zebra Apr 2017
i always imagine you so very graceful
through the masochists ordeal
a god form of supplication
seeing your face
in love
fascinated by shimmering kisses
that hurt, yet please
wet lips and sharp teeth  
glamors that excite
cold blade licks dragged across
tender bellies
naval
buttocks
and flexed toes
stinging
then radiating outwards
wounds become lilies
mouth sucking
tremulous weeping kisses
ecstatic cruelties
blood glitter sacrifice
your supplication
loves pangs

i'm shaking apart over you
your countenance
a cascading dream
moved to tears of adoration
your  limitless
yielding
like surrenders caress
an infinite communion
with fragile limbs
silky wrapped spools
innerness of desire veiled in a shroud
a faltering star that glistens crimson
nymph of purgation
ash volcanic
cells en-flamed with tongues that bite
subsumed in scented vapors
a confection of cunt and ass
waves embrace ineffable shores
passed the discontinuity of life  

I have the most immense feeling of love for you
am i not
the saint death  
quietly following you
through life's labyrinth
innocuous  
waiting humbly in the wings

i am all ache for you
a vice of kisses
a brief encounter
that eats your sight and senses
ushering you to immortal freedom
a swooning garland of fire that enlivens
the body electric
a mist of molecules
your tears intoxicate
i am new life with in you
budding embryo
that consumes its mother for nourishment
and saturates like dew drops  
as it echoes through oblivion
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious erotic
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, and yes  i admit to my paraphilias.
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
...seeing purse dressed, flowery-folds,
knows the pleasure, -heaven holds.

Standing proud, -cocksure his breast,
exhausted her, laugh-ter, -nothing left.

Weakly submissive, exhilarated now pressed,
emboldened by she, guardedly bereft...

No strawberry, cakes, honey, grape,
you know what's coming;
[tongue taking taken prayer]

come worship in my temple.
your tongue gowned by silence,
thy teasing vibrations disperse my slack, exchanging
it for a rigidity that is even softer, looser,
an improvement possibility impossible incomprehensible

the noises of freedom from anonymity is thy silenced tongue
unleashed, teasing, speaking tongues unrelenting and unremitting  and unforgotten for they never were
learned or incapable of being self-taught

my pleasure sprouts mushrooms in my loamy foam,
thy rainfall nourishment, seed plant growing life morning borne,
thy tricked up sonnets played within my hearts harp,
tunes never known but come from the land of plenty,
my new promised land

teach me where the apostrophe goes, the comma and
why the question mark is curved and dotted like my body,
why we need punctuation to separate the first from the next

trees weep as if every dry rain petal is instantly imbibed,
wanting more for my swollen by thy ministrations,
I cry out
my ice storm, my thunder, embalm me within the
electric spreading in my veins shocking steady constant

thy name thy name I beg to give thee a name
to understand what has befallen me


you can call me by my favorite of
all my seventy two,^
your first baby squeals and
even now in human manufactured agreed upon symbols, (words),
every utterance a prayer heard and answered

my name is a heated and unbroken
hallelujah,
I am thy god, and you, darling you,
my beloved
^https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/1388270/jewish/72-Names-of-G-d.htm
Ashley Aug 12
Here in the morning gloaming
burning
my skin flaming
as I imagine red kisses
from smouldering lips!

How easily
in anticipation
you make me wimper
before with pleasure
making me simper -
each kiss
another hot coal
placed on my rawness
with searing softness.
Nathan A Jul 23
Seductive wayward hands
Like silk, soft too the touch
Travel down her lustrous skin
Southbound too their destination
Lips, neck combine in passion
Warm breath on the neck
Turns into sultry slow kisses
She grips his hair tightly
Her soft moans reverberate in his ear
As his fingers glisten with her lust
rd Aug 10
A mere thought of you
sends ripples through.
A rush and a jolt
renders ecstatic tumult.
A seismic sensation;
thought of you..an electrifying stimulation!
You might think
That I'm lewd,
Crude
Or nasty,
But I just want to show Everyone
What I've GOT!
I ain't GOT
No Doctorate Degree.
I ain't gonna' impress Nobody
With my mind.
I didn't even bother
Completing High School
School was all just BULLSHIT
To me!
But anyone who sees MY Body
Will be drooling on the Floor.
You might say
That I'm "Power Hungry"
'Cause I like men
To lust after me,
But I ain't no more power hungry
Than anyone else in this World!
I'm not going to  kick your ass
With my boots,
I will never whip a man
No matter how much he pays me,
Or cause him any pain.
I'm the sweet type of girl.
I have no desire
To become a masochistic bitch!
I'm not interested
In causing no more suffering
For no one in this world.
I am NOT  that type of Girl.
I just want everyone in  the Whole World
To Fantasize about ME!
I just want
Every man in the World
To wanted to make love to ME
More than anyone else.
Look at me!
Be honest now.
Don't I make your skin sizzle?
Don't I turn you on
More than any other chick?
Is there really anyone out there
You'd rather make love to
Than ME?
I didn't think so!
So,
What's wrong
With wanting to be worshiped and praised
Like a goddess?
It's better than worshipping
A god that sanctions killing.
Contemplating my extraordinarily sexy curves
Might cause you to lose your breath,
But I don't drop bombs on anyone
Or anything like That?
No way!
I ain't no Fascist Chick.
I just want to push every button
That will get  you turned  on!
I reveal  my body to you
So you will practice  love
Rather than  being absorbed
In anger.
So, don't ashamed of yo feelings.
I know.
You want It!
You need It!
You desire It!
Praise me!
Flatter me!
Tell me all the things
You would never tell
Any  other woman.
Tell me
How you would like me to
To turn you  on!
Express your appreciation
Of each part of my body,
Tell me that I'm sexier
Than any woman
You've ever met in your entire LIFE!
Let me know
That I'm
The Best You Ever Seen!
Cné Jun 25

paint me
with the wet tickle
of your tongue
lingering with affection
savoring my fervent flavor
in bold strokes
of your obsession

color my essence
in heated hues
sending shivers
down my spine
in anticipation
of your warm breath
against my flesh
with every blissful caress
to ensue painted petals
of animation

with your supple lips
gently blur the lines
of my curved hips
softly stroking
the subtle shadows
of warm depth,
blushing
quivering thighs
as I gasp
of breath

plunge in
a primer coated palette
dipping your stiff paintbrush
deep within
the folds of my blanket
manipulating
a trembling image
of your voracious lust.

craze me
again and again
in breathless
erotic glow,
your sensual brushstrokes
gently murmuring
layer on layer
in alla prima flow

delve deep
into my eyes
paint splattering
the passion
of my soul
drizzling silken strands
of love
in their entirety,
polishing me whole

and then
in blissful backwash
admire
the tangled limbs
interposed
of your
completed masterpiece
in smiling
sated repose

Purcy Flaherty Jul 2017
I was just in the closet July 1988
Not a word was said; 'sept acouple of whispers and an obvious desire to fuck!
Mop buckets, heat and the stink of her pussy,
Harsh staggered breaths tell the truth,
Petulant hands and harsh fingers.
Nickers and pants half pulled down,
Hard truths pushing through,
I had to fuck her from behind,
Very confined, quick, clumsy, erotic, release.
We both staggered out;  her mate much older waiting outside, bold as brass, she  looks me up and down all tough and says  assertively i'm next! and fuck I was back in the closet 1988
Two brazen cleaners take the new boy in the closet in 1988 extract from my diary.
Hartaz Kaur Jul 21
An adrift mind when your gaze meets mine

Yes I see it,
Those stealthy glances when the wind caresses

Yes I see it,
There is something in you waiting to come out

Yes I see it,
The contemplation between back to chest or chest to chest

Yes I see it,
The constant struggle with erotic renunciation

Yes I see it,
Desire unsatisfied devours the desirer
Nobody Sep 2017
First he demanded I force him on the bed.
He said don’t dare relent till he’s fully spent.
So I start by removing all of his clothes,
kiss and bite him all over, so very slow.

Then he makes me bind both his hands tight,
orders a satin scarf to blind his eyes.
Next I gently bite his neck on both sides,
stirred on even more by his erotic cries.

My tongue wants to lick him just where he likes,
he trembles and shakes as I lick him up right.
He’s hard and tasty, I tease him till I’m sore;
suck and stop, he can’t take it, and begs for more.  

My mouth is so warm, he’s slippery wet.
I take it, and smother my throat in the mess;
and after he’s been pushed so close to the edge,
he rapidly pounds my mouth till the end.
Ken Rafiñan Aug 5
Her flamingo feet flinging,
tipping, and kicking men into a flutter

It’s them or me—that thunder; I’ll murder.

I’m stirred up and monologue-ing:
smoky lungs deeply stroking hot fires freely stolen.

Exhale, esteemed son.

Penetration then concentration:
spot all the dealings—
drop-top feelings.

Our collective discourse;
collaborative, of course.

Force a real proper steal,
and linger on a plate we should sit down to, chew, perhaps do a few…
clarinets blow.

Meditations of the wise ones on the side:
low-key surmising ways to go in—
flipped-up mentality—
and come out: hot pop quality;
positively in great quantity.

Society watching the mood I’m mixing: an addiction
feeding her every volition.

Feeling just a little out of place
in that space—
convicted of an erotic condition.

Shaded off-site: centered.

Focused.

That cocktail’s swooping in slyly,
cold-sweating,
then creeping on hot.

No choice but to vibe to it,
ride through it,
and arrive at a certain point.

Cursive lines make me curse the times
where there’s nothing left
except rational satisfaction.

Her lips unfold—were they really yours to hold?

Choose: tonight or tomorrow?
Sleep or sweep her off those feet?

Slowly dose it.

Easy swinging,
steady hanging;
chasing wonder.

Always the smell of rains
staining them wavy blue.
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