"deflowering" poems
i still taste your sticky sweet nectar on
my lips from the time you released your
seed onto my perfect *******
then you traced your fingertips onto
my precious flower and tasted my sweet honey, watching it drip from your fingertips
as you plastered your mark into my sweet flower--
my breathing becoming shallow from the sensations, thoughts scattered , close to the threshold before a beautiful release of ecstasy .
A perfect deflowering carved into my memory.
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 8:55 PM UTC
You had not joined me
My totem-journey to the wellspring of the Colorado
to seek the source of things uncontained
the stars washed over me with asphyxiation
the breathless gasp of space
--In the deserts;
Rocklands--
the emerald barrel cactus
is watered as the earth
and the passerby
Cheyenne
cut into the crust
to sip the wine-flesh
to be drunk
and exhume the inhibitions of living
Forbidden berries
in the garden of quills, spear thistles
trust upon the air to protect her children
a good, silent mother
does not refuse
the gift of deflowering
as she is stripped
of her sharpness
and laundered
bestowed in salted bison skin of a war-chief's pouch.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
Mayan Poetry Translations
The Receiving of the Flower
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let us sing overflowing with joy
as we observe the Receiving of the Flower.
The lovely maidens beam;
their hearts leap in their *******
Why?
Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love!
###
The Deflowering
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Remove your clothes;
let down your hair;
become as naked as the day you were born—
virgins!
###
Prelude to **********
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Lay out your most beautiful clothes,
maidens!
The day of happiness has arrived!
Grab your combs, detangle your hair,
adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants.
Dress in white as becomes maidens ...
Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter!
And all the village will rejoice with you,
for the day of happiness has arrived!
###
The Flower-Strewn Pool
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You have arrived at last in the woods
where no one can see what you do
at the flower-strewn pool ...
Remove your clothes,
unbraid your hair,
become as you were
when you first arrived here,
virgins, maidens!
These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch
These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: ancient, Mayan, poetry, translation, translations, love, virginity, *** marriage, joy, happiness, flower, flowers, deflowering, clothes, hair, ****** nakedness
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 4:54 AM UTC
this past weekend I tried to have *** with you
and you said you were not ready
and that that was ridiculous
because i am the girl that you've been going insane about for the last year
a whole ******* year
that is incredible
i think that is absolutely lovely
all i was trying to do was make you happy
He told me that being intimate and close to someone was the only way to achieve such a thing
at least it was implied
numerous times
and one of the only reasons he gave for breaking up with me
not good enough in the sack
well **** you
i am an insecure mess and i need someone to guide me through the deflowering process
we don't all study ****
you inconsiderate pig
i loved you and trusted you and you took me in when i was very confused and fragile
and you manipulated that because you think it's interesting to do social experiments
on girls who seem odd
it's not fair
although i do thank you
for having the courtesy
of saying I love you first
i was so afraid that would never happen
and now this isn't even a poem
it's a diary rant
and i am once again a baby in diapers
******** my pants
waiting for you to come
pick me up again
and tell me everythings ok
i still love you
remember?
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
W. S. Rendra translations
Willibrordus Surendra Broto Rendra (1935-2009), better known as W. S. Rendra or simply Rendra, was an Indonesian dramatist and poet. He said, “I learned meditation and the disciplines of the traditional Javanese poet from my mother, who was a palace dancer. The idea of the Javanese poet is to be a guardian of the spirit of the nation.” The press gave him the nickname Burung Merak (“The Peacock”) for his flamboyant poetry readings and stage performances.
SONNET
by W. S. Rendra
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Best wishes for an impending deflowering.
Yes, I understand: you will never be mine.
I am resigned to my undeserved fate.
I contemplate
irrational numbers―complex & undefined.
And yet I wish love might ... ameliorate ...
such negative numbers, dark and unsigned.
But at least I can’t be held responsible
for disappointing you. No cause to elate.
Still, I am resigned to my undeserved fate.
The gods have spoken. I can relate.
How can this be, when all it makes no sense?
I was born too soon―such was my fate.
You must choose another, not half of who I AM.
Be happy with him when you consummate.
THE WORLD'S FIRST FACE
by W. S. Rendra
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Illuminated by the pale moonlight
the groom carries his bride
up the hill―
both of them naked,
both consisting of nothing but themselves.
As in all beginnings
the world is naked,
empty, free of deception,
dark with unspoken explanations―
a silence that extends
to the limits of time.
Then comes light,
life, the animals and man.
As in all beginnings
everything is naked,
empty, open.
They're both young,
yet both have already come a long way,
passing through the illusions of brilliant dawns,
of skies illuminated by hope,
of rivers intimating contentment.
They have experienced the sun's warmth,
drenched in each other's sweat.
Here, standing by barren reefs,
they watch evening fall
bringing strange dreams
to a bed arrayed with resplendent coral necklaces.
They lift their heads to view
trillions of stars arrayed in the sky.
The universe is their inheritance:
stars upon stars upon stars,
more than could ever be extinguished.
Illuminated by the pale moonlight
the groom carries his bride
up the hill―
both of them naked,
to recreate the world's first face.
Keywords/Tags: Rendra, Indonesian, Javanese, translation, love, fate, god, gods, goddess, groom, bride, world, time, life, sun, hill, hills, moon, moonlight, stars, life, animals , international, travel, voyage, wedding, relationship, mrbtran
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
Titanic
****** berth, she stands,
Maiden stream deflowering the
sunlight.
Immense furore along the dock.
Streamers, banners, brass bands.
Herald the beginning of
the end.
Magnificent and stately,
There she stands, a glory to behold.
Pomp and splendour,
Wealth with greed,
All set to sail the seven seas.
A dream of life,
A life of dreams
Splendour of their own,
Scrambling ice mountains, glisten
Shining a fateful allure to a frozen death
A stern captain,
Calm, dignified,
Guides the ship of dreams unto her nightmare,
“Astern”, he cries, unheard through
muffled joy….
Crunching, crashing, listing,
A myriad of smashing crystal,
Destined for the deep,
Air thick with screams of terror,
Young, old, rich, poor,
All scared.
Mortified corpses float,
Water littered with deceased,
While the living dead look on.
Hope’s dashed,
Time dies silently.
Carpathian angel,
Saviour of souls,
God spoke,
Their souls were saved!
Livvi Kent 2012
[email protected]
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Every time you lay me down on an afghan
It's like you're deflowering me again
Your lips against mine, so sweet and so soft, just us two
Skin to skin, you touch me and I melt into you
These positions are very tricky
With every one, you leave a hickey
Our hands intertwined
Reminds me you're mine
You nibbling on my ear
Makes me feel the end is near
Though I don't want his feeling to end
You slowly make my back bend
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
Girls as sweet as cream, as pastries
wispy, airy, baby fairy
Weeping girls with their lovely flushed cheeks
I stand before you and my knees grow weak
I stand before you, and my soul grows meek
Do you see my heart shatter like a dropped antique?
Cuz I’m small, but not dainty
Small, not faint of heart
too loud, too much, not enough and I know
You’d much better love a girl as sweet as apple ****
Cuz how can I be your Ophelia when my tragedy isn’t piteous?
and how could I be worth loving
if my body is so, so hideous?
Or if my lips aren’t kissable? My heart not worth devouring?
What beauty does a young girl have if she’s not worth deflowering?
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 12:42 PM UTC
__[Coup de foudre]__
//
A sudden unexpected event, especially
an emotional one; love at first sight
Now the question on my mind: is there any detail
to love at first sight; for the naked eye
finds pleasure in a **** body in silk or satin;
as he’s so anticipated of her, in a customary hot pose,
Deflowering the garden’s well protected rose
dropping her guard and unwrapping her sensual soul;
Soft lips as his chest- to the pleasure of a heart
still, what if love at first sight wasn’t so pure;
an enhancement of one’s value
An exaggerate beauty, a functional part’s wants
In the eyes of another, I have seen how much I desired them
as my own selfish needs- _that was my love at first sight_
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024 at 7:06 AM UTC
There’s a tremor
That ripples through
This pocket of air,
The electric aura
That surrounds my hair,
The sounds are melodic,
Like the cries of scared
Spirits, calling Mladic
To make an appearance
In the lake of fire
He sent them to swim in,
But missing the point,
Missing the part of life
With a purpose,
Wishing to rise back up
To the surface
And start the slide all over again,
Start the decline down to
A black abyss where
Doors exist
Just too keep you in,
Where laws are ********
And the good guy never wins,
And I’m pretty sure
He never did,
I’ve never seen the good guy win,
Cuz if the good guy could Catch a break,
There’d be no lie to trap us in,
But either way there’s no way to escape,
Cuz the good guy never wins
And the good girl always gets *****
So I’ll keep holding my sanity loosely,
And keep taking heed to her song,
That “every secret is juicy,
Whether it’s Ricky cheating on Lucy,
Or the world controlled by
Ancient snakes,
Either way you don’t get to say
How high the stakes of truth be,”
You don’t get paid
For being truthful,
It’s ruthless action
That’s truly
Beautiful,
Or maybe her face is too,
The one I saw peering in
Through a snow-rimmed window,
Buried in a fur-lined hood
With cheeks red with the
Sea of blood
Shifting just under
Paper skin,
The storm spawned
By the walk
Sending waves of colour
And life and vivacity
And ****** perfection
Crashing into
The softest cheeks
To ever brush mine,
The very ones I’ve wished to destroy
As the breath quickened,
The tempo rose,
And the sweat poured
Onto summer sheets
In a bed to small
And weak
To hold the tremendous weight
Of love deferred
And reignited
By a shared passion
For hurting and getting hurt.
The face in the window
Was flushed with heat,
Yet colder than the parents
That sent her out into the night,
Hoping she wouldn’t find something to eat,
And isn’t it funny how she still
found me?
Ready and willing
To be ripped apart
And devoured
For the deflowering
Of a misconceived heart.
I opened the door and let her in
So I could begin being born again.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
I have run down the sun,
I have gunned it down dead,
I have taken down the world,
and put a bullet in its head.
Oh no - shards of shadows,
hints of memories lost,
I took the life of another man,
Because I believed in the cross.
Surround me now, oh children young,
For it is for you that I have sold my soul.
Cluck the clutch of bullets young,
In the magazine of my crook’ed gun.
I look at my mind in rewind,
A series of rehearsed images burst.
Somehow I remember nothing but my worst
hours
Hours
hours
Hours
So now I relinquish – for this is my finest hour yet,
I have destroyed the best for myself.
I do not deserve better,
For my sins are costly memories.
I shall cast myself into the sea,
The sea from whence I came,
To beginning of the ride,
To the beginning of the game,
I am happy now – content to say the least,
With a wry smile like the cat with the cream,
It has been a while,
My time has come to a close,
Its been a long time,
This deflowering of the rose,
I have resisted for so long.
I - like the beach - have held back the sea,
Held back the sands of time.
But in the end no matter how long it takes,
The end is inevitable,
So now I my life lay waste.
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 10:47 AM UTC
.
Your flesh lies in your grave,
my ashes fly on the breeze.
And our Ghosts intertwine,
link-haunting through the trees.
Ethereal energy in ivory white,
wraith-like tinged in blue.
Mist shroud figures wrapped
are the Ghosts of me and you.
You call across my aeons,
your shade is next to mine.
I reply within a veiled second,
deflowering the ***** of time.
Forever conjoined fog-twins,
eternity is our lust to save.
With my ashes on the wind
and your flesh lying in a grave.
© Pagan Paul (31/05/17)
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
I finger the duck,
with a plastic finger,
The blood flows,
to the middle knuckle.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
slowly
deflowering
all the emotion
without the touch.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
she is cold & wet inside of my ear, belly round with meat & ******* she is skirt shoved to bruised knees, enveloped with lukewarm milk & sin this is a deflowering, drunk with divine offering & bottled sighs.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
You pick me up with your fingers
A hungry, dominant stare lingers
Pulling my limbs apart
Your mouth reeks with 'Sweetheart.'
In this lifeless state of wonder
Glazed by societal views, dragging me under
Clasped tight with no escape
Wanting to scream, 'Rape!'
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
i’m too heavy, too full
of venom and scorn
i wish i had a birds hollow bones
so i could fly above
the desolate and lovelorn
but instead i dig and
i dig and i dig and i dig
i sink into the core of the earth
and i melt into magma
to burn into ashes and return
back to where i was made
i am a hornet of an angel
with a silver knifepoint stinger
and rice paper wings
they flake and crumble
and cry and rumble
i am an insect of a woman
with grotesque snapping jaws
and two druxy hearts
staring into the window of
ephemeral eternal deflowering
so i die, i die, and i die again
my feathers are weighed
down with oil and rot
so i rip into myself
and chew on my loathing
Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
This loneliness
Is like empty walls
An echo of silence
Bouncing back and forth
Reminding me of the
Darkness of my soul
Paranoia and the voices mocking me
Persisting and alluring
Showing me that ropes
Are of a Purple Velvet matter
Seducing ****** they are
Death by a wet kiss
Drowning in this glorious liquid and fluids
Tight ******* with profanities
Right against my sore body
Erecting me high
Deflowering my innocence
******* me off of any sanity
How can I resist?
Seductive words in glamorous blasphemies
Tingling all my senses
And then, with no mercy
Showing me a reflection
Of a hideous and grotesque monster
It is me
It has always been me
And in my despair
In my loneliness
In my own tribulations
Self-destruction
Might be the only way
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC
The Deflowering
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Remove your clothes;
let down your hair;
become as naked as the day you were born—
virgins!
Native American translation originally published by The HyperTexts
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 12:48 AM UTC
I scream **** like a blossom being picked,
ripped from the soil, roots left behind.
My family waves goodbye, weeping crimson petals
and wilting their heads, ashamed of my shame.
They turn their stems to me, humiliated by my deflowering.
Can you smell my terror? Can you taste my anguish?
As I lie here ruined, face down in the dirt,
plucked then tossed near the rest of his bouquet.
She loves me, she loves me not? No.
I am still there, I am always there.
Rocks bury themselves into my eyes,
each ****** blinding me but I can still see him.
I hear him moan my name as if he knows me,
“Narcissus, Narcissus, you’re mine.”
He lets go, flooding me with his backwards milk.
We lie here. his bouquet, in Cemetery X on grave Y
marked “Hope”, but there never really was hope, was there?
His name was Amor.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
i.
she savoured her
blue eyes meets brown
deflowering each other
the first wave hits her
tilting her head back
she wonders how
how and why
took so long
ii.
hands gripping the sheets
the pale skin tuning pink
shivering under her Venus
her vision blurred into grey
burning in front of her
iii.
the melting pleasure
breathing each other's name
hearbeats slowing down
while they echoed their love.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
The stage is set as prying eyes look on. All things leading up to the act are in motion. The romance between two young lovers culminates in the wedding scene. Then the stage changes, the fair maiden goes to her betroth. As the two come together and the ****** nears, the lights go down on cue and curtain call. What happened, alas the censors are prudes, end scene.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
helios shone on her
golden glories of girlhood
ripe flesh, rose-lipped grins
lingering odor of peonies
dowsed in foolish desire
god of greed, god of fire
god pondering feeling, lidded ire
deigned loner, prowling defiler
holier spire of gospel denier
leering siren song
fingers wed poison
groping seeds of peril
lips feed on endings edge
howling elegies, rendered sorrow
peregrine prisoner of noose region
wife of ego, gowned in gliding gore
renewed weeping, fowl whispers
singeing inferno flooding idle hope worn
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC