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gothic mistress Nov 2010
no slavering kisses

like a dog on heat

no schoolboy fumble

wanting you to beat his meat.

no ***** in the dark

or a letch to grab your ****

no rancid breath,nor sweaty skin

to grasp you in his mits.

just you and your fingers

and your own ***** vices

pure ecstacy of loving yourself

with your battery op devices.

it is all in the touch

the rhythm of your wrist

the way your body squirms

giving a wriggle to your hips.

a gasp n moan

******* brings you pleasure

frustrated tensions fade away

as you fiddle at your leisure.

reaching your crescendo

a throb a pant a sigh

eyes slightly misted

youre at your dizzying high.

copyright gothicmistress 2010
jessiah Sep 2014
Dastardly shovel
Mine blister inaugurator
Hand twisting back blazing wretch

Oh, the oasis pool
Cool; are you crystal clean, heaven seem
To this pyramid bottom letch?

Dean swims jolly fat
Pharaoh tan lazy landlubber ham lover
Fat ****** life quite a catch

Shovel I should launch you
Waterwards rust absurd curb lust
To watch you bust in a watery death

Maybe not before a cannonball
Six-foot tall water wall a lot of gall
You got kid, did you learn to save your breath?

Hide away from this blue collar day
Backbreak reality returns, furnace fanfare
Sailor sweat jumping ship not a hand left
7/?/2000

Thought this fit a Labor Day theme if any
Graff1980 Jan 2017
I am Bacchus intoxicated letch of the Greek Gods reborn.
In my drunken stupor I have fallen many times;
Succumbed to the charms of Goddesses reincarnate.
From the strict slick ice queen Shiva aka an engaged Christina
Destroyer of my soul, and its inspiration at the same time
Made me feel like your lover, should’ve seen the pain coming
Never should have let you in. In one fell swoop you cut my spirit.
With a cold stares you stabbed my stubborn stone heart,
And made me bleed agony like wine from a bejeweled chalice.
Christina, of all who cut me few had touched me physically.
You were hard to overcome, my cheap and ***** maiden.
Pale flesh tarnished with your many affairs before and after me.
Within a year’s time you had severed the emotional chord,
But there were others like the goddess Discord shifting seamstress
Of light and dark, daring dangers to inflame my heart.
User, trickster I will never really miss her, and her name will not be spoken.
My affections for her were merely a passing token. What a relief
That I never loved that immoral immortal ****** thief.
Amanda oh Amanda. My idiot Athena. My warrior queen.
My military goddess. We never consummated our love
Because you never loved me. With a whisper and a line
You kept me holding on; let you go one day and the next you would phone
Came back different then when you left, like a new you grew
From Zeus’ skull more powerful, darker than before.  For you I ceased to exist.
Rend my heart to pieces and instead I wished that I was dead.
That all those feeling could be shoved aside and never again remembered.
That your apathy had been fury and in your rage I was dismembered.
Jessica my dear Demeter harvester of my strange and deranged soul.
You were the first to slake my ****** thirst, hour lost to carnal lust.
I am sorry, that I was wired wrong and your love was not enough.
You deserved more than I ever gave you and of all my loves,
You are the only one who ever loved me back, so I am sorry.
Farther back than that is my greatest love swift and strong Artemis.
Actually I hope you never read or even see this.
Holly so holy a dream. With ***** red hair and freckled flesh,
With a kind heart that I will never forget. The first friend there to inspire my love.
The first soul I adored. You never wounded me, never scarred my heart
Never used, or abused, abandoned, or confused me with mind games or forgetfulness.
I will never touch you soft skin, or make you smile, but most of all I will never forget this
Yours was the first, the strongest, the deepest, the longest river in my heart, and the highest kindness.
For that you have many eternities worth of my love. The greatest goddess of all maybe
Your were actually Aphrodite.
andy fardell Feb 2011
They creep and follow where none do go
the shadows hunt the light no show
I felt them want to take my depth reachin ..wanting darkness letch
pray that light does shine on through ..the shadows follow wanting you

Feel ther coldness and so cold ..darkness has its brand new hold
wrapping slowly round it goes ..taking light and turnin old
wrinkles soon do so appear..aging you and breathing fear
leave the light on so I say and shadows oh just go away
EP Mason Feb 2014
Hereby, the night is my Valentine
and what I lack in love song
I hear in the harsh wind's lullaby.
I see the moon letch out the ivory tusk of night
and the ashen clouds will cradle the stars
and lay upon the words I write.
Then the welkin whisked the blackened embers
thus the moon became my spirit guide
creating spring from bleak December's
my night proposal, then my morning bride
© Erin Mason 2014
andy fardell Dec 2012
They creep and follow
Where none do go
The shadows hunt
The light no show

I felt them want to
take my depth
Reaching wanting darkness
Letch

Pray that light does shine on
through
The shadows follow
Wanting you

Feel their coldness
And be cold ..
Darkness has its brand new
Hold

Wrapping slowly round you go
Taking light and turning old
Wrinkles soon do so appear.
Aging you and breathing fear

Leave the light on
Do be scared
Shadows watching
Waiting near
bass sic cully, plucking strings iz a ja
Cane Nines Har Able
   To Out Best playing cello yo yo Ma
so stated by this fretful pa

Ode per pooch pounding ruff
   sounding sub woofer.
Whew - all done taking a leak
   behind bushes of favorite vetch
tub bull patch so now,

   arf goes me dog gone
   bark a roll and ruff sketch
shod ye be least bit interested in this retch
in this faux paused muttering mongrel,

who (despite viscous rumors to the contrary)
nada a leech nor letch
boot actually quite a "good" fetch
and a fine prairie home companion –

even if yar tail got docked
   with out anesthesia by a pretty lass see
still...Yukon feel melancholy
nonetheless juiced buffer end me
like ya know throw
   a ***** en re:coe Fermi can catch.

Me - iz one hippie dawg,
who sports hair reed style like a veil
longish, and minimally groomed,
asper an antagonistic,
sans brothers Grimm tale

with no intent to rant nor rail
searching fur gallivanting
   female nursery rhyme minus a quail
boot...with jack and his pail,

which known storybook
   quite old as a rusty nine-inch nail
stating dogmatic, humanistic and lyric words
once adored by this older Socratic male

offers himself as a bona fide
   potential Petsmart call soul mate hale
and hearty without any major Def Jam ***** fail
yore, beardless yet scruffy,

   I wear spectacles rather bifocals bare
lee stay put on me snout
   to see the world more crystal clear
especially when chaste
   to impress a ***** in heat -

   like ye mud dear
whom height welcome
   letting me nibble on one or t'other ear
of yours, now trotting along on my yipping badinage
whim per with poetic trademark flair,

which doggerel seems unstoppable probably
from a malfunction milk bone shaped cerebral gear
aye attest trademark viz
   somewhat long wavy, course brown hair

might also involve well tangled follicular roots
affirming me to hear snapping jeer
ring boxer bullies, which floppy mop top in tandem
to firm undersized gluteus maximus or hmm rear
oft times incites other mongrels to stare

yet, the ability to camouflage
Ike **** sitter a bonus, akin to a camel lion
or if you prefer chameleon,
this trait stems when Aztec,
   my faux pas amidst Mayan

Runic ruins, where traipsing
   for long stretches of time
ah stopped to chat with Ryan
a local junkyard hound, which
   at human years over 100 keeps on tryin

to survive within
   dog eat horse meat world,
where canines sprang from wolverine zoo
and as a complete stranger introduced muss elf
as "man's best friend" to you

from a place in mind known as xandu
which could afford room enough for two
if ye would only stand or sit in this queue
similar to waiting in a cloistered pew

But better grab a place
   before places number few
from those who utter yabba dabba do.
I blithely admit not to be a stud
just a recent emigre hoisted himself out of the mud
from that antediluvian flood

like some garden variety muggle
   with a male member dud
but rather a regular bovine chewing his cud
and just wanna be a companionable bud.
no intent to be neither indecent nor lewd,

which rapid-fire reply
   helps my anxiety-riddled mood
unsure what level of interest exists
   toward this ordinary dude
for reasons and rhymes,
   i scratch my flea gnawed head and brood.
most people find my poetic attempts unclear

and get quite frazzled - with nostrils that flair
like some fire breathing dragon
   filled with rage and glare
all on account of human desire for friendship,

and some woman for me to care
which closeness worth
   far more than gems, jewels and trinkets
so...if a safe risk taking mood,
i would be interested for ye to share.

literary enjoyment and
   entertainment primary reason i write
from a little known wayfarer
that trawls the virtual seas this night

whereby my being pitched to and fro
which forces necessity
   to hold on with all me might.
care not for this playful male
ye seem quite desperate a guy to nail,

I could benefit from someone
to play the role of inxs bare naked lady
and super *****
   (ah bet she iz jist a cheap trick),
this jack rustle of no trades
   could enjoy a gal to hold his pale.
oh...fair and lovely princess

   in this surreal and virtual space
might thee put down the drawbridge
with mush ado of a quick pace
and no need to feign shock
   nor surround thyself
with defenses to brace
against some maliciousness on my part -

just a wandering troubadour able, eager, ready
willing to show his smart pedigreed fact sheet,
and maybe even other parts of his anatomy
with dignity and amazing grace.

Sangfroid persona makes joie de vivre
the perfect human to adopt, and more fun than a wii
ill that chased a monkey named zee
row, who aims tubby yar beau.
unknown Feb 2014
How many times
How many times
How many times did I have to write about suicide just so I wouldn't do it?
Like every night.
Convincing myself I didn't like the idea
Flush depression out and it re-ups
Psychiatrists are my dealers
As I’m rhyming this I’m drinking from a tea cup with my demons
I wish you could meet us
But you’d probably have to be us

Your arms are bandages but you’re also what the damage is from
We fight each other like savages
I think our paths were an accident
I don’t think this was suppose to happen at all
cuz we were I was from the back left and you were from the front right
cuz I’m a reclusive going in the wrong direction and you’re naturally in the spotlight going in the right direction
Maybe this is life’s correction
But I won't let you slip by
I wont letch ya’

I’m addicted to you and now I got some sort of home sickness making me feel like **** so ******* for making me love you...
Until you’re close enough for me to hug you again
Psychiatrists are my dealers
Re-ups after re-ups

Up the dosage
Just enough to O.D

Drinking tea cups with my demons
People can meet us
Try to give give us advice but unless they figure out a way to be us,
they’ll never understand
Never understand
Never understand
I swear my angels come and laugh
Until I pull up their masks
Their masks


******* for making me love you
******* for making me love you
**** your for making me love you

Up the dosage

“You’re developing psychosis”

I know this
**** reality
I don’t wanna hold this
Mash up between two poems I wrote that felt incomplete.
vhcgjhf Jul 2015
a hound stretches on a stoop
frozen, lacking a cadenced pant
sun splaying its last beams against
skin, warm tin and damp rigor mortis

the letch inside stammers,
retches

his yellowed nails scratch scabs
on flaking elbows
dried snakeskin platelet scales

too much residue
of asbestos and mildew, of
burnt gilded pages for heat
'cause they were of little use
to illiterate plainclothe'd sleuths

and the crows outside caw
with anemic splendor as
their ***** broods grovel


the inebriate inside
draws open dingy curtains
for the sun was finally subdued

he opens the window
to a finicky drizzle

and was interrupted by horse & buggy
and the tangling of her rosettes
transfixing voracious, beady eyes
as objects of interest phased out of view

we heard all this through the grey horseshoes
trudging through forgotten alleyways
all too loud and dramatic


we watched from fog outside
the ****** tavern where they drank
blood straight from the stomachs of lampreys
downing life, agnostics proudly clapped, with
death and decay on a parsley'd dinner plate

lingering in the hospital waiting room
for an embellished platter of viscera
to fill vacancies, with burnt rot
with a sterile, surgical tang
and jagged accoutrements
all are gorging lovingly,
already anticipating dessert

each solitary phantasm of a person, slouching in booths, on stools
smirks knowingly at the song that's now playing on the a.m. radio
while positioning their utensils, scooping, filling cavernous maws

and they all smiled
as their eyes gasped
as those outside
chipped their teeth
on rusted forks, and sighed

the dead ounce of liveliness failed to
take hold of its slouching bags of bones
and the coyote howled at the sound of the siren curfew

so listen carefully to the inflection of static hissing
the joyful crackle of disembodied voices

— The End —