"areolas" poems
a black bat
hangs upside down
digesting a fly
his face almost human
a flying Frankenstein
he excretes
puddles of guano
like miniature buttered popcorn
a dark and wavy goulash
gods gift
to beetles and worms
dizzied overheated men look on
to an uproarious variety hour
of song and a high heeled kicks
inspiring
a tempest of throbbing
whisky drenched
folded ***** and cash
trouser trout fish,
undulant
sexed up
tape worms for love
pulse the night
egging on bunny **** pom poms
devout finger puppets of Eros
for
shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos
sequined tassel spinning areolas
and lavish come **** me dance girls
bring down the house in flames
making hearts apostate
clamoring
and melt men like steaming everglades
the bat
hangs from the chandelier
licks his black lips
and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics
hearing music
a thunderous nonsense
witnessing visions
of
flies, tasty white winged moths
and the thrill of screams
while biting the head off of another bat
in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
when i want inspiration to write poetry
i watch a heaving tempest of kisses
they have a better flavor
than cooking shows
what's prettier than pretty pretty
in pigtails
shaking her delicious
derriere whipped Soufflé?
i'm kissing butter princess
witchy ****
spread lickity splits
eating her
with a big wide **** eating grin
like an open face dagwood
whats more poetic than that hopeful glaring
of
Adonis's plumper in paradise
filling Cleopatra's slathered meringue?
ga-ga-ga-gag me, daddy
merciless, pa-leazze
fluttered big wet talking eyes
like pools of blue honey
getting it zigged zagged
hard against a redraw mouth
throttling fluted gullet
while eager throat gasps
a symphonic music of the spheres
in relentless staccato chokes
lovin her big devil **** splashing
all gym built wonder-boy
a litter of ****** and tongues
licking pig greedy
rapturous milkshake waterfalls
whimpering
mmmmmm
oooh big daddy
oh my ****** god
pillar of colossus
you Tunisian donut you
pierce me like a spoon
through summer guava
who screams like that eating lunch
but a half ate apricot?
better than a football game
I'd rather take her greek
more fun than math or small talk
preferable to a pat on the back at work
or a ridged procession at a funeral
oh beautiful dark fig
squatting crotch candy
bubbling tapioca ***
queen of
spun sugar ****
all pyrotechnics
and fluttering sinews
if you asked most
do they watch ****
they'd grow smug like a senator
or punch you in the mouth
outwardly high-minded
refusing the blessing of a
video **** parade
of pirouetting vaginas
and glistening areolas
for the glory
of the secret ************ ceremony
the *** moralists
only good for a secret ******
living their lives
with passions submerged
and nothing to confess
except for guilty offerings
as they wander through dreamland shopping malls
wanting to know
Victorias ***** little secret
seduced
but not caressed
by
a mouthpiece for castrated dreams
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Voluptuous curves of spiral galaxy,
Ring nebula's exposed areolas;
Hubble, companero of space ******
*give me bliss, more cosmic ****
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 9:45 PM UTC
your pale smooth skin
slides under me
as we are more sweat
than bone
i suckle
your pink taut areolas
you clutch my hair
and my fingers spread
everywhere
you close your eyes
bite down your lips
shudder slightly
gasp
a low heavy breath
and it’s like
some shade in an inferno
opened a cobwebbed window
from the blackest molten bowels
to release the compressed
stagnate humid air
from your deepest self.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Escape
My belly emerges above the ripple in the water
While the rainbow hue of small delicate bubbles pop the moment they make contact with my skin
Exposed the goose bumps grow around my areolas
I think of the small toes
Bumping, tickling the inside of me
While a heart beat
Moves rhythmically with me
How the butterflies sing me to sleep when
Her eyes glow
A burdening row of uncontrollable
Addicting
Protection
I watch as his fingers trace the porcelain
The water cascades in
Roaring, boiling
My lips purse together
While the steam
Emerges from the ends of the mug
Water dripping down my shoulders
Pooling at the ends of my hair
Breathing deeply
Embody
Eternity
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 11:16 PM UTC
my tongue is a tap dancer
clicking its heels on your milk dud areolas
up
down
side
to
side
you jump on me
like a black friday bargain
my hands squeeze your backside like oranges
I feel your juices
and enter the slip ‘n slide
with no swim trunks
we tango with lace intact
there’s a reason
why lingerie contains “linger”
it resonates
the liminal space between
conservative and risqué
is appeeling/stemulating
the trailer’s tease
often surpasses
the film itself
funny
how baby oil is used in adult situations
losing my grip
on your hips
but
there is something else
connecting us
even when
this something slides out
still
there is something else
connecting us
i spill dairy creamer
on your cappuccino complexion
splash
we don’t say anything
at first
just exhales
but we’re thinking
“awwwww yeaaaaaaa”
we fall back on a cloud
naked
like the truth riding a schwinn through the castro
your ear is to my chest now
you bust a freestyle over my heartbeat
with halfway-incoherent post-sex talk
i’ve never told you this
but this
is my favorite moment
when we are free from everything
and free from nothing
for a brief period of time
the adam and eve
of our own world
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
I was goofy in love,
That sort of sarcastic your ugly but I need you type of love.
That lounge around in underwear all day not afraid to be myself love.
In all seriousness, I wore nothing but her.
Smothering my nose in her hair. More commonly a set of areolas.
She was a character, sometimes rambling through my t-shirts.
Sliding her arms through loose hanging sleeves.
Pushing all of her hair to one side of her head, making silly faces.
Actually quite a scary thing to see, At that moment I prayed to God thanking him that she had a full head of hair. Although admitting that her left eye looking at the right one was kind of **** Especially with her tongue cocked to the side.
A smile ofter kept me out of trouble.
Although admittedly I'd avoid certain questions,
She was that big head pretty girl whom believed she was always right, even when she was wrong.
I loved telling her no.
Even when I meant yes. The first time was an accident. The next twelve hundred just became habit.
The concept really wasn't as vague as it sounds.
Honestly, I am a good guy.
I just loved dancing on her nerves from time to time.
The crinkles that formed around her nose as she turned red.
Especially in public, I'd always tell the cashier or waitress that she was abusive.
Often locking me in the closet.
That I was her *** slave and this would be the only time she'd let me leave the house. That she held me hostage, to only refer to her as mistress when we're out and about.
Either that or I'd push her on random isles of a store and yell shoplifter.
It was always something crazy with us.
Grabbing a foam sword and constantly poke her in the *** until ultimately she'd just stop walking.
Other women felt her pain.
Laughing before revealing intriguing conversations about their men and how they would always leave them at home.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
I would want you to have these machines
breathe for me if I forgot your name
and spill memories back into the blank spaces
from which you ebb and flow, going home –
because it could not have been I who
destroyed the person that I require so close.
In every language, I love you
and te amo
and je t’aime and
ich liebe dich and jag älskar dig and miluji tě:
let your city flood my insides, then bleed.
If I could, I would shout from the moon
to make sure the other men know I love you
and though they are beautiful,
their names do not matter nearly as much
to my brain, nor bring goosebumps to
the small of my back and top of my bottom.
My ******* fill your shirts just right –
they do, they do.
I am meant to be inside them
and you are meant to be within me, like air
******* from a windpipe to areolas’ pink.
I would throw my head forward like I do
when I am sad and settle in your lap
entombing my five senses in an aroma of love
we just made. I would lay myself in that
coffin again and again until I recalled
the exact elocution I used to form your name.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
Are area
Rough
External
Outsider
Leaks
And
Secretes
Can you **** some up
Off my surface skin
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 8:46 PM UTC
Worry me not because of hazel eyes
Pity me not for transient hands, a transient romance
Pity those who live with a million backs,
Thinking as though they have selection
Merely selections, selections A plethora
No one wants, no one, mark my words
Genuinely wants to **** a ***** ball sack
Whimsical and flying, a absent look across your pasty face
Intrusive eyes tracing, your snotty nose across that silly face
That silly face you make, lazy used *****
Exercise a little more, won't you?
You're the one who believes he has an ocean
No ocean, no
A little cradle of girls with crumpled hearts
and slits on their embalmed pasties.
I'm disgusted, disgusted, disgusted by these sweaty ball sacks
Arrogance in their snorts, farts and living as though they can be
they can be disgusting, nauseating, revoltingly HUMAN
While I must adorn a satin sleek smile
Hairless ivory and flowery areolas
The ice cool temper of no wavering, no moving forward
Why must I be polished and pretty
Why must I put my soft palate against your sweaty naked jockstrap
Why must I let you crush my skull with your meaty, hairy presence
Choking my throat with disgusting salami of 18 years too late
Am I expected to smile and compliment you for this catastrophe?
No, worry me not that Hazel eyes no longer trace me
Pity me Not that I do not have meaty hands torturing my skull
Feel my liberation in your cold sock of cries.
**** **** **** you!
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
Areolas rise
It is no surprise
She will not acknowledge
Oh this I have to demolish
Normally I feel numb
But she hits my inner drum
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
O naked breast, what do you have with me?
You're a picture taken from another camera see.
Though your smooth skin entices.
Though your areolas are a museum of love.
Though your hair is long,
Though your eyes are wide.
Though your vaginal lips hide a salty sea.
Though I mistake my sweaty smell for thee.
You cannot have me.
When will my lover stop showing me her image?
I just want to explore reality.
Why reality so sensual?
Why not matter-of-factual?
Why not in layers of languages unknown?
Instead, so macrocosmically.
Why so lovely?
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 4:37 PM UTC
while being a man eater
she preferred
to be eaten
like a ***** bride for a vampyre
cleanse us from all unrighteousness
she liked her ****
bruised as beaten apples
with scorched *******
perforated with the needles
still glimmering in her areolas
oozing small rivulets of blood
as if alters to a weird mythic Jesus
do unto others
she spread her haunches wide
and knelt in supplication
her **** and glistening **** presented
for the scythe and whipping slick ******
let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace
she imagined
her body like a dirigible
exploding in mid air
her hands caressed her lush *****
with rabid fingers
like a woodpecker on amphetamines
girding an unlocked cage
of wet smeared lips
for this is my blood of the covenant
her **** drooled
as if a thousand baby tongues
dripped for a teasing tickling blade
knotty hung ***** and sagging *****
on the way to a glorious ascension
hard is the path to God
her life more dissolute
than *** **** videos
a rich lady languishing
with a growling animal inside her
and gold enough for life
but not too rich to bleed
extravagant tears of flaming petals
while licking devils *****
and being eaten and ******
from **** hole to gut
in a bottomless rusty bathtub
by a pantheon of fiends
*come now, let us reason together, shes a horney *****
in her own rem noir dark city
of obsidian dreams
she woke up happy as a jitterbug
and full of grace
her cunty fingers tasted extra ******
and slippery as melted butter
beware
watch out for the boiling red eye
and the hillbilly keep out sign
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 12:45 PM UTC