"erections" poems
a curved pastry
like a prune danish
in a sway
a weaving kiss
anointed by a melting stick of butter,
pushed and puddled
deep and slow
the shape of a heart
with a hole in the middle
ooow dark fig
stinking rose
a comfort that sweetens with the grace of form
and pops like a trigger releasing a bullet
i covet
with eyes like erections
pants sticky wet
hot glue factory
for you love, my *** angel
red skin girl gaping
with circular yearning set in motion
tarnished petal mix meister
sinful hot house
for quaking tongue and lips,
a wild cherry *** kisser
spiked ***** blushing
lord of ****
solar ******* hero
flexed and oiled
to the rescue
a god send
triumphant and blessed
looks like a fast cigarette boat
hitting the speed bumps hard
she said yes please
dip like
nautilus of the black sea
What?
no loitering
no parking
not a through street
haahaahaa
****
that
****
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Can I be graced by a kiss from your aura,
Does the same feeling reside deep down inside,
We’ve been separated for so long my friend,
It scares me to see you like this,
Abrupt erections long gone,
The insecurity of prolonged exposure,
Sequences of nausea,
Seek and destroy,
The sickening of the tunnel vision,
How strange it seems now,
To look back at you,
How amazing it is,
To be myself again,
Made different by time,
The same ****** hole,
The singular aspect of oneness,
The grand expanse seemed so small,
Ironically,
Now seems to drag on with the whistles and clangs,
The bangs the song the spiral never ends.
Somewhere a part of my innocence was left behind,
Left to wither in the shared tunnel,
The smell of the air expelled made the hairs
In my nostrils stand on end and dissolve.
Now that I think about where I came from,
What happened to me to this point,
I’m happy it didn’t end so soon,
That I’ve been reunited,
Drawing a conclusion doesn’t seem so difficult,
When the beginning is just around the corner.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
Health teacher
blindly reading off the slides
of a powerpoint.
"Don't Have *** Kids!"
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
"Abstinence"
Perhaps if they took a break
from the negativity.
Perhaps if they stood back
and realized that
gasp
preaching abstinence isn't the solution.
The only reason for the
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
is that they don't teach us
how to practice *** safely.
They make no mention of
Condoms
Diaphragms
Pills
They tell you over and over again
that if you have ***
there will be children
there will be ***
there will be ******
They make no mention of anything
other than the cis straight white vanilla ***
they leave the ********
off of all the diagrams of vaginas
out of fear that maybe a woman could
gasp
******
Preposterous!
They preach victim blaming.
They tell the girls
to stay sober
to never put your drink down
long pants
turtlenecks
Instead of teaching the boys
to keep their erections in their pants.
to treat women like humans
that no means no
she is not an object
she did not "deserve it"
she didn't owe you anything.
Ignorance isn't bliss
and Abstinence isn't safety.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
I wake up in the morning and put on a pretty dress,
My goal is to stun, amaze, and impress.
I make it about halfway through school without fuss,
But around 5th period I’m written up because cleavage isn’t a must.
I’m getting punished for my own set of double D’s,
Because the men around me get erections from a passing breeze.
If kids in high school can’t control themselves,
Why should I be the one punished for my huge shelves?
Why are men not taught to respect women,
But I am told I look slutty once again?
You’d think boys would be more than their ***** by this time,
But as of now cleavage is still a crime.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.
A man who writes knows too much,
such spells and fetiches!
As if erections and congresses and products
weren't enough; as if machines and galleons
and wars were never enough.
With used furniture he makes a tree.
A writer is essentially a crook.
Dear love, you are that man.
Never loving ourselves,
hating even our shoes and our hats,
we love each other, precious, precious.
Our hands are light blue and gentle.
Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
But when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.
6.7k
One day
Woke up feeling randy
No one else was handy
What's to do?
Get dressed
Satisfy the horn
With badly acted ****
On pay per view
Hopes sink
Cable's on the blink
But twitter lends a helping hand
Bang, bang, come and have a gang bang
Gain entrance on demand
Have a gang bang
Come and have a gang bang
It's a gang bang
Come and have a gang bang
Went out
Followed the directions
Battling erections
All the while
Red cheeks
Granny at the bus stop
Let her vision drop
Then cracked a smile
Half four
Knocking at the door
It opens and a voice proclaims
"Bang, bang, come and have a gang bang
We've far too many dames"
The host was a sight to see
Not far over seventy
And wrapped in a silk dressing gown
I thought I would walk away
But saw that the sky was grey
And it star-
-ted *******
It down
Stepped in
Blinded by a deep gloom
Ushered to a dark room
Curtains shut
Deep breath
Air is old and musty
Carpet feeling crusty
Underfoot
Sprawled there
Women lying bare
And fellas with their organs free
Bang, bang, cover up your **** ****
Regain your decency
Pretty gang bang
Pretty ****** gang bang
****** gang bang
Pretty ****** gang bang
Look round
Writhing on the ground
With squishy little sounds
But something's odd
Fat lass
Itching at her *** crack
Isn't that a ball sack?
Oh my god!
Jaw drops
Granny from the bus stop
Wearing nothing but a grin
Bang, bang, pretty ****** gang bang
What ******* let her in?
She's nothing but skin and bone
With ribs like a xylophone
At least several decades too old
To use the vernacular
It's like bumming Dracula
She's wiry
She's wizened
She's cold
Oh (pretty) no ******
Rasping on my ****
With fingers like a sock
Filled up with ice
No (scary) chance (hairy)
Giving her the slip
My todger's in a grip
Just like a vice
It (saggy) seems (baggy)
Like she's in a dream
While scraping with her ancient hand
Bang, bang, ****** ****** gang bang
My sore and swollen gland
Granny bang bang
Granny granny gang bang
Granny gang bang
Granny ***** gang bang
Knock, knock
Coppers at the door
Go crawling on the floor
And off at speed
What fun
Looking at the punters
Myriad of munters
As they flee'd
Cold, wet
Drowning in regret
With trousers round my knees I stand
Bang bang ****** ****** gang bang
Next time I'll use my hand
Bang bang ****** ****** gang bang
Next time I'll use my haaaaaaaaaaaaaaand!
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 3:00 AM UTC
the child's house
domicile of estrangements
his parents dressed him like a little girl
against his will
a pox of gender confusion
glum aura
he ascended by violence
and lived through the logic of a mirage
except for copulating with demons
which of course
was ruined by
the good Christians
they who always hate ***
not wanting to be reminded
they are animals too
their heaven withheld
their halo's sullied
the vulnerability of desire their crime
Eros a disgrace
still beating their genitals until a wicked thunder
the pro-creative
an affirmation of paradox
between the continuity of life
and the dread of death
***** resurrections
a second *******
**** flood
without redemption
Satan standing on their necks
while God pulls them up by their hair
rebels to reason
bewitchers of wit
deranged by the myth
of dolls
wood and plastic painted corpses staring
and a blossom throated Goddess
ham handed monkey fist
jerking off in search of a bulls eye anyway
eyes bleeding on bare legs; lifting a white cotton dress
a bulwark of erections
like canons blasting puce spats
under his frilly skirt; a red rain
haunted by dead girls dancing
like homeless hip bones sway
a bewildered phantasm
in a doll house dream
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
it’s a wild life
of magic and tales
of light and radiance
dreams and darkness
*firebird, firebird
will you bring it all for me?
firebird, firebird
will you transform all things for me?*
what we dreamt yesterday
was once reality, what we never imagined
is current, and eats us day by day
desires fade and palaces appear
demons roar, and sirens kiss us
and induce ******* and bless us with erections
*firebird, firebird
let all whispers come real
firebird, firebird, firebird
let time stand still where I want it to be*
clouds are rocks and earth is liquid
my flesh burns and the Princess of Far-off gyrates
Mean King objects and the Jester holds court
Kingdoms collapse and new ones come in their place
dreams, dreams, dreams die
and are re-born in the Heavens in Our Heads
*firebird, firebird
burn the ground
and let illusion and reality be one
firebird, firebird, firebird
let despair be hope, and love be lust
one the other, the other the one*
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 7:25 AM UTC
Edifice erections surreal mistic heights
Wayward excursions and catenary's bight
Communal collusions of harmonies site
Ethereal subsistence on exsertion's light
Lingam and yoni are indefatigably tight
Exponential overload was communities plight
Semantic regalia is myriad temptation
Finite being a mutual oblation
Vicarious recalcitrance an obeisant sensation
Conception's vastness like incalculable equation
Ephemeral effulgence is indomitable pervasion
Treacherous traverse and eternal occasion
Succinct salience is symbiotic allegory
Fecundity's verve a transcendent promontory
Imperative ascension the conjunctive's divinatory
Audacity's exigence and fertility's invocatory
Erotica's erectile like mentality's trajectory
Futurity's fatidic and inherent delusory
**** it fell right over like categorical imperative's contradictory
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
I love that Jewish ****
I know it’s better than whatever ****
That you’ve been gettin’
It’s Israeli and it’s rarely being used *****
Just look at you *****
You spent an hour in the shower
Feeling useless
Until you had the realization
That the water’s lubrication’s
Even worse than when you use spit
You know, I’m all about the Benjamins
But I’m chilling on the Abrahams
That’s a little too hasidic
For a person who’s obsessively
Collecting all the circumcised
Erections in this city
‘Cause he’s orthodox, get it?
Aug 3, 2023
Aug 3, 2023 at 7:21 AM UTC
Men grow on my fingers
and I assault them when I write
until each becomes impotent,
I will never let anyone hurt me.
Their pulses stutter and echo
as if I keep them in a barn
but they’re hard under my skin,
their erections like callouses.
Some get restless and none cry
because they know I watch:
I am not here to be present, I
am not here to let people inside.
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
For sustenance we trudge on
Just to sustain
This callus equilibrium of fragile crystals
swaying in the wind, falling constantly
Employing the cleverest techniques of fleeting upward momentum
Short-lived displays of affection bleeding the small offering received at birth
endlessly replayed to our children's eyes
Despondent indentured servants scribbling through skin and tendons
Just to feed their families the rice they can no longer grow
And sending these fairy tales to the rosy-cheeked offspring of their oppressor's store bought dreams
To keep the oppression alive .
To operate at peak efficiency.
To transfer honest muscle through wire mesh.
And fatten.
And enfeeble
Enforce the prerequisites to match the scale's testimony.
Testify! Oh, Lord. We thank you for this meal stolen from our inferiors.
Please Please Please.
We demand pleasure. IT IS REQUIRED.
For if we feel sadness, then we have failed.
And we'll lay down what we don't have space in our engorged bellies for.
It will be placed, with all due honors, to our greatest shrine.
Where we are honest with our real Mother.
Where the proud, twicely worn, footwear of our warrior-spiritless cows rests
Where erections limp as collapsed towers, respected by false jihads, sleep.
Where dream's plastic refusal composts never; nourishing nothing.
Where potential is pure impotence.
The bed we all share.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Chatting cold conspiracies from across the coffee table.
Pangaea on the rocks - sweet, sober, civil silence.
When did the degradation become so severe?
Time ticks down and friendships fade to acquaintances.
Spine tingling tempo of the pitter-patter rain drop percussion.
Galloping triplets trickling down from the temples of thunder.
Hands of the clock clap in celebration of another hour killed.
Two o’ clock Coca-Cola to crown the king of carbonation *****
Naming off artists to impress the drunken temptress.
Taunting the room filled with glimmer-eyed, lovestruck libidos.
All the kids are struggling to remember the horoscope they skimmed.
Brains drained to the point of puking in mouths, poisoning the passion.
With whiskey laced erections, this night chants a swansong.
Illegal lane changes and tiptoe key turning roustabouts.
The Hubble eye can’t detect the silent thoughts left hidden.
Dreams within dreams, lost in a cloud of exhaled acceptance.
Tonight, you fizzled, and tonight, you sleep alone.
These are the danger days. Timber!
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Say baby, can I be your slave?
I've got to admit girl, your the **** girl
And I am digging you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the Spinning Pulsar
Or maybe Queen of 10,000 Moons, Sister to the distant yet
Rising star
Is your name Yemaya? Oh hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Ooh is that a smile me put on your face child?
Wide as a field of jasmine and clover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
High on legs that'll spite Jehovah
**** who am I
It's not important
But they call me brother to the night
And right now I am the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in your right
Who am I? 'll be whoever you say
But right now I'm the sight ***** hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just want to give you injections of
Sublime erections and get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archtypes
Of black angels in flight
Upon wings of distorted, contorted metaphoric ****
Come on slim, **** your man, I ain't worried about him
It's you who I want to step to my scene
Cause rather than deal with the fallacy
Of this dry *** reality
I'd rather dance and romance your sweet *** in a wet dream
Who am I, well they all call me
Brother to the night and right now I am
The blues in your left thigh, trying to be the funk in your right
Is that alright?
by: Larenz Tate
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
I wake up in the morning and put on a pretty dress,
My goal is to stun, amaze, and impress.
I make it about halfway through school without fuss,
But around 5th period I’m written up because cleavage isn’t a must.
I’m getting punished for my own set of double D’s,
Because the men around me get erections from a passing breeze.
If kids in high school can’t control themselves,
Why should I be the one punished for my huge shelves?
Why are men not taught to respect women,
But I am told I look slutty once again?
You’d think boys would be more than their ***** by this time,
But as of now cleavage is still a crime.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
It’s too late now, there won’t
be another one,
My Dr. assured me, and she
should know, she'd
been dealing with ******
since I came here.
Ah: but you left your mark
for humanity, she said.
Your contribution will live on,
that can be your consolation.
Progress she said, since, G.P.S,
Lighthouse erections are superfluous.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 2:35 AM UTC
Make love to me with
your poem ,your poetry.
Flow slowly-do not rush it.
not so fast.
Let your words last.
Stroke me slowly
Put your back into it.
Caress my totality
Draw me into your world
let me succumb -to your glib tongue
I hear your commands
As you slowly express
how capable you are
Expanding my mind
taking me places I've never been
Firmly holding me in the grips
of your suspense.
I was tense
Waiting for the end - you letting me
down gently as your poem ended
I bask in the after math-of a poetry bath
Thinking of the ecstasy of
where your poetry took me.
I let down my hair-because
you swoon creativity
I get off on your enunciation
and affections- inflections
Word erections-sensitivity
and vulnerability
Allowing me to feel every word-
as you speak slowly
you enter me with your "diction".
Slow and easy you speak to me
Stroking me with your poetry...
You took me to peaks
of ecstasy-with your
sweet glib tongue
and that's why I -
let you make ...
Make sweet Poetry to me..
.© Vicki Acquah
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
She had
Big luscious
**** ******* lips
Scrumptiously
A ***** *****
With tattoos
Across her ****
And an ***
That any man
Would kiss
Despite
The ***
And the ****
Already on it
She had sass
And would *****
On *****
As her mascara ran
But she wasn't sick
Her every ******* tear
Immaculate
She was a submissive
So dismissive
When you hit her
She came
And begged
For another
With her
Bloodied pucker
Of mucked lovers
She was a nasty *****
Leaving lipstick
On rich boys
And Leroy's
And she
Would ****
Or ****
Just about
Anything
To get lit
As she elongated
Her words
Like a *****
Southern ******
Slurring her verbs
With dead birds
In her hand
And fear
In her heart
She fanned
Her flames
And scrubbed
The stains
From predictable
Strangers
Strangling her
While getting ******
From every angle
Dangling her soul
In her mangled holes
She cried
And cried for more
Reap and sow
The *****
From her nose
As every man knows
To blow as she chokes
Such a beautiful throat
And that walk
That walk of a *****
That every man adores
That other girls
Only wished for
And she loved it
The attention
The erections
The affection
The infections
She was addicted
To ****
And knew it
She was a ****
Strutting her stuff
Letting her **** out
Of her blouse
Just to arouse
The curiosity
Of your spouse
And wreck
Your house
She couldn't get enough
She'd eat your girl out
Before getting ******
She was down
For anything
Or anyone
A **** ** bag
That we all
Tagged twice
Once for fun
And once alive
I was her life
She was my wife
She was a
kick in the face
Away from fame
And she would
Say anything
Anything
To get away
Until she
Didn't
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
the dam breaks
this pressure
let it burst
dance with chaos
barriers be ******
strong erections crumble
surrendered to unknown
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
You cringeworthy, evil pismire;
Your father did surely miss-sire
This personification of flatulence,
The embodiment of self importance
Overflowing with abject peccancy
Devoid of any sign of respectability
Replete with gross odoriferousness
Horribly and infamously unscrupulous.
You have reveled in misrepresentation
And tried to elevate your calumniation
Disinformation and deception exists
As capitalistic dissembling persists.
You’ve collected an evil government
Built mostly of human excrement
And have such a lack of veracity
That you speak in constant mendacity.
Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile
Issue from your unsympathetic smile
And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes
As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes
That buy your fabrications completely
While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly.
You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star,
But most of us know exactly what you are.
Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy
But not for you, for us and our country.
Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules;
You despair of any other kinds of tools.
Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks.
You demand we build with straw-less bricks
Your erections that are planned to be palaces
Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses.
Those monuments, inanotomically correct,
Established to celebrate and somehow protect
A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank
Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates
That decades of privation will not quite alleviate.
But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame
Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game
Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt
About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
Edifice erections surreal mistic heights
Wayward excursions and catenary's bight
Communal collusions of harmonies site
Ethereal subsistence on exsertion's light
Lingam and yoni are indefatigably tight
Exponential overload was communities plight
Semantic regalia is myriad temptation
Finite being a mutual oblation
Vicarious recalcitrance an obeisant sensation
Conception's vastness like incalculable equation
Ephemeral effulgence is indomitable pervasion
Treacherous traverse and eternal occasion
Succinct salience is symbiotic allegory
Fecundity's verve a transcendent promontory
Imperative ascension the conjunctive's divinatory
Audacity's exigence and fertility's invocatory
Erotica's erectile like mentality's trajectory
Futurity's fatidic and inherent delusory
**** it fell right over like categorical imperative's contradictory
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
Has been long that I didn't remember you.
Creating fiction chords in my head
of that old song we used to sing together.
The piano leaving me with hair erections
reminding me that pores exist.
The bass taking place
giving short detail
and pressing my body slowly,
gently and deeply into the couch.
And the voice..
warm voice that is injecting
ridiculous amounts of dopamine
directly thru my brain,
driving me to this stage of complete satisfaction.
Feel granted to be the one
who can spike chemical reactions
from the inside of my being
to the outside of my skin
..without a touch.
Kid, what more ****** that could be?
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
It’s thought provoking
and emotion evoking
I feel like I’m choking, {Heimlich}
Truer words have never been spoken
by a dancing mime with only one leg.
Minds have reeled
Fates have been sealed
Unknowns become real
It’s a negotiated deal made by some lawyer with a soul.
Tragic, Comedy- Tragicomedy
Shipping-handling. As seen on TV.
What’s the cost of free ?
Nothing comes really, with a money back guarantee.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Operators standing by- keep your seat.
Stay out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat.
And know your victory isn’t over defeat.
Miller time- the best time of year
But I’ll never need another beer,
My life’s so complete when using Tampax.
The latest miracle cure is as safe as anthrax.
Who has time these days for voting, when I feel the blight of bloating ?
There are no important politics or elections.
When I have four plus hour erections
but I bet my doctor won’t be the one I decide to consult.
>>>>>
Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.emotionalorphan.net.
Oct 1, 2009
Oct 1, 2009 at 1:49 PM UTC
Edifice erections surreal mistic heights
Wayward excursions and catenary's bight
Communal collusions of harmonies site
Ethereal subsistence on exsertion's light
Lingam and yoni are indefatigably tight
Exponential overload was communities plight
Semantic regalia is myriad temptation
Finite being a mutual oblation
Vicarious recalcitrance an obeisant sensation
Conception's vastness like incalculable equation
Ephemeral effulgence is indomitable pervasion
Treacherous traverse and eternal occasion
Succinct salience is symbiotic allegory
Fecundity's verve a transcendent promontory
Imperative ascension the conjunctive's divinatory
Audacity's exigence and fertility's invocatory
Erotica's erectile like mentality's trajectory
Futurity's fatidic and inherent delusory
**** it fell right over like categorical imperative's contradictory
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
When the haze of how we met finally cleared,
And your broken heart weighed heavier than it appeared,
When the nicotine air was overcome by a sweaty aroma,
And I awoke from my whisky-induced coma,
I remember seeing your face among the smoke,
And for once I felt someone hearing the words I spoke,
The long talks of fantasy and timeless novel,
Turned quickly into fear and endless grovel,
How you decorated your room with blood soaked artillery,
The long hours spent in your bathtub distillery,
All the while I offered you my heart,
To love you no matter the distance you put us apart,
Met only with your constantly draining rejection,
I came to find I was only part of your bed post collection,
But how I longed to feel your warmth once more,
The longing for you grew me tired and sore,
I thought you would never reciprocate my affections,
I placed my worth in your pathetic erections,
And now you ask me to stay- to love you in another state,
Oh but my dear this love is too much too late,
I cannot love someone I can never see,
I cannot love someone who could never love me.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:33 AM UTC