"lubricious" poems
As I gaze with wanting eyes
My mind begins to fantasize
In your thighs i long to be
My lips to roam them endlessly
Starting low then moving high
Intoxicated by your thighs
Caressing your perfect hips
While teasing your sweet ***** lips
This is where my heaven lies
With my face between your thighs
Oh so soft and lubricious
Absolutely delicious
I could spend eternity
Just worshiping your thighs with glee
Oh how happy I would be
To have your thighs, my fantasy
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 7:46 PM UTC
Against the saturated
Horizon of dawn,
Loitering in the dark timbre
Of emerging consciousness -
Dissipating somnolence
And preemptive despair,
Tacitly adumbrate the
Yawning abyss.
Chastened by the cunning and
Lubricious nihilism,
Igniting fermented provocations,
Silent subterfuge; death,
By mirth - the inane;
Lament of the mundane.
Fallow paradigms, accretions of
The last gasp -
Evaporating empty liturgies
Of suspicion;
Charity and equanimity -
Lost in confinement,
Triumphant avarice bearing
Descendants
Of intransigence;
Wielding imperious
Schemes of orthodoxy.
Pollard fragments of
Silken tapestry,
Miasma draped depression
Abridging;
Conversely,
Permuted flurries of anxiety
Dislodge
The vestiges of meaning
That abide
In brazen equivocation.
Tributaries of dogma reach
Their confluence,
Watershed moment,
Numinous effusion
Streams naked epiphany,
The precarious vision -
A gesture of providence,
Certainty and contingency;
Gratuitously derivative, life
Equals choice.
Verdant branches of intention;
And opportunity the vine,
Live forward -
The pen, my voice,
Piquant conduit pouring,
Exuberant wine.
Footprints found in givenness
Underline,
Penumbrae of my soul;
Mirrored silhouettes,
Thoughts and words engender;
And in verse adorn
Fecund soil, Line after line,
The cosmos altered,
Continuum of permanence -
Artist’s art articulating
Essence of my imagination,
I proliferate, I design
Phrases unique,
Participation mystique.
Words creating world,
The apparatus of infinity
Heidegger, ontologically precise,
Language -
The house of Being,
Ineffable, Promethean
Literary devise -
Envisioning possibility,
And abundance to allow,
I occur
Inhabit
Manifest
Future phenomena
Experienced as now.
©2008 & ©2011 W.S. Warner
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 2:02 PM UTC
"Your shapely, bootylicious thighs,
carved columns of lubricious butter,
shouldn't be left without gently caressed,
til covered all over with ruddy marks of desire,
just strawberry goosebumps for ignorant others"
When she snuggles closer to him, from the seat next,
as the train rocks and they rub,when gathering speed,
she sporting a marvelous mini dress engrossing his libido,
he whispers to her, who was all ears, "But my real object
of focus is the truth, that lurks where your thighs meet"
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
The moon came into the forge
in her bustle of flowering nard.
The little boy stares at her, stares.
The boy is starting hard.
In the shaken air
the moon moves her arms,
and shows lubricious and pure,
her ******* of hard tin.
"Moon, moon, moon, run!
If the gypsies come,
they will use your heart
to make white necklaces and rings."
"Let me dance, my little one.
When the gypsies come,
they'll find you on the anvil
with your lively eyes closed tight."
"Moon, moon, moon, run!
I can feelheir horses come."
"Let me by, my little one,
don't step on me, all starched and white!"
Closer comes the horseman,
drumming on the plain.
The boy is in the forge;
his eyes are closed.
Through the olive grove
comes the gypsies, dream and bronze,
their heads held high,
their hooded eyes.
Oh, how the night owl calls,
calling, calling from its tree!
The moon is climbing through the sky
with the child by the hand.
They are crying in the forge,
all the gypsies, shouting, crying.
The air is viewing all, views all.
The air is at the viewing.
3.4k
Special Art every soul must master,
To kiss better done slowly than faster.
Let me kiss your soft-like silk lips,
Deeply and romantically down to my finger tips.
Sweetly and smoothly as i taste your *******
Let me kiss them, tease them, rather simple.
Let me kiss your body inch by inch,
Gently till it tickles and start to flinch.
Let me little give you a peck,
On your sensitive and seductive **** neck.
Let me kiss you hungrily on your mouth,
Just to hear your romantic groaning shouts.
Your lips bowlike shaped and glossy,
Liptastic much lubricious and juicy.
Let me kiss them deeply and passionately,
Tongues touched tenderly and intimately.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 5:18 AM UTC
As i gaze with wanting eyes
My mind begins to fantasize
In your thighs i long to be
My lips to roam them endlessly
Starting low then moving high
Intoxicated by your thighs
Caressing your perfect hips
While teasing your sweet ***** lips
This is where my heaven lies
My face in between your thighs
Oh so soft and lubricious
Unbelievably delicious
I could spend eternity
Just worshiping your thighs with glee
Oh how happy I would be
To have your thighs, my fantasy
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 4:48 AM UTC
Her eyes transmit, his nerve ends become receptors.
Blood pumped in to his veins demands"Bring her closer"
His nostrils flare, lips get swollen,a tingle spreads all over.
A hotblooded woman, instinctively sense such moments.
Her eyes are now lit up by desire, laced with refined lust.
And lips acquire a luscious pout,colored a shade deeper.
Her eyes wink involuntarily,can't hold it there, they droop.
In a sudden weakness of eyes,both touch the waterline,close.
He could hear his heart beat faster,mercury rise is palpable.
From his inner sanctum,the beating of the drum is now louder.
Her eyes flare in the tremors that rock her to her very roots.
Those eyes are wet,the erupting spring of lubricious intent.
It's out in the open, neither him nor her could now pretend
Furtive glances do not ignite anything other than coy smiles
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Our Father
Woe! to these demonic determined downtrodden deceivers,
Woe! Oh Thine merciless mendicants of misery and maleficent mendacity
Woe! Oh common corrupt conniving cunning calumnious crusaders of crucifixion...
scurrilous screeds scribbling sorrows
The Lord will sharpen thou pencils...
Thou pocket protectors whilst melt into thine *******
Thou spectacles opaque and permanently smudged...with other assorted
myriad miseries
Thou mittens will be smitten with interminable degeneracy...
Oh languid leaders of licentious lubricious larceny..
Oh craving calculating copious concupiscent calumnious falsifiers...
Oh maudlin mocking manipulators, multitudinous marauding machinations
**Thy God is an angry God
a vengeful God
a jealous God**
Oh **** pots and gall! Oh sordid ****** insalubrious denizens of depraved degeneracy
Take heed thou names mightn't appear in the almighty book of life when judgement deigns an
opprobrious order of objurgation
terrible tragic tempestous tribulations of treachery
Oh Woe! Alas!
They are fallacious febrile fabricators, fallen , fragmented flawed fugacious furtive falsifiers!!
scalawags and rapscallions..rascals of ribaldry..forlorn fallen away backslidden recalcitrants…
Oh misguided miserable miscreants, maladies and agitation be thy lot!
This rant has been brought to you by:
The Most High and Holy Priest of the Ignoble Church of Alliteration & Utter Skepticisim
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
Her lubricious bikini has full of criss- crossing fancy strings,
the central idea indeed, seems to be not concealing any skin.
when you pull at any one,
the whole becomes undone,
can you blame if the focus of the action shifts to other things?
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
*Wanton moonlight,
filtered through a fine white net
of cirrocumulous clouds,
so delighted by their caresses
splashing noiselessly
in to the blue pool,
wears an alluring tiara,
a crust created by fine foam,
does a squiggly dance
in the heart shaped pond,
where waves make beams
swing around non stop.
The silver white lilies,
one by one touched by this magic,
comes alive, open their eyes
drink from the fountain of
moonlight and join the dance.
The love pair, in their nocturnal
love games are lubricious to the core
having lost their hearts to both
the ethereal beauty and the arrows of cupid*
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Lying
Betwixt, between,
I have swept my cheek ever lightly so
Against your soft skin,
Emanating measured heat from within
That which your columns suspend
Brands my brow with a silken kiss.
Only the tilt of my head
Need I to inhale your essence,
A dart of my tongue to sample your sweetness;
My fingers dizzy with your warm lubricious invitation.
A gammon cradle, my dome lovingly lulled to rest,
My pressed lips linger to either side their fancy;
Now and ever more, I uncontrollably remain
Yet a willing vassal of your thighs.
-----ChawzzyScript
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 1:12 AM UTC
Christened as black widow,
Baptized in the burning depth of hell;
She emerged from dark shadow
Into the light to entice with her spell.
Her gothic allure's mesmeric,
Bewitching lustful hombres with ease
Into enchantment most cryptic;
To drink from somber lubricious kiss.
Her explicit charm's accursed,
Venomous fang and tongue, irresistible;
******* the blood of lustfully lost,
To rejuvenate a splendor forever invincible.
Her claret lips, stone and rose bouquet;
Her sting of death they'll never betray...
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 5:55 AM UTC
Why are you appealing to me-
Stimulating my ****** desire
tending to arouse evil with inside
Me- You
Us
Identical-
Suggestively I've laid out
flowery perfumed petal
trailing to the bedroom
I've characterized you
by obscenity's & indecency's
you've already let me get away with
**** vivacious recipient-
eluding the lubricious
embraces of
my prurient thought.
Thigh high boots
Whips Creme & chains
Swing chair done up tight to the ceiling,
Lubrications lotions & potions,
Candlelit flickers
as
Our
silhouette's merge into
Identical
mirrored image
You- Me
Mingling
Melting- the little death
becomes
Us!
Identical........
Always me Ayeshah
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
Hectored by the pit-a-patter
of frozen pellets, you might hear
these dented eaves wheeze and sneeze
lubricious comparisons, but
it's a thickly frosted fiction
that their bulbous white noses
look anything like eggshells.
In springtime's crick-cracking they will
however birth a frog with not
so princely disposition:
Hacksaw in hand, he'll eye
your roommate and that footlocker
where she keeps invaluables
of an oddly personal nature.
His plan is to hip-hoppity leave
you red-faced, trying to calm
this panicked friend with un-fairy
tales of a burglar amphibian
who muttered of moral decay,
mis-fabled crowns, and the strangeness
of saved fingernail clippings.
Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
You Can’t Get Me To Lick Your Bones If You’re Never Going To Eat My Phone
I don’t need for the reading of your head
sideways. There’s no book of your gazes in
drugs I fluff myself in front of mirrors to the heavens and become elated, transfixed; I never become ‘indisposed’
you may shift your skin in those clothes I
would never spell nor the words I would never wear across the neck
I will never throw your prose across this
lubricious pottery wheel that governs the
awesome succubus’ coffin of Publisher
Clearing House dactylic feet, I have
a licentious groove and yet I never am
wont for those syllabic toes you push into
the mouth of me. Slippery soot-covered balms of the dancers jocular knot, so I say:
See Spot Run
away from that face of your clock
the beats of your Machiavellian speech
I am understudy to none
In cahoots with only the **** of my soup
kitchen, my idyllic sous chef he takes paradise and irrumates these
suture-battered stars covered in
elementary window wish dust
to poke your fingers with kisses
and undo your shoelaces even
while you you’re weary of becoming
the flat-footed ballerina. There it is
I’ve said it. Beware beware beware beware
when taunting me in your under wares
For I eat lines rare
Petite writhings of flair
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 6:32 AM UTC
Promoting desire
lascivious ***** lewd
hot lubricious
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
Modern Appetite
by Michael R. Burch
It grumbled low, insisting it would feast
on blood and flesh, etcetera, at least
three times a day. With soft lubricious grease
and pale salacious oils, it would ease
its way through life. Each day—an aperitif.
Each night—a frothy bromide, for relief.
It lived on TV fare, wore pinafores,
slurped sugar-coated gumballs, gobbled S’mores.
When gas ensued, it burped and farted. ’Course,
it thought aloud, my wife will leave me. ******
are not so **** particular. Divorce
is certainly a settlement, toujours!
A Tums a day will keep the shrink away,
recalcify old bones, keep gas at bay.
If Simon says, etcetera, Mother, may
I have my hit of calcium today?
Keywords/Tags: modern, appetite, supersize, me, indulgence, gluttony, bromide, seltzer, gas, Tums, calcium, quick, cure, tonic, overeating
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 3:33 AM UTC
Modern Appetite
by Michael R. Burch
It grumbled low, insisting it would feast
on blood and flesh, etcetera, at least
three times a day. With soft lubricious grease
and pale salacious oils, it would ease
its way through life. Each day—an aperitif.
Each night—a frothy bromide, for relief.
It lived on TV fare, wore pinafores,
slurped sugar-coated gumballs, gobbled S’mores.
When gas ensued, it burped and farted. ’Course,
it thought aloud, my wife will leave me. ******
are not so **** particular. Divorce
is certainly a settlement, toujours!
A Tums a day will keep the shrink away,
recalcify old bones, keep gas at bay.
If Simon says, etcetera, Mother, may
I have my hit of calcium today?
Keywords/Tags: modern, appetite, supersize, me, indulgence, gluttony, bromide, seltzer, gas, Tums, calcium, quick, cure, tonic, overeating
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 1:55 AM UTC
tis pity she's no more
A redolence of musk pervades the evening's air.
Take situation in hand. Sweat and perfume. Lubricious.
Teasing digits. Pressures applied. Tense of touch.
An opening of skirts. A parting of lips. A portal.
Brush of thumb she begins to writhe. Early moaning.
Damp, wet, moist, oozing, dripping, slippy. Fruition.
Coming to. A dance of desire. So many ups and downs.
Withdraw slowly. Enter with alacrity. More is not less.
Hollows of legs on shoulders. Depth charges. Grasp of gasps.
Muscles massage. Internal grip. External eruption.
Bear down. Press your case. Silent screams. Everything ends.
Simply collapse into delight. Smooth texture. Fine night.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 7:02 AM UTC
I feel the lubricious eloquence of fingers of love,all over
through wind and waters, moonbeams from far heavens,
that alleviate my pain of separation, when I am left alone
in those caresses an unmistakable message I get,I sigh.
But you never acknowledge my presence not even once
do not even care to imply that you've seen me by chance.
day and night for me makes no difference, blinded by love
I am shameless, want to hear your voice sonorous, everywhere
you play hide and seek with finesse,remain alien to my ears.
The sanctity of my love is there for all to see,a sparkling diamond,
but every sign indicates that you don't melt in my temperature
colts let loose, my words are buoyant,eager to come to you, touch
But confused by your signals they run helter-skelter
not knowing how to seek you, where to search for,
how would I phrase my love to you,that sears me every minute,
for eons, never fulfilled as you refuse to walk by me, with a smile
But you remain my only love,pursue you, sure I would
the scent distinctive and the flower are one, no denying it.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
a midnight
let fly
a lubricious
crow that
Vesuvius threw
off her
mind and
made out
this harmony
and a
throng we
once said
was so
wild where
we met
in night
of ash
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 9:10 AM UTC
BD
we make death
we eat breadths
lay in beds
bray and fret
we make death
sticks which twitch up the legs
passing through like a wish
it’s an inside your one-two tease
i stare at your shell
i want to ring your bell
just plant your hell on me
give yourself what you need
please baby please
give yourself what you need
we make death
we acquiesce
apodyopsis
feint of logic
till quite obnoxious
eat flesh in keys quixotic
lubricious sycophant rhapsodic
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
Things you need are that hard
To find.
There, over there, outside your window, not the breeze. It is a disease, who waits outside that window. Inside growing groaning please please come and play innocently come please play. Forget about everyone and anyone you love.
Lubricious ànd concupiscient
There are things that are not that easy
To find.
Say; Love, Friendship, Absence of pain, A feeling of hope-unfueled by any dope. A monster which waits outside your window while you groan and moan for these things, inside blow your window.
Not that easy to find.
Lubricious ànd concupiscient
There are things that are easy
To find.
A blade of grass, a crumbling building, war, hate, and mallace. Yet look harder and may also, easily,
Find beauty.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
The full moon gazed blindly upon us,
Its light peering through every crack and crevice,
I grabbed your hand and sprinted near the cliffs,
Both of us panting once we reached the palm trees.
We could feel the sand blistering on our feet,
Wallowing and clutching at each other to feel the heat,
We fell down together on the crystalline sand,
And the shooting stars obeyed the command.
Your eyes, framed by long lashes,
Were irresistibly charming with bright glows,
The constricting coldness in its pupil drew me in,
Yet still betrayed your creamy feelings dripping.
You then started to turn slowly,
Your cheeks first, very chubby,
Followed by your lubricious lips,
It graced against mine with a brush of our eyelashes.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
with every kiss and lick
she melted sweetly
dissolving upon lubricious tongue...
like cotton candy...
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC