#lamour
sous le ciel de paris, un mur disait
"Je t’aime comme un soir d’été"
mais c'était en décembre
et il pleuvait toute la journée
malgré le temps, un feu brûlait
au retour de « la butte aux cailles »
dans mon vieux cœur d'âme
comme celuie de Notre-Dame
sur le chemin du Sacré-Cœur, vers chez lui
mon feu s’est enflammé avec ses lèvres, tout éblouie
pendant que Chet Baker chantait, douce mélodie
j'ai peur, je tombe sûrement amoureuse trop vite
et si demain, tout disparaît?
un souvenir que je ne veux jamais perdre
"Je t’aime comme un soir d’été," disait le mur
mais moi, je t'aimerai comme une soirée d'éternité
Dec 24, 2024
Dec 24, 2024 at 6:14 AM UTC
quel est
belle en moi
et ce que je laisse
en moi
c'est toujours
peu importe comment
tu as essayé de me faire
se sentir dur à aimer
il y a tous ces beaux
et des choses tendres en moi ...
t o u j o u r s
Jul 22, 2020
Jul 22, 2020 at 8:20 PM UTC
My real mother,
her name is Angela
She invests her heart and soul into
a child that she did not birth.
She loves, has a selfless sacrifice for someone else's kid in all of her,
while ignoring her own comfort.
She could never replace my biological mother,
but every child needs her mother
and nothing can change how much
I love her
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 2:17 AM UTC
tu étais toi et j'étais moi
nous étions deux avant notre temps
J'étais à toi avant de savoir
et tu as toujours été à moi aussi
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 2:10 PM UTC
Il était un rêve , with too many wishes .
Was going down the road slowly until i couldnt see it or feel it .
Ba ouais is gone now im affraid to follow it again
Seems beautiful from a distance but when i get close i dont want it anymore . Im affraid yes that i go down the road again then i dont see it or with the expectation to feel it .
How long will take i dont know . In the moment i see no chance .
The calmness the silence i try to hookup with .
Its me back again je ne sais plus quoi faire .
Ba ouais il était un jour une fois
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 12:09 AM UTC
The tenderness on your body isn't forever.
But for 16, a curled frown of a fiddled head
fern and forests
just wasted by the sun, your traveled generous thighs
in which we've become to tie boundlessly by.
The innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found
there by what all came from;
i'd advise as in the present, I lived in satiation
by the way she lit up candles,
and held my body like warmth
and my heart like glass in this home.
no wonder why our ribs are cages for the heart,
except mines managed to escape and loved so much with the heart
so it consumed me, and she consumed my all I can offer.
"you are way too loving for this world"
soon, your touch on me, firmness, protectiveness, and love
held onto me, searching me out of your tongue, and slender fingers
reaching for mines,
so whatever happens, I pray it will be with you.
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC
J’aime les filles.
Ils sont merveilleuses.
Tous les filles sont jolies,
Mais vous savez quand vous trouvez cette fille parfait,
La fille qui allume la salle avec son sourire
Et qui vous laisse à bout de souffle?
Quand vous de céder à cette lumière
C’est comme elle vous a éclairé de l'intérieur et le monde vous donne la clé du bonheur.
Alors, si c’est la première fois,
La deuxième fois,
La centième fois,
Ne verrouillez-pas vous dans l'obscurité.
Lumière-vous, jusqu'à ce que vous brillez.
Permettez-vous prélasser dans la lumière parce que,
Ma jeune fille,
Vous aimez les filles aussi.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
mes larmes piquent mes lèvres,
la douleur m'accable, tout
d'un coup, je suis mort.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
You know as well as I do
that internet dating can have its ups
and downs
and thus, after so many futile meetings
and tragic misadventures
in a domestic UK situation,
I decided to spread my wings
and so I logged on to an Australian website
for lonely kangaroo lovers
yes it was www.blackstump-legover.com.au
where no holes were barred.
And I soon struck up a promising friendship
with someone who sounded like
a real goer, a total slapper,
with no morals whatsover
judging from the photo she posted
taken with a mobile phone
up her skirt
which showed her **muffin *****
as well as what she had eaten
for breakfast yesterday,
poking its head out.
We finally agreed to meet
behind the old dunny
in the park where the abos go
to exchange their social security vouchers
for crack *******
or a bottle of Castlemain XXXX
or a quick one up each others' bots
in spite of the pong
on a sunny arvo.
You can imagine how effing disappointed
I was when she arrived
on a trailer attached to her grandson's ute
strapped to a battered gurney
(and almost insensate)
but still ready for a bit of backdoor action
but not from me, no sirree,
thank you very much mate:
I might be desperate, but
I would have had to have
clipped my nose shut with a clothes peg
to get anywhere near her
and my gag reflex simply couldn't cope.
So I bravely dragged the gurney
over to the convenient gap
in the fence overlooking the mighty ravine
and with a gentle shove
I sent her to that sweet place
where peace can be found
and I can still hear her scream
as she bounced off the rocks
accusing me of being illegitimate
before silence reigned
and I smiled in joy.
It only goes to show, O my friends,
that there are female dogs
of the most hideous kind
on every sodding continent
on this dear planet of ours;
and I may as well stick to
a handful of Nivea cream
and a Kleenex, at least the odour
is wholesome.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
*A Tale of ****** Excitement by Herr Barty Maulwurf*
Often **** tales of my past I am writing and sometimes they are a little rude and porny but now I will try to be only slightly profane at request of new friends I am making everywhere. This tale very sensual story is, told by master storyteller (which is me). Filthy bits included. Danke sehr.
Although I so much hate repetitive to be, Barty Mole must as always apologise for his occasionally slight errors in English-writing as he writes the English language not so very top-class (but he ***** English girls' tongues lots and likes them his tonsils to wipe so good). I (me, Barty) am German person but special type of that because as I are half-and-half black/white (not striped or even top half white, bottom half black, but mixed-up goldene-brun colouring), by this I must explain mein Papa was black US soldier in Germany who did enormous number of bouncy-bouncies with various ladies including meine Mutti (note to monoglots: this means my Mummy) - who was part-time Lili Marlen type tarty number, great **** and much-used **** - for tinned milk, coffee, ciggies, silk stockings and comfy underwear with soft non-scratchy gussets for once instead of unlined which tickle pussy-flaps, also she was a major sort of a ****** in her day so combined business with pleasure, and why not, we got these bits under our ******* so use them or they dry up (so thinks der Barty.). Also please you will remember black market utterly rampant in post-war period because the kind ****** Allies smashed my beautiful homeland (Germany) to little bits and then guess what even worse Russkies came and stole anything leftovers and did mass rapings of anyone with two legs (or less, in fact easier as poor tarts can't run away), but my Mutti ran and avoided Ivans, she not any kind of idiot, not going to give it away for free, and not liking cheap rotgut ***** anyway. Also Russkies never wash bottoms-hole so not much fun in the sack with smelly-bummed Ivans.
Nowadays Barty (that's me) am not so young, indeed now out of work living in Hamburg (home of inventor of hamburgers, Herr Wendi McDonald-Burgerkoenig) but I remember some super **** going-ons from mine mis-spended youth and middle age, my God I was a right goer, make no mistake about that, I had more lady friends than most people have hot luncheons mainly because I inheritated huge lovepole (23 centimetres, well over 9 inches in UK/US measurement style) from my dear Poppa, God rest his swindling soul. And ladies like the big bronzed stick as ramrod lovepole, you bet your fat wobbly *** dear reader, 100% sure.
As often I say to my multitudinous readers, I never accept that it is only top-class sex-event to make love-humpings between male person who is in all one piece (full complementing legs, arms, naughty pieces etc etc) and lady who in similar state of repair (2 legs, 2 arms, 2 boobos, back and front naughty areas also) so I shall now recall romantic interlude with one-legged groupie I am meeting at rocking Konzert in Berlin with famous German group DIE TOTEN HOSEN (this means "The Dead Trousers" look them up on Google you think I am joking? no, German musicians have great sense of humour and also almost for free get to **** a lot of birds).
This story are total true, swear it on Mummy's honour (big joke, what honour I hear you said out of side of mouth, but watch your manners please or I smash you one in your effing gob) this not so explicit as usual so much apologies to filthy pervies wanting cheap smuttings, you come in wrong place **** you).
So now here we go with telling of how I got on good and ***** with one-legged lady I meet in bar of Grosse Konzerthalle in Berlin after we go from Konzert by Toten Hosen - noise so fickende loud we not able to hear each other talk as we total deafened for at least 1 hour, so just wink over bar to each other and Robert is dein Onkel.
I digressed - when I saw really pretty girl at bar with **** three-inch bolt through her lips and I think, WOW, if she got so much metal in her face, what the Fick she got in her ******* I notice she leaning against wall, I think she a bit drunk but I find out she only got one leg and it's because she has only one leg she would go falling over if not lean on walls. Never mind, I think to myself, I'll try this out for size, in for a pfenning (penny), in for a pfund (pound), except now it's in for a cent, in for a euro which sounds naffs. So we have several dozen beers and a couple of schnapplis and she is good fun, laugh at all Barty's filthy jokes and innuendos and then, out of blue, she says with naughty giggling, *"The night is young but we're not so effing young and when you have any more beers you don't stand up, fall flat on handsome face, and not able to get great big ****** up me to shove it"*, WOW I thought, this is some forward one-legged piece of work. So no more further ado and we jump in taxi (pay 50:50 as Barty is gent and refuse to allow her pay whole fare) and go to her place.
Hildegard is her name and she was pretty good looking bird, great booboes, narrow very **** waistlines, very cute botty sticking out like great big pair of rubber footballs, but let's be frank, liebe Freunde, her main claim to eternal fame in Barty's immense sex-memory bank was the leg-stump, only one of them she had. She tells me missing limb result of accident with vicious bacon-slicing machineries at LIDL and I not like to probe too deeply, because I leave the probing up to my 23cm (9 inch) lovepole instead.
Thus we had many love-makes that night and I got to find her stumpy-thing quite **** in weird kind of way, very smooth skin on it and odd colour (purplish) too. Only problem of was hard to do it Alsatian-style as she topple off bed and me with her, especially since we have many more beers down hatches by that time. Never mind, make up for this with very high class (FIVE STAR!) "neunundsechzig" (German for 69 just in case you not understand)! WOW she utter hot stuff in oral department store. Her tongue like starving St Bernard guzzling the bowl of nice fresh spring water on hottest summer day in century! Swallow everything, stray hairs and all.
Also Hildegard very noisy lady when she does the comings, which Barty likes very much indeed. Like demented demon being bashed around her head with three-metre long metal crowbar every single time she gets one off, she screamed. "Ooooooh, ich komme, ich komme, ach, ja, ja, ja, ja," she shrieks GOOD & LOUD like fat Wagnerian heroine with immensely red hot poker up backside-hole (which not far off the truth when Barty gets stuck into his fabbo sex-rhythm, like whirring up and down piston on Mitsubishi motor tricycle). Even allowing for drunken prematured senilities lapse, I happy to recall seven times for me that night and maybe twenty for her, WOW, what a filthy one-leg hornbag!
We meet a few more time for repeat bonky session but never so good as first time round, but that's because Barty sober next times, nothing new in the history of love there which is very philophical pensée. Also Barty's interest in the leggy-stump waned a bit after a couple of weeks. But Barty has good live-action photos to keep his memories warm, WOW, they are some totally hot ones! I know Hildegard must have the equal happy memories of old Barty, bet she never saw such a big ***** as his ever again (NB: 23 cm lovepole)!
Mit freundlichen Gruessen
von Ihre
Bartholomew Mole (=Maulwurf)
(23 cm brown lovepole)
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
pour chaque "je t'aime" dit
il existe cent plus qu'on dit
seulement par les yeux
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
There's a really thin line between our bodies.
If you know it's real, then everything will be blank.
If you don't believe in that thin line, then everything becomes real.
Dance with me tonight, I'll show you how it was everything made.
Loneliness is a keyword to a broken heart.
If you are lonely, open it.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
We reach our limits so fast
Crawl under your arms, it's the last
We can't go back again, to hide
How our souls, the beauty, they divide
You were so fragile and pale,
the sweet porcelain doll of my pain.
Killing all the stars one by one
Until the night-sky cried forever gone
As the leaf turns death-blue
You say I wish I didn't miss you
So come home until it's fall
Carve your name into my naked wall.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC