"cuckold" poems
She made me wear
A pink french maid's uniform that day
I had to wait on her and her black stud lover Tyrone
Fix them drinks and make them dinner
These are the duties of the ***** cuckold
It's hard to be inferior to him
He is so well-built and powerful
A perfectly sculpted body
A large and powerful manhood
He is every woman's dream
She reminds me that no beautiful woman
Will ever want to be with a ***** like me
That my manhood is too small
That my *** drive is too low
Nature has dealt me a bad hand
I sit by the bedroom door
This time I am not allowed to watch
She only told me that they would be doing it **********
I sit next to the door
I hear her load moans and sighs
I know he is pleasuring her
In ways I never could
My goodness
Forty-five minutes have passed
And they are still going at it
I peer through a crack in the door
He is so powerful that he can hold her up
As he thrusts deep inside her
I am not strong enough
To have *** in the standing position
What a man he is
He can squat 300 pounds
And has a strong powerful ***
Look at him ******
She screams in ecstasy
After she is finished
She will tell me how wonderful he was
As I polish her high heels
After he leaves
I have the humiliating and exciting task
Of giving her oral pleasure
These are the duties of the ***** cuckold
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
The beauty of comatose can only be seen through
the eyes of a wizard in a blizzard
strutting in garlic slippers,
or Christ with knees bent at the tabernacle
peeling bananas and kicking prayers
farther than eternity with each gapping second,
or like Basquiat slumped back to the wall,
with ounces of speedball dancing through his veins,
eating 80’s free-based fried chicken *******
as his eyelids paints beautiful nightmares of lemon flowers
and Bacchus bacon over a glycopyrrolate desert
of flagrant cuckold buffoonery.
Or like leprechauns burning chocolate ******* candles
on the mantle of Zion, sipping oatmeal sprinkled
with Staten Island malt liquor bacon.
or like Tupac reading the thoughts of Mother Shipton
through the daze of California cannabis
and hearing the ominous voice of Plutarch sing death assignments
from heaven to Assassins on horsebacks goggling ***** water
to wet the dry bones of their throats as they prepare to fulfill
the gospel of self-fulfilling prophecies of being fell by ***** bullets.
Or like sophisticated wallets of spice and kitchen characters in a bald head
cooking chemical kisses and 18 February nights under Moloch’s skin,
where constitutions are written in charcoal diaries with Egyptian ciphers and razors.
“I had rain sowed into the pockets of my sneakers and composed 1310 eulogies
at the basement of king David’s tower,” said the Kraftwerkian caricature,
as he dangles cigarettes in remembrance of Klaus Nomi and philosophizes on the proliferation
of poetic vandalism at urinals where modernism failed under the phosphorescence of coloration at the avenue of no trees where Picasso's "Guernica" **** Lies All.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know substantial cultural values of the people of Germany. Like in this case the modern social naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to some silent social and emotional disposition in Europe that the English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of engendered civilization all the times.
Yours
Alexander k Opicho
NB/ i kindly invite Theodore to come to Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore is subverted to bwana tadayo
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
The Aces check their sleeves,
Hearts rippling across the breeze.
The Queen arises
Slowly,
Torn dress ripped at the knees.
The Jack saw his fill
And quickly took his leave.
Stood trembling in a doorway,
Mind struggling to believe...
The King was an alcoholic,
It was widely known to be so,
Each eve he would sit solemn,
Wine in hand and sword on show,
Clapping to the Jokers' japes
As he danced and sang
About love and fate.
But how was the King to know?
Not two rooms away
His wife had lain,
With a smile and a *****
Creating a cuckold and a fool...
The Jack had had enough
And promptly marched
To the throne room.
Armed with only knowledge,
Unleashes inevitable typhoon.
The winds will rise,
This house shall succumb,
Imploding inwards
Till the house is done.
And all that remains
Among ash and decay,
Broken hearts and broken spades,
Is the Jokers last laugh.
A mockingbirds call as daylight fades.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
In comes one every week,
tracking into my home the filth of the streets:
some are patterned like cows,
some wear tuxedos,
some have turtle shells on their backs.
One looks like a whole spice rack spilled out on him.
Barn cats, alley cats, stray cats, exotic cats—
she says no to none of them.
This home is wild and foolish like her mind.
That compassion pours out like acid on my bones.
Then I’m forced to shoot her down
with words that fly out like bullets,
and more mouthfuls
and more mouthfuls of bullets
that all but ricochet off her iron clad will.
You turn so perfectly
down your roads of passion.
Creep on through the stop signs I put up
and mount on my head the horns,
the ones we pretend we can’t see,
the ones that let the bullets soar,
bullets to **** you again,
horns to undress your sister.
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 4:37 PM UTC
The cuckold sat
Crying
As he
Peeked through the door
The Arab stallion
****** deep
Into his wife
She screamed for more!
Deeper inside her
Then he had ever been
She loved his c****
It was no sin
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
He only imbibes because of his dipsomania.
She only practices onanism because she's afraid he'll impregnate her.
He despises her monomania.
She's too affable, almost to the point of being obsequious.
He's too acrimonious and muzzy.
She knows she's a bit of a coquette.
He thinks he's a cuckold.
She used to be flighty until she fell into this convoluted dystopia.
He used to find it scintillating to get sozzled.
She just wants a lark once in a while.
His iniquity makes him want her to be lascivious.
Her every fatuity leads to a cabal.
He's too opaque and insipid.
She has to iterate and reiterate everything she says.
He feels his infatuation is unrequited.
She finds this unproblematic.
He doesn't imbue her with anything anymore.
She thinks he's unpitying of that.
He'll malinger tomorrow.
She'll wonder if it's all adventitious or kismet.
She can't handle his odium.
He can't stand her ten dollar words.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
There blew winds of change,
Immoral they made me forget,
Forget the pure form of love.
Entwined around this heart,
The dreadful poisonous creeper,
How they **** all life inside.
Perhaps you misunderstood,
Blaming someone else I am not,
Because I was the gardener.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Submission upwards towards the void of eternal blessings in disguise
The angel behind the leather mask
Just wants us to feel out the sacred nature of our transgressions
Just vibrations stuttering along to a heartbeat
Liberation lashes
Tearing a hole in the sky
Teasing out the idea of turning you on
You were already lit up
Reflecting the Sun
Igniting fire to my *****
Illumination everything
switch
You came in the dark and left marks
Bruising my ego to dismantle itself
Dreams manifested
You held me down like sleep paralysis
Demanding my soul to sacrifice itself to the Moon
Watching with pleasure
You were the shadows in my room
Dancing the divine candlelight
A cuckold of my imagination
as I took it lying down
This is worship
This is tribute
3 cheers
3 chants
3 times
Go down
Descend on me
Goddess archetype
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
A quiet evening
A man watering his lawn
As I walk up my street
Listening to jazz
The noise box
Is blaring
When I come home
Too much television
I'd like to turn it off
I walked up the street
My familiar akward shoulder
My familiar imbalance
I found a a branch
It made a tripod
And supported me
As I walked
It also served
As the horns
Of the cornuto
Or cuckold
As I put it over me
"Look at me, a cuckold"
Haha
The horns of a cuckold
No woman to cuckold me
Perhaps I am cuckolded by
The women I watch
In *** videos
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 1:13 AM UTC
I killed her
Maybe the world did,
some for me.
Maybe there's something, anything,
else.
I feel Her so truly
like an echo
all relief will be temporary,
all work for not.
each letter screamed by the muted cuckold.
I awake to my present
bound to love
bound to Her
and as I scream and
My heart screams out
please listen
for my echo.
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 6:37 AM UTC
She's no
Fragile
*******
Flower
She'll plant
Seeds
in
sanity
And grow
Through
Telepathic
Psychopathy
Passed
the
past
too rough
for diamonds
What didn't **** her
made her outpower
her ego
And she sent her soul
To cocktease
my cognitive construct
in haunting hallucinations
The girl next door
frantically feeling me up
via shared consciousness
She
suppressed
this obsession
So she's always
locked in my mind
like a ***** secret
She holds
the key
like a
cuckold
constricting roots
to hold me down
to Earth
with
no
release
She's
a wild
*******
flower
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
Miss Amphetamine,
It's been two weeks
Since I bowed down
to speak in tongues
To worship you.
**You ****
You told me
That you'd see me next Tuesday
When I felt my soul
wasn't enough.
But I met someone else
She sets my soul on fire
sings my body electric
and keeps my
electro-magnetic heart
stimulated
Attracting the opposite
of what you held together
and selfishly beat
with chemicals
Miss Amphetamine,
you were my soul's
straight jacket
A cuckold of imagination
you got off
on watching me
**** myself
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
I never asked you to undress
You wrote yourself into my life
your punished, caffeine heart
became a cuckold
amongst the yarn I spun
You spoke to me
but my words were meant for everyone
You spoke to me
but my words were meant for anyone
but you
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC
she paints her smile on
and turns her weary thoughts to the
sunlight streaming weakly through the open door
she hesitates on the cusp of her movement
and carefully considers stepping out there
but is instead captured by
the motel balcony's chipped concrete features
it powder's the mind with years it has seen
the nineteen sixties frat boys
and the seventy's hard hitters
but that train of thought evaporates into the
open sound of his shouts from the parking lot below
she lays a trembling hand on her bag
and casts an attempt of deep gaze around the soiled room
for lingering pieces of their adventure
before stepping into the light furnace of day
the sudden appearance of the highway near at
hand tumbles into her field of perception
tonight they will be hundreds of miles north is her thought
she checks the doors lock and half stumbles to the stair
she dreads the events to unfold
dreads the hours of engine noise and his muttering
the mindnumbing noise of the radio
and the etched features of roadway benith wheel
somewhere up the road this will end
that knowledge is secure
all things change
but enduring is the cuckold of thouse who
thrive on the grieving of the unbearable
she leans her frame into the car
its japanese pleather is sticky
and she by pulling the door shut acknowledges
her departure
they move to the road
with seeming intent
a backward glance of longing is her only consolation
they are travelling once more
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Baby, there's love between our eyes
So much love in disguise...
Incendiary, sparkling, tongued-out, pint size
But I won't be some tricked cuckold blindfold piece of ****
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Where has brother bird gone?
Asks dog to sly fox
He is tempted in shadows
caught in twisting maze
cuckold with clover honey
and horns of thorny bramble
He has left us to sway
in dead breeze
our faces loosened
grins too tight
We'll feed our bellies
offal and
dead grass
Stiff bodies to greet the
dawning of day
when brother bird returns too late
to sing blood back to royal throne
Come, all trace buries now
in dead light and heavy stone
Hide madness with me
friend dog
To earth and rooted cellar; there
burning pyre
smolders in the dark -
Goblin King will soon be by.
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 6:45 AM UTC
The cuckold sits with empty pride
at all that's on display
he does not yearn for awful truth
'bout where she is today.
he dreams of travels far and wide
and promises the earth
he knows not that his dreams are lies
a source of lovers mirth
when she returns as day goes dim
he'll try to light a spark
he does not see that it's not he
who owns her weary heart.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
Now is my passion genuine,
Or fuelled by lustful need to win
I must have you within my arms
Held tight together, sharing charms.
Forbidden love, but do we care
Wrapped in sin, we make love there
While all around, the world goes mad
For this snatched moment we are glad.
And as we lie, our passion spent
The skies are filled with dark portent
The cuckold is life’s tragedy
He lost his lover’s love to me
He couldn’t ever set her free
I took her to Eternity.
©Joe Wilson – Sinful surfing…2015
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
It is so cold and dark as gloom
I'm on the floor hog-tied and bound
The door is locked to my new room
I don't know if I will be found
I'm on the far side of the moon
Deep silence I can't hear a sound
I really thought I was immune
Even though no one was around
I think maybe it was about noon
I saw you two and my heart drowned
You were hand in hand love abloom
How on Earth could I have been clowned
My hand to my hip then the boom
You lay bleeding on the hard ground
Caught within the web of your loom
Grief and misery both abound
Tour song of love was out of tune
I weigh treachery by the pound
My heart break to you I impugn
My once kind smiling face has frowned
Horrid deeds drop me in a swoon
The gravity does me astound
You will be buried this afternoon
A grave and tomb will you impound
The green-eyed monster sealed my doom
But why, why did you so confound
A love, a life so opportune
My feelings for you so profound
A cuckold pathetic buffoon
Alas no peace have I found
Here on the far side of the moon
Here on the floor hogtied and bound
You lay bleeding on the hard ground
Caught within the web of your loom
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
Temptation shies
From revealing sun,
Its subtleties
Shine on everyone.
Don't look for horns,
Fork and tail;
Its method ensnares
The unsuspecting,
Should they dare
Challenge to outwit.
We'll trade our souls,
For a sack;
Barter what we dearly hold;
Trade it in
For selfish goals.
Some advertise
A soul for sale
By self-service.
That ultimately fails.
Cuckold a friend,
Cheat at the end;
The tempter likes it
When we're lost
In the simplicity
Of detail.
So sly
We think
We lose our souls.
Terrified by
Eternal flames
That burn without
Consuming skin.
We don't
Lose that,
We wallow
In our sins.
This temptation needs
To stick us
In the end.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
Salient Cannibal
i am famous example: a cuckold
of light
i've lamed conductors maimed seducers
and committed a variety of sadness
please lay deep in me the confederacy
of
photo copy girl.
fin.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
Life is an automatic process
It goes on automatically
I live in a simulated world
Changing times and changing faces
Changing dates and changing places
It's all the same to me
The emptiness remains the same
There is a woman
Who I love
In an ideal world
We would be together
Alas
She married a strong powerful man
An alpha male
A Jujitsu expert
With great ****** stamina
When he thrusts into her
I moan in my bed
The pathetic cries of the cuckold
He is ******* the woman of my dreams
Filling her with his seed
Well, It is not an ideal world
Things often do not go as planned
And when I am able
To become aroused enough
I am learning to love the taste
Of my own cream
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Duped by Satan, the best man
About the commandments
Remind himself no longer can!
Getting inured to the situation
He is in, he committed a sin.
The pious cuckold put
A noose around his neck
Into his hands his shattered life to take.
Those, who backbiting him
Capitalizing on what he lack
Saw their crime stark
A sharp tongue could be
The worst weapon of attack.
Cane killed Abel with a stone
"Where is your brother?"
Asked him God anon
Cane got submerged
In sin's mud pool deeper
"Am I my brother's keeper?"
The act of killing a brother
With a stone
Might had gone,
But changing its form
It pokes its ugly face
In every place.
Inflicting on
A brother or neighbor harm
Such as putting those
Spliced in marriage asunder
Is no less than committing ******
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 4:57 AM UTC