"racy" poems
I'm creating a Lego alter-ego
Called Scarlet.
Her skin is flawless
Her face a fixed fierce determined smile
Her drawn on ******* will never sag
And she never has a hair out of place.
She has a pet monkey by her side
Poached from my brothers 1989 pirate set
After she duelled with Pegleg Pete
And made him walk the plastic plank.
She has lego lovers in high places
Batman has given her the code to his 6860 set batcave
And the white Knight from castle set 70404
Has lent her his trusty steed
And he drank from her cup.
She is fearless and has an interchangeable
Wipe clean wardrobe
She can be whatever she wants
She is **** yet robust
When placed on a high shelf
She may gather dust
But she is always ready
For fun and adventure
And she will never age or rust.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
Too attached to
The memory of you
And your sunken dimples
That held up the happy curve of your lips
(And held up my world too),
The want in your voice
Coarse with loneliness and anguish,
Though evaporating when ******
Between us two
(My sweet words the answer to your sole prayer),
Your distant stare shielding
A wall of deep thoughts
Scared and shamed and lovingly true
**** as the ocean blue)—
I love you.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
It's a technological age
& Baby,
you've got my number,
I love you close-up.
live to see your sweet flow,
'cause I know Honey,
you've been
thinking about me.
Did you get new drapes &
an amber pillowcase Sweetheart?
They're pretty nice!
I just wanted to tell you,
they match your
gorgeous hair
perfectly &
when you
hold yourself up
like that,
well...let's just say
it makes me want
to shout out
a few kinky-things
I'd like to do with you.
If you only knew,
oh, if you only knew,
wink wink.
And when
your sparkling-eyes
meet mine,
it gets me going,
but it's really
your spread
feminine-thighs
that keeps me honest.
No lies, I'm yours to keep,
you can have me forever,
I promise.
O Doll Face,
your lacy lingerie,
so stunning,
so very ****
& amazingly sensual,
especially
the crotchless ones,
what scrumptious
sexy-fun,
yum, yum!
O Darling,
my Sweet Sugar Pie,
you're the greatest,
& oh how I love you,
you & your selfies,
so discreetly,
they move me.
no lie!
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Simple, sweet,
and so delectable.
The taste of your kiss
lingers on my lips.
Enticing and you have
me yearning for more.
**** visions play
in my head like
roll on a film.
Seduction surges
my body and
makes me stiff.
I climb on top
of you and
your body
intertwines with mine;
DNA stranded perfectly
together.
My arm wraps around
your back. As I pull
your body close to mine,
your gasp whispers in
my ear.
You want more.
So soft are your legs,
which my fingers
explore.
My hands are curious
creatures, and you are
too inviting for my
own good.
Another kiss. This one
is fire. Passion blazing
while flames and heat
transfer from your
mouth to mine.
Then we are one.
Two halves finally
Equalling a whole.
A light yelp
escapes your mouth
and transforms
into a soft moan.
We are soaring
above cloud nine;
higher than we could
even imagine.
You are me.
I am you.
This is we.
We are passion.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
To start --
being an adolescent with autumn eyes,
seeking a prophecy for long-standing bravery
to further the spinning spokes for minutes, five more,
I burned the drapes to reveal a humanity only I could see.
The expectations were elaborately existing, unsatisfying. Sons
and fathers, years refrained from matters
that reverse reverse reverse curses and maturity
without purpose.
Those idle accepted neglect, and the existence of an
unsalted bridge was quickly detained. Alone, the foolish described
to search for the future in geometric formation and coffee ring
stains fading the desk.
But the sense proposed in my decided equality drank dignity
straight from the bottle. The road that lead me between two cliffs,
Propriety and Statistics, with the rocks already pelting down,
could not diminish my enthusiasm for necessary absurdities.
There's no flesh in declared mediocrities.
I became a luminary for pleasures of eminence, hope with resolve,
opportunities in destiny. Blind gambles obliged the fear of exacting
sensibility. Passionate follies created no-regret-consequences,
satisfied stability. Only the **** are granted victories in eternal gaiety.
Mortality is irrelevant if you let mystery be your urgency.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
Igor was torn between casting
the body of a girl
or young woman,
that was merely sexually attractive -
or whether to employ a procession
of young nubiles as secretaries;
now that Natalia had thrown him over for Ivan,
he needed a girl or young woman
who was sexually mature;
possibly even suitable for marriage;
sexually mature; sexually attractive,
desirable, **** luscious; marriageable;
informally, beddable:
Ivan constantly surrounded himself
w/ a posse of nubile young women,
to forget, that's what Eli needed to do;
mid 17th century: from the Latin nubilis
‘marriageable,’ from nubere,
to cover or veil
oneself for a bridegroom;
from the nubes the ‘puffy cloud-like nips’
of a child bride;
[risqué]
photos of coeds of the
fifties & those of
| _sex-trafficked nubiles_
from last week; |
glamour isn't glamorous;
as GMO skanks get injected
w/ female growth hormones
just in case they
decide to
to be mothers someday
slightly indecent or liable
to shock, especially by being sexually
suggestive; "risqué humor" ribald,
rude, ***** Rabelaisian, ***** ****
earthy, indecent, suggestive,
improper, naughty, locker-room;
****** ***** ****** crude, adult,
coarse, obscene, lewd, ******
blue, raunchy; off-color
"risqué stories": mid 19th century: French,
_past participle of risquer ‘to risk’_
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:04 AM UTC
Crashing off caffeine.
My body's in a wet dream.
Spazzing,
orgasmically
twitching as I'm switching
up the rhyme scheme
with a little bad timing.
I'm spacey like Kevin.
I get **** like Mooney.
Looney-toony in the boonies
gettin lucky like Slevin.
Super nerdy like Melvins.
Getting heated in Kelvins.
In a spectrum
I'm extreme
like 1000 baby screams
or something obscene
like genocidal regimes
dumping bodies downstream
with severed heads in their ******
I'm darker than my complexion.
Come in! Your more than welcome.
Just let me wipe the slate clean.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
I'm not trying to be needlessly edgy or ****
But can we lay off Kevin all up in yo Spacey?
I know it seems wrong
But I feel I can understand
Or at least relate
Because when I feel too much love in my heart
For somebody younger
Who is a guy
I start doing crazy ****
Like projecting my life onto his
Maybe he's scared
Maybe he's alone
Maybe I could save someone from that
I have to remind myself that was just me
And that there is no such thing as salvation
When your mistakes are supercharged
Because of the scandalous homosexual element
Yet there's no one to turn to
Because nobody understands
So your actions become louder to drown the silence
The stakes of the mischief grow
There's tens of thousands of dollars in property damage
That can be attributed to my sexuality
You have to find a way to push past that
The only way I found
Is to be open about who you are
Because until then the fear will consume you
You fear they will laugh, mock, judge and hate you
Until you wish they were silent again
And they will do all these things
And you will wish all those things
But you'll be able to face it with strength and honesty
Because your fear is more powerful than their callousness
But more importantly it's better than the alternative
When people discover your nature
Through a mistake you've made
And unleash the wrath of God
They will never give a ****
About how they contribute to these moments
They're only there to throw gas on the fire
They say it's a mistake to ****** a minor
They say it's a mistake to be a whiner
And there's no one who'll ever take your call
Expecting them to understand
Well, that's the biggest mistake of them all
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
Alright page…okay, fine, I admit it;
I've been avoiding you.
Your face, beautifully smooth and innocent, reminds
me I have yet to find the time to paint it…so:
I apologise,
to the eyes I should have coated in the eyeshadow of
romance (scorned, loved, lost, lived)
to the cheeks I should have blushed with eroticism
to the ears I should have punctured with anger and
passion and vanity
to the skin I should have smeared foundation over: covering
bad rhymes like concealer over spots (still there, just less obvious)
to the lips which I should have animated with laughter and
sarcasm.
I apologise,
to the body of the poem which never:
Felt the stanza of a corset
Felt the **** lace of an internal rhyme
Felt the bra of a title
Or the shimmering dress of a metaphor
Or the thrill of removing every last bit.
I've missed a million date nights, and I
want to try to fix it.
Please? Despite our marriage of minds, we have drifted, I'd like permission to take our hands on a date once more
Letting the wine of ideas pour between
Sighs of Sibilance
complete contentment
Tasting the catharsis of your lips
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Inside, Your cancer's beating heart
My ******* shakes, dirt dust gone
I swipe the sand away. For every ounce of ****
Laughing out meaty red raw steaks and size zero thighs.
- For everythingsobad. You rattle my dream box with your sweet blue face and your gauges for neither being an idiot or being human. Too cute of you booboo. Captivity claws at you, you big bafoon, intolerant, shuffling your predicates back and forth during your 12am nonsensical ******** So long as it doesn't interfere with your curfew.
Like soggy altered-state popcorn. Your butter catches more flies than knives, the inauthentic gestures spattering over the rhythms and rolls of your fingertips is torture to watch. Kitchen countertop influenza. A tired dictionary of sad words, poor misfortunes, tired eyelids, silty and sandy crusty inside corners of the eyes
.rearing privilege
countertop crawlers. inaudible coos used by muses who can't keep their musings from tangling the long distance dial tone soaring through the ears like an Italian operatic melodrama. A horse, three brides, and a funeral. One woman, a sick child, blindness, blinding caused by toxins of the body stuck inside your gelatinous fishlike eyelids. Where's there an eye bib and a lance when you need one? A nifty electric toothbrush shank with extra reach and plaque protection. You're the kitchen sink they threw in, a budget meeting with a data analysis staph infection. A government where nobody wins. All the kids grow up with thin skin and an aorta with no ventricles in it. It's like the cynical prison system that we had to survive in our 8th grade basement dungeon. Thundering, curmudgeons drugging sluggishly, **** teen thugs. Preteen pornstars sluicing cash through their meaty canals, ******* the ******** and ******* the back bare in a messy afternoon of **** ******* Crusty infectious rumors made worse by brothers and moms, eating handfuls of Norco just to keep the family strong.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
rag tag *** hag grocery bag in drag
maxed credit and bragging about having a stag party
farty party girls in shart coated pantyhose blow wasted kisses
to fisters in trousers bumping mump victims blisters
hitting wristers like the Williams sisters
coyote trickster with a brand new mix tape waits
with his **** taped to his own leg like Ricky Lake
on her fist date
another Cosby **** escape hot-plated shared space
I’m no racist cause my skin is white and pasty
I’m tasty and **** like Britney sans the braces insatiable
and my testicles are reckless needing spectacles
done wrecked the hull Captain Pickard
and a test-tube girl –
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
She's the color of black while it's melting
Wears gray shade which appears tempered
Type of black that gets bolder in the midst
Advances with passes indirect and explicit
Tinted shades to expose her out of time
Fuzzy haze casts burdens within the eyes
Couple gung-ho admirers skirt her spine
Actions prompt over rehearsed **** lines
Anxiety concedes to the warm paper filter
Drips silver throughout the listless picture
Both stricken by the skin when settled in
Onset of chattering as his face wears thin
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
Now her hands are empty
not a ring or a bracelet
bare as God made them
and I wonder
really, I thought that was so cute
Queenie blushes
just a brush of sunburn
it's a real **** affair
This struck me as funny
that makes no difference
with a big summer colony out on the Point
women mapping their legs
I began to feel sorry for them
they couldn't help it
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
I bet she's tall and pretty
I bet she doesn't even need makeup to be stunning
I bet she stays up late with you and sends you late night texts
I bet you two get drunk and high together
I bet she has no qualms about sending you **** pictures of herself
I bet she is in the "popular" crowd
I bet she doesn't complicate everything
I bet she has never cut herself or tried to **** herself or starved herself
and I have done all three
I bet she is everything you ever wanted
I bet she is someone you would miss like crazy if she left you
I bet you barely remember my name
I am the one who sits at home and reads with a cup of tea and a hoodie on
She is the one who goes out and parties, gets drunk and high and strips
I wish you would miss me
Just a little bit
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
Fierce and growling and pouncing a pace
Approaches your face before you can move.
That is a warrior in your face, growling
Keep pace feel her groove
I sent you more attitude with color
See my shadows' like no other
what is this wizardry?
Something is coming right at you with attitude
Stripes of color down my face
Blend with the shadows of **** lace
My eyes stare right at you
My eye teeth grow like a wolf
Something is coming right at you with attitude!
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
The superstar opted for a rather daring look and took a photograph in a bathroom mirror for fans.
Madonna seems to be taking style tips from Kim Kardashian these days by falling in love with a very **** pair of boots.
The 56-year-old star continued to prove she won't be getting a blue rinse anytime soon or covering up with saggy jumpers as she flaunted her figure in a selfie.
Posing in front of a mirror in a black leotard and black knee-high lace-up boots, she wrote on Instagram: "Nothing Glamorous about this bathroom but these Gucci Boots are Eeeeevrythang! #rebelhearttour."
She can be seen in the pic without any make-up on looking slightly tired while rocking a wavy blonde hairstyle and wearing black fishnet stockings.
Meanwhile, Madonna recently claimed she will continue making music until she dies because she is so "inspired" to keep working, just like Picasso, who died in 1973.
She said: "I like to compare myself to other kinds of artists like Picasso. He kept painting and painting until the day he died. Why? Because I guess he felt inspired to do so. Life inspired him, so he had to keep expressing himself, and that's how I feel."
The Living For Love hitmaker - who released her latest album Rebel Heart earlier this year - continued to say she doesn't think her creative streak will ever fade because she always wants to inspire others.
She explained: "I don't think there's a time, a date, an expiration date for being creative. I think you go until you don't have any more to say."
The music icon will kick off her Rebel Heart Tour on September 9 in Montreal, Canada and said she has spent "weeks and weeks" choosing a set list because she has so many well known hits to choose from.
She added: "The theme I really truly explore in this show more than anything is love and romance. I want people to walk out like they're feeling inspired and like they've seen something they've never seen before (and) felt something they've never felt before.
"I realize I have 32 years of other songs, so I have to pick and choose. I sit there for weeks and weeks and weeks trying to figure out which of my old catalog I want to do.
"It's a puzzle that we have to put together 'cause thematically the songs -- the old and the new -- they have to go together; sonically they have to go together."
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/princess-formal-dresses
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
Being Inside out
Peeled off
Every layer
Of inhibitions
No fear
No worries
Sensation
Every nerve
Every sinew
Feels the spark
Grips you
Soul becomes free
Heart, ****
joie de vivre
Elevated Ecstasy
Totally spent
Just insatiable
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
I've always wondered
What it'd be like
To make love in a tent,
Fragrance of soil and sweat
And urgent desire in the air,
With the dark sky lit up with
galaxies and galaxies
of stars and the letters of my name,
Punctuated by your breaths as you'd
Chant it like a prayer,
Risqué and **** and earthy,
Rawer than the last time,
Rawer than that time,
Whispers so titillating they'd
Make the silent night blush,
Make the dewy, green, lush
Grass curl its leaves in shame,
And send the river stream flowing
A little too hurriedly,
And the clouds a-tizzy,
And the Earth a-dizzy
When I'd open my eyes, exuding
Fire through and through,
I know the sky would mirror me,
And undress into its brightest crimson hue.
I know if we'd make love that way,
The sun would rise earlier that day.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
My outwards view, though as open
And strange as my heart, is hazy
Decisions, made in the moment are a
Testament to my mind and self; always crazy
Though I can most certainly be studious
I'm far more inclined to be lazy
You bought me roses? Thanks but,
You should know I'd prefer a daisy
I act so nice and neat, cute ain't it?
But my taste in jokes? A touch of ****
And as for my state of being, I'm rarely focused
I'm more often drifting, dreaming, spacey
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
I know they say you're like Harley.
That's because you're **** fun, crazy!
You're scandalous, sassy, in charge.
But
They don't think about Joker,
When they say that.
They don't say you're like the Joker's girlfriend
Sidekick
Thing.
They say you're like Harley.
You're badass and spunky and full of energy.
Daring and inspiring and loving too.
You've got such a big heart.
But you don't need to be Harley, to be like Harley.
Your role model is a great one.
Always, always be you.
Keep your idol in your heart.
But don't steal her boyfriend.
That's her man
To be mean to her
Who she pines after
Who she cries over.
Don't steal her life,
Because her life seriously *****
You can be like Harley,
And still be you.
Being like Harley is pretty cool
Being you is the coolest.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Ripples in the water
Roses in the bush
Rainbow views
Raindrops and *****
Remedies for the soul
Reminiscing,
Relaxing times
Reflecting, wishing
**** Red dress
Revitalised mind, richly defined
Take me there...
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 12:49 PM UTC
*You never wished to get what you already deserved
but the heart brought you a life where you got emerged
with the temptation of **** mind
that took you away.... away from your life
The love beyond the region crowned you... the queen of my realm
You took a flight & flew off the kingdom of wicked world
& reached out the desperate, & so restless glory of my helm
The destiny of your cantankerous heart led you to the fifty shades of my fractious love
& brought you a new life - A life that labeled you - A white dove
A Dove - an omen; a mark; a zodiac sign of freedom
Oh, the night with you makes me an Italic pigeon
who flies across the world over the nights;
steals your every shimmery breath under the full-moon-night,
& gives you everything with pleasure when the rain love beating again your our galvanize.*
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
Stuttering, sputtering, spewing words while noses were growing longer
than the grey shark that lay dead on the subway car floor, no stronger
words were uttered than a Brooklynese "phoque" and then silence as
the stench of death and black humour.
The red bull can and a **** life, too many cigarettes, he didn't listen to
his wife, and she was no where to be found anywhere around the sub-
way walls and brick, mortar, concrete and rails with one like a taser.
SHOCKING!
Said the press, the greater subway transit authority has better things
to do, and I agree so a short poem about this will be all this brings
to the surface of a stolen idea, NYC has the dead shark, a but and
a can, while in Russia, wild dogs travel free, in those subway cars.
cuz if it ain't safe for sharks it ain't safe for no one while in
Russia every transit traveler may pet and be near a dog, and give and receive
love.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
Been
been cuffed
been stuffed
been shot
been forgot
been grabbed
been stabbed
been forty
been *****
been accused
been confused
been there
been square
been drunk
been sunk
been ******
been disowned
been eccentric
been athletic
been scared
been prepared
been lazy
been ****
been cruel
been cool
been everything
there is to be
except the man
that is me
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
... Give me one reason to stay here,
& I’ll turn right back around,
said I don’t want to leave you lonely,
you’ve got to make me change my mind now,
give me one reason to stay here, & I’ll turn right back around,
& no money won’t help not at all not in any amount,
I’m past possessions & almost past The Point of No Return,
so at this point I see no point in turning back now,
like Tracy Chapman, Bruce Wayne Batman, or Tracy Morgan, like the Joker, Heath Ledger, Edgar Poe, or Captain Morgan,
or a Spacey Captain,
or a **** Batman ready for action,
just not actually Kevin Spacey,
we all know what happened,
we can imagine, so there’s no need for a reenactment,
I know I’m handsome,
thanks for the compliment, I’m flattered,
but not interested, ‘cause I just don’t find guys that attractive,
so quit the harassment & passive aggressive temper tantrums,
& quit asking for a dance,
you already have your answer,
I only give straight facts fam,
don’t know those fake strangers,
don’t need the gold you try to coax me with, soul’s platinum,
not a flash in the pan scam, I scan more than you can imagine,
hindsight 20/20 vision, I read the whole thing backwards,
from the final ending, to lights camera action,
gone till November,
leaving on a jet plane to Denver,
more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan,
more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver,
more Honcho than Jon Doe, more Pronto than Macho,
more Brando than Tonto, full throttle no turning back now,
won’t back down,
feel most alive in times when I almost die,
the real thing, we vroom vroom we do don’t try try,
no need to try to live this life when you really live that life,
why sail the high seas when you can reach Heaven & fly?
Living The Life of Lives, living The Dream of Dreams,
one dream at a time, lucidly asking, “What do you mean?”,
I mean, for real, for really real, how do you really feel? ...
continued in poem #74 in
THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3 available here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XJRBSKD
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:57 PM UTC