"knockers" poems
*****
I like ***** I like ****
before you touch, you must get permits.
Nothing like a nice pair of assets,
oh how puppies make nice pets.
Bazongas are ***** that are large,
strippers and hookers, will always charge.
Nothing like the perfect *****
but only on the perfect woman.
******* are yummy dark or white,
but first you must wait for an invite.
Some girls even have a third ******
do not squeeze says Mr. Whipple.
I don't mind girls on the itty, bitty, ***** committee,
on a carpenters dream, I show no pity.
They could be called a bust, some call them cans,
a woman's squeeze box, all men are fans.
Chesticles is a term I have never heard,
but everyday, I learn a new word.
I like cones, I like jugs,
girls with big ones, I give hugs.
Al Bundy loved calling them *******
at the restaurant, I wish I was one of the recruiters.
A girl with a nice set of knockers,
might find herself with unwanted stalkers.
Fergie sang about her lovely lady lumps,
a good set of melons, still give me goose bumps.
***** always come in a pair,
why do bra's, they have to wear.
Even men who smoke lots of crack,
still can appreciate a good sized rack.
I don't care if there fake or real.
in a crowded room, I always cop a feel.
Girls love showing off some cleavage,
I wish I lived in a ***** village.
Babies need breast milk to make them stronger,
if the mom is hot, they may do it longer.
In conclusion, I love *****
with whipped cream or melting ice cubes.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
What could be worse
Than a garden
Full of gnomes and trolls?
Is it:
Lawn jockeys and yardells;
Chuck adjusting his carb every Sunday afternoon;
Bathtub ****** Marys beseaching us to love;
Metal flowers on outside garage walls;
Fish ponds with gills in the filter;
Red gravel flowerbeds with little white fences;
Cosmetic door knockers;
Swimming pools without diving boards;
Mirrors on fences;
Burning ******* in fire pits;
Backyard landfills;
Icicle lights;
Weedy neighbours and an east wind;
The screech of tires;
The thump of metal;
The sound of screaming;
The absence?
Yeah. Plenty could be worse.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
*The old cottage over the hillock
Winding and cobbled road to the top
The teak and mahogany in splendor
Vintage style overlooking the modernity
Lion door knockers awakes the silence
Surrounded by antique furniture
In retrospect, says about its eloquent glory
Giving competition to modern architecture*
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
My sister never had any boyfriends
which was quite surprising really you know
because she had a nice pair of knockers
and a very cute little **** on her
but never once a gentleman caller
came knock knock knock on her friendless portal.
So I asked her what was the ******* score
that no butch lads wanted to part her bush
and whyfore was she not barking for it
in a vague manner of ******* speaking
and she told me to glue my keen peepers
on her keyhole the next night to find out.
Thus I knelt down before her bedroom door
my eye glued to the appropriate hole
with a full view of her "sleepezee" bed
on which she casually lay spread out
legs opened like a major T-junction
and then her friend appeared to my rapt joy.
I gasped in wonder as her lesby love
straddled my **** sis and gave her tongue
a good chance to lick out her womb entrance
causing me to indulge in self-abuse
as their eager mutual ***********
gave way to some red hot ***** action.
(I hope they didn't hear the noisy splats
as I squirted my lovejuice onto the doorpost)
Good taste, eh?
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
sweet, slender, beautiful
the words he picks from the meadow
carefully and purposefully wrapping them in paper
he carries them to the doorstep of my heart
lays them softly on the mat
and knocks on the door
the paint is crisp, the knocker untouched until now
the whole house wakes, the sound reverberating throughout
i scoop up the flowers, arrange them in a vase
place them in the biggest room with the most light,
only the best for my treasure, my first bouquet
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
On our knees, working the naked Ken
to mount the clueless Barbie, making
them moan, screaming, "O! O! O! O!"
Dumb toothsome puppets, self-satisfied,
bubble gum Corvette, her small *** huge knockers,
and nothing proven or dared, solving
bodies unlike those we pushed so hard against —
me and my Easy Bake, you and your erector set.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
My father used to take me fishing;
i can remember it clearly:
bleary eyed wakeups at 2:30 a.m.
after preparations late into
the night prior, the
smell of gasoline
as the outboard motor
sputtered to life,
its deafening roar as we
raced the sun along the
river's length.
The eery silence that followed.
Because we rarely talked.
We were fishing.
Dad loved largemouth bass,
red-breasted bream, catfish,
shell-cracker, warmouth,
stump-knockers, and
whatever else.
i enjoyed fishing, too.
But we rarely talked.
Time moved on, and us with it.
And there was less time for
us to go fishing together.
Years passed, and i said
to myself, -i said it
very clearly, i did- i said,
*self, we need to go fishing
soon.
There is at least one more big fish
out there that i am after.*
i even mentioned it to my father.
Let's go soon, i said...
-Yeah, that sounds good.-
but we both knew we wouldn't.
Time moved on, and us with it.
And there was less time for
us to go fishing together.
On the day of my father's funeral,
there were many surprised faces
upon my arrival.
They thought i had gone off fishing,
but i knew the river had run dry.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Your giant leap for mankind
Was my exile in a pillbox
A stasis of dead-ends and
Reckless door-knockers
Undifferentiation
Hallucination
Annihilation
Apocalypse of self
Over-man or Under-man
Can’t hide from the super-group
Who prematurely created him-
A slave in their time loop
Moving to keep from standing still
Blame it on a quicksilver mind
Day or night it’s machinery
Starving to be bled and blind
Initiation
Fragmentation
Annihilation
Apocalypse of self
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
It always makes me wake up when it hits;
When a rivulet of sweat runs between my ****
I wake up thinking some bug is walking there
Because it tickles my manly bit of chest hair.
Guys are built much different than the rest.
We are not supposed to have issues with our chest.
But here I am trying to get some sleep
Suddenly aware my cleavage is too deep.
Stuff is happening backwards that should not
What we supposed to do with this mess we’ve got?
Something’s got the world all upside down.
God must be a freaky circus clown.
Regardless of some nasty radio rants
I have no problem with women wearing pants.
And in life today as I have always seen
The woman is often the boss, big and mean.
And I have heard, in current affairs and state
That men can even, in time, learn to lactate.
But this one situation in which I have *******
Threatens to unhinge and drive me a bit loopy.
I guess, with time, I will someday get accustomed.
And I know some old ideas need to be jettisoned.
But I never expected that this would be a year
For me to go get fitted for an absorbent brassiere.
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 9:42 PM UTC
North, south, east, west
Above my belly button, middle my sternum.these ain't mulligans
pardon points son you cause
You gotta earn em.
Need to have stones like
Big brass knockers.
Bollicks.
Heart
Chutzpah.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
It has only been two weeks since we had met
in that grand house full of irksome snobs
you a concertmaster soprano, me a lonely poet
your eyes and lips requested me to watch you perform
so a week later I went to the concert hall
it was an rendition of Mozart's The Magic Flute
she was playing the part of sweet Pamina
her voice fluttered like butterfly wings
I have seen many versions of this opera
yet I have never seen one like hers ever
the first time seen in my life Ach,ich fuhl's
such a touching piece performed *******
my heart was pounding in my mouth
sweat formed upon my brow
I did not know if I was in heaven or hell
I stood up when she finished and shouted bravo
what a pair of knockers what a wonderful show
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 7:15 AM UTC
Make dreams,
take dreams,
create them yourself.
Runes for ditherers.
Whispers on raindrops.
flowers on breezes.
Birthday boys and pretty girls.
Wearing bright white crop tops.
Bright pink cheeks and twisted curls.
Haircuts and elastic.
Fashion trends.
Cheap shop friends.
Call centre workers,
out to make an easy buck.
Poking folks.
Killing jokes.
He's preaching the end of the world.
How dare he be so bold.
To visit my front door,
garbage paper in hand.
The devil to capture have and hold,
hangs in the watchtower.
From this day, now and forever,
The aged leather sofa plethora of all sold lies.
Invite them not in, briefcase duos.
perfect smile.
See them coming run a mile.
Or just ignore the door.
(c) Livvi
This is obviously just my own opinion.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
I think Women are Hot and.
Should be shown respect
And all though I get *****
I take time to Listen
Can't get into Sports Teams
Know's what fashion is a Dream
Of Bob Mackie, Calvin Klien
Versace, Chanel, and Ralph Lauren
In the Kitchen I create with Panache
Tenderloin of Beef with Marsalle Sauce
Vintage Recipe Chocolate Cake at
Proper Temperature I Bake 'til Perfect
And shopping is a Spree as
Long as its not for me
Rather Shop a Bra for a set of knockers
Then Shop for a Pair of Kahki Dockers
When it Comes to Culture I am Allured
To Poetry, Art, Music and Stage
And so ever fond of thespians
Could it Be I'm a Male Lesbian
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
when i take a lady out to drink
i don't want to see a drunk
i'd rather see a lady
that knows how to have fun
when i lay down with a lady
under beautiful glistening stars
id rather watch her twirl her hair
then shake her...you know...knockers
when i kiss a lady on the lips
id rather see her smile
then put on a **** outfit
and show me she gets wild
but when i show a lady how i love
theres only one reaction i get
and that is that she always shows me
shes got spirit with a kiss
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Miss Pinkie
pours me scotch
in a glass
any ice?
no thank you
I slip slow
allowing
to swirl round
my twenty six
year old mouth
she sits down
beside me
she wears that
polka dot
red short dress
and the blue
cardigan
her dyed brown
cropped hair style
want music?
got Mahler?
yes of course
she gets up
and puts on
a Mahler
symphony
on her old
gramophone
as she bends
I spy red
underwear
unattached
to the light
brown stockings
she comes back
and sits down
Mahler starts
lights are low
can I smoke?
sure you can
she replies
I light up
so does she
how is she?
she asks me
who is that?
the slim girl
at the home
pretty thing
all brains but
no knockers
Miss Pinkie
says softly
we just talk
I reply
about what?
poetry
modern art
politics
is that all?
yes that's all
she inhales
and stares cool
exhaling
any ***
of course not
not with her
why not her?
I don't know
we're silent
Mahler plays
we smoke on
sip whiskies
I study
her two chins
her blue eyes
her thick thighs
the last time
we had ***
she mutters
it was good
on the couch
till you fell
to the floor
half way through
she was right
'bout that night
MAN LIFEBOATS
MAN OVERBOARD
she shouts out
too loudly
she stubs out
the wasted
cigarette
so do I
how about
my big bed?
she asks me
if you like
I reply
thinking of
the slim girl
with the brains
and hot ***
in the back
of her car
that image
in my head
as we walk
to her bed
her plump ****
swaying slow
to Mahler
the moonlight
in the sky
this is how
the world ends
no big bang
just a long
drawn out sigh.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
God,
(I'm not praying, I'm mourning)
It is exactly 1:04 in the morning
and 37 seconds
and I can't even ******* sleep
and there is no one that I can talk to who understands me
because the people that do,
stopped caring when I started trying. . .
I'm writing this here on this piece of paper or computer screen
(whichever you choose)
because I ******* miss you.
And I know that you would yell at me if you heard that word
come out of my mouth
but I would rather you yell
than not say nothing at all. . .
**** **** ******
You're still not yelling so that means you must
really be gone. . .
It's 1:09 now, dad
and 17 seconds
and I have school tomorrow
but I can't sleep because you always ******* haunt my thoughts
and I used to think that I wanted to **** myself
because I thought I could be with you when I die
cause you said we could meet again in heaven,
you remember that, right?
Sure you do, that was one of your
last ****** days on this earth
But now that I don't believe in heaven
or hell
or maybe even God,
what have I got to die for?
In fact, what the hell do I even have to live for?
You're so ******* gone and
it ******* hurts
and maybe it makes me a ****** poet to write
so many curse words in a poem.
You would scold me if you read this.
But you can't read this,
and you're not scolding me
and you're not even ******* here anymore.
You're just gone,
and God,
I need you to hug me and tell me it's all okay
and call me your little girl one last time
and let me see you ******* wasted
off your knockers one last time
and let me come home to find you broke into our house again
and let me listen to you yell at my mother
once more. . .
God, maybe this makes me a bad person
but I would take anything just to have you back.
I ******* miss you. . .
and no matter how hard I try
I can not put down in words the immense
seering pain that I have felt.
It's 1:17 a.m
and who ******* cares about the seconds.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
Do you get discouraged when you write?
Do you feel that when you write people are being too polite?
The bottom line if you can distinguish letters and turn them into words
You are thinking with an imaginary surge
If you can write a business letter then you know how to write
If you imagination takes you to a place then you know how to excite
The statement is writing with authority and taking your thoughts with what you know
Remember you are the illustrator being the show
The inventor with a surprise mind
Use whatever creative resources that is combined
Settle for but keep thinking as you explore
Negativity is something you should ignore
Turn the knock at the door and write like never before
The refreshing breeze while standing on the shore
A writing tablet offering you expelling ideas
Destiny with a journey
Business at hand with the pen
Never say you can’t
Start with efforts in try and it will determine you can
The knock out punch with your writing starting at once
When other people try to discourage you and say you can’t write
Tell them don’t be jealous and uptight
Negative thoughts means some people aren’t bright
Follow your dreams and go with your heart
Take your hand and just write until done
Join the many Poets and Writers and be among
Write about what you know or how you feel
You control the dialog in being a big deal
Your Coach says write until when and conclude at the end
“Your Writing lives and you survived your own muse”.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
& now for young ladies in love & Wedded
w / naked girls mothers, . Ethiopia's
Dead-Head days of the year of the number
of the goods to the poet's long coat,
Caledonia - The distance between a mother's
face White snooch fair ground in the dark
Green thought; Rose said girls the great city
in the world, the art of living in a flood lifts
the needy; American money to pay the skin
to the Sun; Specifically, they found that
choosing to be In the good old war,
a great abundance of them; God save you
sea hard Dream of Cătellus through the blood;
fire 1 young female stars in the Street
or hearing of the word, he thought,
was not a man, indeed, those who reach six
are said to live after breaking off the marriage,
what is The Turquoise is a local poet;
Watergate Cover-up Catholic
infancy at the height of the feet of the place
the stone of three sons, the arc; Leave
the Abbot General in The head of Medusa,
to show that he is truly man; These free from Most
wild Little Browns; The former star of the current
state gay Feeling the standing invisible
In cursive script writing by hand, Worms
The old pier when they are afraid, but my heart
'the cat's White was also the Secret
of the Consumer Voice; Lately a lot of guys
are wet; They were filled w/ a sweeter
sad mouth on the side of the window
knockers, However, is speakingof the Great
Plains; Deep between the Russian civil law;
Friends & blind dogs wearing mirrors to the
Heroic Virgin's Kiss, but the history of the
revolutionary time strippers & sending the
mother of all Strippers of a dog, the school
of Marcus; In the northwest of the island
Society Friends Dream of perfect modern
House Garden The girl gave birth & asked
to quit the evil behind the back of the daughters;
For the rich smell of unknown; The weather,
the fall of Horatio's World; Alchemy's mom
touched to meet Him speaking his mind in the air
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Apparitions seek the willing
As the willing seek confirmation
Psychics seek the opportunity
While opportunity seeks a door to knock on
Door knockers seek a helping hand
And helping hands seek desperate causes
Desperate causes seek lonely dreamers
Lonely dreamers seek romantic encounters
As romantic encounters seek lifetime commitments
Lifetime commitments seek walks in the rain ...blazing fires , tender hugs and lasting memories.
Lasting memories seek opportunities
to relive what once was
What once was seeks psychic
to confirm the apparitions willing...
If only it could be.....
As easy as...knocking on a door
For the lonely dreamers
And their lost causes.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 4:35 AM UTC