"kisser" poems
a curved pastry
like a prune danish
in a sway
a weaving kiss
anointed by a melting stick of butter,
pushed and puddled
deep and slow
the shape of a heart
with a hole in the middle
ooow dark fig
stinking rose
a comfort that sweetens with the grace of form
and pops like a trigger releasing a bullet
i covet
with eyes like erections
pants sticky wet
hot glue factory
for you love, my *** angel
red skin girl gaping
with circular yearning set in motion
tarnished petal mix meister
sinful hot house
for quaking tongue and lips,
a wild cherry *** kisser
spiked ***** blushing
lord of ****
solar ******* hero
flexed and oiled
to the rescue
a god send
triumphant and blessed
looks like a fast cigarette boat
hitting the speed bumps hard
she said yes please
dip like
nautilus of the black sea
What?
no loitering
no parking
not a through street
haahaahaa
****
that
****
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder why I adore you.
You probably wonder why I adore you too.
Some people might say something like,
It's because I like the way the light hits your face and your hair is perfect even on bad hair days.
It's because you're so beautiful.
Every inch of you is gorgeous.
Your body is magic.
I like when you put your hands in all the wrong places.
You're the perfect height for me to kiss your forehead.
That your lips are nice too, and you're a perfect kisser.
That your smile is flawless.
Or maybe it's really because,
I relate to you better than anyone else on earth...
You're beautiful on the inside. If I could only have you back in exchange for going blind...
Every inch of you is gorgeous, but the person inside of you is what I can't let go of...
Your mind is the real magic, you were never just a pretty face to me...though your face is very pretty.
I like more when we had intellectual talks about things, so much more than the ******
That while I love the taste of your lips,
I don't need them to survive...
That I can see the pain behind your smiles, but I see the joy in the real ones too...
I adore you because I love all of it.
In one view, you are only a lover...
In another view, you're the best friend I've ever had...
I'd do anything to have you back in my life again...
Back in my arms again...
Because I'd take you as a sister if I had to...
I'd stay away from your lips, though, I'd wrap you up in my arms, for you deserve the warmth,
Because you deserve as many hugs as you can get...and
I'd kiss you on the forehead because you mean something to me, and I'd pretend it's nothing more...
I love you.
I need you.
I want you.
I miss you.
I'm sorry.
I'll do anything.
I'll climb mountains.
I'll be waiting until the day I die for you.
If only you would see...
That I'd still come visit you
When you're out on your own,
Or someday when you're with your husband,
That I'd hide all my pain,
If you'd only let me back in...
Because I love you.
I love you with the kind of love I'll never be able to explain to you.
I don't have to wonder why I adore you. I cherish you more than anything, for good reason.
But you surely don't feel the way you used to, anymore.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
I like your eyes.
Your eyes are so blue.
God, I just love your eyes.
Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?
Nope. Never.
You’re a great kisser.
Where did you learn to kiss like that?
From other guys?
You know, you're smart.
You might be smarter than me.
Is that my cue to leave?
You want to hang out?
What do you want to do?
You eat meat, right?
Ok — good.
Would you dump me if I didn’t?
I like your shirt — it’s open in the back.
Really? I wasn’t aware.
I looove your *** It’s just like mmmm (cups imaginary ***
Yea. I know.
(After *** Wow. I feel great.
Cool. Thanks.
(After *** You finished right?
Nope.
You are so young.
Hmm, what happens when I get old?
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
To close enough to whisper is something I shouldn't consider.
She's prays on lonely hearts, I can feel her, she's a masterful kisser.
Any part of her body can touch your skin and make you shiver.
To resist her, it's like taking off your jacket in a Siberian winter.
She'll get into your blood like an infection.
She's the most powerful temptation.
I call her the queen of affection.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
It wouldn't hurt,
you know; if you fell
in love with a person
much younger than you
and if it doesn't get that far
to hell with it, you did
your best behind prison bars
You could at least
try to kiss the lips
of the same *** or get
lost in the ambiguity
of a polygamous marriage
Maybe take a day off from
work and tell all your
family and friends
that you were born
an asexual, furry fan
looking for honest companionship
That'll hit 'em
right in the kisser;
leave their egos
bruised, burned,
and running back
to the arms of tradition
Perhaps you'll
never learn to love
and accept yourself;
Perhaps you'll
stay in a bad relationship
with no way out;
It wouldn't hurt
to cheat, lie, and steal
from your spouse;
It's not like you started
the fire in the first place.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
'World Wide Handsome' you are making us smile
Gorgeous you are with all your style
A flying kisser you are for the violet wave
Making them full of crave
Boy, you are shining so far
From the car door you went to a star
Cheered by the purple crowd
"He is my son", your mama is proud
Defeat sapphire your eyes are
Losing fire your warmth pass
"ARMY!" your voice echoing in our ears
Fading all our pathos and fear
Dec 3, 2021
Dec 3, 2021 at 9:59 PM UTC
I've spent a really miserable month.
I told the wife we'd go out to a nice restaurant
On her fiftieth birthday,
Which naturally led to happy anticipation.
So, the evening before she asked me,
"Where are you going to take me on my birthday, dear?"
And I replied, quick as a flash, *"Up the ********
The silly ***** seemed to have suffered
A major sense of humour failure;
Surely my prezzie would be a sure fire winner,
Certain to restore bonking privileges.
But when she unwrapped it and saw
A giant green ******** to get her in the mood,
She turned quite nasty on me, to put it mildly.
So I slapped her one in the ******* kisser.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
My favourite colour
Is like no other
It’s sunset with you
A silent whisper
A gentle kisser
Is a sunset with you
It’s like all the butterflies
Are shooting to the sky
To see the view
The waves are a symphony
Oh what a sweet sweet melody
Singing the blues
You’re my sunset lover
You’re my favourite colour
Warm bright at bay
But colours fade away
And a sunset never stays
Awake
Don’t go away
I hope you’ll stay
The sun is sleeping
The dark is rising
I’m alone with the moon
Although it’s freezing
My heart is burning
Crying over you
It’s like all the thunder clouds
Come crashing down to the ground
Sinking in blue
Though the sun will rise again
Sunsets won’t be the same
When without you
You’re my sunset lover
You’re my favourite colour
Warm bright at bay
But colours fade away
And a sunset never stays
Awake
Don’t go away
I hope you’ll stay
My sunset lover
Has no more colour
Cold dark at bay
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 3:12 PM UTC
Some of us, are gossip hounds.
Waiting for the great spread of rumors to move around.
So, we can add just a little bit more.
When all we are doing is creating a mess.
When we talk about the affair.
Which many of them is based around lies.
When it's obvious they wanted to bed down.
The phase, it just happens might sound good to say.
But many times, we aware that interest plays along into the mix.
I'm the best lover.
I'm best kisser.
Simply, are challenges to some to find out.
And the interested souls seems to be connected to a spouse.
Sure, the singles gets into theirs.
Except, we will hear they wasn't marry.
So, who really care?
The affair, of interest.
Is the marital crew.
Where the wife or husband seems to be a fool?
For a little touch.
Or a little physical love.
That blinds them to the consequences to come.
We, all know about the bed we make.
We must sleep in it.
When it's our mistake.
Yes, the affair has created a love or two to be true.
But , it came about playing a fool.
The hurt.
The despair bought to another.
Will be there.
Even with your new lover.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
Squeaking sneakers squealing as the smoker squelched across the slippery shiny surface.
Sweat slipping off the smokers snout as the law chased. Oliver the overweight officer was overly panting but gained no advantage. Had he finally met his match?
Safe and sound in a storage facility the smoker stayed silent.
Oliver smashed the smoker across the kisser. He'd smelt out his prey by the stench resonating from the smokers smelly socks.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
******* Your Sister
There was something familiar about her face. Something in the way she tossed her brown hair back and smiled. I couldn’t quite place it. She was an out-of=town biker ***** I was just an in-town biker. We leaned against the bar, my hand on her hip.
Wow. You just don’t give a **** do you?” she said, wrapping her arms around me.
“Oh, I give a **** I’ll share it with you, if you want.”
Her smile grew wide, as she bi her big bottom lip.
“You wanna get outta here?”
We roared into the motel parking lot. She pointed to a room, and I parked right next to her bike.
“I say ******* Your bike feels good, makes my thighs twitch,” she said.
On the way to the door, her knees were trembling. They buckled slightly, every few seconds. Yeah, this was gonna be all right. Back in the bar, we had something magnetic when we locked eyes. It was always a good sign, when you had that. I pushed her down hard on the bed, pressed her mouth to mine. She was a sloppy kisser, all over the place. Not soft and gently, like I expected. Well, we lay there anyways, kissing and grinding our hips. The chin of my beard was wet.
The radio blared a Doors song.
“Let it roll, baby roll …”
Suddenly, it hit me. No, no, this is all wrong. I pulled back.
“What?” she asked, smiling.
“Son of a ***** I rolled off of her and stood up, tightening the strap of my leather jacket.
“What the **** she shouted, impatiently.
“I can’t do this.” I said, shaking my head.
“Why the **** not?”
“Well … ugh. You look just like my sister. I couldn’t figure it out before, but the resemblance is just too much. Christ, I’m sorry, darlin’.”
She sat on the bed, mouth hanging open in disbelief. She slowly formed a sentence.
“Let me get this straight … so … you’re seriously NOT gonna **** me?”
“Baby, I can’t.”
“Well, **** she said, sitting up, pulling her **** back into her AC/DC shirt.
I pulled out a joint and lit it up.
“I can’t ****** believe this **** … lemme hit that.”
I passed her the joint.
“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe it either. You could be her twin.”
“No, it’s all right.” She took a big hit and held it in as she spoke. “As bad as I wanted to **** your brains out … it’s okay. That’s actually very respectable. Ya Know? Shows you really care about your family and ****
“Yeah, I do. Nothing is more important than family.”
“You’re a good guy, Dan.”
"Well, its mainly because I don’t wanna feel like I’m ******* my sister.”
*******
She finally passed the joint back, both of us laughing like children.
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
When I first met Skully,
I was an ingenue in a silly fragile plastic body--
a nursery flat, a starter bed,
not yet Anne Of Queer Gables
magnificently not giving a ****
Back then,
I believed that Skully was stuffed like a bell pepper,
jammed to bursting with thoughts, dreams and
wisdom on every subject;
I didn't know, as we lay together under the ceiling fan,
that he was as vacant and distant as outer space.
He PEZed me kisses, bought me roomsful of useless junk,
and twisted me silly like a bonsai tree.
I let him.
Daydream starlets and archery targets both have curves,
and sit still for the incoming--
I spent a decade with Skully that way,
as if I'd done it with a porcupine and was proud of the damage.
Now, he sits like an unfortunate date brought to dinner--
big-eyed as a girl, smiling too much,
and adding nothing to the conversation.
Still, I can't bear to throw him out,
and so the dogs lug him around like a trophy,
scoring and striping him with their joyful teeth marks
and losing his mandible under the fold-out sofa.
My girlfriends tolerate him.
After all, he's dead, and won't start any stupid crap about threesomes.
The next door kids ask for him sometimes,
and they bowl him at empty pop bottles in the driveway.
I confess, though,
that late at night, when it's stormy, and I'm alone,
I pause before bouncing him down the basement stairs, and I say,
"Thank you, Skully,
for keeping me from having to be alone
in the years before I bloomed into my need for heart, flesh, soul,
and not just solid bone."
Then I lay one on his grinning kisser
and even add a little tongue
just to tease him
for the lack that made me leave him like a southbound bird
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:07 PM UTC
I saw Agnes outside Harrods
Looking tres chic, le chic
I say darling, what's happening, sweetie
where's your Wainpatrik from the sticks
our erudite writer who thinks aspic is pate
I gave that hick the 'go find your level'
Agnes replied with a smile
You know how it is with him and his drivel
that coarse, crude, pretentious oik without a shovel
He tries to be intelligent but his head is full of gravel
bathes once a fortnight and has a todger like a weasel
You can't beat good breeding, she continues
those reconstituted barrow-boys
with B-Tech English thinking they are now genuine
Lacks confidence, style, self assurance, wet as the Rhine
******* in the boudoir, sloppy kisser, todger like a string
Bully and a coward trolling on his stolen PC, has no spine
Hey, lets **** down round my pad, she purred
You may be out of shape at the moment
But who's cooler, more charismatic and interesting than vous
Do you know you're the best I have ever had and I mean it too
You're head and shoulders above Wainputrid and that's so true
The twerp is so envious of you, he and his barrow mates stew
Tales of your exploits and size just leaves them aghast and askew
Hahaha...haha..she laughs as she linked arms, a glint in her eyes!
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
No, heart, no brains and no courage
Friends, Romans, Countrymen lend me your hears
Allow me to introduce the Queen of Truth
Your majesty, you are the fairness of them all
Such an honor to be your Lord Chancellor
Thus, I beckon your call
Your highness and sweet gratefulness
I take great pleasure
In serving you, my lady
Indeed, I am at you services,
Day or night, and
Your wish is by command, and
I wish you longevity
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
From the helter skelter
In a helter skelter dash
For solitude at the esker
I strayed in a labyrinth
Of dark soaring woods
Here-upon, trees begun to move!
An optical illusion it seemed to be,
Though a moment my eyes did love;
But in a mean time, out of kilter
Was the avenue to the esker.
Wandering midst soaring woods
Serendipitously there I beheld
An elegant creature,
A creature with a velvety
Pale unblemished skin,
Lilly white as porcelain,
Gaily yet opalescent as an opal,
With curling glossy auburn hair,
Mellifluously whispering a lullaby
With verve in the wanton air
Whilst flapping her wings
To take wing.
On feasting about her impeccable face,
It thus dawned upon me:
"She was not of this our world
But an alien, an angel rom outer space."
Swiftly, I gravitated towards her
And unto her said I was lost,
Lost like leaves beneath the frost
Upon my way for solitude at the esker
However the sheer cynosure
She'd taken my fancy
Hence moonstruck for sure.
She gagged me, cwtched me,
Enveloped me in her wings
And merrily took wing
Whilst I gallantly kissed,
Kissed her nectar kisser.
Past mullbery skies we soared,
All the way unto her land of bliss
Where upon we swam naked,
Naked in halcyon waters,
Waters of her land.
Together, we made poetry
Of love and life so blind,
Cherishing moment after moment
One could search forever to find,
Whilst gallivanting from star to star,
Only alone by ourselves on yonder
To a very distant colourful clime,
Yonder beyond restrictions of time.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
She's a messy lover.
She's most beautiful
in wrinkled sheets
and unmade beds.
With tangled hair,
chapped lips,
and confidence,
she draws you close.
She's a slow kisser.
She savors
every breath
you draw from each other,
until you're
living inside of her
and her inside of you.
She's the painting
that was never finished,
but is somehow
a ******* masterpiece.
She's a puzzle
that you'll never figure out,
and for that
you'll only desire her more.
She will
tame you with her charm,
frighten you with her truth,
and
make you fall in love with her,
because
you will never find a woman
as
simply complex
as her...
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:04 AM UTC
Paper.
Is canvas so white,
I ruin what it is every time that i write.
Or create what it had the potential to be...art.
So she breaks me down.
Uncreates someone that had potential to be...smart
but dumbed down,
lower than the ground,
to appease his main squeeze.
Everytime she came around,
it was like he lost his ground;
and with lost ground comes broken dreams.
Broken hearts and unspoken things,
that needed to be said.
I cant believe the things I've heard or seen.
mother ******
**** kisser.
**** sucker.
used to love her,
now I miss her,
every hot summer.
Every cold winter,
to hold so close.
Like a puzzle we would fit we could sit nose to nose,
and not say a word,
not move one muscle,
we would still find a way to get us into trouble.
The better we were,
the worse that we got.
However clever our harsh words were,
we always worried a lot.
When things got too good,
we hurried to stop.
And blame got very,very blurry a lot.
Our own worst enemy.
Or are we?
Who are we?
We’re not we.
We are you and me.
Separate as could be,
ill be a,
you and you be z
because you see...
we were a canvas so white.
You ruined what we were
with the habits and the fights.
Now we is a past tense term,
that isn't spoken
because its known when,
brought up
the subject takes a wrong turn.
And things are said that were never meant.
Ego’s tongue spits out its two cents.
But more than two or three or four,
so many cents we’re talking dollar stores.
So many ups downs all arounds,
peaks and valleys,
so many smells and sounds,
that equal you.
Like a sequel taking me back to the first time,
the very first case of some stomach butterflies.
But now i feel empty,
so empty down inside.
If you hadn’t marked this canvas,
this blank white canvas of mine.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 3:16 AM UTC
You
I can't ever describe quite right
I don't know that words do you justice
Or perhaps I need an expanded vocabulary
You
The subject of my day dreams
I have quite the imagination
And we're the stars of everything
You
Are strong at heart
Would be there if I needed you
Are beautiful inside and out
You
I can trust with me
Still to find out
If I can trust you with my heart
You
Are an amazing kisser
And I just want to be with you
But I have to learn to be apart
You
Aren't perfect
Because that doesn't exist
But I think you could be perfect for me
You
Could find someone else
That scares me
Because I want to be yours
You
Make me freeze
And not know what to say
When I see you
You
Let me be me
Which I'm thankful for
Because I need that
You
I could go on and on about
And I have, but to save my sanity,
This is all for now.
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 9:53 PM UTC
I steal the blanket on warm or cold nights with no regrets.
I’m a good kisser, but probably much worse in bed than
I believe. I wish you would believe in God. Stranger,
the air pressure is lower next to skyscrapers. When you leap
off, the building ***** you back and slams your body
against it. Again and again. My grandfather’s safe stands hidden,
built into an end-table at my brothers house. I have always wanted
to open it. A friend I once loved wants to swim naked with me
in three of the five great lakes. I want to take her down the west coast
on a motorcycle. If I could afford it, I would only wear underwear
made from bamboo plants. Both soft and eco-friendly. Green ones.
In 2004, I stopped talking to a girl I kissed. Second kiss. The
last time I saw her was during a fire-drill on Halloween.
She was wearing a cat-costume. Black. Please come find me.
We danced when younger. My legs swung wildly
beneath my knees. The scuffs on my shoes always remind me.
There is a photograph in my mother’s house of me flying
through the air on a skateboard. My mother was so scared
and proud in those moments. We still don’t get along.
I am not strong enough to tie my feet to science and jump.
In the moments of falling, I need God. I know I would fall
too fast to cross myself. The truth is, at the end of the night,
I am always afraid. I hold the pillow at different angles to feel better.
I make different shapes. Some nights I don’t sleep at all.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
I am my mother's only daughter
fear of the love, fear of the water
the wildest laughters and the sweetest of kisses,
the innocence my father misses
I am the kisser of skies,
open arms, open eyes
I am the shaker of your bones
sing me there, sing me home
shakenness and gentle wear,
steady my heartbeat, steady me there
I am the words before your lips,
careful whispers, restless hips
joyful fear and fearful laughter,
I am the heart whose stops you're after.
I am the kisser of skies,
open arms, opened sighs
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Would you care to know...
that my favorite color is green?
that good music sends a tingle up my spine?
that I love the ocean passionately?
that I always take cold showers and I love them?
that I collect mugs of all shapes and sizes and
that my recent favorite says "grouch" on it?
that I am loving and caring?
that stepping on crunchy leaves makes me smile?
that looking at my toes does too?
that my favorite places to get kissed are on my cheek, nose, and forehead?
that I sing and play the ukulele?
that I love to cuddle?
that I write poetry?
that my cookies and pancakes are the bomb diggety?
that I say bomb diggety?
the word "pudding" makes me laugh?
that I write quotes on my bathroom mirror?
that I sleep with a teddy I've had for 16 years?
that I'm stronger than you think I am?
that you don't know me in the least?
Or, would you rather care to know...
that I am vulnerable?
that I'm a great kisser?
that I have "experience"?
that I can make your night?
or would you rather not?
And just take me
No questions asked,
No exchange but that of the body
Then none forever after?
If those are your wishes, then you don't deserve me in the least.
And I am not making you pancakes.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 1:32 AM UTC
I'm sorry for when I called
you an *******
Even though it was my fault
and I was having a 'bad day'.
I'm sorry I never responded to 5
that text.
When you said I was a
good kisser, but I think you too.
I'm sorry I'm short
because of hereditary. 10
Because it means you have
to stoop, I to lean, for us to kiss.
I'm sorry I'm not taller to see
your green-hazel eyes.
The eyes are the window to 15
the soul, but I don't have one.
I'm sorry for playing guitar
so badly.
But no one has ever told me to
stop, so I never did. 20
I'm sorry for not keeping tally
on the McD vs. KFC fight.
For the amounts of hits and
misses, each response had back.
I'm sorry for never saying upfront; 25
I love you.
But you don't love me, because
Who could? Not an angel like you.
I'm sorry for not liking punk music
all that much. 30
I want to understand, but 'Sixteen
Candles' doesn't appeal.
I'm sorry for not crying
at TFIOS.
Augustus was beautiful, Hazel too, 35
But cancer doesn't scare me.
I'm sorry for not talking about
your personal crisis.
When all I feel I do is
Talk about 'The Other' with you. 40
I'm sorry for being a
narcissist.
For being me. ME. ME! All the time,
When you are so much more interesting.
I'm sorry for being a 45
*****
For what I didn't mean to say,
That might have made you cry.
I'm sorry for being a
misogynist. 50
And for hating men too. And
for all I've ever said against the human race.
I'm sorry for sighing
so much.
It's just I'm tired of 55
Everything I do. I'm done.
I'm sorry for talking to you when you wanted
to talk to friends.
But being the gentleman you are,
Didn't tell me to go away. 60
I'm sorry for wasting your
time.
When you could have being speaking,
playing, dreaming, sleeping, living.
I'm sorry for you knowing 65
me.
And talking to me at all. Because I'm a spider,
Slowly ******* the life out of you.
I'm sorry for existing
here. 70
Or just existing at
all.
I'm sorry for being
sorry.
Because I know you hate it when I 75
apologize for the things I say.
I'm sorry for living
at all.
Because all I do is drain your optimism,
And replace it with cynical thoughts. 80
I'm sorry for breathing.
I'm sorry for writing this poem.
I'm sorry that you know me.
I'm sorry for it all.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
A serpentine beauty, lips painted
with psychedelic poison-
is soul kissed; wanton kisser,
hides a stiletto behind his back.
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 8:47 AM UTC
sext: "want me to come over? I have blunts!"
why not, why not have over a guy who I met 4 days ago?
beautiful eyes, expensive car, ****
just the thought of my heart fluttering a thousand miles a minute,
the effects of the drug indistinguishable from my reaction to physical contact,
was enough for me to open my door (and my legs) to this boy
he was an okay kisser.
he (attempted) to pleasure me before himself.
he was confused as to why I didn't **** him.
he left right after he finished.
he hasn't texted me since.
we didn't even get high.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC