#immorality
There were no options; we just had to do it.
No need to get her on the mood; she was on.
Kisses led to takin’ off each other’s clothes.
She’s wearin’ very silky underwear – not a G-string.
Nothing at the top, ******* explored.
She’s lookin’ real weak like she’s sayin’ “take your time”.
Well; I took my time to get her even weaker.
Until she says to me; “I want it now”.
Whispering breathlessly.
Immediately my Greenwich time stood still.
Sweats was on a marathon down my face
Like a glistening dews of mount Horeb
I love it when she starts whispering.
I’m still on my boxers.
She touches me all over.
Even where I thought she wouldn’t.
She licks my finger like I’ve never seen.
Her body is all mine.
We were caught by a hurricane of emotions
In between her legs, going softly
I could feel her nails on my waist.
I can’t stop, she’ speakin’ in tongues.
At the end were all quiet.
I can hear her heart beat.
I stare at her and she smiles a bit.
Her smile says: ‘I love you’.
I know to her I’m for ever ‘The Man’.
Few days later
‘The Man’ is arrested for ****
All he can say was; ‘I didn’t know she was sixteen,
I didn’t know she was sixteen.’
Poets: A-LONE & V54
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 8:09 AM UTC
If oppressing becomes permissible,
Law already is underrated.
If colours mean more to you than life does,
My condolences on your gritty being.
If water turns into money,
Fruits will eventually stop growing.
If you are constantly busy comparing your body with someone else's,
Your soul becomes a slave of the wrong embodiment.
If immorality is the trend of this era,
My style is out of date.
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 1:33 PM UTC
The
whites
of their eyes
remain at a tilt
on the conscience of a child.
The catcher in the web
retain the illusion on the net
the mask of evil is hugely evident
and money in the spank
makes this poem highly irrelevant.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 10:13 AM UTC
...
It's very hard
Trying to make a change in this life
Please fill wisdom in my heart
So that the end of this system, I'll survive
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
...ARGH! Hence the title...
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCLXV)
Spent, ere the fragile chance to what? avail,
Look how blue skies warm in dawn's welcome, whence
Don't roll a single word for aught intents
Across my tongue, jist see, and wonder, pale
As howling oer grey heavns' sheer lack, nor scale
Lo, any bit of this or that cuz sense
Drowned late on Monday night where visions dense
With oh, Victorian airs stole off wee bail.
Yes, when I've but a minute to bestir
My pencil for ah, which detail passed through?
I'm swooning sans a voice yet over her--
That girl whom lit'rature FORGOT, cuz ooh!
She was his mistress; won the world as twere
Because of that keen secret: I've naught cue.
12Mar19a
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 10:19 PM UTC
Existence is a limitless screen of emptiness
Vibrant with jubilant celebrations
And gratitude for the joy in rolling a boulder blissfully up this steep hill.
Tripping over our own thoughts like loosened cobblestones,
We no longer see the reality directly in front of us
The truth is a truce we struck with certainty ages ago.
After losing the desperate struggle...
To cling to some kind of hope buried deep beneath the root of ourselves.
I am fearful of fully failing myself and yet
I love myself best when I am alone with eternity.
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
Look at our daughters
They now show no ill in laying with men old as their fathers
Look at our sons
Nothing is holding them back from scamming the green people with their bad brain and laptops
Look at our mothers, fathers, the young men and alike; women,
They now have no time for their own children,
Everyone is too busy searching for just one thing,
And that is known as MONEY!
Why will a lady lay with a dog?
Or why’ll she prefer to be known in the environ as a hog?
Is it not just for one thing?
They choose to sell their body?
Why will a schooler choose to become a drop-out with no good passion?
But he’s trying to boycott hardships and hardwork
He’ll just join the bad gang
And will receive money off stealing from the innocent man
He’ll swerve off money from the fleeceable parents
And to all their good, he’ll put an end
He’s not ********
He just wants the wealth; in anyway it comes and at whatsoever cost, he cares less!
Blame it on the money,
What is ours is now owning us,
And we still show no remorse,
As even today, some of your sons and daughters are still singing this MONEY SONG!
©Emmiasky Ojex
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
The countenance of her throne
epitomizes the state of her soul,
and this countenance I shall describe
but only to who may tolerate the details
of its most uncanny existence.
A clique of stallions
gallop about in a nauseating blur,
their red eyes glowering under
the amber light descending from
an ominous sliver of moon,
its mere presence prompting on
the inversion of the stars
and the curled screeches of
the morbid beasts
whose fur hangs darker than
the trembling eye of Hell.
Atop one lacerated saddle
rides Her Majesty--
The Queen of the Circus,
deranged like the specimen
she keeps in her company.
And,
with every cacophonic rise
of the carousel,
she howls,
her ******** cries as primal as
the stallions' untamed whinnies.
She bites her lip until
she can taste blood
(and ***
throws her hands to her temples
in ****** wistfulness--
pale limbs encompass teased hair
where decomposing acorns
(rotten kisses)
and bouquets of Nightshade
reside amongst the tangle
of Medusa-Esque curls,
amongst large, brown eyes
that sparkle gold under
the cursed heavens
which have been simultaneously
pleasured and scandalized
by the sight of her bare *******
clinging to sheer leotard,
by the sight of her body swaying
round the rusted poles that
have sunk themselves into the horses' skulls
like a ring sinks round
a glass bottle
or a lover's finger.
Of course, Her Royal Darkness
is more than just a Circus Queen.
She, indeed, entertains
a grand variety of morbid hobbies;
She is a Fire Eater
{spitters are quitters};
Grave Digger
{she dances the Charleston atop
treasure chests of bones and
bones with carnival mobsters};
Crystal Ball Prodigy
{reading palm | l|i|n|e|s | like
p
o
e
t
r
y};
Ring Mistress
**** or ****
purr or bite--
what shall it be?};
Acrobat
{knees perched above shoulders,
a man's mouth between her legs};
Ventriloquist
{"I'll steal your breath away, darling."}
Why yes!
She is a Jaqueline of all trades.
"Pick a card! Any Card! ..."
"Is this your card? ..."
A heart is drawn,
cleaved between her teeth,
each pulse of vein
a magnificent drum beat
against her tongue.
With the blood of her prey--
juices as thickly sweet
as candy floss--
she marks her territory,
parades her ****
a pink handprint
smeared across the hide
of each stallion.
"What dizzying artistry...
how lovely--
how...insane,"
she laughs,
each high pitched giggle
a homage to the maddening musings
of her soul
(and her throne.)
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
Placing my life on a bet
I lay on a motel bed
With heart pounding
And long loud emotional howling
That screams at the ****** inside me.
All throughout the act
I remain ‘inert’
While that pervert!
Gags and squirt.
Forcibly moaning
So as to earn a loaf of bread
for a family whose chieftain is dead.
This is the reason why I lay on bed.
Despite all this they make me culpable
Knowing very well with this I am feeding incapable.
If this is the law then answer me whether in true sense it is justifiable?
My only cry is my body has been taken for far too long
Does anybody want to take my heart along?
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC
Some men make me worry
Degrading treatment towards women seems to be ok
On their behalf I would like to say sorry
This kind of bahaviour needs to stop today
As a guy it sickens me
The sheer amount of disrespect
Rating women, calling them a lousy three
Something in your head must be defect
The other day I heard a colleague say
Don't worry about their names
I'm saving them by the codes
Each letter leading me on different roads
"S" means hot, "X" is for a one time use
I was aghast, no I was shocked
In my opinion this is resembling abuse
After that further chat had to be blocked
A dark day for a believer of human dignity
No human should be reduced to an object
Fellow men, stand up when facing this immorality
This is a wrong we need to correct
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
A handful of dust, immortality
A portrait to age, immorality
A hungry lust doth consume, apathy
A conscience driven mad, insanity
Narcissistic soul buried, casualty
The capturing of youth, causality
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 9:01 AM UTC
You’ve done so much
That is in no way right.
It makes us all wonder
How do you sleep at night?
The party of Abe Lincoln?
Not really so very much.
With his kind of leadership
You completely lost touch.
With malice toward none
And with liberty for all
Doesn’t match well with
Your current plans at all.
Right now you look at us
Your regular constituents
As unworthy of your notice
Or any serious commitment.
You’ve aimed your entire effort
At making the rich richer
And very little nectar for us
Pours from your national pitcher.
You prefer we starve and suffer
So Congressmen can get wealthy,
And rich corporations as well
Which is almost twice as stealthy.
So what happened to the vows
You took as the Oath of Office?
Where did you promise to make
A vast king’s ransom off us?
When did it say “Now I promise
To ***** the meek and poor,”?
To me, that is not what we
Elected your crooked *** for.
Why can’t you do your job
Seeing to the common weal
And stop trying to treat us
As if we were something unreal;
Things that get in your way
On your rise to immortality?
Please read the Bible you tout
And learn about immorality.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
I have reached the end
I am at last triumphant
I am pedigree of pious desire and knowledge eternally sacred
I have welcomed the pilgrims
I have guided their yearning will
To the celestial comforts of feathers’ yellows and sanctity’s whites
Whites white as my waving robe and now my thin white gown
In which I await my appointed time
My tongue is wriggling
Circling across my gums
In sensuous reveling of my life’s most blessed and greatest times
For I have laid eyes upon the glory of life’s highest gifts
For I have laid hands upon the most succulent succubus fertile hips
And I have supped of hymen’s glisten
I swam in Bacchus’s wines
I have recited doctrines of worship
I worshipped saliva’s shine
And I have observed communion
I drank it with ***** dust
I have read the hatha yoga
**** as the first man forged
And I have anointed blossoming ******* beneath the holy sigil
Sputtering laughter
Only trottel bows in truth and believes I dispense
A cleansing and redeeming eternal salvation
Have you no eyes to see my body’s common human shape?
Do you think I’m fat from God’s great love?
I cackle in the presence of such unwieldy weakness
Although my bones are sagging
More sagging is my wrinkled brain!
My memories are mating and birthing strange chimerical forms
They’re flooding and blending
Into vivid dreamlike collage
I see the faces of children I’ve taught
Atop necks of ****** I’ve known
The cheap locations of ****** have grafted with the echoing halls of cathedrals
Bizarre lights of nightclub glow are dancing upon spiritual texts
I hear an angelic litany
Sung through a stripper’s lips
I feel sheep’s wool
In the tousled hair of my boyish youth
I taste sweat in the bread of religion’s stoic privation
My air is growing more ragged
With every pitiful inhale I take
I feel light although I still see my heavy gluttonous flesh
My spirit is peeling away
Beyond my body’s earth
Arising high above from mortality’s curse
I am ascending into the holy realm
A realm with gates inviting
Like opened lotioned legs
I can see my own corpse
Surrounded by genuine reverence
They don’t even notice the shot glass
Still clutched in my pasty fist
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
I can't stand to become that person again.
I can be strong as long as I keep this blade close to my skin.
Locking away each deep little thought.
Accidentally remembering the ones I forgot.
The darkness is a consuming the very essence of my mind.
Searching for the light, but I'm becoming more blind.
Coming to terms with who I crave to become.
Stripping away any remaining innocence, immorality impossible to overcome.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
How do you sleep at night?
Why aren’t you ashamed
After all your ***** tricks
And you lying cheating games?
Something is wrong with you
That you have no remorse.
Sin and crime call out to you
And you respond “Of course!”
Were you that kind of kid
That cheated playing of cards?
Did you find not copying
From other students hard?
And presents wrapped at holidays
Did you always have to peek?
Do shortcuts to being rich
Describe the path you seek?
Does the end always end
By justifying means?
Do you steal if and when
The act is never seen?
Is there nothing wrong
With living a life of lies?
Does the drive to win
Let you ***** the other guys?
Is there no basis inside
That thing you call your soul
That could be called decency
That governs your goals?
Or are you that kind of thing
Our parents warned us of;
A creature devoid of kindness
Compassion, and love?
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Listen to the drops
Tiny voices in my dreams
Casting doubt in memories
of my subconscious mind
What do they say?
I hear the screams
Slipped in a straight jacket
of life's immorality
But I am not alone
My tiny voices keep me company
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
What is a sin?
An immoral act?
To lie, is a position where I have been
Lying being tempting is not only a statement but a fact
It is a daily struggle to resist
It is my job to beat the temptation
Before an unfortunate event preexist
I most make the right decision
"but oh darling I can't take all that pressure"
but why?
"I have to find a way to get my own pleasure"
is innocence just a lie?
" Yes we're sinners you and I"
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
It's been a time and a half
And I finally understand
The reason you've gone
With the shaman so long.
The spirit is free.
I'm a color
Splintered in three.
Crystalline
Crystal eyes
Well spoken with diction.
Many a words I've spoken
Have been in ode
Romancing you with every breath
In the desert
The door is ajar
We trace the steps of Aztec gods
1/3 becomes 2/4
The sands gleam emerald
Our bodies elongate to equine form
We blended the horizon line
Quetzalcoatl stands before me
Serpent in feathers
Glows like the spectrum all together.
He hands me a seed.
And his
Eyes smother like lightning.
And I
Speak in codexed volition.
And we
Blur the horizon line once more.
I stand on the Pacific
20,000 leagues
Equine force
Carries me to the beach.
Sand once more.
I feel a twitch in my jaw.
Each hand holds a mandible
And pulls.
Roots emerge
And a tree not soon after.
Is this what the seed was for?
I trot the beach,
Jaw no longer in tact.
My pallor flesh caked in coagulate
Almost recreates my tan skin
A gift from the god.
I've been on this beach for miles,
And
Miles
And
Two whiles.
My architecture meanders
The brevity of sanity.
One eye sees black,
The other sees fine.
My hair has become matted
It knots behind each earlobe
And drags on below my knees.
Is this what Quetzalcoatl wanted?
To see me sifted with the grains of sand
In the palm of a child's hand
At the beach
While on vacation
With mom and dad?
20,000 years have passed.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC