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ArielMarriel Sep 2018
***** words aren’t always hidden
in symbols, are they?

Some poets use words to wound,
and they know my weakness.

The subtle weapon of language.
The tool of a master.

Artfully chosen,
then Drawn like a dagger.

Slaying my attempts
at peace of mind.

Because they know I always
read between the lines.
F#@k it.
Sara Kellie Dec 2018
Every time I pull it off
it goes off in my face.
It's in my eye and
on my lips,
I look a right disgrace.
My ***** though
she loves it so
I do it all the time
and if I feed her
from a tin
I'd feel it was a crime
because she just loves
those sachets
that I can't pull open
without getting
covered in
gravy
flavoured
splashes.

Poetry by Kaydee
What
were
you
thinking!!
gleck May 2016
Let's be tied together.
Give me the suitcase.
I'll give you;
weak knees,
***** sheets,
good dreams,
make you bleed
Take me to your place,
Keep me here forever.
MeanAileen Mar 2017
my ***** secret
moral intoxication...
addicted to him
His touch gets me high
onlylovepoetry Jul 2017
a companion piece to
miniskirts & high heels vs. poetry & yoga^
<•>

a couple of buds at a local dive bar, drinking Buds,
talking loud about technology
and other manly man stuff

attract attention for our conversation isn't bout sports,
get approached by long legs in high heels and a miniskirt,
with the best come on line ever
any woman invented,
"you guys know about computers, huh?"

later after reading twenty or so of her poems,
and learning the degree of difficulty of the
downward facing dog pose
(adho mukha svanasana)
she said:

tell me again how I
clear my cache,
change my font,
add more memory for new memories,
stop auto correct from making wont into want,
so I can happy write


"wont thy thoughts to my heart thereof"

so I obliged and then
the geek in meek wrote
his first poem

after first clearing the catch  
in his throat
Arke Jun 2018
I walk through my room
touch each book on my shelf
thinking of you in the shower
touching yourself

With an open book, I wish
these pages were your skin
I'd caress each one until
our narrative could begin

with your hand on my knee
and your lips on my wrist
I'll beg for you to take me
in our sweet summer tryst

your fingers trail lines
up and down my thigh
until I can bear it no longer
my lips produce a shaky sigh

a hitch in my breath
as I become wet and ready
and you'll push into me
keeping me steady

and whisper the filth
of all you'd like to do
tell me I'm beautiful
watch my pages unglue

and all my bindings break
and all the books shatter
leaflets fly through the room
you always knew how to flatter

and when my daydream cracks
alone, hour after hour
wondering if you think of me
when you're in the shower...
All I ever write is **** now, thanks.
Josh Nov 2017


Absorbing dust and Golden heat,
living more openly than I do,
he shimmies to Billie Holiday

The year is not 1957, though
he lives in a San Francisco fog
longing to play the piano

The time in not 11:57pm, though
he orders a ***** martini & swims
in the fishbowl bay

Escaping to Telegraph Hill
to drink moonlight jazz & vermouth
he pretends to live

Way back when

*
I haven't wrote a poem in 2 years!
Did you just call me ****?
How blind could you be?
Don't you know that I got God inside of me?
Tell me dear....
So, full of pride and so focused on your youthful looks.
How much makeup?
How much pride?
How many people?
Will be at your side,
When you close your eyes for the last time.
Tried to be **** at times myself.
Those ideas blew up in my face.
Got a lot of regret debts
anchored down in the valleys of the wrinkles on my face.
Did you know I used to have abs?
Not anymore.
One day I heard my stomach having a private conversation,
with gravity.
Gravity said, 'Winning!'
Took my abs away.
Gave me arthritis and a fever in its place.
I **** so much.
I swear someone has a gun to my ***.
It is so ****** up,
when the pistol starts to cry and laugh.
I need a walker most of the time.
I guess the only crime I committed was staying alive.
Yeah, I am old.
So, what! I made it this far.
Take your *** on and be thankful for who you are.
You don't know how good you got it.
You can still get around,
Without leaving fun size Hersey bars behind on the ground.
'Hey, old dude, what Hersey bars are you referring to you?  The thing I see behind you are chocolate bars,
With corn toppings.
The old man starts to laugh.
The young lady says, 'Do you mean to tell me that you *******, while you were talking to me this whole time?
The young lady began to puke.
'Baby, I didn't **** on myself. My *** did all the work. I haven't been able to control my bladder for a few months now. Here is a tissue for your mouth though?'
'Did you just hand me your depends?' The young lady said.
'Yep! These Depends never judge me and makes me feel very special.'
The young lady walks away, as she continues to puke.
The old guy says, 'She is so slow. I thought that she would have given me my Depends diaper back.
'Uh oh! What am I going to doo-do in now? That girl stole my Depends!

(C) Copyrighted
A poem on aging.
zebra May 2016
look at those utters
now do as i say
your gaze melts my *****
**** my **** all day

your really pretty
i will love your ***
i dont mind if its ******
what i would do for your *****

You may be the *****
but i love your feet
i could kiss them all day
aren't they sweet

so your the *****
and im the master
come lick my ***
can you do it faster

i will ******* and hurt you
when ever i please
ill stick my **** inside you
i dont like a tease

i love yourl *******
more then i can stand
i could lick it all day
it never taste bland

i want it up
i want it down
if i cant have it
i get a frown

it taste so good
i never get enough
i eat it up
better then a cream puff

if something comes out of it
i really don't mind
i love caviar
but not in a jar

its truly religious
could it be god
incredibly delicious
i know it sounds odd

your ******* is cute
it sends me to bliss
can i prey to it
what about ****

oh yeah i love **** to
i kiss it all night
yummy yum goo
you say its real tight

ok ***** and toes
now im in tears
god i love subs
especially whoes

yes i love ankles
o my lord i love feet
kiss then 4 ever
aren't they sweet

when i see ****
my **** gets so hard
i like them all sizes
but i don't need a yard

then comes the men-strum
for only 3 days
its my very favorite time
i love it always

if your a lady
and don't give it up
and get all ******
go get a pup

if you don't think so
i wont be around
i love ***** *****
all tied and bound

so come to me sub
i love you i do
lets go to bed
i wana ******* :)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
mc ish Jun 2018
***** hands,
doing beautiful works,
are still *****?
dimming at the rapture
i cannot get the words expressed.
i hope to one day find an ounce of your being in someone else,
someone who is allowed to love with all they have.
someone not held back by society or circumstance.
but for now, i lie dormant at your doorstep,
hoping for the chance to let you see anything you’d like to,
take apart my very mind and keep the pieces that will keep me in your sight.
our ***** hands are not allowed to touch,
lest we create a spark so bright
they dare to put us out.
these hands make for a lovely soul, yearning to walk upwards without change of self.
our ***** hands are not the ones in need of cleansing,
our love is not the one in need of changing.
you and i, we are the ones who love with all we have,
we are the ones happy to suffer at the ends of the earth in order to give those we long for freedom.
love is accepted in the form of begging and lies,
coercing and exasperated sighs,
throwing things and vicious rendezvous,
“he just likes you!”
yet
our ***** hands can’t too be swept by ****’s mighty flood?
when some of the world’s greatest creations came from the mud.
js Apr 2016
I don't think about you anymore —
like an over-washed
shirt.

Faded.

Dull.

Stained and
torn.

Worn out.

Tired.

Used through time, and
used from
use.

I've used you too many times.

I’ve revisited your memory too much.

I'll keep you in my closet

like my worn, tired
faded
old shirt,

hidden, until there is
nothing else
to wear.
Fritzi Melendez Jul 2018
We stare deep into each others eyes.
Hand in hand as you hover over my body.
You close your eyes.
And give me a kiss.
I cant get enough of this.
The sweetness in your lips.
The passion in your eyes.
I want to savor the taste of honey.
I can only imagine what other flavors will come by.
I fly close to the clouds.
And I attempt to touch the sky.
But...
You pull away
And
Take a breath
And
Smile.
A sweet smile but...
There’s something underneath
Behind his perfect white teeth...
A smile so sinister,
I can barely muster
The courage to just pin you to the bed,
As you lick me deeply while I hold your head.
But I stay still,
An innocent soul,
Greeted by beautiful sins tied with a bow.
Who knew being bad was so much fun?
I close my eyes as your fingers run
All over my body.
Leaving its mark.
I'm your territory now.
Do what you want.
Hold me down, break me in half, **** me until I lose my mind.
Make my brain shake and turn my eyes blind.
From rolling them so far back as I take you in.
It’s so good, I don't feel human.
It all feels deliciously foreign.
I feel like an uncontrollable,
Untamed,
Unafraid,
Savage monster.
But...
I want more
I keep... wanting...
More.
I can't... take this anymore.
Please, make me your *****.
I don’t know what to think or do.
My body just wants to become a **** for you.
For your eyes only to listen,
And your ears only to hear.
As you whisper I love you and as you make me fear.
Fear of stopping this two person ride.
I can feel you slip slowly inside.
I let out soft moans.
But with this I shouldn’t have loaned.
You take the advantage to hear me so vulnerable.
You pound me into something unrecognizable.
Everything in me is breaking.
I'm a chaotic mess.
But I’m also falling
In love with this moment, in love with you,
in love of feeling like we are one too.
****** my hair and whisper me your dark desires.
I'm crazy for it, it’s making my heart catch on fire.
Make me yours,
Make me your *****,
Don’t even try to save
Me, just do what you want to see.
Keep me locked in your rib cage, don’t let me free.
No don’t stop,
I'm not crying,
I'm just insane.
Insane for your touch and for your thoughts in your brain.
This is so good, I  feel like I'm going to heaven.
You leave my legs shaking with ecstasy,
My ******* moving to your rhythm.
This primal **** overtakes me.
I am talking so *****.
I can't even think anymore
**** this entire rhyme scheme,
Deeper
Harder
Faster
Give everything to me.
Let our minds go crazy.
Explicit content warnings forgotten.
Take me in.
Make me...
Forever yours.
mindless, breathless, weightless...
girl gonzo Oct 2018
morning dew drops on your collar
impressing me with the zealous way the seasons drastically measure the moment it takes me
to reach forwards and brush it off
liquid winter falling onto a ***** cement
the initials 'F T' written jaggedly into the cold stone of asphalt
i wait for it to disappear, for the flicker of everything gone to fade from my vision
but it passes too quickly
i look back up and there's no one around
the street is empty and the capricious wind has ceased
a sucker for patterns i walk into a fabric store and feel my hand linger on the erratic linens
fingers paused on the peach organza sprawled like a pink bubblegum sea
and i am swept into the manic fantasies of wearing the sheer tissue-like textile into
the abdomen of your sweaty palm and sinking like a sticky sweet stripe
until you put your hand in your pocket and i spend a year inside melting
into the every thread and curve of your jean until it is nothing but disgusting sugar
everything i could be when i am hidden from sight in the dark caverns of denim pants
who knew the tongue in cheek joke would be nothing but my tongue in your mouth
touching all the way up your gums  
find me sweltering beneath the uvula wondering if i could go back
to the time i found that girl with the mountain logo sweatshirt who whistled between her teeth and hummed all the reasons i should skin my knee and kiss the salty wound because there's no greater pleasure than knowing you don't have to wait for that morning dew drop to fall from their ******* collar
You was like,
need your help...
I was: Yes,


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


EAT MY BISCUITS!
u V p
***(K)

Those my biscuits,
Ban-dana Jean...
my comely soap.


(k) NIGHTED

Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

You want to be an "activist?"  Go live on the streets..Ben Franklin lived on the streets, Karl Marx did also, Davy Crockett, come play with nothing.
clever Aug 2018
The blood of many, the salt stained pink
A girl sitting pretty on the brink
And, inhibitions aside, a body to sink
Jo Swan Sep 2018
A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
People say blood is thicker than water
Yet your thunderous voice screams at me
Does daddy cherish his daughter?
So why can’t your eyes open and see
You’ve become a Mein Kampf tyrant?
You want my obedience and silence!

A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
As it leaves a residue of disgust
Must this be our memory?
Though silent my heart feels unjust-
Must you **** all my energy;
Leave me to feel lost and astray
As mental state starts to decay

A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
Will your anger subside and be quiet?
Fear suffocates vulnerable heart;
Wrathful words ready for a riot;
Confidence crushed as it’s torn apart.
Verbal abuse moves like a torrent flood,
Affecting those who share the same blood!

(c) 2018 Joanne Chang
This is dedicated to the silent victims of emotional and verbal abuse. Words can heal or harm a person's spirit. Home is meant to be a safe haven but unfortunately not everbody can feel loved and cherished in their own home.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
come if you're thirsty, come if you're stained
come if you're weary, come if you're pained
come to the water, the bread and the blood
come to Christ's soul-saving covenant flood
there's no one too *****, no one too poor
no one too broken whose faith He'll ignore
come if you hear Jesus calling your name
come to be free of all guilt and all shame
come if you're willing to cast out old strife
come lay your burden and take up new life
Bellissima May 13
My time will die
in ***** hands
searching for love in things
that shed no light.
*d i r t y*
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
A Queen in waiting, a Princess no less.
Each day, a routine before being seen.
For some, a shadow and not of the eye.
The kind you'd find on that of a guy.
An army of pogonophobes in dysphoric confusion.
Each purging our wardrobes,
a repeated delusion.

A leading *******
from a pornographic circus.
The ***** under graduate from
a school of *** workers.
Your Hubby's vision in blue
is our secret down south,
'cause he wouldn't kiss you with
that ***** mouth.

So I'll stop you there Sizzle Chest,
with your cans of Stella
in your pristine white vest,
'cause this is real easy,
even for you Mr ******.

I used to be a Princess but
now I'm a Queen,
recently coronated
after all that I've seen.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Hazy musings from a land of candy pink
are the dreams of a Princess.
I'm grinding
and the dirt
I'm grinding
and the dirt
I'm grinding
and the dirt


And I don't
understand?

I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

please help me,


"The clawed hand is not for shaking,
although it has amazing grip."
-zₑᵤₛ



"Eat a pork shoulder
dusted in granite powder...
dash of cumen, a salty pinch
you'll get over it."
-ᴾᵉˡᵒᵖˢ

                                                  

    ­                                              "He is a porky one isn't she?" -ᴱʳᶦˢ




Betty, uh, Ms. Page,
didn't it bother you?

"Bother me?"

Well you know,
being a person of God,
-doing those things for money?

"Silly, I do what I do
BECAUSE I AM a believer!"
-ᴮᵉᵗᵗʸ ᴾᵃᵍᵉ
to be determined May 2018
cigarette smoke clogs her arteries
twelve packs a week
bleeding teeth and nails dawdle in her broken hallucinations
the cloud of harsh chemicals mask the iron in dust
it coats her tongue and hands and feet
the minerals latch onto the crevasses of her flesh
refusing to relinquish their rightful territory
she knows all of this
all it took was ages in a bathtub
overcome with mildew
for their stubborn tendencies to become evident
she's since abandoned attempting to scrub the brine away
this poem has been published in The Gifted Penman's Poetry Collection: Volume One
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