"goood" poems
This is how it goes
your hands will be proxy for mine
my hands will be proxy for yours
your fingers my fingers
and my fingers yours
what I describe, you enact
told in detail so exact
Just to begin
I squeeze your *******
knead and pinch
tweak a ******
give it a tug
Stroke your tummy
work over your thighs
move up the inner
where skin is smooth
circle around, moving in
till soft contours are caressed
through pants that burn
to be removed
that pain you to wear
and I see in my mind
as you describe
the spreading, darkening patch
that fills the gusset
Now they're pulled down
removed quickly, completely
and you are revealed
spread, opened, shameless
Gentle fingertips tease
dance in circles, barely touching
yet the fire within grows
back and forth, round and round
dance the fingertips
as both reciprocate
with growing pace
and firmer touch
I hear you gasp down the line
and your breathing quickens
as you hear mine
as your excitement fuels mine
as mine fuels yours
in our feedback loop of lust
And I tell you how
my fingertip would give way
to tonguetip if I could
that I can taste you
in my imagination
fragrant, salty sweetness
with musky undertones
the tip of my tongue now circling
then flicking back and forth
beating out the rhythm
that you best harmonise with
bringing forth your moans
Then darting down, back
between wet, glistening folds
exploring each ridge and valley
working remorselessly
Breathing faster now
with animal grunts and moans
directions of pleasure gasped
breathless down the phone
As fingers again
take the lead
find the opening
slip readily within
probe, explore, ****
find that place
on your front wall
yes, just that spot
that's a little rougher
and feels sooo goood
Add a second finger
working and *******
licking and rubbing
moaning and gasping
barely intelligible now
...yess...more...yess...ohhh
are all that have meaning
Finger three joins one and two
then the pressure builds
demanding release
and shaking and thrusting
grows to shuddering
and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose
******* faster furiously
till we both explode
hearing each other's
voicing of our ecstasy
in language intelligible
only in this one context
Brains and voices return
as we bask in the afterglow
and what passes between us then
in those moments
is the deepest intimacy of all
Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
(W = Anonymous Elderly Woman With Sudden and Severe Dementia)
---
W:
"I was an evil little girl".
I used to stick my tongue out at little boys. They would say,
"SHE STUCK HER TONGUE OUT AT ME".
Then the teachers would always say,
"Young man, she is a respectable young lady and has done no such thing".
So I'd put my thumb to my nose and make faces as they sat".
"My grandmother always raised us to be "GOOOD" "GOOOD" and I was goood.
It was so boring.
They used to get so frustrated with me".
"I was so proud of my father.
Everywhere he went he had to fix people.
He changed things
nomatter where he'd go. He always said
"I CAN MAKE IT BETTER FOR THEM.
IT CAN BE BETER".
He never loved me. Didn't have time. I should call him.
I want to call my father"
Me:
"Did he ever self-actualize and realize that he was making their lives /his version/ of better? Before he died, did he realize maybe what he thought was better wasn't better for everyone?"
W:
"No.
He was a tsunami that changed everything he touched. We girls
respected him.
Listen to me, hah.
talking about such things, on a toilet.
I have no dignity left.
We have to laugh.
Am I crazy?
Me:
"You're no more crazy than I am.
Who wants to be sane? That's no fun".
W:
"That's right!
If you can't laugh,
you die".
Me:
"Earlier, to describe yourself
as a child, you said
you were "Evil".
Do you beleive that part of the reason you were so "evil"
was because you were beautiful?
And you knew it?".
W:
She paused for a moment and pursed her lips in contemplation.
...
"Yes."
The woman nods a slow turtles nod, with both eyes shut and squinting and a pouted mouth.
Her puckered lips fade into a smile.
"Yes, absolutely It was".
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
Bones
make reeaal
goood soup
dig mine up when
I'm done with 'em.
Jul 15, 2011
Jul 15, 2011 at 10:46 PM UTC
we is no kind *** we lik de nazoos
dewinch cakle esz wbi pnik hedponesw are chool in mi book
hoorecane irmia no es divertido., we here at buzfeed tink we no wot u are dooeng
mnanspred is de goood teng ti do evri dai
dundundunduncdundunduindunduindundundudn
pie.
gavery is dood cor my vanes
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC
I crinkle my paper in anticipation
I'll write about you today
I got a million thoughts
Its gonna be one goood poem.
Pen kisses paper
My mind on your smile
Black eyes
Silly naughty boy
My Brain stops dead
I miss you
Words cant possibly be accurate
I tuck my thoughts to sleep
I'll write about you tomorrow
Its gonna be a good one
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 5:18 PM UTC