"gratifying" poems
Velvet lovers swim into a purple nest
Meeting at a hysteria they cant resist
A thousand molecules crowding at their skin
Famished of nutrition
But sustained by birth
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
You don't seem to think with Reason;
root Chakra so loud and gratifying.
So very much louder,
and as if that makes it right,
and as if it makes up for
all that lack of self control:
You don't seem to think with Reason,
your root Chakra is your puppeteer.
Playing with Fire,
One gets ******* burnt.
What did you expect? Then again,
you don't seem to think with Reason.
Unbalanced Root Chakra;
so very loud and gratifying,
leaves you cracked and empty;
hollow. Wallowing. I know
this is hard to swallow,
but, do you follow?
You bring it on yourself!
You called it down, summoned it!
You played with Root Chakra Fire
and we're all still getting burnt.
You might have saved yourself,
but I am still enduring it;
Each time I think of Love,
Pain instead comes to Mind
because that is how those I have Loved have treated me.
"You're such a good person", they've said.
Hah! That's either ******** or just insincere,
'cause they've sure as **** shown me
what it is they thought I deserved:
Reap the words of one you've broken down.
Behold the Wrath you've ******* sewn about!
Dark Actions propagate dark Feelings;
Face the repercussions of your Actions:
This is a Reflection of you!
This is a Reflection of what you have done!
This is no appeal to Guilt;
for what good would that do?
--
I guess we must think differently, and that's fine.
I guess I am just so offended
'cause I hold *** with reverence;
To me, *** ******* means something,
and I thought of *** as an extension and expression of our Love and
not just another ******* Addiction.
Turns out it was just another ******* Addiction
and you got your ******* fix,
but where's mine?
You've become just another ******* Addiction
that I am now forced to quit
cold-turkey.
Just another addiction.
(I was) Just another addiction.
(You are) Just another addiction.
Just another ******* Addiction after all.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
************ can be said to be
"the ability for One to be there for Oneself in a time of need"
Sometimes it is the lesser of two evils:
To keep Oneself occupied and satisfied
without running the risk of burning Oneself,
and/or something else,
let alone someone else,
in the Fires of Root Chakra Folly;
however nice and gratifying
juxtaposed flesh can truly be
in the heat of the moment.
Other times it can be a great way
for One to get in touch with Oneself.
Get acquainted with your Temple.
Navigate and cherish it.
Want some passion?
Show some to yourself!
If you can't show it to yourself,
how can you expect it with anyone else?
Worship thy Temple.
Appreciate it.
It deserves it.
You deserve it.
-
Regardless, as a skill
************ sure comes in handy!
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
I hate it when people think suffering is wrong. Learn to pick up your **** suffering, and bear it! Try to be a good person so you don't make it worse! I know you have a lot of reasons to be resentful about school, heck, even your existence! We know it's going to involve a lot of pain, and lots of it is going to be unfair! But acting out everything you're complaining about will only make things infinitely worse, try it. That's why we have the saying that hell is a bottomless pit, because some stupid son of a ***** could figure out a way to make it a lot worse. Learn to accept it! This is what the real world looks like, full of suffering. What can you do about it? Try reducing it! Start with yourself! Get your **** together solidly so that people can rely on you! Square up with what's wrong with you, you know it if you'll admit it. You know that there are a few things you can polish up a bit, deal with it and maybe you can start managing your present insufficient condition. Don't be a **** victim. Shine yourself up a bit so your eyes will be a little bit more open, shine it some more and maybe you might be able to bring your family together instead of having to be that spiteful, neurotic room mate that you're doomed to spend the whole semester with. Be humble about your deficiencies. Figure out how you can make peace with your siblings. You'll get there somehow, and when your life starts functioning you'll find out, "Well, that kind of relieved a little bit of suffering," at least that reduced the opportunities for spiteful revenge. When you little by little start to get your **** together, you'll get acquainted with it because you're doing something difficult. You're wiser, so maybe you could point out a tentative finger out there beyond your family and try to change some little thing without wrecking it. We students are so conditioned to think that we can just fix anything, even something as complex as our society. Well, try to fix a military helicopter and see how far you get with it. You can't just whack it with a wrench and be like "Oh look, it's better!" NO! Life is complicated and to fix things are hard! We overcome suffering by being a better person, that's how you do it! It's hard because it takes responsibility. If you want a meaningful life everything you do matters! Unless you don't want meaning and not take responsibility, because who the **** cares? You can wander through life doing whatever your want! Gratifying your short term impulses for who knows how short it's going to be. Ask yourself if you want to get stuck in meaninglessness, but no responsibility. You'd quickly realize how the majority of your being are pursuing meaningless things. Because the fact is, pursuing meaningful things means taking on suffering. You have to put yourself together in the face of that, and that's hard! When you really get to the bottom of things, you'll realize that you need to make the choice to put yourself together. Transcend your suffering and see if you can be some kind of hero. Be that person who'll make the suffering in the world less. That's the way forward.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Of immaterial vision birthed in mind.
Of spirit annihilating the selves,
of calling it plan. The one-
a semblance scattered on deck space
refracts on reflections of the reactions of tokens
of the carnivalesque,
of the hunger artists,
of phenomenon-
which may or may not exist depending on reflective surface of the true self,
of the motion of tides,
mocks motion in body,
of obsession.
The tonality of the "be" and the "is" and the "will be" is deafened by the "I am,"
by the Ohm.
Of shuddering and implanting embraces,
of blessing on every ember of cleanliness that is true self,
of the oneself that exists above selective memory,
not draft of time arrow but the material existence of dream,
not disembodied but embodied.
Of breeding,
of circumstance and forking fourth dimension prison terms,
of crowd control,
of she wolves and their feral children,
of forceps interpolating material reality of conception,
of Dreamtime,
of pain,
of pleasure,
where they are relations-
of skin perversely hanging, dually,
gratifying and sullying-
Fraying beautiful disasters that react to invisible ripples
I, the oneself, implore you to awaken in your utility and then outside of it.
Take those boot straps and bend the bars of confinement with them.
Chisel and sculpt light into a fabrication of quantum of action.
Celebrate the ordinary and expose it.
Of stargazed caustics,
of the early universe.
I stand awake as not the expression of design
and no longer connected to Earth by my roots
but awake inside cocoon,
entrapped behind slits,
of alien cage otherness.
The Akh beseeches ownership of the Ba
I want play dice with god and end in draw.
I am Sekhmet-Wadjet who dwells in the west of heaven,
I am Sahyt among the souls of Of.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:29 AM UTC
•
Your love is as sweet as the sugar,
That I've been addictively indulging,
For so many years.
*Every piece of you,
Is just the most gratifying that I have tasted!*
But when together we've been drowned with tribulations,
You just gave up rapidly...
And dissolved!
*Integrating and going with the flow,
Of those torments and allurements,*
Now where are you?
You are now a part of those afflictions that drowned you,
I can still taste your sweetness,
*Every time I sip through the trials,
That we've face,
Resulting to weaken your knees,
And been defeated,*
I was totally in great pain,
To know that your love,
Can be just greatly surmounted,
By miseries in life,
But what can I do?
I fight, you relinquish,
And until then,
You just become a memory,
Of an achingly baleful chronicles of my life.
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
There’s something about you that
makes me want to write
bad poetry
and half-assed short stories.
Something about you that
makes me want to take all my
unspoken words and turn them
into something beautiful,
something worthwhile.
You make me want to be an artist
like Van Gogh or Sylvia Plath;
you make me want to create.
Maybe it’s that blue wave
that crashes down like
an incoming tide on the beach—
your eyes
when you look at me in
a certain way, in
a certain light.
Or maybe it’s
the way that you say
my name and then say all
those horrible things that make
me want to rip something
open.
Those words that rip me open.
You make beautiful stanzas get stuck in my
head like lyrics to a bad pop song;
I can’t erase them and the
only way I can think of to cope with it
is to write them down like a schoolgirl
with a well worn diary.
I think I might as well have hypergraphia.
I am an unprofessional
medical doctor with
a pen, paper, and
Word Document
suffering from a form of
verbal ***** because I
can’t possibly think of a way to
speak my mind.
I think I would make a very good mute.
I wish I lacked a voice box
because then I wouldn’t have to
be the one that has to
say all the right, comforting things
at the all the right times
and all the right places.
Sometimes it feels as if I’m
being eaten from the inside out
by some sort of paratrophic organism
that sits atop my frontal lobe and
dictates my life and fluctuates my
anxiety and I can’t even think about
some things anymore because of this
nervous clench I get in my gut when
I let my thoughts get too jumbled.
But you—you make me want to write
the most heartfelt and sappy sentences
and you make me want to
be more than just ordinary.
You make me want to be extraordinary.
I guess that what I’m writing is
an apology in the shape of
a few stanzas and a few metaphors.
And this is an “I forgive you” for that night
that we spent outside your house
arguing over the stupidest of things,
so stupid that I can hardly
remember a single word I said to you.
Nothing gratifying is ever
painless to obtain
and I want to be a fighter like
Hercules or Alexander the Great.
I want to be extraordinary with you.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
Snow falls quickly and harshly to the ground.
Sort of how your fist grazed my face earlier.
I place a cigarette up to my lips and take a deep inhale,
Instantly the nicotine begins to course through my veins
I’m praying to the gods that this love doesn’t fail.
As I feel the memories escaping my brain.
The mirror last night told me that you were lying.
So, I smashed it into a million pieces, falling to the floor.
The entire process was almost strangely gratifying.
The glass is stained with a dark reddish hue.
It’s my blood that protects our apartment.
Because I know your girlfriends certainly will, not.
I’m seeking those beautiful nights
With your arms lovingly wrapped around my waist
Instead of your forceful hands throwing me onto the bed.
Loneliness stings more than your foolish ways.
I repeat this over and over again.
The shadows of our love hang heavy and low.
As if it has already evaporated from this moment.
You have pushed me to the breaking point.
To an alleyway outside in the cold.
Where I give in and take puffs of a single cigarette
The choking and coughing feels so far from elegant
But by this point I don’t give a ****
I need something to cope with the pain
Something to erase your name
Anything to get you out of my brain.
The smoke that falls out of my mouth
Peacefully disrupts the cold bitter attitudes.
I spend this time kissing a final farewell
To the innocence that used to exist.
My heart aches wholly for the girl that
Used to believe in a love like this.
I know you are cheating, lying, behind my back
But instead of screaming and crying.
I take a deep breath.
You never deserved the love I so freely gave to you.
So, I try to walk away. But it’s no use.
I’m called again to your side, to your bed.
Without a single breath, you lie to me as if I mean nothing.
As if I’m worth nothing.
I’m starting to believe, and to fall again.
Who is going to pick up the broken pieces of my heart?
I dream of the day that your door slams
A day where we no longer exist.
Where the fire that burned for so long has finally been extinguished
As I throw the stub of my cigarette to the floor
I dream of the day that I grow a semblance of a backbone.
The world around me blurs into vision that hazy and blue
I just want to leave and to experience life on my own.
But maybe leaving you is a fate that’s too good to be true.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 5:22 AM UTC
Luminous passion flows quite magnificently
A dance crying out to be heard
Persuading your spirit to honor the motion
So sweetly, as it stirs
A remarkable immersion of inspiring sensation
Uncovers a welcoming glance
Softly held on the face of the persuaded spirit
Who hears the cry of the dance
Gratifying spontaneity demands your attention
Be delighted by the cry that is heard
Inspiring the spirit to gently whirl and spin
To a lovely music without words
Beautiful effortless moves of revealing delight
Are honored without any question
By the spirit who hears the lovely persuading music
Of the dance of spontaneity's suggestion
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 7:15 PM UTC
*You and I are an unfinished poem.
There's so much more to say,
we could have been
the sweetest story written on crumpled papers
and heard on gratifying mouths,
but unfinished poems are;
just left unsaid and undone.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
The air is autumn.
Smell of yesterday enters the air.
Yesterday's furniture.
Piles of junk.
Flaming ablaze.
Flaming amazing.
As I said smell the air.
Don't stand too close though.
No fingers burned.
It feels so good.
Don't need the heating on.
Rely on the bonfire burning bright.
To keep me warm for a while tonight.
Great excuse to destroy the flammable trash.
Only reminder, a pile of ash.
Smell of burning.
Aged brush wood.
A flaming bonfire.
So good so refreshing.
Fireworks such an expensive waste of hard earned cash.
Don't want my wages to go up in a flash.
A good bonfire is just so gratifying.
November the 5th, smelly fun.
Livvi
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:41 AM UTC
So many of hours are compressed, drained, squeezed for all their worth
So many of our days are pressed into our skin with molten memory
So many of our years are defined by the effort, by the reward
And so it should be, such definition is gratifying
But forgive me, if forgiving is due, for valuing insignificance
For understanding a macro distinction of cells and stars and our place in between
For allowing time towards the subtle seconds of observation
And the day dream of depth that comes with it
When the leaf falls after such intense photosynthesis
When the river rushes with unfleeting certainty
When the bird calls out with definite culture
When the girl blushes with warm emotion
I hope I am around to see it
Apr 13, 2010
Apr 13, 2010 at 10:32 PM UTC
Over the top to sail lips float
Oversweet travel in any sort
Two lips sway back and forth
Have lips we travel
Unravel-Hot lips Brazil
Satisfying-Gratifying
* * * * *
Sugary-Syrupy the sky like
Our lips high
canopy travel shaky
Lips met her rivalry
Lips together acceptable
Reasonable-humble
Lovable-venerable
We travel up
Lips frown to fall
Lips* color* rich* never* to* be* frugal
First class lips diamond- coral
Forever my lips half open
Traveling closed lips
* * * *
She walks and trips*
Museum art
* * * *
Our lips never part*
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 11:43 AM UTC
The constant mental banter
Back and forth yes or no
Do I disappoint my love
For a moment of instant gratification?
Do I throw away recovery
Three solid months
Itchy skin and hateful thoughts
For a moment of instant gratification?
And I'm so full of regret
Because it wasn't worth it
And I hurt my best friend
For a moment of instant gratification
A moment of instant gratification
That wasn't even gratifying
Wasn't in the slightest, satisfying
Harboring a moment of regret
For something he won't forget
But I tried in vain to justify
The actions I couldn't dignify
Words that trickled like thorns
Oh how I wish I waited a minute more
And not let their whispers win
Screams rather, as they crawl in
They soothed their shrieks
And gently brushed my cheeks
And convinced me it didn't count
If it didn't bleed on my account
But he held my close and said it did
I can't swallow it, but it's true, I backslid
"But it didn't leave any marks to show"
My mind screams and my heart does echo
"I didn't bleed in the slightest my dear"
Disappointing him is a biggest fear
As immaturity grasps at my soul
I have to accept my repercussions in whole
Three months down the drain
And causing my best friend pain
Not a scar to show for what I've done
But away from me, he'll never run..
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:43 AM UTC
*Love’s a fragrant rose
A sparkly luminescent red
Like beetroot with a thorny side to dread
Orchard fresh, exquisite and breathtaking like a polyphonic prose.
It’s cupid’s ingenious marvel
A force with a whirlpool effect
That sweeps it’s ‘victims’ off their feet their hearts swelling with deject
It’s undoubtedly the tower of babel
Only that its structure’s amorphous
Always changing in a constant state of ‘metamorphosis.
Being in the arms of Morpheus
Is indeed more gratifying as opposed to being diagnosed with hysterical neurosis
Methinks love thou art an extinct phenomenon
Buried deep in the abyss of emotional confusion.*
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
Captivating radiance streams from the glowing reinforcement
Satisfying the anchoring of the bluest moon
Appealing to celestial spheres with such delightful notions
Reflecting off the glass of a bottomless lagoon
Swirling kisses of lighted jubilance dance upon the waves
Sweetly admiring the gratifying view
Tasting all the glints of teardrops falling from his face
Transparent as the crystal fallen dew
Angelic faces with wings of gossamer appear upon the glow
Staring up wistfully at the bluest moon
Wondering if he cried because the sun had left his side
When she disappeared behind a sandy dune
An enthralling music filled the air from the wings of gossamer
Singing truth to the tears of the bluest moon
Words of heavenly delight filled his aching soul that night
Reassurance he found in their tune
The captivating radiance still streams from the glowing
Yet the bluest moon cries there no more
See the bluest hue disappear with all the glints of tears
As he watches for his sun from the shore
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 4:57 PM UTC
Never-ending, incessant inspiration, is welcomed by the hand
Sweetly held treasured from the very start
As a silken caress of soothing persuasion, stirring the steady flow
Of your imagination, nestled gently in your heart
A release of cherished wonders, splendid in their course
Dignify the expression in their flow
With the breath of enticing bits of passionate emotion
Gratifying in their bliss, pleasing as they show
Deeply captivating is the gravitation to incessant inspiration
Ensnaring and hypnotizing the consenting soul
To express admiration with a measure of immense flourish
As an exhale of unrestrained emotion with no control
If you find you are intensely drawn into this sweet continuum
Of fascination gently rippling in the flow
Treasure the inspiration nestled gently in your heart
Express your imagination in the show
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 6:18 PM UTC
All the world's a *********
And all the lads and ladettes mere defecators,
Gratifying oozing exits and entrances;
And one man perforce enacts too many roles,
His acts being seven deaths. D'abord, the baby,
******** and ******* on his mummy's frock.
Then, the errant truant with his rucksack
And pock-marked wanker's face, creeping like death
Foul-trouser'dly to school. Next a teenager,
Panting like mad dog, with an oozing pustule
Dripping oe'r his girlfriend's pubics. Then a hoodie,
Full of strange oaths, and dressed up like a freak,
Lacking in honour, decency, and up for aggro,
Seeking the respect of loathsome peers
Even on the street corner. And then the adult
With bulging beer belly, and ample burgers stuff'd,
With eyes dulled by unfulfilled promises,
Mortgaged to the hilt, and indebted to Visa,
And so he wastes his life. The sixth age dawns
Before he knows it, bald futility,
With ****** in pocket, five quid a pill,
His youthful hopes well fuck'd, the world too much
For his ignorance, and his vain butch rantings
Reverting soon to teenage curses, coughs
And tobacco'd wheezings. Last we see him,
Ending a pointless and useless existence,
Clutching to his piss-stained Zimmer frame,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans pension fund.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
If you wish to win your man’s heart somehow
Show interest rolling your admiring eyes,
As he raves over the pet subjects of his choice,
Occasionally responding to what he says
Simulate keenness, though you don’t have it
When he prates over his job and its challenges
Pep up his confidence through words of concern
Make him feel, you are there to share his tensions
A wife’s pleasing demeanor and care
Can ease a man’s life and his blues
As filtering sunlight melts the mists
That hides the meadow’s lovely blooms
Know his favorite food and the cuisine he loves
Prepare them oftener than he can expect
The easiest way to get into a man’s heart
Is through gratifying and titillating his palate
Though he may show disinterest in flattery
Compliment him over the ‘great things’ he has done
You’ll see his former stance suddenly changed
Through praise, sure, his heart you have won
In the privacy of your closet on cool, starlit nights
Lie closer to him, even feigning false passion
As a flower bares its perfumed heart to the bee
Give yourself completely to him sans restriction
Thus win him through the magic of wooing
Delight him with your soft whispers of crooning
Never forget to take care of your grooming
And sure, day by day you will see your love blooming
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
It starts off, I suppose,
being an escape.
From harsh noise,
from the crushing weight of suburbia.
Somewhere along the line
(a month, two years)
the reason changes.
It's gratifying having a secret;
the gas station clerk doesn't know,
your parents, your girlfriend,
your professor, your little sister.
They don't know you have enough dope to last three days.
They don't know your only concern is getting another score.
You smile, you sigh,
you meet for coffee,
you dig through the thrift rack,
you go to see a movie.
you don't smack in their view,
you don't snort in their presence.
That's your secret.
You no longer receive pleasure from the dope, the high is only to chase away the low.
You're different, you're set apart,
you have a secret and its consistently exhilarating.
Eventually, if say, you leave for three months, they'll notice the twenty pounds you lost, they'll notice the paling of your skin, they'll notice the apathy in your gaze, and they'll say
'Hey buddy, you doing ok?'
and you'll say
'Don't worry about me lover friend, rice and beans, rice and beans and easy living'
Phillip K **** says he can fairly well sum up sober living with one quote he heard from an ex ****** That quote is "if I had known it was harmless, I would have killed it myself"
you laugh until ya cry
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
The holding of his joyful trembling arms
will clasp no more pink feeble fingers
for even blood betrayed its passing.
The most beautiful cry
vanished without a single tune
unheard by the looking grandparents.
No unfamiliar friends in white
giving genuine smiles
and congratulations to the dad
but the unacceptable shaking of heads
and unwanted tap at their backs.
Suppressed get-the-hell-out-of-heres.
And the mother?
Nothing is more hurting than to never touch
a thing that she sheltered all her life
To holler in pain of delivering would have been divine
to scream, wonderful
to roar, magnificent
to rip bed sheets
and curse the father while letting it out into world
are mostly gratifying
than to remain silent while the cannula
forces its entry to the abandoned world of unborn.
No stupid peek-a-boos will ever echo in this
haunted crib.
No tingling of rattles
will ever irritate ears in smelly midnights
No nursery rhyme will hum.
School bus will never blow its horn
To call upon the school child.
No stars on a hand.
No you’re-the-best-mom-in-the-worlds.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 10:28 PM UTC
Yes! It's another Barry Hodges "Memories" poem!"
I shall never forget our first date together,
How we wandered through the streets of Soho,
Gazing into the **** shop windows,
Laughing at the giant vibrators on display...
And later, a romantic meal in a French bistro,
Where the rules of hygiene were not
As strictly observed as might have been hoped for,
Promising a regurgitatory treat in store...
You ignored the startled eyes of our fellow diners
And brutally shoved your tongue in my mouth;
O how fiercely I slurped on it enthusiastically
Caressing it with my own mouth sausage...
I ****** and ****** and ****** and ******
And (oh joy!) I could taste the garlicky bits
'Twixt your gorgeous unwashed choppers;
How my underwear damply stretched out of shape...
I withdrew my probing tongue and kissed your cheek
Affectionately, yet trembling with rampant desire;
And I boldly licked a firm yellow-topped spot
With its previously observed black centre...
My huge uncontrollable lust conquered
The demands of demodé bourgeois good manners
And I sunk my incisors into that zitty beauty
Relishing the hard core waiting just for me therein...
The waiting staff were deeply impressed as I chewed
In rapturous sensual joyous contemplation
And you spluttered bloodily in loving agony
Your own mighty ****** fast approaching...
Oh what a foretaste of what was to come
When we repaired to my convenient bedsit
For an immensely gratifying triple bonk
Prior to a staggering mutual diarrhoea session...
And now I lie back in sweet recollection
Of the many nights we spent in copulation
But how sad I am as, looking at the deserted bed,
I can still make out the stains of your dying turds.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
you'd sacrifice even your happiness
for that someone to feel blissfulness.
you'd endure all the unfair,
just for the person not to be in despair.
you are willing to conquer the world,
and you will be unimaginably bold.
you wouldn't know that you, girl,
could actually be dauntless in a whirl.
when you love someone,
you'd choose the person over anyone;
everything they do is just fulfilling,
and their mere existence would be gratifying.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 8:30 AM UTC
I often wonder
If I'm normal
To sexually explore
To release my hidden pleasures
Eroticism
Of hidden treasures
I often wonder
If I'm normal
To feel sexually aroused
By my maiden's feet
Her beautiful arches
Decadent soles
Jeweled anklets
And delicate toes
This ****** exploration
A fetish it seems
Of which I barely know
Of which I am curious
Maybe nibble her toes
If only she knows
I often wonder
If I'm normal
To be sexually charged
Stimulated to *******
As she pumps her feet
Wrapped gently around me
As my ******** she meets
A gratifying ****** bliss
This ****** exploration
Of a fetish new to me
Of which I barely know
Of which I enjoyed
She squeezes out a moan
I'll be sure to come for more
If only she knows
Such beautiful toes
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
*A poetry reflects what your soul's 'bout
It shows, how gratifying your love is
The words consider how one speaks through a verse
Love needs one breath & the lips look desperate for one kiss
My dreams working around your daze
I'm so lost into my own stupefy maze
You wrap a wisp of your love around my life
Your love gives me a jack to give you a high raise
A white fog speaking though your voice;
Your love for me coming through my rejoice
A leaf of ecstasy wants you to be mine
So, My heart needs you cause my spirit has no other choice.*
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC