"minx" poems
(thanx all for the great suggestions)
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women who wink
drive men to drink
together, glasses clink
tattoos follow in ink
and that ain’t the only thing
~
the tiller tied & forgot,
the slip knot jinxed
the sailboat nearly sinks
~
he cries aloud “you minx!”
I’m all done in,
you’ve got me sminked,^
you winking whilst me sailing on the oceans brink
~
she smirked and laughed that slinky mink,
“clearly you are confused - I’m a lynx,
count to cinq, don’t overthink,
join me overboard into the ****
I’ll finish you off in the the kitchen sink
where drowning possibilities are next to nothink
promise, we’ll be quite in sync”
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
when a lost muse is no excuse,
when the mundane and the profane
are away on summer holiday,
and you are currently on the divine’s
'u **** - no write list'
nonetheless the itch in the private
spaces is driving you crazy,
write a poem, write a poem,
in the way a grandmother
(or a mother to a grown child)
whiny nags,
*its a nice day, go outside and play
with a strange man*,
whatcha ya gonna do, the walls are all painted,
and the good bad boys are out of town, all with the
*other bad good girls,
who got there first,*
but we will write of
nipple-rings and
other crazy songs you sing
it is not important you the reader understand every verse,
like Patton said, "it only matters that I know,"
which line is a joke,
which around your neck is
your customized yoke,
which is why:
plaintive wail to no avail,
the regret that never can be sated,
the frustration cratering inside the chest,
which is just,
(and unjust)
just enough
to make a semi-satisfactory smile
upon the lips appear
whose lips?
who cares?
as long as you don't have to hear me sing my poetry
but hear me smiling at
the power of whimsy writing
and the return of
my no longer muzzy^
Ms. Minx A. Muse-me
<£>
2:13pm
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
i’m a kitty cat, a minx,
a playful mistress
your enigma, the sphinx
and my fur’s wet
****** into water,
trying to escape the rain
or the plunge,
happiness is a stain
the more ya pet me
the more i bite
the more you pick me up
the more my tail twitches in spite
if today you drop me
i’ll love you
but if today you love me
i’ll hate you
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
My Dearest Black Dahlia
Stumbling in these neon streets
Waiting to be torn in two
Be my carrion pin up model
Adorned in imprinted diamonds
With porcelain skin icy stale
Murderous glamor
Gleaming and serene
Posing like a minx
Half here and half there
A hauntingly mesmerizing woman
Should I be fearful
Or should I be in love
I suppose this is maddening
But I am smiling all the while
Bright and all Irish
Welcome to Hollywood
My Dearest Black Dahlia
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
Handicap suburban hippies
Cruising like hyenas
Trampoline ******
****** tissues in ashtrays
Natural born riders
Liquid courage makes little peanuts
Alien Nation
Infomercials on mute
Strange thugs and dark markets
Needles and pixie sticks
Under the manmade weather
New types of bullet holes
Slaying the jabberwocky in
The new Transylvania
The Yes monster
Cranium stadium
Swords and roses
Barren space
Insolent minx
Holidays gone bad
Continental drift
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
I like cute smiles
They "make me die"
Quoting the girls with too much time
Can't forget
Succulent thighs
They draw my attention
From their deviant eyes
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
I existed for you, mister;
I extolled your complex nature.
I was intoxicated, briefly; you were good.
You excelled at smart seduction;
you outfoxed me with your hoaxes.
I didn't watch my heart the way I should;
but by the flux of your affections,
it meant approximately nothing.
Any buxom minx could have you if she tried.
It was a lonely anticlimax,
but I kicked my sad fixation
and nixed your plans to decimate my pride.
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 5:29 PM UTC
I'm glad I'll drive your next girl insane
With my phantom kisses that
May or may not have left stains on your brain.
Because you see, as perfect as she will be,
I **** red lipstick and trilbies and kohl
And it's rare in a woman to be able to watch Top Gear
Without thinking of safety hazards, and seatbelts.
I hope she knows that however loose she wears her hair,
She'll never be as wild as me.
And as cool as she sounds,
I have a bite like a kiwi,
And I always leave an after taste that isn't strawberry and sugar.
So yeah, she's suave and calm and collected, and that is **** fine,
I'll give her that.
But I'm sarcastic.
And I call you out when you become too boring,
Like for instance,
Not making me mad at you at least once a day
For making me think about things that I would like to just blitz over
As I do with many other things
Like the people who loved us.
Because all we needed was each other.
And although she pouts,
I smirk.
She has big eyes, but mine are of lynxes.
I'm your own personal minx.
And she knows I'll always be wrapped around your neck.
And however close she gets to you
I'm always right beside you, inside you
Every breath she takes,
Every mistake in love you make.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 7:33 PM UTC
I watch, I smile, I wonder
At this cheeky little minx.
She leaps and runs and skips
Stands on her hands and laughs.
She reads and writes and draws,
She hums and sings and shouts.
She is lithe and lively
Full of raw energy.
In my mind, she sparkles
Like a glistening star,
Each day, each week, twinkling
With humour and surprise.
Even with juvenile words
Her fresh spirit shines forth.
Her love, her guile, her resolve,
Her mischief eyes, her pout,
Her charm, her warmth, her joy,
They enrich my daily life.
Soon sleepy, she snuggles close.
Her matchstick arms give mighty hugs.
Her fine flowing fair hair
Settles against my chin.
Eyes closed, her dark lashes
Brush her rose petal cheeks.
I watch, I smile, I give thanks.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 7:24 AM UTC
Dear, Pa –
it’s your once-son
Danny – or better known
as Sandy, or Annie or;
Ann-Marie and to some
folks on 19th Street,
I’m known as a sinner, a ******
My life is a movie, like
a catwalk model; and
I play a very special person, who’s got
no-one to lean on, no mommy to hold, and;
Wait, I know her. She’s familiar to me like,
I’ve known her since the beginning of time, but
right now, in physical form, she stands
in front of me in the;
mirror, Pa. Yes, I am her reflection, no
I mean she’s my reflection and I realize
that; all along, this whole time, I told myself
a big-fat lie; as a child, hatred and anger
were the tears I cried. So –
this one’s for you, my king,
my liege; this one’s the promise
that we’ll keep; this one’s the bond
between our sheets; but this one’s the
one that’ll point at you; before I lift
the middle one, to say, ***** You!”
But hey, Pa – here I am. A
woman, not a man. A bonafide,
sophisticated lady in minx
with, real diamond earrings and
fierce wings; those nails, my nose
and my lips – make me feel like I’ve
power at my fingertips.
Tonight is my show – it’s my time
to shine. And I’m going to **** it
like I know I can – so thank you Pa,
and thank you, ma’am. For giving
me the strength to be who I am.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
Unassuming, at best– no
tempting minx, I confess,
but this I would bet (speaking
humbly): give me paper and
ink, half an hour to think– I might
just convince you to love me.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:05 PM UTC
Your long, dark eyelashes
Shadowing your eyes, warm.
Just need to glare at me
And at once I‘d yield to your charm.
Your long, black hair
Falls so elegant down your spine,
Or entwine braided around your shoulders.
Oh, I wish you‘d be mine…
Your nose dubs bold, minx,
With recalcitrance so adorable,
Enframed by freckles light
And skin so fair, what beauty pale.
Your laughter rings like small bells of bronze, light,
And your cheeks redden in your joy, even blush
And when you sit like this, dangling legs and hands in your lap,
You just can‘t hide that beauty of yours, tamed, unleashed.
Your red lips, so filled with loveliness
Smiling shy, but so adorable, in grace
Oh, what would I give for just one kiss
Oh, what would I give to see at least once your face...
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 11:49 AM UTC
We've written volumes
In blood and scars and ink
We've told a million stories
Thought a million things
We've lived some hundred lives
Laughed our faces pink
And we did all just because,
Mischievous little minx
Imagine if you'd never spoken
Never showed me who you are
Imagine if you'd been quiet
And never helped me with wolf lore
(I'm grateful, by the way)
Imagine if you hadn't stayed
Then imagine how you did
And then reach out to feel me
Because I'm not leaving
And neither are you
We've got humor and care
(And your pain-sucking hoodoo)
So when we get old
We'll smile and think
And reread the volumes we wrote
In blood and scars and ink
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Earnest eyes, rewarding lips
I love the way you treat my kiss
Bold attitude, untold devotion
I drink from the bottle of your condescending potion
↣
I’m standing on two feet alas
Only to bend back over
To feel the mastery in your grasp
And the protection in your hover
↣
Your bed is my favorite reality
Moving up and down, face to face
This is the recovery period
For the inconvenience of time and space
↣
I’ll be your girl til the end of the world
So long as it spins on its axis
I’ll tuck you into bed and put kisses on your head
So long as faith in each other is practiced
↣
I’ll be your little minx until you leave us to dissipate
in a battle lost between the cracks
Of what’s ahead and waiting for us,
and what we cannot take back
↣
I’ll stay as feeble and ready to mold
to the circumstances of your trust
To function formally under your arms
in the disease that I call lust
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
Under the sun kissed moonlight
Which dapples the streets below,
A man leaves his life time employment
To go forth to his new temporary job.
Along the streets he lurked,
Like a thief in the night
Walking not by faith,
But instead by his sight.
Across the city 9 hours before dawn
He evades any face time
To avoid any wasted time
For he cannot be late,
Not on this date.
Under coincidental circumstances
He found this new job,
Around a few drinks,
A clever little minx.
Illumination by the queen of the night
Stolen by the king of the day,
Breathing life into this forbidden foray
A pillaging of the heart.
At the doors of his temporary career
Intentions in his mind much too clear.
Reaching inside the institution
Risking himself with no safety of income.
Into the office he put himself,
His presence made known
More than qualified
For his personal assistance.
The moon stares within the confines
Of this deep, seedy establishment.
Shining light on the dark proceedings
Which are about to proceed into the night.
Ready to work for his promotion,
Changing into his work attire,
Takes his seat in the workplace,
Planning to come second in this work race.
Forgetting his full time employers face
Moonlighting,
Under the moon light.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
Kiss her in the snow
Marry her in the summer
**** little minx makes him Stutter
Oblivious little girl looks to the sky
Grabbed her hand and ran away
Climbed the mountain
Touched the sky
Time changes, Goodbye
Falling down an abyss
The colors danced off the trees
The Autumn when Abigail died
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
My Boy
So you’ve got yourself a new girl
She hot?
She pretty?
She nice?
She ****
I don’t know
Probably nothing like me
You see
With me
You were on fire
Always such heat
A firestorm in the rain
Making the water evaporate
Till there’s nothing but steam
Good ol’ steam
You see
It was fun while it lasted
And it sure lasted awhile
All the teasing
All the tempting
Thank god I wasn’t under age
Little minx
Little temptress
Woops
My bad
You think you’ll have to touch
For her
The way you did for me?
Nah, I doubt it
I doubt you’ll stop your truck
During your rounds
Pull it over the highway and come
Come all over your steering wheel
I doubt you’ll get all hot and bothered
While the kids are sleeping
And come
Come right beside them in the bed you’re sharing
Having to bite down on a pillow
To keep from screaming out my name
I doubt you’ll stop your work
Stop cleaning
Just to jack off
And ***** all that you've cleaned
Start that job over again
You see
You just couldn’t help yourself
I don’t blame you
I mean
Look at her
Look at me
Is she wrinkled?
Or is she young and firm
Ah
She’s an older lass isn’t she?
Ready to settle down
Give you what I never did
Reassurance
That’s ok
I gave you something she never can
Never will
Just can’t
I made you lose control my boy
Now run along
Hold onto your control with her
So stable she is
But when you try to bang her brains out
Make sure you get the names right
It won’t be me you’re getting pleasure from
Never me
Regain the control you lost
Pick up your scattered clothes
And have fun being so prim and proper
No more fun and games for you
Oh well
My games just started
My boy
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC
She's a stripper,
Who strips to stir the crotches of men.
She's a wanton minx,
But that's what she's paid for.
Her curves and back are
Strewn with a dozen of scary tattoos,
That no one can decipher.
Her honey *** is sacred,
Not even millions will win you a dive.
But come one midnight,
Closed from work she is,
A stalker tailed her
Determined to be the first,
Between her sacred thighs.
He waits till an alley draws near,
Then pounces he does.
Her clothes he rips off,
A couple of blows to stun her.
On the ground he forces her,
And into her he thrusts,
Panting in victory and pleasure.
She doesn't fight, she lets him.
And soon, he feels peculiarly hot,
Screaming in agony, he disintegrates,
Only to be ****** into her body.
His face, that of pure anguish
Joining the numerous tattoos
Of faces on her back.
Up she gets, gathers her clothes
And home she went, to strip come
Another night.
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
Remember...
When comic books were the real big thing
and kids everywhere waited eagerly
every week excited to start reading
the latest Beano or Dandy
Remember…
Enjoying Dennis the Menace and Gnasher,
Minnie the Minx and the Bash Street Kids,
Roger the Dodger, Scrapper and Basher,
Beryl the Peril and Billy Whizz.
Remember…
Thinking Bully Beef and Chips were so great;
the awful things that Bully would do!
Not forgetting Desperate Dan and Keyhole Kate
who were always fantastic too.
Remember…
When we used to read the Sparky or the Topper
or the Buster or even the Beezer
without of course forgetting the Victor
or Roy of the Rovers either.
Remember…
When they had the Bunty for girls too,
the Mandy and Judy as well,
which many boys would read it is true;
though all promised never to tell!
Remember…
Waiting patiently each year for Santa to bring
the Annual edition of your favourite one,
spending hours on Christmas Day just reading;
and reading was the best thing under the sun!
Remember…
When everyone joined their local libraries
soon after schooldays had begun
When you were sure to find a book to please
and reading was so much fun.
Remember…
When books transported us to another world,
each new book a revelation,
instilling in us a love of the written word;
really fuelling our imagination!
Remember…
How much enjoyment you got from reading
and what little effort it really took,
how the pressures of life soon began receding
when you immersed yourself in a book.
Remember…
To try and make time to read a good book,
to take time out every now and then,
and you never know, with a bit of luck;
You might fall in love with reading again.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
Put out a crisp white sheet
On the harder mahogany desk
Keep the pen ready and
Make the light ambient
Fold your arms
And close your eyes
Sit and wait
For the ideas to strike
Hold still! Don't move
Or you'll chase them away
And be left in the dark
With darkness barely at bay
As the trickling movements
Get reduced to peaceful sleep
You'll sit on that unforgiving wooden chair
Waiting for words to come and greet
So rub those furrowed eyebrows
And coax that pensive mind
Ignore the calls your bed sounds
Keep it waiting through the night
It is then when you're ready
To almost pull your hair and scream
That the elusive minx will tiptoe up to you
And tap on your shoulders gently
Be grateful to yourself my friend
For not giving up
Because when you stain the paper it'll be red
You'll rhyme with your blood
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
And under the stars, the first time we touched, I gave myself to you.
Unknown to what was present, we acted on the binding impulse of energy written from hopeful thoughts and clouded states of mind.
You were the drug and I, your victim; every word evoked seeping like a poison through my skin. You, the smoke to my lungs, addictive and screaming the very meaning of pleasure.
You were the minx, the temptress, my master and obsession. The feelings of guilt overridden by lust and passion, I was unable to hold a single breath.
But my love, my nymphette, how brightly you shone. What are morals when the heart leaps forth?
Reflecting the incandescent light of the moon, I watch the violet veins arise from your skin. You are a woman on this night.
Darling, I can feel your body grow cold. You draw closer with every movement, our pores blooming to retain the warmth.
Our love is imminent, flourishing with every subtle touch and every rhythmic thrust.
We lie gazing at the dark skies once more, you awake but barely conscious, I compelled to hold you.
But my love, I took your soul that night.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 11:25 AM UTC
When we're together
It's like escaping to a magical land
Locked in a stuffy room
Our desires reigned recklessly free
Keeping away the harsh realities of our lives
Passionately intertwined as one
In each others own madness
Your fingers are minx like
Dancing across the fretboard with thoughtless grace
Strumming your thoughts through our kisses
With a sharp twinkle in those quiet brown eyes
Every song feels like reliving an old memory
One you plucked fresh from my soul
I love the way cigarettes rest on your lips
A classic addition some would say
But in it I see the self made man you are
The way your fingers elegantly roll tobacco
Baffles my clumsy mind
Could a mortal be so beautifully designed?
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
Sometimes I look back on this life I lived. And it fills me with tears. Nostalgia is a tricky little minx. Sneaks up when you are least expecting it. Filling you with fondness that quickly turns to pain.
I'm longing for the nights we stayed up late like kids in pillow forts. The days we danced in the sun on the street. The moments we wished to last forever.
They didn't.
We didn't.
Suddenly I feel heavy and empty at the same time. Like something inside me is missing and it's absence is a weight on my chest. I dare not say I miss you or miss us or miss the memories because that's the whole key of missing something. You can't miss something that isn't gone. And to be honest, all we had left was to leave each other. That is the reason a part of you will still live on in my soul and I yours. A part of you and me that no longer exists. A part we burried long ago. And that's for the best. It was over. We had outgrown the world that we had created. We became too headstrong, too brave, too focused to live on in each other's lives.
Two hurricanes cannot rage beside each other without merging together as one. Our hurricane lives, independent and stubborn, battled too close to that edge and that is our greatest downfall.
So, storm on, you hurricane of a girl. May your path bring both beauty and destruction all in one. May your bravery startle even yourself. May you power grow and your soul deepen. And may your eyes open each day to see how incredibly and how magnificently you live this life.
-t.s.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC