#sade - Hello Poetry

The likes of you I can't describe, Yet I love to eat between your thighs. The melody you spake to me Unfolds my greatest sovereignty. I crave to quaff all of your spit, And swallow every drop of it. Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh, Those bare and supple ****** ******* Your eyes that follow my firm gaze, While we kiss and lick and misbehave. I need to feel each piece of skin, Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again. It's such a treat to eat you whole; I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.

0

May 8, 2014

May 8, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC

martin-narrod

Nineteen

The likes of you I can't describe, Yet I love to eat between your thighs. The melody you spake to me Unfolds my greatest sovereignty. I crave to quaff all of your spit, And swallow every drop of it. Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh, Those bare and supple ****** ******* Your eyes that follow my firm gaze, While we kiss and lick and misbehave. I need to feel each piece of skin, Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again. It's such a treat to eat you whole; I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.

14

ｐｌｅａｓｕｒｅａｓｐａｉｎ he told his partners unwitting souls commanded by his physical beauty strong self assured manner unwillingness 2 accept anything but compliance acquiescence compelling in his self assurance many were led into his lair gullible some to escape never the being they’d been some attempting to flee flogged into further submission and eternal darkness pleasure as pain he told them the once innocents © 2017 rf

0

Apr 1, 2019

Apr 1, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC

rochellefoles

the marquis

ｐｌｅａｓｕｒｅａｓｐａｉｎ he told his partners unwitting souls commanded by his physical beauty strong self assured manner unwillingness 2 accept anything but compliance acquiescence compelling in his self assurance many were led into his lair gullible some to escape never the being they’d been some attempting to flee flogged into further submission and eternal darkness pleasure as pain he told them the once innocents © 2017 rf

30

#5 | Heartbreak in Hatfield She’s wrapped up in white sheets and peaceful dreams. She gets head on most mornings before she gets out of bed. There’s love in her heart, milk in her cereal and honey in her tea. I want to hold her in my arms until she forgets what pain feels like. I want to be in her heart, on her mind, body and on her brown skin. Thick thighs, beautiful smile and brown eyes – she is my favourite sin. A wise lady once told me that heaven is found between a woman’s thighs. I want to hold her in my arms until she remembers what happiness feels like. Love may slip from her lips and drip down her chin but I never want our beautiful melody to become staccato. She has made me question if all the women I have been with before were worthy of my love, time and effort. She’s a representation of all the beautiful music Sade has created and she’s more than the sweetest taboo to me. On most days she makes me forget about being the king of sorrow when I eventually stop crying everyone’s tears. The traces of her lips on my skin reach deep inside my soul and transform an abandoned house into a loving home.

0

Jun 13, 2018

Jun 13, 2018 at 7:38 AM UTC

kaleidoscope-prhyme

Autumn Daze

#5 | Heartbreak in Hatfield She’s wrapped up in white sheets and peaceful dreams. She gets head on most mornings before she gets out of bed. There’s love in her heart, milk in her cereal and honey in her tea. I want to hold her in my arms until she forgets what pain feels like. I want to be in her heart, on her mind, body and on her brown skin. Thick thighs, beautiful smile and brown eyes – she is my favourite sin. A wise lady once told me that heaven is found between a woman’s thighs. I want to hold her in my arms until she remembers what happiness feels like. Love may slip from her lips and drip down her chin but I never want our beautiful melody to become staccato. She has made me question if all the women I have been with before were worthy of my love, time and effort. She’s a representation of all the beautiful music Sade has created and she’s more than the sweetest taboo to me. On most days she makes me forget about being the king of sorrow when I eventually stop crying everyone’s tears. The traces of her lips on my skin reach deep inside my soul and transform an abandoned house into a loving home.

14

You only seem to love me when im empty There must be something in that that makes you happy And ill never understand it. The first time I heard the king of sorrow by sade I felt like I had told her how I felt, took her hands to my chest and let her dig deep. And she wrote about me. There's a difference between writing for someone and about someone There are no trinkets, no hidden words. It's all bare. Like when you're making love to someone even though they're just trying to **** and you bare it all. Ive been meaning to write about you. Not for you. But ive placed you on a pedestal that wont allow me to.

0

Nov 26, 2015

Nov 26, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC

infiniteabyss

Does this make sense

You only seem to love me when im empty There must be something in that that makes you happy And ill never understand it. The first time I heard the king of sorrow by sade I felt like I had told her how I felt, took her hands to my chest and let her dig deep. And she wrote about me. There's a difference between writing for someone and about someone There are no trinkets, no hidden words. It's all bare. Like when you're making love to someone even though they're just trying to **** and you bare it all. Ive been meaning to write about you. Not for you. But ive placed you on a pedestal that wont allow me to.

12

An arc of embodiment Decadent perfumed petticoats swirled to order Power ****** from the sweat of the land Stone hewn from its very foundations A spider's web encloses the flowering art Phoenician helmeted raiders Roman taxing invaders Trespassing Gaulish voices Thumbed rosary transcenders The dawn of a walled resistance A Religious pandemic Storming Carcistes Razats rebel Friends denounce their own A castle evokes revolutionary fever Ghosts reverberate running the embattlements Proletarians open the walls Guardians red and blue White clergy take the souls Swords discarded, a tricolore soars Slaves to the chisel Open pits for Vulcan to dip his toes Gothic Cavernous quarried vaults in search of Sade’s demons Stone to shape Provencal style Dereliction a Maquis delight Refuging resistance and the persecuted Destruction and collapse Artisans and folk revive Paint brushes to the fore Transientents page the streets with blood red gold A coat of arms rings its bell Lowly hovels now adored Gaping holes swallow the light Sleepers enrichen the ground Too long a museum Stirring string notes Cherups embrace their calling Voices rouse the deities Banners furl in mistral breaths Spirits hightail Lacoste’s new allies Iced sun rises over Luberons range Warmth caresses the blood of day School children playing, wake the sleepy Warm stews vie with Pistou Hallowed vines are groomed Long walks with herbs to find Boars try and outwit their hunters Dogs smell the truffles afar Ventoux snows cool the view Cyclists roar through in celebration Village a transforming microcosm Artists absorb, evolving a creation Animate habitants living and the vogue A hearty cocooned culture emerging out into longer days luring the coming spring

0

Feb 8, 2021

Feb 8, 2021 at 9:51 AM UTC

kevin-wright-2

Lacoste in Winter

An arc of embodiment Decadent perfumed petticoats swirled to order Power ****** from the sweat of the land Stone hewn from its very foundations A spider's web encloses the flowering art Phoenician helmeted raiders Roman taxing invaders Trespassing Gaulish voices Thumbed rosary transcenders The dawn of a walled resistance A Religious pandemic Storming Carcistes Razats rebel Friends denounce their own A castle evokes revolutionary fever Ghosts reverberate running the embattlements Proletarians open the walls Guardians red and blue White clergy take the souls Swords discarded, a tricolore soars Slaves to the chisel Open pits for Vulcan to dip his toes Gothic Cavernous quarried vaults in search of Sade’s demons Stone to shape Provencal style Dereliction a Maquis delight Refuging resistance and the persecuted Destruction and collapse Artisans and folk revive Paint brushes to the fore Transientents page the streets with blood red gold A coat of arms rings its bell Lowly hovels now adored Gaping holes swallow the light Sleepers enrichen the ground Too long a museum Stirring string notes Cherups embrace their calling Voices rouse the deities Banners furl in mistral breaths Spirits hightail Lacoste’s new allies Iced sun rises over Luberons range Warmth caresses the blood of day School children playing, wake the sleepy Warm stews vie with Pistou Hallowed vines are groomed Long walks with herbs to find Boars try and outwit their hunters Dogs smell the truffles afar Ventoux snows cool the view Cyclists roar through in celebration Village a transforming microcosm Artists absorb, evolving a creation Animate habitants living and the vogue A hearty cocooned culture emerging out into longer days luring the coming spring

56

Before my soul had reach maturity I was told to never give a lover my heart Thus I never did, Instead I gave them my heart, my soul, and every fibre of my being For the one whom I fell in love with was no lover, but a soul a divine When they wanted the world I gave them the universe itself I do not regret my decision I have no remorse For their love and loyalty made it as easy as drawing breathe Like royalty they received without question For they have evolved beyond the definition of lover They are Nirvana

0

Jun 21, 2018

Jun 21, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC

99thkamikaze

No Ordinary Love

Before my soul had reach maturity I was told to never give a lover my heart Thus I never did, Instead I gave them my heart, my soul, and every fibre of my being For the one whom I fell in love with was no lover, but a soul a divine When they wanted the world I gave them the universe itself I do not regret my decision I have no remorse For their love and loyalty made it as easy as drawing breathe Like royalty they received without question For they have evolved beyond the definition of lover They are Nirvana

12

A living relic of medieval times Saturated in fabled charisma Restitched castle walls shimmer in the heat Art juices flow through the streets Words tumble along illustrated manuscripts Paint turns blank canvas blue Skies turn jubilant red with hints of refreshing showers Voluminous sculptures evoke a Cardin phase Student art invigorates tired walls Artisans rustle up market stalls Broad hats repel the sun Sauntering through vine lanes Grapes guzzling the photon rain Sleepy bees trail the sun loving flowers Painted toe nails coolly pool immersed Patchwork and crotched fields Yellow blocks of **** Lines of planted eggs Chokers of olive greens Grecian dresses draped with vines A folk festivity welcomes all All generations meet as one Donkey games for the children Piñata to strike blindfolded Watery cascade or sugary reward Golden melons bred of illicit taste Teased with smoked ham Devoured for sweetness Starter or desert just a joy Perfect alongside un verre de rosé frais Art flows in waves Easels swell with students pride Denizens welcoming hustling parades Musical rhythms caress their acclivity Spontaneously parties sprout in vogue Dappled courtyards Shaded from merciless sun rays Fresh coffee odours drifting through the broad sheets of La Provence Or a game of chess to challenge Sade's En passant Barbeque banquets sizzle amid ***** smoke Bergers march their merguez sausages from North Africa Mounted Templar knights attired in crowns of Lamb cutlets cry Bandits torture skewered meat and pepper on their swords Ice cream de 'Nicolas Perrault du Tinel' soothes the battled throats Majestic butterflies flutter below Glorious hunting eagles above Arching swifts betwixt Precarious lizards stalk on walls Wood worm beetles feign a paparazzi pose Vistas of amour grow the population Craggy medieval outlines saturate the historians Valleys of birth speak to the hikers Cyclists infatuated with curvaceous plunges Outdoor cinema merges into the panorama Expectant visitors climb up to the chateau Disenchanted not a soupçon of the marquis Musical interludes from the bowels of Sades earth Nightly cricket orchestras liberating ****** fantasies Absorbing dark energy radiated by ****** constellations Balmy evenings Bats cleaning the air Evening strolls arm in arm Enchanted aromatic honeysuckle Scented candles settle the ambiance Salsa styled dancing for all Legs and arms intertwined Hot sweats and eyes aroused The accordian sways in time Necks laid bare A distant majestic phantom liner lit by street lights Docked in Bonnieux lingers for all to sleep The moon rises over the masted ensign Ups anchor and floats into the black abyss Lighting the way for Provencal dreamers

0

Apr 17, 2021

Apr 17, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC

kevin-wright-2

Lacoste in Summer

A living relic of medieval times Saturated in fabled charisma Restitched castle walls shimmer in the heat Art juices flow through the streets Words tumble along illustrated manuscripts Paint turns blank canvas blue Skies turn jubilant red with hints of refreshing showers Voluminous sculptures evoke a Cardin phase Student art invigorates tired walls Artisans rustle up market stalls Broad hats repel the sun Sauntering through vine lanes Grapes guzzling the photon rain Sleepy bees trail the sun loving flowers Painted toe nails coolly pool immersed Patchwork and crotched fields Yellow blocks of **** Lines of planted eggs Chokers of olive greens Grecian dresses draped with vines A folk festivity welcomes all All generations meet as one Donkey games for the children Piñata to strike blindfolded Watery cascade or sugary reward Golden melons bred of illicit taste Teased with smoked ham Devoured for sweetness Starter or desert just a joy Perfect alongside un verre de rosé frais Art flows in waves Easels swell with students pride Denizens welcoming hustling parades Musical rhythms caress their acclivity Spontaneously parties sprout in vogue Dappled courtyards Shaded from merciless sun rays Fresh coffee odours drifting through the broad sheets of La Provence Or a game of chess to challenge Sade's En passant Barbeque banquets sizzle amid ***** smoke Bergers march their merguez sausages from North Africa Mounted Templar knights attired in crowns of Lamb cutlets cry Bandits torture skewered meat and pepper on their swords Ice cream de 'Nicolas Perrault du Tinel' soothes the battled throats Majestic butterflies flutter below Glorious hunting eagles above Arching swifts betwixt Precarious lizards stalk on walls Wood worm beetles feign a paparazzi pose Vistas of amour grow the population Craggy medieval outlines saturate the historians Valleys of birth speak to the hikers Cyclists infatuated with curvaceous plunges Outdoor cinema merges into the panorama Expectant visitors climb up to the chateau Disenchanted not a soupçon of the marquis Musical interludes from the bowels of Sades earth Nightly cricket orchestras liberating ****** fantasies Absorbing dark energy radiated by ****** constellations Balmy evenings Bats cleaning the air Evening strolls arm in arm Enchanted aromatic honeysuckle Scented candles settle the ambiance Salsa styled dancing for all Legs and arms intertwined Hot sweats and eyes aroused The accordian sways in time Necks laid bare A distant majestic phantom liner lit by street lights Docked in Bonnieux lingers for all to sleep The moon rises over the masted ensign Ups anchor and floats into the black abyss Lighting the way for Provencal dreamers

75

0

Jun 14, 2025

Jun 14, 2025 at 8:15 PM UTC

benjamim

APRISIONADO PELA HERANÇA

0

slushy sidewalks memories of the past bubble up never had enough my brain craves your delicate touch trace my spine count my heartbeats take your time need your body heat slushy sidewalks Sade plays softly your cologne is intoxicating my body is so disturbed i cannot handle the constant waiting my body is reserved

0

Dec 17, 2025

Dec 17, 2025 at 10:49 AM UTC

munybee

Slushy Sidewalks

slushy sidewalks memories of the past bubble up never had enough my brain craves your delicate touch trace my spine count my heartbeats take your time need your body heat slushy sidewalks Sade plays softly your cologne is intoxicating my body is so disturbed i cannot handle the constant waiting my body is reserved

14