"ravished" poems
He watched pleasure enter her eyes
Sensations of pleasure leaving her mesmerized
Sweet screams, wet dreams, message disguised
Moans escape as bodies magnetized
his hands glued to her thighs
as she sighs
Fingers soaked in wet; juicy juices drip
tongue eclipsing glistening lip; slow licks
Her body, his vessel; selfish
Serving each other relentless
Breathes escaping each other
Tangled together, bodies ravished
Every morsel of one another sandwiched
Finger, Licking, Good.
~Delicious~
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
The beast loving the beast he didnt have
sympathy for beauty and the way that beauty should be treated.
Beauty she didnt have the hard core nature of
reality that means the way a beast should be. Beauty and her Beast
The tender love and affection that beauty needed.
Was often ignore rejected and neglected.
from the beast.
The same way, that beauty wasnt able to
saddle the hard core meaness
and the rocky foundation.
That the beast was used to. To accept him being what he is.
Unloving uncaring ungiving.
because he is better known as this beast.
Beauty and her Beast.
Beauty would often be torn ravished and taken for granted.
While the beast would often feast on the tender meat.
Of Beauty! Ravishing and seeking, beastly taking.
Barely ever having anything descent to be giving.
No kindness no loving ways, no maturity.
Because the beast didnt even love himself.
This beast he be!
Sometimes as beauty would be recovering
she'd reach for him in his rocky
hard core places and it would leave her torn.
In tragedy torn ripped places because Beauty.
Needs peace beauty needs sweet relief.
That couldnt be provided.
By a ravishing Beast.
Beasty and her beast.
The way he seeks,, the way he treats the way he harms.
The way he rings alarms.
Beauty would sigh love me! The Beast would say Hate me.
Hate me I am Beast!
My Features are beast My ways are Beast.
My Heart is beasty. For I remember am Beast.
Beauty would cry Love me, desire me, want me,
Cherish Me, feed me nourish me.
comfort me, cradle me.
For I am beauty and I seek love and maturity.
I am Beauty. Do Not Devour me.
But nourish me and treat me kindly
And Know that I am beauty.
I seek sweet sleep sweet deliverance
For I am Beautiful I need not a Beast!
Don't be beasty let me transform you into my Prince charming
my romantic knight and shinning armor.
can I kiss the beast and he turn into my romantic beast.
By SelinaSharday.. All Rights reseved S.A.M 2018
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:13 AM UTC
So an age ended, and its last deliverer died
In bed, grown idle and unhappy; they were safe:
The sudden shadow of a giant's enormous calf
Would fall no more at dusk across their lawns outside.
They slept in peace: in marshes here and there no doubt
A sterile dragon lingered to a natural death,
But in a year the spoor had vanished from the heath:
A kobold's knocking in the mountain petered out.
Only the scupltors and the poets were half sad,
And the pert retinue from the magician's house
Grumbled and went elsewhere. The vanished powers were glad
To be invisible and free; without remorse
Struck down the sons who strayed in their course,
And ravished the daughters, and drove the fathers mad.
3.9k
We love to chase the wind through streaks of blinding bliss,
Tagging the glorious ideals of love, peace, friendship, even
The meaning of life, to weeping willows and pensive pebbles.
We admire the monochrome sky in all its barren blue or pregnant purple;
Hues of burple and plue are dismissed as being tedious, or just confused.
Fear not, photoshop will rectify this pigmented aberration.
We giggle at clouds that resemble kitchen utensils or mystical creatures;
“Hey look a teddy bear in a spacesuit with a flowerpot on his head wielding the Sword of Gryffindor!”
We declare sagely, with the acumen of a legendary bird watcher.
We resurrect grass angels by launching into horizontal jumping-jacks, and,
Just as a disclaimer, no flower was harmed in the process. Not that it matters,
As long as we did not soil our Lacoste and Burberry.
We spin a mixtape out of the torrential downpour, our tracks pitting
The pitter of regularity against the patter of inconstancy, synchronizing
The symphony of splashes to an undercurrent of nostalgia.
We kiss against the bark of an elm, and if a tree is not available in the vicinity,
We throw ourselves down a nearby hill, tumbling into a ball of moist romance,
Panting, as we bask in the studio lighting of the approving sun.
Every still is captured by a Lomo,
Every scene arrested in sepia motion,
Every moment ravished by the chichi Bohemian in us.
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 4:03 PM UTC
The air tainted
With the scent of lavender
Walls painted with mud
On her back
She looked down from above
His unshaved skin tickles her thighs
She sighs
Word unspoken
Give a clear directive
Untamed
she became
while he ravished her
Satisfaction she over-came
all over the furniture
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 12:04 AM UTC
I dream’d this mortal part of mine
Was Metamorphoz’d to a Vine;
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthrall’d my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs & thighs
I with my Tendrils did surprize;
Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste
By my soft Nerv’lits were embrac’d:
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seem’d to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curles about her neck did craule,
And armes and hands they did enthrall:
So that she could not freely stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespy’d,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancie I awook;
And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a Stock then like a Vine.
3.5k
Her first ever play party,
They barely had a chance to talk.
This was the first time they were able to interact with one another.
Her offered her a massage.
they went up to the massage room, and He got undressed and on the table. It started off as an innocent massage.One thing led to another and they ended up all over each other, it until it was over.
After it was over, they rolled over and started over because they weren't done. He did what no one else had ever done…
He took her over.
Without asking, he bent her over...
the massage table,
lifted my dress,
and ****** her.
hard and deep
until her legs gave weak from getting weak
He took what he wanted, Her
Cause she need hit to,
He just read the queues,
After listening to what she was saying,
he heard what I wasn’t saying.
and gave in.
He grabbed her,
He bit her,
then he ravished her.
Each satisfying ****** filled her with pleasure
Him deep inside her wetness, pleased her
as she pleaded, he wetness throbbed for more.
She wanted Him, and she got him
now she addicted, and won't settle unless she gets more.
Mar 24, 2024
Mar 24, 2024 at 10:43 PM UTC
Oceans couldn't keep me away from you, distances aren't reachable, I'll swim to you, love, street-fight or die trying, the stars and the infinite galaxies won't keep me from your love, it's the same old story, guy meets girl, but I am a fighter and a lover, I'll fight Bulls with no sword, I won't cheat, I'll use my hands, I'll run and ride wild horses to be by your side, I'll swim with sharks with no cage, fearless heart made with fiery stone, our love is deep, and I'll stop at nothing to die by your side, the same old story ... This story is endless, I'll conquer kingdoms, **** them with love to make you mine, till I crawl bare-boned ****** ravished to hold your hand and make you mine...
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
1495
The Thrill came slowly like a Boom for
Centuries delayed
Its fitness growing like the Flood
In sumptuous solitude—
The desolations only missed
While Rapture changed its Dress
And stood amazed before the Change
In ravished Holiness—
2.8k
I sit here on this lonely windswept ridge
Overlooking a wild place
Of peathag and bog and wild heather
Of outcrops of gritstone rock
Standing like rotting teeth
In ravished gums
Bleak and dreary in the rain
But still a place to be loved
Hardy sheep graze the barren slopes
Watched over by equal hardy men and dogs
Out in all weathers
I'm lucky
Because I know the tracks and trails
Crossing this wild land
I know the streams of fresh water
And the sanctuary for my nights rest
In my small lightweight tent
This is wild Yorkshire
As yet an unspoilt place
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
506
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast—
It was a boundless place to me
And silenced, as the awful sea
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air—
Or brushed a Royal Gown—
My feet, too, that had wandered so—
My Gypsy face—transfigured now—
To tenderer Renown—
Into this Port, if I might come,
Rebecca, to Jerusalem,
Would not so ravished turn—
Nor Persian, baffled at her shrine
Lift such a Crucifixial sign
To her imperial Sun.
2.6k
442
God made a little Gentian—
It tried—to be a Rose—
And failed—and all the Summer laughed—
But just before the Snows
There rose a Purple Creature—
That ravished all the Hill—
And Summer hid her Forehead—
And Mockery—was still—
The Frosts were her condition—
The Tyrian would not come
Until the North—invoke it—
Creator—Shall I—bloom?
2.5k
(From a Persian Carpet)
Ash and strewments, the first moth-wings, pale
Ardour of brief evenings, on the fecund wind;
Or all a wing, less than wind,
Breath of low herbs upfloats, petal or wing,
Haunting the musk precincts of burial.
For the season of newer riches moves triumphing,
Of the evanescence of deaths. These potpourris
Earth-tinctured, jet insect-bead, cinder of bloom—
How weigh while a great summer knows increase,
Ceaselessly risen, what there entombs?—
Of candour fallen from the slight stems of Mays,
Corrupt of the rim a blue shades, pensively:
So a fatigue of wishes will young eyes.
And brightened, unpurged eyes of revery, now
Not to glance to fabulous groves again!
For now deep presence is, and binds its close,
And closes down the wreathed alleys escape of sighs.
And now rich time is weaving, hidden tree,
The fable of orient threads from bough to bough.
Old rinded wood, whose lissomeness within
Has reached from nothing to its covering
These many corymbs’ flourish!—And the green
Shells which wait amber, breathing, wrought
Towards the still trance of summer’s centering,
Motives by ravished humble fingers set,
Each in a noon of its own infinite.
And here is leant the branch and its repose
of the deep leaf to the pilgrim plume. Repose,
Inflections brilliant and mute of the voyager, light!
And here the nests, and freshet throats resume
Notes over and over found, names
For the silvery ascensions of joy. Nothing is here
But moss and its bells now of the root’s night;
But the beetle’s bower, and arc from grass to grass
For the flight in gauze. Now its fresh lair,
Grass-deep, nestles the cool eft to stir
Vague newborn limbs, and the bud’s dark winding has
Access of day. Now on the subtle noon
Time’s image, at pause with being, labours free
Of all its charge, for each in coverts laid,
Of clement kind; and everlastingly,
In some elision of bright moments is known,
Changed wide as Eden, the branch whose silence sways
Dazzle of the murmurous leaves to continual tone;
Its separations, sighing to own again
Being of the ignorant wish; and sways to sight,
Waked from it nighted, the marvelous foundlings of light;
Risen and weaving from the ceaseless root
A divine ease whispers toward fruitfulness,
While all a summer’s conscience tempts the fruit.
2.6k
Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt
To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
And her soul early into heaven ravished,
Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set.
here the admiring her my mind did whet
To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head;
But though I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed,
a holy thristy dropsy melts me yet.
But why should I beg more love, whenas thou
Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all thine:
And dost not only fear lest I allow
My love to saints and angels, things divine,
but in they tender jealousy dost doubt
lest the world, flesh, yea, devil put thee out.
2.5k
1594
Immured in Heaven!
What a Cell!
Let every ******* be,
Thou sweetest of the Universe,
Like that which ravished thee!
2.3k
Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood!
O ease my heart of verse and let me rest;
Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood
Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast.
A theme! a theme! great nature! give a theme;
Let me begin my dream.
I come -- I see thee, as thou standest there,
Beckon me not into the wintry air.
Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears,
And hopes, and joys, and panting miseries, --
To-night, if I may guess, thy beauty wears
A smile of such delight,
As brilliant and as bright,
As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes,
Lost in soft amaze,
I gaze, I gaze!
Who now, with greedy looks, eats up my feast?
What stare outfaces now my silver moon!
Ah! keep that hand unravished at the least;
Let, let, the amorous burn --
But pr'ythee, do not turn
The current of your heart from me so soon.
O! save, in charity,
The quickest pulse for me.
Save it for me, sweet love! though music breathe
Voluptuous visions into the warm air;
Though swimming through the dance's dangerous wreath,
Be like an April day,
Smiling and cold and gay,
A temperate lilly, temperate as fair;
Then, Heaven! there will be
A warmer June for me.
Why, this, you'll say, my ***** is not true:
Put your soft hand upon your snowy side,
Where the heart beats: confess -- 'tis nothing new --
Must not a woman be
A feather on the sea,
Sway'd to and fro by every wind and tide?
Of as uncertain speed
As blow-ball from the mead?
I know it -- and to know it is despair
To one who loves you as I love, sweet *****
Whose heart goes fluttering for you every where,
Nor, when away you roam,
Dare keep its wretched home,
Love, love alone, his pains severe and many:
Then, loveliest! keep me free,
From torturing jealousy.
Ah! if you prize my subdued soul above
The poor, the fading, brief, pride of an hour;
Let none profane my Holy See of love,
Or with a rude hand break
The sacramental cake:
Let none else touch the just new-budded flower;
If not -- may my eyes close,
Love! on their lost repose.
2.4k
Last night I had a dream.
I was standing on a planet named ALONE. It was just a lonely planet widout any sun and moons. It consisted of kingdoms. And I was on a tower of one of such kingdoms. The day was perfectly imperfect as always. And the night came succeeding to boil all the intricate frivolous thoughts running through my mind. Wind was cooler than usual. And its blowrate was gradually increasing. Suddenly I saw a white dot far ahead in the sky. It was getting brighter and was protruding lines of white. Wind ravished the people all around the planet. There faar ahead something had happened and the white dot was now like ripped off into small white dots and was kept intact in a spherical manner by some force. It was a scene depicting many planets coming into existence.
Then something clicked my mind. Maybe there a world had arised like ours but very very far from this planet. But there, is not just a planet, but many of them with luminous bodies succumbed into it.
One day I will travel there.
I got up from sleep. Now I knew that goals are always far. You just have to try and be determined..
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 5:13 AM UTC
All the words of love are written,
To my darling, my lover, and best friend,
I am ravished by these thoughts of you,
From every sunrise 'til the day's end.
The day we met, our journey began,
But it began with the end of another.
We brought with us Philautia love,
Loving ourselves before each other.
Ludus makes us dance in the rain,
Like children who love to play.
We joke and tease and tickle,
And we'll be forever young this way.
Eros pulls my eyes in your direction,
Consuming your body with my mind.
Its passion joins our flesh,
And sends chills along my spine.
Philia opens our hearts to one another,
As our friendship blooms like flowers.
We share interests and even secrets,
And talks that go on for hours.
Pragma should take years to mature,
But instead of 'falling' in love we 'stood.'
We committed ourselves in a mere moment,
To forever love each other, we would.
Even Storge has a presence here,
In the eyes the children see you through.
This familial love makes this a home,
And is complete because of you.
And now I find myself in Agape,
A culmination of all of the above.
It is selflessness and sacrifice,
And it is the epitome of love.
All these words of love are written,
To my darling, my lover, and best friend.
I promise you this Agape love,
From now until this journey ends.
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
She longed for the sea like one longed for a former time. The salty scents intoxicated her and ravished her senses. She longed to feel the current against her body as she swam forever, into the unknown. She longed for the salty fragrance of the waves to be her constant perfume, to be free of constricting corsets and constraining doctrines that bore over her like a bothersome chaperone.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
My heart is as vast as the earth I now stand on.
I love with the might of seas that rage,
In the same manner so my heart breaks.
With rough tumbling crashes of waves pelting my fragile body.
Defenseless to the matters of the heart.
Pain felt in sickness or battle, none can compare.
To the pain that just is, not to be felt in one place, but destroys the whole being.
To be broken hearted is to feel abandoned by love.
The feeling of death though still alive.
Is there a place where we may go to escape the feeling within?
Is there a river where we may go to drown the pain that lingers and threatens to destroy our souls?
The crippling feeling of nothingness taking over with every breath.
Suffocated by the very air that we breathe.
I want to leave this land.
This land that is scorched by tears and agony,
Ravished by betrayal and loss.
Destroyed by the selfishness of man.
My heart longs to go back home.
To the place where danger was unforeseen.
Where love smiled so beautiful.
So beautiful that my strength left me as it did Solomon in the days of old.
As I fell weakened to my knees,
The wraith of murdered love crept in and gutted out my very heart,
Stolen in the night.
My only hope at this hour is that my heart seeks its abode,
And returns to the place where it once slept in the comfort of love.
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 6:48 AM UTC
And the age ended, and the last deliverer died.
In bed, grown idle and unhappy; they were safe:
The sudden shadow of the giant's enormous calf
Would fall no more at dusk across the lawn outside.
They slept in peace: in marshes here and there no doubt
A sterile dragon lingered to a natural death,
But in a year the spoor had vanished from the heath;
The kobold's knocking in the mountain petered out.
Only the sculptors and the poets were half sad,
And the pert retinue from the magician's house
Grumbled and went elsewhere. The vanished powers were glad
To be invisible and free: without remorse
Struck down the sons who strayed their course,
And ravished the daughters, and drove the fathers mad.
2.2k
Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight?
Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish,
Baring teeth that leer like skulls' teeth wicked?
Stroke on stroke of pain, - but what slow panic,
Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets?
Ever from their hair and through their hands' palms
Misery swelters. Surely we have perished
Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish?
- These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished.
Memory fingers in their hair of murders,
Multitudinous murders they once witnessed.
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading blood from lings that had loved laughter.
Always they must see these things and hear them,
Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles,
Carnage incomparable, and human squander
Rucked too thick for these men's extrication.
Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented
Back into their brains, because on their sense
Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black;
Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh.
- Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous,
Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses.
- Thus their hands are plucking at each other;
Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging;
Snatching after us who smote them, brother,
Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.
2.2k
A nymphet,
A fruit never to be tasted
Forbidden.
And sadden it would be wasted.
Stollen
Never asking but demanded.
Ravished
A desire never to be sated.
a youth wasted,because we never waited.
The weight I bear it well.
Tempting the fates
I dreaded hell.
Our death awaits.
Dipped to deep in her spell.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC