"nibbles" poems
It's three am.
You want the arms of a man you've never met,
It only takes a bit,
Nibbles on the neck,
Only takes a little lip,
To get a little wet.
Beach day soon,
Summer comes as soon as you do.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
flex and perspire my darling
would you mind a small suffering for craven kisses
to have your dark fig **** and drenching *****
stroked with a tickling finger lingering
and strong hands around your sweetly curved throat
that shunt the breath
to yield willingly for sharp-toothed nibbles with surprise tongue whipping?
will you present your soft belly and cupping *******
for dark cruelties that excite beyond tabulation
will you present yourself with smiles
and goddess leg show
sobbing for feral pink spires gleaming
while quivering thighs
turn hot red from the slap of the leather strap splitting stings?
will tears of love
mix in wild berry utterance
and flashing spitfire’s tongue?
are you made for this?
your every whimper an invitation
like an open pink gate
do you need the saint of dark desires to rescue you
from banal dim-witted all american in and out?
do you need to drown in oceanic wave tsunamis
of hot butter **** glitter, blood flooding gasms
and tender aftercare?
my wish
that you shimmer like silver
possessed
by the saint of sadism
popes of eros
who fill you with the milk of the moon
all stars that melt you into the depths of paradise
and that this dark ecstasy
is the only suffering you will ever know.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:27 AM UTC
i breathe
one breath at a time
each inhalation linked to the exhalation before it
yet every breath stands alone
there's something tenuous about it
this soft machine is on thin ice
devoured by time in innocent increments
like a moth nibbles away wool
my heart
little gorilla
wearing itself out
rubber glove with a hole in it
weird luck
my eyes are bright
solar blue ball lanterns
if you saw me
you would say
good bones
river of envy
yet all hinges
on a muscular rhythmic pulsating machine
like a determined jaw chewing
jumpy mouth
yet on the verge of betrayal
a glitch
karmic indecision
in destinies wheel house
a red fist locus banging
ones immense sense of self
a vainglorious elaboration
built over a small pulsating muscle
innocuous
dumb blood flesh knot drumming
scarlet tribe
throne of my very soul
great sovereign
old man in a crib
splitting open of its own accord
a sudden rip from life
to a dead sea eternity
the final frontier
starless night
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
You love how he licks every inch of you
and nibbles on your flesh.
You want him to spoil every hole,
and make you sloppy wet.
You beg him to take you every night,
and you let him have his way.
You need him to fill you up tight
and you think about it all day.
He knows just what you like,
so he ties you to his bed to
get you ready for his abuse.
You moan and scream as he pounds you
over and over,
until you can't move.
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 12:49 AM UTC
promised bliss of
unraveled cloth
discovered skin
ripples of touch
nibbles of kiss
carving of form
what they evoke
bubbling to the surface
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC
these tempting and tumultuous times,
when the insect bite of attraction nibbles
your cheek, and first blood thickens with
intrigued,
the blood heated by, with a bewildering new sun's glow,
then bubbling boiling
over
with phantasmagorical fantasies,
and one endeavors to coax, to tease,
to preen, to adduce how best to ******
this persona, imagined or imaginary to be,
whispers a silent "no thankee''
and first bloom curls into a deathly brown doom,
you,
chastened by amorous hastening so quick evolving,
and the hither in come here, withers to a ghostly silencing,
one wonders, reminisces, and sadly recalls then forgets
the entreaties so eagerly received, how one wants to be
deceived,
for the once lay-buried-arousals now well recalled,
and quick to appear, faster to dismiss disappear,
and disaster cones and goes with light-speed velocity,
having fling,
now flung,
having crushed,
now crushing,
you caught laughing at your self,
still evolving long past the time
for youthful deceptions and silly indiscretions,
but not unhappily, for it was an acknowledgement
that good love poetry yet within resides, alas, alas,
it reciprocity seeds need replanting, and that notion
is quite pleasing...
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
501
This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond—
Invisible, as Music—
But positive, as Sound—
It beckons, and it baffles—
Philosophy—don’t know—
And through a Riddle, at the last—
Sagacity, must go—
To guess it, puzzles scholars—
To gain it, Men have borne
Contempt of Generations
And Crucifixion, shown—
Faith slips—and laughs, and rallies—
Blushes, if any see—
Plucks at a twig of Evidence—
And asks a Vane, the way—
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit—
Strong Hallelujahs roll—
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul—
4.2k
And amid the rhythmic song of the crickets, the trickle of a departing storm, and the quiet lull of Chopin’s Nocturne No. 1 in B flat, the screech of an unruly vehicle is heard, yet it is off in the distance and only slightly interrupts the dreamer’s dream. She sets her thoughts free so that they may swirl around her mixing with the wetness of the day. She is peaceful as is the chilled air that nibbles at her skin causing her hair to raise, but she likes it, for she grows weary of the thick, exhausting heat that has so frequently plagued her soul. Dreaming is, and forever will be her one true escape.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
your eyes belong
to my undeniable stare that has infinite meanings and thousand thoughts
your lips belong
to my unbounded lust that flows out as a lovable kiss
your chest belongs
to my irresistible touch that tattoos my name and marks my reign
your ears belong
to my words and nibbles from our night bed fights under full moon light
your hands belong to me to hold
I'll want them even when I grow old
your shoulders belong to me to lean
and I, forever want to be your queen
your heart that's beating
that's mine
only mine
no... I would never share
for this whole world, I swear.
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 7:19 AM UTC
The happiest sound
Leaves under my feet
The magic of autumn
Crunching underneath
Dancing with my puppy
Nibbles on my toes
Happiness is seeping
Through tiny bite holes
A river in springtime:
Water cold as ice
Caressing my ankles
Such happy delight!
Eighteen years here;
So surprising still
How soothing it is:
A stroll down the hill
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
How a kiss feels
It is indescribable
And yet I can explain
It in detail
Soft Lips press
Against each other
As hearts pound
Sometimes it is
Soft filled with
Love and warmth
And others are
Forceful filled with
Lust and passion
Fingers tangle in
The other's hair
Arms are wrapped
Around necks and
Waists fingers lace
Together as warm
Tongues press against
Soft Lips begging
For entrance
Mouths open
Tongues battle for
Dominance as each
Persons heart hammers
In their chest
Fingers entangle themselves
In long and short hair
body
Heat grows strong
And stronger
Until eventually shirts
Are discarded bras
Are lifted and
Moans fill the
Room
Heat fills your
Body
As his touch
Sends a shiver
Down your spine
Your face flushes
A deep shade
Of berry red
As he nibbles
And ***** on
The sensitive flesh
Of your neck
Causing your world
To go blank
This is how
A kiss feels
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 1:13 PM UTC
I made a list of all our kisses, starting with just ‘kiss’
Which in the heat of passion was italicized like this:
kiss, then emphasized in variations Kiss! and KISS and KISS
Which even though ethereal somehow added to our bliss.
And later in IM we found that we could really KISS!
I mean in theory still, of course, for physically we missed
The real touch of real lips and autres choses on that list.
And there were funny graphics, I can’t reproduce them here,
But you know the ones we used a lot, they all meant kisses there
The hearton built with < and 3, which always made you smile
And the asterisks and emoticons we used once in a while
And let’s not forget those x’s which a net of crosses wove
*** and xxxx, our ****** book of love.
Soon added to our kisses came words like longingly,
And tenderly, and lingeringly and gentle morningly
Sometimes we gave it lots of tongue, but loving nibbles too
Whenever I’d le pout or tears your lashes would bedew.
These are the ones I can recall, probably there are more
I’m sure you’re itching to remind me from your memory’s vast store
And you can tell me all about them in some poetry well versed
But my love, before you write it, you’ll just have to kiss me first.
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
One day, you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love
with the nape of the neck and the lobe of the ear
you’ll want to nibble just above the edge of the jaw
and run your fingers through the tousled spirally hair,
but the slight quiver of curved lips will halt you in thoughts
as the darting pupils furtively flutter behind closed eyelids
searching for a break of dawn in the shadows of a room
where dust hangs heavily then settles in unsuspecting lungs
making the rise and fall of the chest raspy and laborious,
making nostrils flare up to make room for something less heavy
something more familiar, more light and less lugubrious,
something like a touch on the curve of the neck just below
the edge of the jaw and a whisper of something gentle
that nibbles on the ear as erring fingers run through spirally hair,
sending waves of shivers that make curved lips quiver and
darting pupils flutter enough to one day break open closed eyelids
where you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
little tommy tortoise he his my garden pet
he roams around for hours when its dry or wet
he likes to chew on lettuce and nibbles it real slow
then a walk around the garden this little chap will go
he has a built in shelter when curled up in his shell
which is back or front you really can not tell
he sleeps all through the winter till the start of spring
then comes out again such a clever little thing
he is only young with lots of years to go
what i would do without him i really just dont know
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
a polar vortex
swirls eastward
on Siberian Tiger paws
bounding over
Appalachian Highlands
gobbling geography
gelling Great Lakes
spawning Erie blizzards
sculpting Wabash ice floes
clogging commerce all
along the Ohio River Valley
this voracious
juggernaut’s wide maw
bears icicle teeth
laughing as it swallows
Pittsburgh, Little Philly,
and a Big Apple, before
gorging itself on
generous portions
ladled into
simmering crocks
of steaming
Boston Baked Beans
growling
blue arctic
air blasts roar
bursts pipes
savages the heat
of blasting furnaces,
bubbling boilers, hot
belly stoves frantically
drinking oil, flaming gas
burning wood and
burping soot
the blistering
jet stream claws
screech a slashing
stratospheric hum
as Frigidaire blasts
swallows breath
brittles limbs
chafes cheeks
gnaws earlobes
crystallizes tears
nibbles nostrils
cubes snot
numbs toes
bites digits
diving sub zero
gradient subdues
batteries to
deaden states
delays buses
derails trains
cuts power
constricts veins
preys on
vagabonds
and animals
get the homeless
off the street!
bring the animals in
check on your
elderly neighbors
don’t get caught outside
and shut the **** door!
do you own stock
in the Public Service?
beware the polar vortex
and next months heating bill
Sonny Boy Williamson
& Otis Spann
Nine Below Zero
Oakland
1/6/14
jbm
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
I like to bite,
not overly hard,
just enough to make one wince,
perhaps, a sharp intake of breath,
showing that my bite is hard enough.
I so desire feeling soft flesh,
tensing between my teeth,
especially when rounded and firm.
Neck first, working downwards,
nipping into the shoulder,
chewing that succulent muscle,
with tight, tentative nibbles.
I am even bitten in return,
my pressure gauged by intent,
taken from the one biting me.
If teeth come hard and sharp,
trust me, then so do mine,
if they are loving and gentle,
once again, so are mine.
I work across the *******
delighting in the ***** *******
chewing drawing responses,
tongue sliding over her stomach,
lower, lower, down to the hips.
Biting very hard into thighs,
making her cry, back arching,
bringing writhing gasps to die for,
reaching her vulnerable centre,
soothing with deep, heavy licks,
tantalisingly teasing, so sweet.
Suddenly, flipping her over,
rough as you like, choice slaps,
smarting on her plump bottom,
before biting, biting, biting,
taking in every curvaceous part,
devouring, chomping, so yummy!
I part her legs, diving between,
my tongue lapping in a frenzy,
deep, deep, tasting the juice,
before rising, pinning shoulders,
entering, gliding, slowly, surely,
giving long, languorous strokes.
Hips grinding, hard and deep,
circling round and round,
momentum building, building,
firm hands gripping her hips,
flesh slapping against flesh,
as we match our rhythm,
lunging, pounding, thrusting,
exploding, on and on,
more and more, until,
we are spent, trembling,
slowing, easing.
A final twisting whip,
circling the very edge,
bringing smiles,
a playful giggle,
it tickles, so nice,
I lean forward, so good,
nuzzling, caressing,
ah, all because,
I like to bite.
©Paul M Chafer
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
A midnight run for food,
Has not come to fruition,
Everywhere is closed,
Last stop: delicatessen.
My heart turns to a shade of roux
That mirrors the glowing closed sign,
"No food for you!"
It mocks at me,
As I peer inside.
I think I'll break a window,
Just for halva nibbles,
But is five to ten in jail,
Worth the Jewish kibbles?
Oh deli, you've forsaken me,
By not relieving my hunger,
So I grab a couple rocks,
And start some wicked thunder.
There's so much food to choose from,
And it's all free for me,
But wait, oh no, I didn't see,
The camera light has turned to green!
I've been spotted by the deli owners
I should've worn a hoodie,
Now I'm going straight to jail,
Just to nom on goodies.
There's no point in running,
The red and blue are here;
I may as well just sit and wait,
Maybe grab a beer.
They sent a squad that spewed laughter,
When they saw their guy,
Just a dame, small in stature,
Making a ham on rye.
Luckily I'd made enough,
To feed the seven men,
So they radioed to all their friends,
And laughter began again.
Now that we're all satiated.
And I've been let go free,
I wonder, had it been opened,
Would I have such a story to tell,
"My Big Night at the Deli"
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
MY LOVE IS ETERNAL….
I wish you come back to me someday for a while,
tell me your love for me is real,
that ray of hope of keeps me still alive,
you parted professing it was infatuation,
never fathomed my devotion,
you were my inspiration to live,
you were aspiration of my life,
left me in lurch for greener pastures,
leaving me entangled in your love shackles,
questioned the allegiance of my love,
shattering my profound feelings to live,
Years passed away down the lane,
in your thoughts and dreams alone,
in deep agony my heart bleeds ,
in memories of your cuddles and nibbles,
All these years, eyes tired in your quest,
my heart and soul always were at unrest,
Spent days and years persuading hard
my heart to evade from your thought,
it fortified my evasion, firm in its conviction
my heart is no more in my possession,
Spell bound in your compassion,
It is hard, yet have to make a confession
my love for you is beyond my imagination,
no stone left un turned in your pursuit,
no day,no moment passed with out your thought,
you were there always deep in my heart,
captivated me with your kindness
enthralled me with your sweet voice
to love you more was the only choice,
spring has come all the way again
flowers of my love has blossomed again,
though you are far away from me
your love has made me feel you are there with in me,
All these years of my penance for your love,
my goddess has blessed me with her love,
there in my heart and my soul, being the only reason to be alive,
your words soothes my heart and your smile makes it (heart) skip a beat,
you are there in my heart, air I breath, smile on lips,in tears when I weep,
the only ambition I have in my life, to part from this world in your lap,
My love for you is eternal, I would still love you from my coffers…
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
Regret.
Nibbles away at the tiny corners of the conscious mind.
Preoccupying ones thoughts with remorse and somewhat desire.
Remorse over what is done
and what is to be done.
A desire
to do it again.
Regret.
Not a feeling rather a trait.
Its characteristic
embodied within the human
Its here, and its here to stay.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:35 AM UTC
She's smooth as cream and silk
on her skin and in her mind
her touch and movements epic
ever sensual, and perfectly refined
I can still feel her gaze
when I close my weary eyes
exciting every single nerve
she doesn't even, have to try
Sliding in her deepest pool
playing with her moans and sighs
breaking every warning and rule
nibbling, at her breast and thighs
Gentle nibbles, not too much
and fingers moving higher
Tongue and lips in playful touch
stirring our desire
Skin aglow in heated flush
hair wrapped in your fingers
sighs and breaths in gasping rush
a teasing kiss that lingers
Awakening a mutual ache
whispered needs in muted tones
Each in turn to give and take
as words give way to sated moans
As her sweet salty skin
Lay bared to breath
Her bumps of fleshly excitement
Erupting on the scene
Touches, quivering
Vulnerability behold
Let lose your key
Open your soul
A ripple on my skin
and wetness down below
our eyes searching deep within
as we become one in our soul
A touch of burning desire
so warm, melting down my walls
each kiss, closer to the edge
exhilarating, intoxicating, as I fall
A flame of rapt emotion
explosions of such power
a volcano already in motion
oh god, I scream out louder!
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:37 AM UTC
You are a money hungry hungry ***** you are
You just sit there counting your doh
You are definitely a money hungry
Money hungry ***** you are
You don’t care for the poor on no
You go into the country club
As the poor go to the pub
And after you say goodbye to your Mates saying I had a great day
The pub people are having a brawl
The poor aren’t free
But you are mate in that great
Country club
And that makes you are money hungry *****
Every day to go
You are a money hungry money hungry ***** you are
Enjoying spending money like wearing
Underwear
Money hungry money hungry ***** you are not caring for the little guys
Oh no
The poor head off to the football match thinking any seat will do
But as they get there the rich avoid the queues and head straight up to the members stand for a great view
What a money hungry money hungry ***** they are enjoying the match and the view
While the poor are fighting for the best spot and sometimes it can be a brawl when you go to a concert to listen to the lovely tunes you get your spot thinking it is good
But the money hungry ****** have found a better spot
In the middle in the box
With champagne and nibbles oh yeah but we have to sit there watching them be total total fools oh yeah
You are being pushed over by the crowd while they are sipping champagne it is enough to drive a poor man nuts
Come on mate move out of the way
The rich are driving me nuts
Money hungry money hungry money hungry ****** always seem better than you, you know **** them
I don’t care the rich don’t care about me I prefer to stay here enjoying being poor saying the rich have nothing on me
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 5:35 AM UTC
The girl’s corneas expand over the small black abyss of pupil
Tides of blue and hazel rising over onyx isles
An unhinged eyelash balances precariously on its neighbor
It evaporates with her quick blink
Directly beneath her right eye
Below the mottled eggplant shadows
The corpse of a capillary drains among the freckles
Subterranean rivers of vein
Pulse under thin skin
Her nose is spherical
Etched by soft papery scars
Pores round and gazing
Culminating in a uniform valley
Lips are soft and pink and unkissed
A source for a small steady trickle of pride
Her mother’s lips
But behind the outer façade
The seamed surface is rough with nervous nibbles
Ribboned with scars of worries and troubles
She lacks fourteen teeth
Absent since the womb
Those she has are either sickly infants or filled with grainy mystery metallics
Some entirely fabricated with spatulas of amalgam
Yellowed and cracking
Rough and worn
Spongy inner marrow screaming with pain
She hides the stony incisors from view
The hair
Curling and waving
Kissing with reptilian tongues at her cheeks
Neck
Forehead
Framing her face in brambles and cowlicks
Indecisive of its true form
Fuzzy with moisture
Unwilling to obey
The strands of a gorgon
A monstrous tangle of personality
Instantly recognizable
Her hands attempt to soothe the undulating tendrils
But they anger
As stubborn as her
Refuse treatment
She gives up
Rinses her hands
And turns away from the mirror
Sighing
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
There is a certain art,
not the cliché form,
of such dalliance divine,
The forge of opening a woman,
Fully, to see the beautiful creation of Eden
It is not the opening of legs,
nor the parting of thighs,
such is just a middle,
a jumping point,
the truistic beginning
The delicious devouring starts
first at the mouth
where the ****** first builds
in salivating lip smacking nibbles
burning through the veins
opening the gate
breaching the uncertainty
of submitting to that wanting, always,
for someone to know
where to touch
where to lick
where to urge flesh alive
then it inches, in Picasso brushes
along the flesh,
(breast, waist, hips,)
where fingers and tongue find a certain rhythm
causing the body to sing, without thought
the song of origins
As it opens the strained passage, naturally,
wet with strange desire
curious, needing redemption
for all the lonely hours of denial
of wanting someone
to taste, smell, touch the ache away
And you will lick first the wounds;
the hurtful lashing of old lovers,
then you will be surprised
how easily she dissolves
fallen against your mouth
as you lick the silky wings
**** them between your lips
tongue the opening
getting inside enough to taste
the rouged flower, the Van Gogh surprise
bloomimg, simply, magnificently, against the lap of your tongue
only to feel, so wondrously,
her surrender, quivering,
warm against your mouth
And she will lay, breathless, trembling
moaning your name,
so grateful, so thankful
you took time with tongue and patience
to make her feel alive
To make her feel like a woman
To make her feel as if she were just birthed into this world
To be made exclusive by your worship of all she is....
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 6:29 AM UTC
*throughout the day,
most oft at night,
start to say,
stop short,
painful for crying out loud thoughts,
shoutouts to any passing god
things that need to the air
be exposed,
but not to ears that
well, what could they say...
so stutter-stop
the bottling inside,
periodic fizz escaping,
and even poetry
cannot help
for it does over and over again,
end up as crumpled papers,
litter of the head,
halves, this's and that's,
even this one dies here and now*
~~~~~~~
irony delicious,
that litter sounds so literary,
so added débris,
lest my mangy constructions
manage to confuse you
the litter in question,
is your host's hors d'oeuvre
nibbles of works,
half-started, half-finished,
like rooms to let,
that come only half-furnished,
not a single morsel worthy
serving up,
all half-satisfactory
poems, of course...
the wrong write ***** clogged,
resting in peace,
Works In Progress (WIP)
unlike the poet,
who's just plain whipped
un-crumpled awaiting
an episodic finale,
if ever they should be televised,
they are needy for cumberbitches,
a birth or death certificate
sore lacking
pick up put down
new titles pop,
essays in need of love,
naught fruited, dead pits,
hanging on the tree till
gravity takes them prisoner
on and on for weeks
the side stitch does not
disappear, but does grow
aching familiar
perhaps the topic offends
you the most,
cloying, suffocating
self-pity
of your own hands
around your neck wrapped...
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
This fire smoldering between us burns so very intense that all my inhibitions just seem to melt away.
I can't stop myself from becoming drunk off the intoxication of your captivating physic, MMMM I love feeling this way.
I see your eyes light up with expectancy when I tease you, sending waves of temptation thru your imagination.
With deep anticipation, I savor the idea of our bodies intertwined and my head becomes dizzy from my hearts acceleration.
Curving my long sleek body to fit into your mold, while teasing nibbles and seductive kisses are given in just the right place.
Breathless whispers fueled by pure desire, exploring each others body with enticing caresses as we long to stay locked in this lustful embrace.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC