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A Sad Alex Sep 7
can not be found in the flesh
For as warm it may be
As soft to your fingers it is
It will lay soft and cold eventually

can not be found in gold
Yes, it never loses its luster
But many coins you need to muster
And no number will fill the gap in your soul

can not be found in others
For the laughs may distract
The facade will crack
And still you will be empty inside

ilusive as it may be
It follows you around
It never left
For within you she rest
Waiting to be awoken
And while the rest might feel great
They serve as nothing but crutches
On your own you must stand
If you are to revel
On the pleasures life offers...

To improve one self
To look on path troded
It´s essence

To know there is more
With hunger jump forth
It´s rushes

To balance the mind
With the desire of the heart
It´s key

And once held in hand
You will understand
That happiness flies like a bird
But behind she left
Tranquility
And the knowledge
That you can get it again...
rob kistner Jun 26
ADULT. CONTENT*
_

radiant in the bloom of youth
perfect skin of alabaster
eyes blue as the sea of Xanadu
chestnut hair flows thick and lustrous

your voice is soft as spring's first breeze
melodic as Chopin's sonata
you smolder on this april night
so much more than captivating

your satin robe falls soft away
your shoulders wrapped in moon's embrace
you comely gaze into my eyes
my heart and all of time stands still

my eyes then glide your wondrous form
trace the gentle edge of shadows
where moonlight fondles your perfection
enfolding you through midnight's window

my eyes hold soft your lyric essence
lost in tangles of silken hair
aglow in nocturne's silvered light
they fan in wisps your graceful neck

I touch eager bud of tender breast
entranced by your smooth and velvet flower
yearning in the satin cleft
where supple limb meets supple limb

I reach to take you in my arms
to know us by our flesh on flesh
with precious care I lay you down
enwrap you in my lover's passion

alive this rush of sweet sensations
sweet swept away in a flood of pleasure
so wonderfully new - you are my first
the one I always will remember

_


rob kistner © 2009
(revised 2018)
These are sweet hot memories of two lover's first carnal pleasures.
The innocent awe of passions first release.
It has been a long time for me, but the sounds, fragrances, the setting, what she wore and didn't wear, the exciting anricipation, the fear of failing, the eagerness, that first free feeling of naked flesh on flesh, the magical foreplay, and the rush of pleasure -
i still remember...  ~ vividly ~
Stu Harley Oct 4
what
is
evil
nothing
but
a worm
that
burrows
into
the
soul
to
slowly eat
your
flesh and bone
Infernally speaking, Your thoughts are blood clots when your internally leaking.Your strength is weaken. The path is gradually steepen. Their conscience Of destabilized political lies suddenly peeking. Despise white lies and be surprise of the wise look in your eyes because truth is love and love is what I’m seeking. I’m that open soul to love and take control. A bowl of happiness to mold the world. To look in my eyes is to look at the sunset apond the sea. I bring tidings among the seasons the beautiful reasons that changes the color in the leaves. The truth that believes in light over disease. Passion that brings any man to his knees. It’s the birds and bees, and I am he. Truly divine times three. The tree of life not of eve. Conceive to self deceit. To live in error is to be deceived. Believe in terror and Eternally you’ll  bleed. Plead To lies and selfishness and greed was imply. Defeat the fall of man before you die. Admitting errors clears the score and proves you wiser than before. The taste of tears is sweet and bitter when it falls from fear. The storm drives  near. Blackened clouds as light disappeares your life drowns. Pounds to grams, grams to ounces. You’re living in reverse when taking no actions. One step forward, five steps back. For ever falling into this atrophied trap
meGaThOr Jun 25
world is a fallen butchery of meats,
spreads meat over and over
gives no names,
the meats smoke lives,
rot or dies,
other meats appear,
other meats rot and dies,
the meats spread out like a butchery,
the meats move and dies,
the meats rot,
or dies from accidents,
other meats appear,
other meats dies,
the world is a butchery of meats,
as do not know where to lean,
invents policies, policies,
is space arrangement of meats,
a place, a flesh meat dies,
there would be no policies,
many meats a place of dead,


but the world of dead  meats
butcher the planet butcher dies.
rob kistner Sep 15
ADULT. CONTENT*
(Inspired by: “Venus and The Sailor”, oil by Salvador Dali, 1925)
_

he felt the weight of her thigh
pressing against his
and the flesh of her hip
urgent against his groin
and the warmth
as he responded involuntarily
feeling a heat spread through
a quickening of his pulse
as he swelled and swooned
growing rigid and eager

and a deep need overtook him
as he reached ’round her
firmly encircling her waist
with his great arm
bending her forward
with the mass of his body
and with his other hand
freeing himself
to enter her fully

consumed by her wetness
in a dance of dizzying desire
his urges hot and husky
on her ear and cheek
as he churned in slow pleasure
building in evermore lustful lunges
ever increasing in pace and tension
as they danced and danced
spinning into a carnal fury
until a great release
swept over them

and they melted together
in a fevered bliss
matching breath for slowing breath
and he bringing his lips
softly to the sweet nape of her neck
as they drifted to earth
entwined in the joy
and the afterglow
of love's  lingered embrace



rob kistner © 2012
(revision © 2018)
This is a contemplation on what would be the dance of carnal love.
rob kistner Jun 27
ADULT. CONTENT*
_

succulent nectar of plumping fruit
peeled back in promised sweet delight
laid bare engorged deliciousness
a vision of tender ecstasy

tart sweet tingle at tip of tongue
probing to lift the fleshy folds
as lips embrace the juicy pulp
teeth gently nip the bursting core

breathing in the rich bouquet
all senses teased and tantalized
my mouth devours the dripping treat
again and again until satisfied

_


rob kistner © 2007
(revised 2018)
Sensuously savoring succulent fruit.
The erotic essence of produce.
Ashley Jul 19
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we jerk into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other:
my mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
Fuck!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched penis,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tendernessness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful bone china face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ejaculate over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain semen on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we fuck,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying fucked,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the fucking comic at me,
will you?
Beat my fucking flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a fucking puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my cock into your cunt -
where I love it best.
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