"devilishly" poems
‘tis but a thing she does
The female assassin
They say that poison is her weapon… maybe on occasion
But that is a level she’s surpassing
You see, what they fail to understand is that she doesn't take lives for vengeance
‘tis but a profession
The beautiful, tantalizing female killer
Her male victim’s obsession
One minute she’s a runway model… with her devilishly sinful grin
A smile so engrossingly enticing… full, red lips that cut across her face playfully
Against her flawlessly peaceful skin
One word for that…’killer’
Forbidden pleasures… blissful sin
She’s taken out big names… maybe even one or two heads of state
To dinners she’s escorted these men… and later on left them in their deadest state
She walks through the front door, but when leaving she can scale windows
Agility is her forte… ‘Man killer’ she is
The black widow…
In a red dress
You may be reading this thinking you can never fall prey to her seductive tentacles
‘tis an argument I do not even wish to get into
I digress.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
in her devilishly shy
is a wild
lips of crimson creams
eyes deep waters blue
candlelight breathes promise into her warmth
the way she holds me tells me shes mine
but moonlight dances with her beauty
without her night would seem so vain
evenings magic at her fingertips
and with its she paints such pretty pictures
dancefloor with a sea of stars
a beach with the gentle sea
meadows with summer sun
such pretty things
are just a happiness that she finds in rainstorms
are just a beauty of living that she finds in my arms
safe and warm
in her devilishly shy
she is a wild
lips of crimson creams just for me
skin willin' and soft neath my hand
and the way she holds me tells me she is mine
in her devilishly shy
i see the naughty girl smiling
and i want to take her right there
in a wild way
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
Where the sunlight splashes through
The barely moving branches of the Magnolia tree
It makes a fascinating pattern on the patio.
Amy Lowell wrote of patterns in a lovely, angry verse
When she was writing about how she hated war.
I bend to trace the patterns with my toe
And focus on the possibilities of now
With monster canons rolling down the boulevards
And goose-step imitators marching by
While in the stands a devilishly evil Buddha smiles.
A zephyr gently stirs the leaves
And all the patterns rearrange again
I look at them with half closed eyes
And I can’t find the symmetry
That I saw just an hour ago.
The Kraken still is held by chains
And though he gushes fire and venom
The patterns on the wall contain him
As he thrashes to replace the sun
With a new one of his own creation.
Amy walked a peaceful garden path
In dappled sunlight long ago
Creating lines that live today.
I trundle down a brick-lined walk
And hope that I will have tomorrow.
ljm
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
I need only to smirk and you’re mine
Anytime
If it’s god that you want
I have dozens in mind
Devilishly divine
Bending time like a grandeur delusional
Spine
In a mad hatter ectoplas-mystical slime
A prismatic drug addict’s first nursery rhyme
Of accursed hearse verses of graphic design
Now to lay to rest intellect spectacles musing
Of selves glorified more than those of my choosing
To deify Destiny’s
Deathly serenity
Plentifully sending me vibrant surprises
And penning my ending in violent demises
Disguises surmised by the climate arises
Girl always there riding my similar waves
As I try to save face digging mechanized graves
But the cloud tentacles
To the depths
Drag me down
To demented ascension
Black holes in the ground
Where disciples of light
And my huntress in white
Vivify me by day
Resurrect me at night
To instruct and deduct
Reasoning in a state
Of a being supreme
Contemplating its fate
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
Rip open my insides and devour my flesh. I'm a caged spirit begging to heal. Taste my venom and eternity will be yours. Sin can be so devilishly juicy. Play my strings like a violin. I'll return the favor as I strum your guitar. Let us levitate for a while. Euphoria is right around the corner.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
turning her charms so slow.
he smiles,
in the wetness of his reward
cranking and cranking!
winding her in notch after notch
tormenting her to madness.
all her dreams melt into him
as his promised shards hit deep
****** after ******
his jagged edge cuts to bleed
her mind and body
leading her to a valley of darkness
bellows and cries
relentlessly in her crescent moon
the moans swelling
from the corners of her abyss
he stabs wildly
in the glare of her darkshine
leaving the streaks of fingerprints
across her window pane
devilishly in his detail of precision
distorting her pleasure in pain
the legs of her willingness spread wide
her Innocence weeps nectar
tears from the depths of her
obscene layers of unseen obsession
unfold the heated flower
of her awaken phoenix-fire
tightening the gaps of her resistances
enraging his beast to survival
forcing his fight for freedom
thrashing away
his ***** courage leading the way
she finally surrenders
to his death blows
in total disregard in retaliation
she strikes a venomous bite
to his throat and lips
her poisonous kiss
their last breath shares
perspiration's sweet scent of exhaustion
as their life force drains to one
from their lust of the battle
in their pursuit to win the war of passion
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 12:57 PM UTC
over 18 adult ****** content
Admitted?
There they go again at it like there’s no tomorrow
Maybe they know something we don’t
Listen to her shriek and scream while they ****
And I hear their bed collapse as he jumps from the wardrobe
The crack of a bullwhip is there connecting to naked flesh
I pity but envy what they’re doing pleasure with pain
They’re both sharing a journey together while I’m alone
I want to join them before the world ends
All they can say is No right?
Maybe I’ll be admitted and feel their whip
And get to *** inside his mistress
It’s better than watching old TV reruns
I’ll put on my t shirt and shorts then call round
I feel desire and list my **** is hard as I hear
His mistress devilishly shout and scream
I want some of that fun right now
I knock on their door and wait…
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 10:32 PM UTC
Was ever there a plague
Quite like uncertainty?
Where yes would be preferred,
No would not prove absurd,
For the matter would be done,
While now it hangs unsung.
To toss and fret so long
Is devilishly wrong.
Such ambiguity
Can whittle sanity.
How nothing proves deadly
Quite like uncertainty.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 3:35 PM UTC
The night was comfortable,
branches lightly choreographed a dramatic reaction
to the conversation beneath…
spoken words breach the midnight hour by 2,
and words are in place of sleep.
They speak,
but still pretend to have something worth to keep
In silence now, no reaction.
Walls and thoughts collide
and they see the infraction.
In a quick succession of contact,
blood boils
intuition becomes submissive.
With the steam of these midnight hours
rises away
the taboos of love and loyalty,
as intoxication devours
any human decency.
Breathing softly now;
with eyes that berate the truth
hiding behind the midnight-hour lies,
they instigate innocent massage wars
desperately wanting
neither knowing
how they plunge underneath
these unbreakable ties.
Now speechless
they grasp one another
speaking devilishly with eyes
and even louder
with the toils of their hands.
Why do you run from surreptitious lies
and hide behind your eyes?
Say this is how you feel for one thing
then when it’s around
wear a disguise?
Helpless you act
toward desires that you conspire to
You lit the match
and now you must put out the fire.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
Let my lips trail across the soft, white surface of your skin
And straight down the tender bridge that is your spine
Allow my fingers to massage your body with pleasure
Unlocking the secrets of your dirtiest, lustful fantasies
The sweet, **** screams light my soul on fire
All sources of speech vanquish into thin air
My tongue drinks from the river of Hell's kitchen
Intensifying your castle of steamy, hot dreams
Gently I ****** each spot with caution
For each spot is dangerously tender
One slick touch of pressure and from her
Will erupt a ****** volcano
I whisper to her in devilishly, fancy tones
She whispers back in sensually, sacred moans
With no hesitation I move in for one final kiss
Our tongues rub each other sparking our taste buds
Birthing a marvelous ocean of ecstasy
By Glenn McCrary
© 2011 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:54 AM UTC
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords
Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards
Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise
Of the tit-less toys
The dick-less boys
Enraptured in the music
The anthem
Of invidious phantoms
My eyes hurt inside and
I want to pull them out and
Scrape out the gunk and rust
that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance
so I can cry
for the first time in years…
Wrapping my hands around his slender torso
Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so
Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges
To bite what emerges
And my mouth purges
The obelisk from underneath
The iron-pierced jester
The voracious molester
My hand tightens as I grip
his throat tighter and
I want to squeeze until his eyes pop
from his sockets and
laugh until I puke against the walls,
watching the ****** fluids mix
like an execrable marinara sauce…
I turned thirty while still being sixteen
The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams
But none of mine, none that I can recall
Many years have passed since I took the oral fall
Where no one saw
Intransigent need to live
For the snake in my veins hungered for more
So many had their way
until I was limp and sore.
Defamatory fingers of mire and strife
Probing and stretching
My insides
And devilishly comforting
With limpid ambrosia
That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing
And fruit
Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over
Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions
That fracture, crack, morph, distort
Emphasize, marginalize
Rationalize, desensitize
Acts of *********** evasion, moral drainage;
Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings;
Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes,
Love, lust, infatuation
Adoration
Boys, girls, women, men,
Angels, demons, monsters, humans
Creators, gods, titans, divas
All extended and limited from the minds that worship
Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify
While humans eat more, love more, **** more
Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans
We ponder and cherish
Nevermore, for me
Ever lore, for all
Crows surround
And chaos found.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
I'm perfectly imperfect
That's what they always say
I'm crookedly straight
But I'm far from gay
I forever speak my mind
Always and all day
My heart is on my sleeve
But guarded all the same
I'm devilishly innocent
My mind is not so tame
I'm dishonestly truthful
But never take the blame
I'm completely backwards
We can never be the same
To me upwards is downwards
The sky's my only ground
Your life I can still ruin
It is with in my bounds
I'm depressingly happy
There is no middle ground
My version of earth is flat...
Why should it be round?
My earth is a work of art
With colours everywhere
Your world I broke and ripped apart
Just to prove I don't fit there
I tore it up in little bits
I left the pieces without a care
I'm completely backwards
I'm such a major scare
I'm nationally local
You can see me all the time
I can disappear into thin air
Leaving you without a rhyme
For I'm melodically harmonious
No brighter than the dullest shine
I'm incomprehensibly real
And yet so hard to find
Pure white to me is simple black
Race is gone and can't come back
I can prove all that I am
A thing to which you surely lack
I'm disrespectfully respectful
My words are always fact
I'm completely backwards
I'll drive you past insane
Then I'll never bring you back
I'm illegally legal
Like a drug that you can't sell
I'm contrastingly bendable
In this world of my own hell
I'm resistingly irresistible
My secrets you will never tell
I'm obscenely lovable
In this world in which I fell
I landed in this twisted place
A world of expectations
This world I created on my own
For I'm an undertone of exaggeration
Here I've found my only home
In a backwards world of my creation
And all in all I'm here to say
"I'm completely backwards
In every single way"
Sep 10, 2009
Sep 10, 2009 at 12:49 PM UTC
I want you
to make love
to me
Kiss me, ****** me
Make love to me
everywhere
Until
I just fall on my knees
And let me worship
your each part
Waiting
to viciously devour
your frilly pink pie
Your face now has
That look
So divinely ****
Or call it
devilishly seductive
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Peace, my steel-eyed friend,
You are ever present,
Yet eternally elusive.
Devilishly tugging away at my silken heartstrings,
You play,
Tease my fragile soul.
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
I'm bad, I'm a devilishly slimy man,
with wicked and vile intentions,
and a infernal and hellish plan.
Corruptive and pervasive, and all together sick,
unholy and despicable with ugly hellish wit.
A genius in sheep's clothing, a devil in disguise,
my words are sweet as honey but I'm planning your demise.
You'll never see it coming, in your mind I'm your best friend,
like adding sugar to a meal, it'll taste sweeter in the end.
I'll see your face in shock,
that I would have stabbed you so,
I'll grin a evil grin and stare into your soul.
your blood will spit and spurt,
and I'll watch it with such glee,
and all the while you'll know
it was all because of me.
you'll finally breathe your last,
it will fill me with such joy;
to know that you never knew
that you were simply just my toy.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
This terrible beating, a soundless roar that I
wear like worry. Caught in lace and sequin,
you stupid pretty thing.
Heart, you are so
devilishly ugly.
You make me awful and needful.
A trouble, an aching break that
never healed right.
Pitchfork and shrapnel jacket, a barbed wire
beauty.
I am disastrous and made of weeds. A hungry throat that
only knows
swallow.
Go on sky,
pour. The art of breath and walk,
of continue,
of live.
Of lust for better.
Awake a sugar glass
soul made tender.
I am great care, building scaffoldings between fistfight and belonging.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
I just want to put my lips on you.
I want you to feel what my kiss feels like against your skin.
You're beautiful on the out and you're
Beautiful on the in
Beautiful
Like a sun kissed beach in the dead of winter,
Like a leech
I will shed you of your skin and **** you down to the ocean and encourage you to swim
Dive in.
Like Trey Songz, but you're sexier.
The *** will be messier
-because I'm so attracted to you
Linguistically attached to you-
Borderline infatuated
Suspended in poetic serenity.
I just want to put my lips on you.
I want you to feel what my kiss feels like against your skin.
I want to worship you in places that God would surely tell me were unholy and forever-more my temple will be barricaded with sin
And I'll tell God,
Tonight, I am not Christian.
Tonight, I want to make devilishly passionate love to you
Tonight
You will feel my lips against your skin.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
I have to write a poem.
So I said I'd write a poem.
A poem about my a friend, a friend...I've never met.
One that I know.
Not a symbolic friend, but a friend that really exist.
She's somewhere in the world, yes I know where, exactly, not the street, but the distant land they live.
I may not know the true presence they give off if I were there in person.
But I know enough to know that they are dear to me!
I could go beyond to say that they are if not one of the best of any person I have ever come upon.
Maybe meeting the way we did was the best way for us to meet.
Being able to give our all; right at the starting gate.
No, worries of being frowned at, especially since most of the time we can't see each others faces.
But that doesn't matter I see so much more than the strangers in her life.
Even more than most friends will ever see.
I get to see what matters, and that means the world.
She maybe some what crazy, and most of the time fairly lame, really she is super super lame
But the lameness is what is so nice to see, since I am the same way.
Talking to her, 'hmm how can I explain for you to understand.'
Calming kinda like the ocean breeze, or relaxing on a devilishly sunny clear sky day.
Everything else is kinda blurred out, left to right nothing, but silence and peace.
Even if our insides are beaten up, and someone is sore from kayaking.
I think the knowledge that there really is someone else that cares,
even if they too don't have a picture of me on some wall.
I know that they are willing to try to make me happy and that says so much more.
They may never be able to give me a shoulder to lean on,
but their words will always be there to pick me back up.
They're my friend and I can't thank them enough.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
But how else can one explain,
More or less, with disdain,
Frolicking with your oppressors?
Taking selfies with suited emperors?!
At a loss for how quickly we forget,
The many tyrannical years of enslavement,
The ****** of the motherland on a budget,
Killing brilliant minds for continued enthronement;
And fifty-eight years down the poverty line,
Not one thing learned at all,
Only to bow, grovel and crawl,
To a shameless monarchy, cruel and devilishly serpentine.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
I wish that we could talk longer,
but I know you need your sleep.
I know you think you're boring
but I think your words are deep.
I love reading your stories
and often anticipate the next,
I fear mine aren't as entertaining
but you listen, nevertheless.
I think of you a lot
especially after our good nights,
My devilishly handsome husband,
you're the best part of my life.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
I was an extrovert
Before I unraveled the mystery behind the sugar dipped smiles
Before I analysed the well spoken lies;
Before i discovered the hypocrisy of a good gesture
Before I learnt about the phony luxuries pleasures;
Before I heard the tale of overrated love
Before I saw the laugh devilishly hiding the hurt;
Before I noticed the dishonesty of scared friendships
Before I pictured the fate of shallow relationships.
I was an extrovert!
For I believed in expressed words!
For I never felt
The calm peace experienced by an introvert.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 12:24 PM UTC
If you could be anything I'd like you to be an ice cream sundae.
Layered to perfection.
A picture perfect representation of how I see you.
Extra fudge drenched from each edge of the bowl.
Scandalous, the way you'd lay.
Extra cherries sitting on top of your head.
How devilishly **** that would be.
Inviting ourselves to be selfish with no end to how many
spoonfuls we'd take of each other.
Quenching need with melted thirst.
Devoured in everlasting bliss.
The lips that long to taste every inch of you.
Until the bowl is no more
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 1:05 PM UTC
First impression, first date.
You come late, a major sin in your own lexicon,
tango dancing redesigns your hair to curls atwitter,
despite remedial ministrations in taxi,
you text apologies profuse en route,
but you have been outed, and
I am charmingly amused
A warm December eve,
a local Italian eatery,
table by the window,
red wine floes melt your defenses,
allowances made, you're intrigued,
enjoying our dinner of
charming amusements
But really you like my understated swagger.
I like that you like my understated swagger.
Walk home armed, arm in arm,
your paintings I must come see,
Immediately (!),
You offered this as desert, instead of biscotti,
a tour of your new apartment, sleek/simple,
messaging that this is me,
if you ever want to be invited to stay
Inspection over, my smile is a knowing
that this first foray deserves a concessionary accolade,
So in a mode so gallant at the front door,
Adieu you are bid, and devilishly clever,
I merely shake you hand,
leaving you delighted by this gallant, modern,
charming amusement
Looking at my watch, three and half hours
have passed.
Maintaing that in your ways set,
Early on, I challenge your rigidity,
Turning your hair from curly,
Into spun straight Rapunzel gold liquidity,
By asking politely, humbly, on bended knee,
You give in happily,
Charmed, amused at my ferocious insistence
Looking at my watch,
I too, am delighted, charmed, amused, to discover,
It seems my watch is running slow,
For it is now three and a half years later
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Carefully caressing your cheek
Fretting fiercely over fig cake
Greeting gracefully
Gorging gloriously
Happily humming hyms heroically
While finishing fig cake ferociously
Starting in p ending in y
Plainly pointing the position
The poppies placed with percision
Deliciously devilishly delightful
Boy! Fig cake filled me up...
Sitting, satiating sizable crumbs
Placed on the poppy plate
Suddenly the slightest smell sinks my sore eyes
I decided to rise to go to bed
Ahhhhhh....
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
You were born open, I believe,
Eyes and heart and arms and soul;
Shouting and blazing a fiery path
Of beats and drums and rhythms.
Your energy knows no limitations,
Dancing with devilishly hoofed desire;
Savouring each moment of the day -
You make it work for you.
If and would and should are redundant,
When and how and now are yours;
Give and take, have, hold, make:
Present presence, gifts to gaze at in wonder.
A joker, of unbridled passion:
Intense, good-humoured, a heart heavy with joy -
And full of light -
The youngest of men.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 12:28 PM UTC