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"handcuff" poems
Hold you down. Tie you down. Handcuff you to our big bed. Slowly tear your clothes from your warm smooth body. Down to your bra and ******* Kiss you all over and lick some parts. Then I'll slowly start to unbutton my shirt and take off my pants, leaving me exposed. Slowly, is how I'm going to crawl on your body as I feel your wetness through your ******* and I start to rub my hard **** on the wet stain. I'll slip my hand under your back and unhook your bra and then slowly slip it off with my teeth. Then I'll rip your ******* off with my bare hands. When I see your nice sweet ***** I'll kiss it and then start to lick it. Squeezing your thighs and eating you out as you say my name in pleasure. Then I'll unlock the handcuffs and carry you and put you on top of me. I'll slowly start to slip my hard **** inside your tight ***** As you make your faces of pain and pleasure. As you go up and down on me, everytime I'll go in deeper and gain speed. I'll claw at your back as you're riding me and smack your *** As I'm playing with your **** you'll move your hair out of your face. Your sweat hitting my chest, mixing with mine, and me close to ******* I'll look into your eyes as I whisper I love you and you whisper it back. Me letting go will cause you to ****** and our bodies will shake in pleasure. You feel me *** hard inside your ***** You bend down to kiss me and I kiss you back softly.When we leave that room we know that we might have just made a baby...
0
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
The Room
I'm writing this poem to be ignored like many of you I enjoy being a poet of keen irrelevance a literary luminaire of solitude a lost writing ghost a megalomaniac haunting himself a waiting oracle waiting for the occult muse door mouse to tap dance whispering night  babble or having a cooked chicken fly into my mouth while i take searing snapshots of erratic images puzzling them into words from boundless burdens of heaping intestinal bluesy aftermaths exodus of conscience   bruising my self like a ********* in heat on out of control run-on rants and blood razor drenched mysticism while real men drive earth movers drink bruskies and kick *** hustling time share Chinese handcuff contracts and up sell social justice platitudes fit for pie in the sky levitating hysteria lives shatter like red ice in endless cacophonies of skull clobbering effacement I'm writing this poem to be ignored and no one lets me down
0
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
Ignored
The handcuff bites my wrist as teeth sink, searing flesh. A breath, a scent too familiar to forget. Blind. Massive palms, razor point carving canyons down my spine, blood is the wine. The burn of beard feigning consent. Fistfuls of hair conquering words. A corpse to rob me of life, the press of perversity against satin. Fighting, writhing satisfaction. Pain swells in every limb the wet swell reveal my sin. Slaps stinging awake every fiber of clothing still keeping me safe. The drive of possession splitting secrets wide, fingers around throat clenching tight. Sweat running red, the rising growls growls resonate in my head. The raw force bruising like claiming a slave, body & mind consuming. Ferocity leads to frenzy, my senses rage against me, The thickness rips, devours, conquers my body for paradise. And I scream in the ecstasy taken. A clenching incites eruptions, the pulsing beast flooding. My purpose awakened.
0
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
Taken
Come one come all *** inside everybody Please do Fill yourselves and spill yourselves Wet your dry spots with your wet spots Don’t sweat the petty things But please pet the sweaty things Dance like a warped record stacked on a broken record So you can gyrate over a Led Zeppelin ****** of OOOHHHHYYYEEAAAH and it makes me wonder Soak my curiosity in your nearly naked Let’s walk away from this mutually ***** You cantankerous carnivorous man-eating jellyfish Stumbling to engulf me in your morphine Lying like amazing lovers do “No I won’t leave you in the morning But it doesn’t mean I will ever love you I just want you to feel me You feel me?” And you left at 4 am just after I passed out Leaving me stuck with The wings made of chain-link handcuffs and sheets Going from my wrists to my feet Because you said you always wanted to make love to a butterfly I thought I could be an angel Or at least a stingray So my venom might stay with you longer But you left like I knew you would Took the keys and I had to pretend I was wearing a white kimono And because of the handcuff chain I just started telling people I was the ghost Of ***** lovers past But you go ahead and go on back to your main attraction I don’t mind workin’ side show Standing like a man made ******* Pulsing at the thought of you potential Waiting patiently like a secret Verbal donkey show Hollerin on the tail end of dawn With a secret song on a broken record When played backwards “Don’t go”
0
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Porm (A Verbal Donkey Show)
Come one come all *** inside everybody Please do Fill yourselves and spill yourselves Wet your dry spots with your wet spots Don’t sweat the petty things But please pet the sweaty things Dance like a warped record stacked on a broken record So you can gyrate over a Led Zeppelin ****** of OOOHHHHYYYEEAAAH and it makes me wonder Soak my curiosity in your nearly naked Let’s walk away from this mutually ***** You cantankerous carnivorous man-eating jellyfish Stumbling to engulf me in your morphine Lying like amazing lovers do “No I won’t leave you in the morning But it doesn’t mean I will ever love you I just want you to feel me You feel me?” And you left at 4 am just after I passed out Leaving me stuck with The wings made of chain-link handcuffs and sheets Going from my wrists to my feet Because you said you always wanted to make love to a butterfly I thought I could be an angel Or at least a stingray So my venom might stay with you longer But you left like I knew you would Took the keys and I had to pretend I was wearing a white kimono And because of the handcuff chain I just started telling people I was the ghost Of ***** lovers past But you go ahead and go on back to your main attraction I don’t mind workin’ side show Standing like a man made ******* Pulsing at the thought of you potential Waiting patiently like a secret Verbal donkey show Hollerin on the tail end of dawn With a secret song on a broken record When played backwards “Don’t go”
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43
Its halloween my favorite time of year. Grown women running around half naked. Makes me wanna awake the spirt and grab a beer. Boy i wish my last nurse dressed like that. My recovery would have been so much fun. Oh please miss witch cast a spell on me and turn me into your loving puddie cat. oh miss **** police women ya can handcuff me. I'll go commit a crime just to be guilty. Yes it's this goblins favorite time of year. Where women dress like naugthy little vixens. And instead of candy I hand out cheap pickup lines and beer. Boy that chicks hot but wait. Didint I just see her in the guys restroom. Doing something standing up straight. Hey man whatcha going as hell who cares. Im more interested in what your hot wife wears. From a **** school girl to a smokin french maid. It's like going to the worlds biggest strip club. No cover charge need be paid. Who cares bout Freddy and Jason and other worn out monsters from the eighties. Cause all i got say it halloween ladies.
0
Oct 20, 2009
Oct 20, 2009 at 8:04 AM UTC
Its Halloween Ladies
scars of a past I wanted nothing to do with led me to handcuff myself to a lampole for security. I had reached my consensus. I threw the keys to these cuffs in mental portals where I thought no one would dare to ever travel. Many tried searching but I intentionally obstructed access with deceptive rants of fear and caution. By then I was sure that I had thoroughly built walls of security; I was safe ...but who would've thought my aesthetically intellectual design had a weakness? The enemy came just as they all did, hoping to be let in... but this one reacted differently when the ranting came; I was now at a disadvantage because I had no other alternatives for defense. The enemy showed no care for my security; It was attractive And I succumbed while Never forgetting my plan Although it seemed my design was nugatory. My mental lampole and cuffs, gone. I was left subjugated at the feet of a queen who carried an aura with the most beautiful spectrum. Like a bull snake, promises of security grappled my core, draining it of all fear leaving behind no traces of deception. Although defeated, she still remains my enemy because serendipity never seems to stick around.
0
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Defeated
Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere… “Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said. Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead “I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed…  been round the block, but not the clock… One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite… for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys… They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick… need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego? Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would! ****** hell! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon… There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon. So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!”  They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily - Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May,  Bette Sheedus, Lovinia **** I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew - with things like this going on round here we could all get ******* She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade. We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade. It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance… Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance. Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon. Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon? Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster… so why not just click... to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK! ****** hell! The screen’s gone blank… now I won’t even be able to have a ____ Knock, Knock, Knock! "Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"
0
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 5:45 AM UTC
Ladies of the Net
Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere… “Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said. Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead “I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed…  been round the block, but not the clock… One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite… for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys… They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick… need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego? Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would! ****** hell! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon… There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon. So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!”  They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily - Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May,  Bette Sheedus, Lovinia **** I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew - with things like this going on round here we could all get ******* She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade. We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade. It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance… Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance. Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon. Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon? Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster… so why not just click... to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK! ****** hell! The screen’s gone blank… now I won’t even be able to have a ____ Knock, Knock, Knock! "Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"
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28
let me take a break from all of this for awhile ii’m much too sad to read you a story from my diary i miss kissing you i want to kiss you under the sun i want to kiss you on the sun i want to handcuff you and kiss you i want to know how to kiss you i want to write a book about kissing you kissing you is a full time job let me kiss you agian i am so sorry i died kissing you and i don’t regret it i am losing my mind and i don’t want to find it i"m reall sorry i will pay for the damages wow can we stop loving each other so much already i am so inlove with you right now i could make all the spelliung mistokos in the world and you would still understand me and i you could close our eyes and still see how much love we have for each other anad i don’t even mind if it seems like i’m not payinga ateetion because maybe this is the way things are supposed to be and i can’t make anything perfect for you because i am not but if you know then i bet you can we ever maybe this is right everything is amazing and it will all be destroyed this is the most memorable moment i’ve had today let’s walk through the water with our shoes on i want to feel the mud between my toes i’m trying to catch all the mosquitos i can find people say i’m not saying anything but i am actually saying everything and if you paid close attention you would notice that i am actually made of different flowers i’m so cute when i kiss you because you make me feel reall cute u are so cute and kissing you should be an olympic sport because i would win a gold medal in kissing you for sure! how about we talk for a minute
0
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC
september 17th, 2012
let me take a break from all of this for awhile ii’m much too sad to read you a story from my diary i miss kissing you i want to kiss you under the sun i want to kiss you on the sun i want to handcuff you and kiss you i want to know how to kiss you i want to write a book about kissing you kissing you is a full time job let me kiss you agian i am so sorry i died kissing you and i don’t regret it i am losing my mind and i don’t want to find it i"m reall sorry i will pay for the damages wow can we stop loving each other so much already i am so inlove with you right now i could make all the spelliung mistokos in the world and you would still understand me and i you could close our eyes and still see how much love we have for each other anad i don’t even mind if it seems like i’m not payinga ateetion because maybe this is the way things are supposed to be and i can’t make anything perfect for you because i am not but if you know then i bet you can we ever maybe this is right everything is amazing and it will all be destroyed this is the most memorable moment i’ve had today let’s walk through the water with our shoes on i want to feel the mud between my toes i’m trying to catch all the mosquitos i can find people say i’m not saying anything but i am actually saying everything and if you paid close attention you would notice that i am actually made of different flowers i’m so cute when i kiss you because you make me feel reall cute u are so cute and kissing you should be an olympic sport because i would win a gold medal in kissing you for sure! how about we talk for a minute
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34
*Contemporary some youth are wary of the claims of professions out there.. these seem to wrap handcuff and chain.. a desperate need for gifted tutelage to locate precious solitude.. knowing then that each profession's byways spring from this place...*
0
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
Professions
Hay bud       roofies razorblade coochies Bubble gum             glue sniff spare change electric automatic blue cheese. Marked for death                 dont forget to lay off the wet **** unless you like the handcuff kickin and screamin. I want to smoke your **** and smoke a jay                 Hay bud               tell me You got somethin to say?
0
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:01 AM UTC
Hay Bud
I could have come Goose stepping through that door on eggshells With an anchor in the old ways, and the wind of change in my sails. the crux is; decide what you want foul demon, I can shield you from the fire or burn bright to show you the way, but I will never burn out and I will never blow away. So go snare some other paradox boxer or lay in the brier patch of tangle choice you once forced into my sides. I do not permit you to handcuff your heart to my wrists, and the baggage? Can stay at indoors. The persistent demand of my presence pushes me into the love affair with the lies I tell myself that make you bearable. I make no apologies for my vacant smile, you bought my body not my soul. And the clocks and deadlines made me to fix a do not disturb sign on my mind. With the ultimatums delivered to me ear-trumpeting the feelings that already echo in my diminishing proud walk, The spine slump didn't take long to take hold. These are not poses. This is who I am, or at least who I used to be, Or at least who I should have been, But for the game of Chinese whispers Played with champions of the rumour mill and the ghosts they've created. Removed from the hiding places are the scars and the tumours, I've been curing them in the sun. If you came to me looking for a hero stance and a place to live at the foot of a mountain called meekness, then I will let you down. I was bowled over by the crud slides long ago, And now like all great insects, I've wriggled free of the muck, Striving out from under more like Frankenstein's Monster thriving in the thunder. And making an exit, whether you like it or not.
0
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
Heroes and Villains.
I could have come Goose stepping through that door on eggshells With an anchor in the old ways, and the wind of change in my sails. the crux is; decide what you want foul demon, I can shield you from the fire or burn bright to show you the way, but I will never burn out and I will never blow away. So go snare some other paradox boxer or lay in the brier patch of tangle choice you once forced into my sides. I do not permit you to handcuff your heart to my wrists, and the baggage? Can stay at indoors. The persistent demand of my presence pushes me into the love affair with the lies I tell myself that make you bearable. I make no apologies for my vacant smile, you bought my body not my soul. And the clocks and deadlines made me to fix a do not disturb sign on my mind. With the ultimatums delivered to me ear-trumpeting the feelings that already echo in my diminishing proud walk, The spine slump didn't take long to take hold. These are not poses. This is who I am, or at least who I used to be, Or at least who I should have been, But for the game of Chinese whispers Played with champions of the rumour mill and the ghosts they've created. Removed from the hiding places are the scars and the tumours, I've been curing them in the sun. If you came to me looking for a hero stance and a place to live at the foot of a mountain called meekness, then I will let you down. I was bowled over by the crud slides long ago, And now like all great insects, I've wriggled free of the muck, Striving out from under more like Frankenstein's Monster thriving in the thunder. And making an exit, whether you like it or not.
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31
The taste of your sweetness, Still lingers on my tongue, I am an addict for your dew, Remember the first time I pleased you, The time my lips pursed between your folds, That purr that escaped, You knew I loved to hear you moan... Then there was the silence, You sensed what was in store, As my mouth fluttered across your wetness, and my lips engulfed your other lips, You spoke and told me I'm nasty But your taste I can't resist, or how your diamond peaks at me, Awaiting a tantalizing encase, To be wrapped within my tongue, Light strokes upon the center, Twirling around the cape that no longer keeps it sheltered, You hated when I teased you, I could not resist when you said, Please. Don't. Stop... As if you knew being craved was my weakness, I told you what you wanted to hear, I'm not here to play games, Firmly wrap your legs around my head, Bring your garden to my face, Every drop of dew is a present to my sheets, Will you be my submissive? I will handcuff you to the bedposts, Before I let you run away, I missed the way your body would spasm for me, I promise to take my time if you honor me another night, I only wish to say this blessing between heaven and your thighs.
0
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
Ecstasy
I've always been wary-- and celebrated my potential Betrayal and Certain    death(.)     (oh) At The Juice Joint. All wet.  (incorrrr --ect.) Applesauce. (non sense.) All dolled up. Showed off my        Gams And Big Jazz (eyes). Wanted to get spifflicated with some Dolls and Jellybeans. ...my fella. ? Didn't have enough clams. Any of us. We    're the new Lost       ...generation. I thought I'd keep the bank open, but interest wasn't given Cash or Check: didn't really matter. Might've been      the cat 's meeeeeow. And how. Ahhhhh... we all had our glad rags on. the Daddies hit on all sixes.       Let's get ZOZZLED on some jag juice, dewdropper. Deeeeeewdropper.  ~errrrrrrrr..... Though giggle juice is more apt ...for me. Leave the Mrs. Grundys at home...no fire extinguishers allowed. How ironic.                 You were the extinguisher. Bring Your Own Knife       , we said. It's a Stabbing Party      , we said. I didn't want to handcuff you. Didn't want to exchange manacles.        ("No, I'm no one's Wife, but OHHHHH, I love my Life.") I percolate. I percolate. I percolate. I'm not your quiff. ...not your sheba...or a vamp. Just admire my            chassis if you will.     they all     do The engine'll purr    for you, ~~if you turn the keys just so Everything was     Copacetic. Copacetic... For a time.          (get'hotget'hot!) Caesar's here.                                        Hussssshhhhhhhh... ...speak          ~~eeeeeaaaaassssyyyyy. And then I realized.                                    I'm tired of being Caesar (      .       )
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Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
The Ides of March (a night for easy speaking)
I've always been wary-- and celebrated my potential Betrayal and Certain    death(.)     (oh) At The Juice Joint. All wet.  (incorrrr --ect.) Applesauce. (non sense.) All dolled up. Showed off my        Gams And Big Jazz (eyes). Wanted to get spifflicated with some Dolls and Jellybeans. ...my fella. ? Didn't have enough clams. Any of us. We    're the new Lost       ...generation. I thought I'd keep the bank open, but interest wasn't given Cash or Check: didn't really matter. Might've been      the cat 's meeeeeow. And how. Ahhhhh... we all had our glad rags on. the Daddies hit on all sixes.       Let's get ZOZZLED on some jag juice, dewdropper. Deeeeeewdropper.  ~errrrrrrrr..... Though giggle juice is more apt ...for me. Leave the Mrs. Grundys at home...no fire extinguishers allowed. How ironic.                 You were the extinguisher. Bring Your Own Knife       , we said. It's a Stabbing Party      , we said. I didn't want to handcuff you. Didn't want to exchange manacles.        ("No, I'm no one's Wife, but OHHHHH, I love my Life.") I percolate. I percolate. I percolate. I'm not your quiff. ...not your sheba...or a vamp. Just admire my            chassis if you will.     they all     do The engine'll purr    for you, ~~if you turn the keys just so Everything was     Copacetic. Copacetic... For a time.          (get'hotget'hot!) Caesar's here.                                        Hussssshhhhhhhh... ...speak          ~~eeeeeaaaaassssyyyyy. And then I realized.                                    I'm tired of being Caesar (      .       )
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83
I now present to you the talk of the town Mr Page He looks are deceptive; please don't be fooled by his age He lives alone in a house near to his office in front of a park He has far too many enemies for he is a loan shark Before I tell you more let me put a disclaimer Now days anyone can sue you, even a lamer So if there is any resemblance with anyone dead or alive It’s a mere coincidence, have checked all archive Mr Page as you read this, is now in a court Facing a trial bravely and holding on to his fort Lawyer asked him if he would promise not to lie Mr Page told, truth it shall be, till he would die Not only was he a loan shark whose guts every one hated He spoke in rhymes, even when he debated All he did was to threaten people all the time He made them sound ridiculous adding punches and rhymes When the lawyer asked, 'Mr Page can you show us how you rhyme.' He replied, ' No sir this is neither the place nor the time.' 'Besides I am not carrying any dictionary or copy of rhyme zone' 'Watch what you say Mr Page' said the lawyer, 'I don’t like your tone'. 'Order order', said the judge, 'I don’t want any rhyming in my court.' 'I can see my lawyers have started rhyming too', he added with a snort 'Do you see Mr page what a bad precedence you have set'? 'Why my lord how could I corrupt the court, ' said Mr Page, ' we have just met' 'There you go, rhyming again even when I told not to' 'Sir why are you so against rhyming I have absolutely no clue' 'Mr Page, please stop.' 'Sorry sir I will try to drop.' 'Mr Page I warn you.' 'I am trying, I am trying, and it’s hard! Phew' 'A phew! Did you have to add that'? 'Sir please, it’s all part of a chat' 'Mr Page you are not helping' 'Please my lord, stop yelping' 'What! How dare you! Handcuff him and put him in jail, No books, No net, No friends and No bail.' So you see this how Mr Page landed up in prison And for what, rhyming, which was certainly no treason Funny laws, funny punishments, this certainly was a funny case But the people were happy as long as they didn’t see Mr Page's face.
0
Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 1:54 AM UTC
Mr.Page
I now present to you the talk of the town Mr Page He looks are deceptive; please don't be fooled by his age He lives alone in a house near to his office in front of a park He has far too many enemies for he is a loan shark Before I tell you more let me put a disclaimer Now days anyone can sue you, even a lamer So if there is any resemblance with anyone dead or alive It’s a mere coincidence, have checked all archive Mr Page as you read this, is now in a court Facing a trial bravely and holding on to his fort Lawyer asked him if he would promise not to lie Mr Page told, truth it shall be, till he would die Not only was he a loan shark whose guts every one hated He spoke in rhymes, even when he debated All he did was to threaten people all the time He made them sound ridiculous adding punches and rhymes When the lawyer asked, 'Mr Page can you show us how you rhyme.' He replied, ' No sir this is neither the place nor the time.' 'Besides I am not carrying any dictionary or copy of rhyme zone' 'Watch what you say Mr Page' said the lawyer, 'I don’t like your tone'. 'Order order', said the judge, 'I don’t want any rhyming in my court.' 'I can see my lawyers have started rhyming too', he added with a snort 'Do you see Mr page what a bad precedence you have set'? 'Why my lord how could I corrupt the court, ' said Mr Page, ' we have just met' 'There you go, rhyming again even when I told not to' 'Sir why are you so against rhyming I have absolutely no clue' 'Mr Page, please stop.' 'Sorry sir I will try to drop.' 'Mr Page I warn you.' 'I am trying, I am trying, and it’s hard! Phew' 'A phew! Did you have to add that'? 'Sir please, it’s all part of a chat' 'Mr Page you are not helping' 'Please my lord, stop yelping' 'What! How dare you! Handcuff him and put him in jail, No books, No net, No friends and No bail.' So you see this how Mr Page landed up in prison And for what, rhyming, which was certainly no treason Funny laws, funny punishments, this certainly was a funny case But the people were happy as long as they didn’t see Mr Page's face.
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40
as soon as she sees it she wants it is entitled to it while she is stealing it she begins elaborate lie everybody knows if she truly wants it she has means everybody knows she is gorgeous movie actress celebrity starlet awesome accessory genius she convinces herself she did not steal it the darling delicate chain with finely crafted handcuff clasp and accompanying key she wears it effortlessly just another imperial trifle hanging around her exquisite throat she has no idea how it got there she may have a drug problem a little dizzy even careless but she is no thief what with her magnificent beauty idyllic body prominent discography why would anyone accuse her she is submerged in deep denial why with so much to lose and absolutely nothing but tiny shimmering embellishment to gain why do tell would anyone point a finger at her she probably wasn’t even ever there at that dicey store she never tried on the astronomically overpriced bling it may have been her dodgy handlers or stylist’s suspect mismanagement and subsequent loan hypothesis she is positively not a thief it’s too insignificant an item to squabble about a mere gold necklace the whole incident ridiculously overblown cruel in fact she hates the miserable paltry piece of jewelry here take it back she insists it never graced her illustrious neck if anything perhaps a cheap ploy by Venice Beach shop to enhance it’s value oh the genuine necklace that she stole
0
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 12:12 PM UTC
LiLo
Bartender Pour me some more Let me stumble through the back door Let the police Smell the poignant aroma of rhythm and blues Collide with my Genius creative expression Handcuff me for resisting being silent Check my breath for the bubbles of a drunken poet Spitting up words and rhymes Expressively with profanity of poetry Charge me with intoxication Verbal sensation Before the judge I plea guilty Poetic confinement recommended On the walls I write art Painting out the graffiti of the prisoner’s thoughts And colouring with poetic expressions Bartender Pour me some more Until my cup overflows I just can’t get enough Let this liquor become embedded in my arteries and lungs Let it be in my very DNA Let it flow through my blood and veins Through my heart and mind Let it be hypnosis for my dreams I drank poetry and it tasted delicious. CHRISTENA ANTONIA VALAIRE WILLIAMS ©2012 JAMAICA
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
I Drank poetry
There is a point where I give in To the most satisfying sin There is a part of me who begs To be punished and pushed to the bed As my hands are either tied Or he could use those handcuffs Handcuff me to the bed Please me until the night's over and done Then we can cuddle, kiss and he can adore his girl
0
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 11:49 AM UTC
Temptations
These walls, these four walls they keep him alive. I sit in them, I look around, I wait to hear his voice, to see him stroll across the room. Throw the door open mid afternoon and throw himself onto the bed next to me. Cascading waves of kisses on my body, clutching my waist, running his fingers threw my hair, losing himself with me, neither of us knowing what we're doing, nobody caring, the world was ours, the night was ours. These walls, these same four walls, they taunt me with weaknesses I now posses. They flash images of the last time I saw him, screaming his last words at me, "I think we should stop this." I turn to the other wall, it continues the nightmare. "I love you, you know that right?" I sit up and cover my eyes. **"I think we should see other people." "I'm just not sure this is right anymore." "We're done Lisa, it's over." ** These walls, these dreaded four walls, they keep me prisoner to my thoughts. They put shackles around my feet, handcuff my arms, and rip out my soul to play with. They drag it back and fourth, my body playing monkey in the middle, running for survival every time I see his smile When I feel a warm breath on my neck A nibble on my ear. My body, it yearns for life, for passion, for lust. My body, it fights for its life, drained and confused, numb, yet ambitious.
0
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 1:32 PM UTC
Four
In the middle of folding laundry one afternoon thinking this might not be a big deal but then again it's not such a bad way to spend the day and the back door opened and my neighbor showed up in full paintball gun attire and pointed his paintball gun at me and yelled at me to get on the ground! i smiled and put down my child's underwear and grabbed his Buzz Lightyear sound and light activated laser gun that he had recently gotten for Christmas and aimed it at him and yelled NO! You get on the ground and then 40 men rushed into my house and at least 10 of them had rifles and i was thrown down on the floor, wood floor, right cheek made direct impact and **** that hurt and i heard a shout of a voice ordering the 10 men with the 10  rifles pointed at my head not to shoot and that the shoot to **** order was off, that it was a toy plastic gun, he repeated, it was a plastic children's toy and in one fell swoop of motion my right shoulder was taken out of its socket and **** that hurt and twisted around behind my back  in order to handcuff that hand to my other hand and stand me up and walk me out as I watched dozens and dozens of what i could only presume to be storm troopers from the Star Wars movies wearing white protective gear covering their shoes bodies and faces entirely spilling into my house with the great invasion of an ant colony and several groupings of men in black pants and black shirts with white letters on the back spelling out different acronyms such as S. W. A.T., and K.B.I,  KDH&E;   The storm troopers were actually Bio HAZ MAT men testing to see if  the air quality in the house was higher than their acceptable limits of risk of having a chemical explosion occur while in the house on that afternoon of January when officers of the  Sheriff’s Office Special Operations Group executed a search warrant at my house on Main St.in my small town in Kansas and made entry at the location and took me into custody while Certified **** Lab Techs from the Sheriff’s Office collected 2 Mountain Dew bottles and some rubber tubing and rendered the items safe and Agents of HazMat Inc. were contacted and responded to collect the hazardous materials for disposal I sat in the back seat of the cop car and thought this might be a big deal this could be a bad way to spend the day
0
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:42 AM UTC
life changing afternoon of January
In the middle of folding laundry one afternoon thinking this might not be a big deal but then again it's not such a bad way to spend the day and the back door opened and my neighbor showed up in full paintball gun attire and pointed his paintball gun at me and yelled at me to get on the ground! i smiled and put down my child's underwear and grabbed his Buzz Lightyear sound and light activated laser gun that he had recently gotten for Christmas and aimed it at him and yelled NO! You get on the ground and then 40 men rushed into my house and at least 10 of them had rifles and i was thrown down on the floor, wood floor, right cheek made direct impact and **** that hurt and i heard a shout of a voice ordering the 10 men with the 10  rifles pointed at my head not to shoot and that the shoot to **** order was off, that it was a toy plastic gun, he repeated, it was a plastic children's toy and in one fell swoop of motion my right shoulder was taken out of its socket and **** that hurt and twisted around behind my back  in order to handcuff that hand to my other hand and stand me up and walk me out as I watched dozens and dozens of what i could only presume to be storm troopers from the Star Wars movies wearing white protective gear covering their shoes bodies and faces entirely spilling into my house with the great invasion of an ant colony and several groupings of men in black pants and black shirts with white letters on the back spelling out different acronyms such as S. W. A.T., and K.B.I,  KDH&E;   The storm troopers were actually Bio HAZ MAT men testing to see if  the air quality in the house was higher than their acceptable limits of risk of having a chemical explosion occur while in the house on that afternoon of January when officers of the  Sheriff’s Office Special Operations Group executed a search warrant at my house on Main St.in my small town in Kansas and made entry at the location and took me into custody while Certified **** Lab Techs from the Sheriff’s Office collected 2 Mountain Dew bottles and some rubber tubing and rendered the items safe and Agents of HazMat Inc. were contacted and responded to collect the hazardous materials for disposal I sat in the back seat of the cop car and thought this might be a big deal this could be a bad way to spend the day
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53
If love's a crime, Then we'd be criminals. To some eyes, we'd be monsters; And to many, we'd be devils. But I wouldn't mind my first name being feared and hated, Because having your last name is what matters to me. If love's a crime, Then we'd be criminals. We'd be playing with fire and get burned; We'd be playing tag with the detectives And hide-and-seek with the cops. But I wouldn't mind running and hiding with you for the rest of my life. If love's a crime, Then we'd be criminals. We'd be locked behind bars And treated like animals. But as long as my hand is hand-cuffed to your hand And we're together in the same prison cell, I wouldn't mind wearing a handcuff And staying in prison for eternity.
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 3:49 AM UTC
To Play with the Law
You scored my heart with your fire and flames They lapped at the muscle inscribing their names: Beauty and Intellect, so **** and smart Warping my mind like contemporary art You know all the words that make me clench fists You tease and you promise and handcuff my wrists I smile when I see you and frown when you leave And you leave me wanting so much to believe That I'm not just a fling, just another guy A portable shoulder for tears when you cry I've been there before, and it's happening still If you want me to do that, then I certainly will But when you whisper so sweetly those things in the night Sighing my name, saying, "This is so right" I can't help but think that it means so much more Than a shoulder to help your eyes even the score
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
Shoulder
People who always are writing of *** Are like birds, always writing of feathers; We know it's their specialty, and they're proud- But find another subject, for crying out loud! For half the fun is in chasing the one That you want to handcuff to you (in love); But don't leave behind poems, on your nightly passes Like deflated balloons, lying in grasses..
0
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
Too Many *** Poems Can Make You Blind
She Wants Scarlet cheek Drenched in heavy breath Praying to a god of lightning within skin We sin electric Along the pulse of thunder That pounds along the prism of rib cage As an empty echo waiting to be filled We reduce the night in hidden instincts Back down to darkness Kissed in candle flame So desperately close to being blown out That we have already settled into gloom Sightless in the slap of touch The weight of wait Tension in tendons Curled toes and closed eyes Fearlessly peeking To drown in the bounty of hair That hangs heavenly Like a blindfold Lost in the black sea of pupil A lack of breath In lip bitten lungs We surrender to a pillow case prison Bed sheet asylum Deemed insane We play straight jacket Handcuff confessions Shrink our skin Closer to a clothing called sanity Admit to the sweet seductions Of tounge **** swallow lip Quiver to bow Notch arrow Draw steady down Hold Hold Tremble Release To bask in the wisdom Of hip slips singing Dipping witness to testify In the court-ship of submission A contained chaos Contested as corruption But our bodies speak universal In a language of moans and mantas Sung out over the churning bass beat Of heart thumps that resonate In the taught syllables of beau-ty Caged between skin and its slap We are powerless in the presence of passion And position our bodies in sculptures of sweat A natural occurrence A midnight madness Where we shed this skin And let our bones scrape Till our skeletons knock the nails outa this casket Resurrected we wake as infidels And follow our echoes To the origin of our conversions A little death A simple attraction Tension And release
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
What You Might Hear Me Whisper Asleep in Your Arms
She Wants Scarlet cheek Drenched in heavy breath Praying to a god of lightning within skin We sin electric Along the pulse of thunder That pounds along the prism of rib cage As an empty echo waiting to be filled We reduce the night in hidden instincts Back down to darkness Kissed in candle flame So desperately close to being blown out That we have already settled into gloom Sightless in the slap of touch The weight of wait Tension in tendons Curled toes and closed eyes Fearlessly peeking To drown in the bounty of hair That hangs heavenly Like a blindfold Lost in the black sea of pupil A lack of breath In lip bitten lungs We surrender to a pillow case prison Bed sheet asylum Deemed insane We play straight jacket Handcuff confessions Shrink our skin Closer to a clothing called sanity Admit to the sweet seductions Of tounge **** swallow lip Quiver to bow Notch arrow Draw steady down Hold Hold Tremble Release To bask in the wisdom Of hip slips singing Dipping witness to testify In the court-ship of submission A contained chaos Contested as corruption But our bodies speak universal In a language of moans and mantas Sung out over the churning bass beat Of heart thumps that resonate In the taught syllables of beau-ty Caged between skin and its slap We are powerless in the presence of passion And position our bodies in sculptures of sweat A natural occurrence A midnight madness Where we shed this skin And let our bones scrape Till our skeletons knock the nails outa this casket Resurrected we wake as infidels And follow our echoes To the origin of our conversions A little death A simple attraction Tension And release
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66
I am a temporary trophy, gold leaf gilded and shiny, bright, shimmering. You're 200% proud because I'm yours. The small handcuff trapping, pinching, suffocating, my left pinky's neighbor pledges my body to you. If only you could chain my brain, maybe you'd be content, satisfied, done. Perhaps that's why I cry at night and wonder if I'll ever break free. Your "love" is an exceptionally cruel box to exist inside.
0
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 3:30 AM UTC
Temporary Trophy
i know you're bad... but god **** god **** your looks my eyes are hooked you should be booked for aesthetic crime so fine   god **** handcuff my mind the cities grime your street-light sublime my ball and chain beauty profane. god **** graffiti heart in a shopping cart you pick my pockets street scam smart god **** knife to my soul tag my wall pretty on parole let's brawl god **** god **** -r0
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
profane beauty.