
lighting up for days
your synapses recapturing
in a binocular haze.

Dear, let me flop on top of you
like a floppy disk, uploading your lips
into my hardrive.

Do I make you hard as fire?

Slowing burning
my hot fingers curling
up your robust spine
cracking it into
chiropractor sublime.

Massaging your tired broad shoulders
like large sofa ends.

Is this keyboard only
made for pretend?

Dear, let me mind fuck you
take you and light you
brighten your screen
uphold and unseen
neurons fighting as I whisper dirty words
directly into the folds of your tulip ears
too large to hear, and

Dear, let me engage my rage
into a productive haze
bolting out words, unheard of for days.

Dear, let us become undone together
like the battery of a computer
rebooting after a hectic hardware phase.

Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
Next page