"derriere" poems
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh
From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
*Quintessential charmer, libidinous crow pheasant, has an eye on him,
thinly disguised mating calls disclose her keenness of intention,
protruding derriere, provocative walk, her amour leaves
nothing to guess, 'what you fancy is my desire' her acts yell out to him.*
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 9:20 AM 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
I need you to want me
like I want you
to dig your nails into
my derriere as you
pull me closer to you
****** into me like you own me
oh how I love being submissive to you
this lust has me in a whirlwind
make me melt how you treat my neck
like an oyster, ******* licking, nibbling, biting
biting my lip making my head spin
the way your mouth is on my mountain peaks
is extreme pleasure bordering on pain
you don’t have to touch me
feeling your hot breath on the mouth to my river
makes me twitch and throb
at the thought of your moist tongue
running up and down me
you must want me to beg you ‘cause
I know you want me.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
Hello there little hemorrhoid.
Hanging from my ****
I really wish you'd go away,
'Cause you hurt like you know what.
At times you seem to disappear,
And then I have relief.
But when I go and take a dump,
You then return. "Good grief!"
You really make me feel,
Like I'm pooping broken glass.
Or something else that's jagged,
That I have to try and pass.
I don't want you to stay around,
My sphincter and I agree.
'Cause when I use the toilet paper,
It feels like bark from a tree!
I've used medicated pads
And even gooey cream.
But no matter what, you still return,
Like an awful, recurring dream!
From suppositories to cold packs
And using an air pillow.
There seems to be no relief
From you my little fellow.
I've heard that a specialist
Who braves that funky zone
Can remove you with a snip
But my wallet's empty and alone.
So I guess I am stuck with you
On my derriere
And with the pain I get from you
Causing me to swear!
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
Well, what a week, full of revelation
Enough to stir this talk of revolution
Makes your hackles turn on end
Then send you round the bend
The southern gentry have found oil
Right beneath their derriere boil
Now most of us on this golden isle
Need not worry about this pile
Those who wear weekend country tweed,
Built their fortunes from housing greed
Have already decided
That it will be one sided
They’ll say it’s theirs, by rights
And if we argue, will read our last rites
The South will declare independence
In certainty of their full ascendance
Over the outer reaches of this nation
They pounded into servitude, by taxation
And if we have the nerve to debate, I’ll be bound
They’ll leave it horded in the ground,
Then blame the anti frackin’ hound
Now I may need a political re - education
In a 1984 establishment for rehabilitation
But I can see it coming a five-nation island
Southland, Wales, Scotland, N. Ireland,
And the Detritus
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
I wheel it out, my green and black bicycle
The roads shiny and quiet, the grey skies overcast
I start slow, breathing in the clean morning air
The fragrance of wet leaves and mulch, moss and old trees
I hear the morning song of the birds
And see the blossoms heralding spring
I nod to the old woman walking her spaniel
And notice the beating of my own heart
The rucksack a comforting weight
My breath even and warm in the wintry air
My derriere sore from yesterday’s excesses
The road, glorious, wide, welcoming and endless
Crossing the road, I am struck by the symmetry
Of a lone tree, leafless, bare, proud, naked
And the beauty of an old, stone church
And the wheels of the cycle keep spinning
The roar of traffic on the motorway always a shock
As I adjust, I breathe in the manure
From green fields so vast, flanked by white
And pause to see the muddy, turbulent stream
As I rack up the miles
My heartbeat is a sledgehammer
My legs are on fire
And I feel alive
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:38 AM UTC
I’ve always looked at dancing girls.
I think that all men do.
I drool at scenes
Like tight blue jeans–
Until they fade from view.
Where pretty girls are showcased
I’m sure to raise a toast
Cause a derriere
Might make me stare
Till I become a ghost.
And, yes, it’s like a candy store
When beauties crowd the beach
Because a teeny
And snug bikini
Make my right and left eyes meet.
For I lo-o-o-o-o-ve to goggle long long legs
Whereever I may roam
And if they're cute
I will weigh the fruit
But I always boogie home
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 7:09 PM UTC
one...
fingertip he traced
two...
to lips he'll taste...wet
three...
caresses; trembled haste
four...
cradles softness, plump derriere
five...
covers breast tweaking, lingering there
shuddering as tongue parts me, like a sweet eclair
breathless; fingers entangled in hair
he's says:
baby, straddle thickness, love me right here...ahhhhh!!!! yes!!!
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 1:56 AM UTC
Je sais que vous venez ici pour votre dose quotidienne de mariages .mais je suis tout aussi certain que vous êtes ici pour votre dose quotidienne de plaisir aussi .Valerie Barnes film a livré .parce que le couple au centre de ce mariage a à la fois un amour et un bonheur qui sont contagieux !\u003cp\u003eS'il vous plaît mettre à jour votre browserColorsSeasonsFallSettingsBallroomHotelStylesTraditional
De la photographie .Même si Suzanne et Carl se sont réunis et maintenant résident à Boston .elle a choisi de se marier dans sa ville natale de Pittsburgh parce qu'elle voulait se marier à la cathédrale Saint- Paul .l'église où ses parents se sont mariés en 1972 . " Je ne peux pas attendre pourêtre dans cette église . C'est si beau . "
Quand elle a Carl à Pittsburgh pour la première fois.elle l'a emmené à l'église pour le mariage d'un cousin et lui dit: « Je vais me marier un jour dans cette église . "
Le matin du jour de son mariage .elle s'habillait à la maison de ses parents à Fox Chapel .Bien que sa robe a été conçu par Monique L'
huiller et ses chaussures par Badgley Mischka .at-elle ajouté quelques objets personnels pour compléter son look - le voile qu'elle portait était mariage voile de la mère et le bracelet qu'elle portait a également été emprunté à sa mère .
La réception de mariage a eu lieu à l' Hôtel Omni William Penn ." J'ai adoré qu'il était robe courte devant longue derriere au cœur du centre-ville de Pittsburgh et a également pensé qu'il était parfait pour la sensation de notre mariage . "la pensée de
Susanna de son mariage ." j'espère que notre mariage que nous sommes en mesure de tenir dans nos cœurs et nos esprits l'amour et de l'admiration et l'appréciation que robe de mariée 2014 nous avons les uns pour les autres aujourd'hui tous les jours .et que nous continuons de plus en plus non seulement commeindividus.mais comme un couple "
Photographie : Goldstein Photographie | vidéographie : . Valerie Barnes Film | planification de l'événement: Le groupe d'événements | Floral Design : Hepatica | Robe robe courte devant longue derriere de mariage: Monique Lhuillier | Gâteau : Vanille Pâtisserie | Cérémonie Lieu: Saint-Paulcathédrale | Réception Lieu: Omni William Penn | Chaussures : Badgley Mischka | Bijoux : Tiffany | Restauration : Omni William Penn | robes de demoiselles d'honneur ' \\ : Amsale | Linge de maison : linge de lit mosaïque | Tuxedo : Tophat TuxedoAmsale .Badgley Mischka et Monique Lhuillier sont membres de notre Look Book .Pour plus d'informations sur la façon dont les membres sont choisis .cliquez ici
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
After a long hard day on the job
Feeling down trodden and beat
All that it is that I can think of
Is getting off my dog tired feet
But first a little pleasure stop
Down at the local market place
So while I'm sitting on my derriere
I'll have something to stuff my face
Of course you know the conclusion
My taste buds they always come to
The perfect of all combinations
One on which you never can lose
I'm talking peanut butter and chocolate
The true fantasy of men
I prefer mine in little droplets
Better known as peanut butter m&m;'s
I fell straight into a chocoholic mode
Ripping the bag open as contents explode
No turning back as I mindlessly grab
Giggling like a crazed Dennis Rodman in drag
Then it slapped me right smack in the face
Something not right going on in this place
As I gazed upon what looked like to me
A regular m&m; in my bag of ecstasy
I couldn't believe what sat before my eyes
Have I been fed a bunch of white chocolate lies
My mouth hangs open truly amazed
With milk chocolate drool all over my face
I rufuse to let this travesty go unresolved
With my stationary shaped like butterfly wings
I shoot off a letter to the corporate boss
Telling of the trauma he has caused me
I want answers and I want them right now
Asking nothing less than the mysteries of life
How could anyone be so careless
As to let a regular m&m; slide by
Said they need people like me with keen eyes
Offered me work in their quality control booth
Now after months and months on the job
Even the thought of chocolate makes me want to puke
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
Qu' est-ce que c'est, ce bruit
Que j'ecoute au millieu de la nuit?
Ce n'est pas grand, c'est tout petit
Mais c'est la, dans le jardin
Quand je suis sur mon lit
Le matin nous levons une grande pierre
Et la, assis sur son derriere
C'est un crapaud, un petit crapaud
C'est lui, la source de notre mystere
Desormais je dormirai content sur mon lit
Je vais dire au crapaut
"Chantes pour nous,
bonne nuit, bonne nuit."
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
Follow lights the will-o-wisps
To red lights onto pillow slips
Walk under streetlight to pink lips
Everyone after green glow
Even if it means being a ***
J.Gatsby's after the afterglow
Peddlin their product, street vendors
Dealin in meat and being tender
****** in a backseat, body lenders
Crafting blissfull afterglow and after glow
Some call it sinful so callow although
Most aren't so shallow, chill in a bordello
Red lights swimmin in the air
Sanctity dyin without care
For sale tittys and derriere
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
I don’t need you in my head c.7.8.14 J.Ray
I don’t want you in my bed
I don’t need your indifference
I don’t need your deliverance
You should just kick me in the *****
You left me here to watch four walls
Take your demons to someone new
I tried to walk through fire with you
Upon my castle you cast your crown
You came in once, you tore it down
I don’t need your pity or your shame
Find someone else to play your game
You are in my head and in my heart
When you are here,you tear it apart
You cast me aside, just like yesterday’s news
Did you really think that you were my muse?
So find some confetti and throw it in the air
You will never again have to see my derriere
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
Please be aware,
Before entering her lair,
You face possible death.
As the perfumed air
From her derriere
Will have you gasping for breath
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
My dear, be aware.
That derriere
can cause a desire-filled delirium.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Unfinished
These streets mistreat
one hundred degrees in the heat
rode past said a prayer
lying on the pavement
was the new wretched
of the earth, so caste down
nothing left but death.
All them with nowhere to be.
Not allowed at bus-stops
or on park bench.
Emergency room huh no care zone
not even Obama care.
No walking on pavement
while impoverished.
no urgent pooping or walking
on grass. No soliciting tissue
to wipe their derriere – No water
no roof- no soil...
100 degrees on the cement.
Most alone -Few with someone
Lying on bare ground –
Mate stretched out
on her back-
She in an odious state
White woman, with black man
He tenderly rubbing her like a favorite pet.
Let’s not speak of the stench, that foul air that attacks
nostrils and eyes. Not even soap.
Could quell the smell. People cross to the other-side.
dare not bear witness to the offensive odors.
No air, nor breeze gives relief, not one clean breath or inhalation,
Hot pavement and stale air make you heave on these
Streets. Mistreatment of those detested, barely they breathe.
as they reached their safe haven, in front of that building.
A shelter that’s reached capacity, no entrance.
God forbidden streets, continue to mistreat, no loitering.
Passer byes making the sign of the cross, as they cross the street.
Uttering “but for the grace of God there go I”
Seems like Mockery and blaspheme.
Do those outstretched not also deserve God’s grace?
The righteous strut past hurriedly, without concern of
Karma.
Feeling better than the least of them.
Wonder why their being punished.
Mental illness, grandchildren abandoned to the system.
War veterans, Prison release,
Outlived their children.
Bloated Bellies eat…
Fancy scraps from high places –
nowhere to alleviate.
Good deeds written off on restaurant tax forms…
but can’t use their facilities.
Devour and swallow without tasting,
Chewing without teeth.
The righteous strut past hurriedly, without concern of
Karma.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
Feet, they're wonderful things
to the body a purpose they bring
not very pretty at all
but when you are walking
or even standing and talking
thank them as they don't let you fall
that's right you can't win
they're as ugly as sin
go ahead paint the nails if you must
just be grateful they're there
you're not on your derriere
for your balance in them you can trust
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
laying and relaxing in my bed
on my pillow and mattress
to comfort my head
a sunday of peacefulness
as the fragrant sheets
subtly put me to sleep
and circulates in the air
a single indent of my derriere
welcomes me back to my lair
as a habitual slumberer
missing the imprint of a partner
while the whirr of technology
taints the atmospheres synergy
i fall asleep in a inane clump
while my subconscious is in charge
and in cessation for a recharge
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
It was dark and I was scared
But you comforted me, so I felt prepared.
Nothing else to see, I was no longer me;
Rampant and ravenous, we got down to it.
Nervously lifting blouses whilst you undid my trousers,
Soft hands and gentle eyes, you asked me gently, to kiss your thighs.
Furtively, you blew my sails and I struggled on despite the gale
Until finally, ultimately, coming short.
Adrift at sea, poor abandoned me.
Exhausted and useless thinking that it's a shame your not toothless.
But I suppose fair's fair so I'd better lick your derriere
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
Hold your breath, it’s Friday!
From the North, East and West they all meet up here
And I have no options to make this sign
In the name of the father, Son and the Holy Spirit
Saucy lines strictly seasoned for hungry insatiable eyes
I accept my fate reluctantly, poor soul but they are here
Freshly baked brown bare thighs exhibited invitingly
Chocolate and light skins served chilled but with pepper
And this is Kampala, on this Friday, just hold your breath
Weapons of Mass destruction paraded on hefty chests
Smeared with scented oils suspended in visible bright colour bras
I hear them whispering faint nothings littering this city with their beauty
Hot painted lips on ever glowing pretty faces
Hold your breath brother, if you have any left!
For we can run but we can’t escape, this is Kampala on Friday
Saturday they all migrate to the lake scores of Entebbe
Parading leisurely their derriere ever bikini clad
But we still meet with them for our Sunday services
At Calvary, Watoto, All Saints etc. with hands raised to the Almighty God
And I humbly watch, perhaps lazily, perhaps keenly, God have mercy
Perfect curves in ever tight pieces of clothes, nails vanished, legs waxed
Hair held back in all variety of styles, God invented Hair!
All kinds of heavenly perfumes from the most expensive brands
High heels, shining, bright and neatly designed, they really hate gravity
Contours past the River Nile, artist’s hand find it to paint
Any one would think there is a scarcity of underwear in Kampala
But we love it still, the bliss, the warmth, and the glamour of Kampala
So my good brother, Hold your breath this is Friday
©Ronald K Ssekajja 2014
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
They say love makes the world go ‘round…
But try proposing without a diamond that whispers loud…
Money…
Family dinners full of smiles and fights repressed…
Money…
Cousins showing up at Christmas looking freshly blessed…
Money…
The secret to youth? It’s not kale or prayer…
Money…
Just a surgeon, a syringe, and some derriere repair…
Money…
You want the Nobel? Sure, write your thesis with flair…
Money…
But someone still paid for that tenured chair…
Money…
The kids need books, a laptop, and a chance to dream…
Money…
Also Wi-Fi, tutoring, and a school with steam…
Money…
Evolution gave us fire, but civilization gave us class…
Money…
And the biggest difference between king and ***
Money…
You want to change the world? Start a cause? Break a curse?
Money…
Or you’ll be that guy with vision… and an empty purse…
Money…
Science needs data, equipment, and trust…
Money…
Also snacks for the lab, and a fridge that won’t rust…
Money…
Want to flirt, be adored, radiate that spark?
Money…
Or stay home, scroll apps, and die in the dark…
Money…
Even funerals aren’t free, your last “to-do”…
Money…
Because dying is easy, but burial? Whew…
Money…
So next time someone tells you it isn’t everything…
Money……
So here’s your truth, wrapped neat and funny:
Everything you touch, trust, taste, or tolerate runs on…
Money…
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 3:33 PM UTC
" Not a blemish on her" the man said
as she whooshed by head down
bound for business.
You know the places where you aint feelin it
from my perch,the view is glowing.This is observation sans critique.
I see it the same way, week after week.
Why mess with perfection zall I go to say.
All kiding aside.
Physical is my biz.
here is my physical quiz.
1.How does the high and wide mesh ?
2. Do the legs do more than walk ?
3.Does the mouth do more than talk.
4.Do the sum of the hips and derriere take me somewhere.
5.Do the eyes tell me surprises are in store ?
I am a connoisseur of all things female...yet,a rank amateur.
The insides are a mystery still.A thing leads me to die and ****
To possess to abdicate all will.(See prince Edward and Wallis Simpson).
Or reason.
This is not a statement off kilter.
Nothing needs be said.
Save yer money honey.
Just flash the dimples.
14K.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 9:53 AM UTC