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Suzy Hazelwood Nov 2014
Did you ever know love…
was it always hard to define?
Were your lies a seducer…
for me to believe you were mine?
Jester Jun 2016
If you are the healer lay your hands on me, I am diseased you can set me free. If you have the will I have the desire, if you collect ashes send me into the fire.

If you are the liar then I am the fool, I wanna hurt myself by being close to you.

So catapult me into the sun and I'll burn baby burn, catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.

If you are the liar I am the fool I will survive to be used as your tool.

Ten pence piece lays heavy on the heart, loose change love affair that's falling apart.

so catapult me into he sun and I'll burn baby burn, catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.

Breakdowns and shakedowns got me bruised by your heart, it wasn't the words it was action from the start! You are the seducer I am the user together we feed off of each other.

so catapult me into the sun and I'll burn baby burn, yes catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.
I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all
    oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with
    themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,
    neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband—I see the treacherous seducer
    of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be
    hid—I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny—I see martyrs and
    prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea—I observe the sailors casting lots who
    shall be ****’d, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon
    laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these—All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look out
    upon,
See, hear, and am silent.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
The happy medium tea astrologer
Her tea leaves Google her anytime
Tea leaves of her poems

Another divine tea party just ask
Her lady of the Queen-dom
The fee for fun I'm in with
the mad crowd tea on the run
The tea party is getting loud
Eating those bonbons dreams
start to steep and stir he had his
overflow the house of Bel Air
Meet the Prince passionate
purple rain

Your cake and tea lips became a pain
You couldn't get a wink of the full
body flavor sleep

She’s the Subrosa tea worshipper

TEA TOUCH HER
TEACUP 1/2 TEARS
Her power not to push her moving
away from all the fears and years
Did the cat get your tongue?

He watches her in her sleep
He sees her tea eyes awake
All women stalk and tea talk
So much to write with tea poem

In France dark roast coffee
the secret competition was
my tea blend the winner raffle
It is au fond to be gratefully
Please don’t bottle Snapple
Remember you have the potential all
green money
but your eyes doorway he walks out
with your money? ahh

“Alltheformores” Tea tree lady calories
O-MY-God!

Mr.Tea toucher agent man
He keeps his right-hand
driving and the other hands Mmm…
Eyes ahead and hands on my tea
The green Emmy with poison ivy
She is the cherry pie of the black
cherry tea lie

How sneakily she buttered our cups that
butterscotch
How the seducer reducer tea she ******
up to him.

That secret’s its written in junk
buy one exotic hot-shot blend of
tea has her wits and
character and *****
So you don't stink like a rat pack
Eyes like an old tea bag
On a plane getting jet lag
smelling like a skunk

The green bull-eyes  army combat
trained always complains when
tea attention no baby blues
the green envy eyes
twice a week
tantalizing tea flavor vanilla
Godiva
On the Orient Express
Her tough exterior like a boss
not to cross
get involved with her assistant

She never brings the secret
flavor coffee on time and my tea is
Like a fortune cookie in rhymes
what tea business show business
homes ((Madhouse Paparazzi))
Eating hot sauce Ronzoni  half- Gothic
Sensual tea blend **** Bill ******
wouldn’t want to be anywhere
close to her dreams twice
Like a flower the subject Rosa
a petal of her tea

How can anyone see
through her spectrum
of colors scaring her face?
  That Madonna rebel heart of teas
Papa starts to
preach our teas
confessions
How did we touch tea leaf nerve?

Heres exactly what you deserve

Don’t we have an hour?
Tea demonstration of women's
hot boiling teas how the men
go down on their knees
When she wiped the steam off
she could see his face tea leaves

MADLY TEA PARTY OF SECRETS

Like those Rebel of Robin bird hearts
teacup of more tears
Going to the Spa that sauna
really drenched her
she was thinking of him.

How many secrets can we reveal?
Let’s not worry how we see through
peoples face as they stir their spicy tea
We all get a chance to take our last sip
of your lover’s tea

Tea Victorian could flower petal anyone's
thoughts hot-headed or over
Her iced ways or flaming her name
Ginger honey bear deeper the love affair
Her spiritual awakening transformation
Teavana or tea mint just another secret

TEA TOUCH HER TEACUP

1/2 hearts new start
She got mad but kept her cool to blush
her moving away from all the fears
who cares when we have the tea
forming to tears
it shows how we really are

She loved the shades of Japanese garden
So green suited her tree-lined block
Her pink sofa with such greenery
as her visions came strong he was there
All the time in her musical blend song

Whats in my drink, see her face
anxiously, what awaits, see her
through an ****** painting,
how it drips in a
Native-land Naples Italy
Those teacup puppies and French skirt
She narrow's anyone street you cannot
get anyone
To taste her tea for the couple beat
The museum addictions like an art
Colesium  the built for speed of teas
/Medium Astrologers/**** sipping
Watching the beauty of the statue's
Micheal Angelo, the musician playing
his Cello at least her teas weren't that
wiggly green jello

So Iced Queen tea spice
Romeo
Hello-Poetry
The exotic tiger Bengal teas
she roars in her jungle
poet clean mint tea
healthy gals
antioxidant
Green planet rocker leather
how his pants spread to the tip of
the shining armor book
she kept tight-lipped on you

She felt dragged how you were tied
secretly fit into her teacup
engraved ankle

Lips got damped tea flavors all limited
needed to give him
my special pampering all tramps
and tea thieves green shimmering
blend her best teas
Chai teas cinnamon girly

And the others Green 50+++ shades
deeper body vibe
Became mermaid blowfish tribe
Where like the Italian made
leash warriors
Roman empire ordered
a death wish

Tea secrets now or present
too smitten kitten tea gloves
and he was saying
I must have an heir,

Could fool anyone’s millionaire *** plan
became the butler’s on the deep-end
Madly tea taking the bad stick
such a plea
another scorching Porshe wrong coffee
tongue those mermaids turned the darkness
Grunge black side of their tea

Madly have eyes for you wilderness of
hearts deliciously
exposed
The pinball got caught too many sticky buns
they bit into___?

Those butler quarters was he going
to improve
all her secret’s wave of tiredness,
too much nickel and dime tea shops
She tried to subdue her situation
Barhops tea sips and she had away
by stirring her lips
Would she pay for her sins later?

Surfing the computer emailed or tea for two
mailed in a compromising tea imported love
what about tomorrow tea tears of sorrow

Let’s not focus too much on secrets
of forgotten yesterday

All her troubles so far away from Ireland
Or Liverpool London every tea bag
went nowhere
Yesterday song went everywhere imported
like her foreign exchange trade of teas
a mad tea party
no Alice Odd Moms invited


Tea Toucher ruling the world with magic

What’s really ringing, on the surface,
those terrible two teenagers? Something they
lost became tragic
Sage Tea-lady of Mount Fiji spice
Those greener then life mountain
tops to climb

How she opened his horizon to fan him on

over the media tea seduction escorted

Impression’s of intoxicating herbs imported
mermaids too many tails to slam
Strawberry field black tea forever with Beatles
Robin Bird of “ROOBUS, she was red devil blend
let’s trade  or swap some ****** teas for a tease

That madly kind of seduction
She has it all in her, patch sachet smells,
of ****** pleasure spices up words.
What is the reason for all this?
We never beg they gave
her a poem with a tea hug
Madly for anything but when we fink of tea does it relax you or feel like a tranquilizer or looking out of your bay window to see the sunrise well this is a tea blend story poem like no other relax let your tea kettle whistle Robin tea-bird is on your sill
jdmaraccini Apr 2013
One windy day the storm clouds came and blew the pages away. A book about presumptuous children who were lost in mediocrity. As the flickering reel of images flashes with burning waves, memories riddled with shame sunk into the ocean of flames. That is when the seducer of old cast his soul into me, into a river he fell, into the rivers of hell.

From page to page the pen runs red with ink, as we drift into the darkness will you remember me? The final chapter is left for you to read, I close my eyes and say your name, then conjure you a king. Next to a fire wrapped in a blanket a beautiful smile follows a kiss. A flickering light across her face, with poison on her lips. He slumped to the ground gasping for air, then death took his breath.

The serpent of false dreams forces men to crawl. A misplaced faith brings misery as kingdoms and nations fall. Into the burning windmill, the windmill of spinning dreams. As it burns a hole in your soul, will you believe what you see?
© JDMaraccini 2013
firexscape Jul 2014
Falling in love
Is messed up enough
But when you fall in love with madness
It is a twisted sort of hell
It's not unlikely,
Oh no
Madness is a seducer
Holding the key to your soul
When you fall for insanity
You're drowning and gasping for air
Yet laughing and imploring
To be pulled further down,
Torn further and further
Away from your mind


But there is one thing you should know
Madness never will
Love you back
It's not catchy; insanity doesn't have to be
Moss M Jacques Mar 2021
She didn't set out to be a seductress
Until she became a seducted
She was afraid of love
Not wanting to see her heart
Being devastated in stitches,
By a thousand cuts
You're a seducer, she said to him
Why do you say that? He asked politely.
Because the first time we met
You melted me like a mountain of snow
Melting away in the summer.
I must confess: I thought I built giant walls
To protect me from a man like you.
There you are, tearing them down altogether
without allowing me the benefit of a fight.
Really? he exclaimed
Tell me more.
you walked up to me
you touched my hands flirtatiously
you look me straight in the eyes
and compliment me with a calm, balanced,
Masculine and confident voice.
I didn't expect it,
I didn't want it,
I was blown away.
She continued:
I was a lost soul; you shelter me.
I was a lost ship; you seize me.
I was a lost bird; you cage me.
I was a diamond in the rough,
You dig me out and make me yours.

And what do you think of me now?
You're a happy man.
Why do you say that? He asked.
She replied:
You know how to give and receive pleasure.

Down memory lane,
If you elect to remember one thing about me
What would that be?
She answered:
You intrinsically love women.
© 2021copyrighted material provided for educational purposes only.
This poem is a tribute to men who value and love women and the women who value and love them back.
This poem is for all the beautiful Emmas of the world. If your first name is Emma, this is for you.
Edna Sweetlove Aug 2015
This is one of Barry Hodges' most inspired memories.

  'Twas morning time in times of yore and I, bold Barry Hodges, stood outside my store, my giant vegetables on display for all to see, when lo and behold! a luxurious limousine drew up, and from the back there emerged a gorgeous form of voluptuous statuesque feminity.
  "My God!" I cried, it is that beauteous lady from *La Dolce Vita
, the wondrous Anita - and I gazed with joyous on her divine body, imagining it sprawled lasciviously in my bed, legs open as wide as a major road junction on the M1 motorway.
  "Excuse me", said she in that Italo-Swedish voice guaranteed to make any man wet himself copiously, "But I am a-lookink for a shop a-called 6B, and yet all I can-a-see is a Barry Hodges' the Master Geengrocer's, complete with a giant cucumber or two, which I 'av to say remind me of somet'ing tasty."
"Dearest lady, said I, you have come to the right place: 6B is the trading name of my sister enterprise: Barry Bodgers' Boil Bursting Beauty Bureau which is located upstairs, Barry Bodgers at your service, my dearest, most delightful Fru Ekberg."
"Shhhhhhhhh! I am een deesguise, not even dear Federico knows I am-a-here." And thus, assuring her of my utmost discretion, and forming a bond by saying that I too, the famous Geordie seducer, Barry Hodges, had indulged in a slight nomenclatural change in order to separate the two sides of my business interests, and in order to do a spot of money laundering on the side.  "But," I enquired, "How is it that you have need of the rather specialised medical services we offer, you who are so radiant and bella-bella?" She lowered her eyes seductively and promised to reveal her terrible secret.

As I ushered her up the stairs to the studio, my eyes on her ****-cheeks wiggling like two delectable beach ***** in a sack, she told me the sad tale of the immense boil which kept recurring on the middle of her back and which no amount of corrective surgery could fix.
"Aha!" I exclaimed, "Only Barry Bodgers, the world's greatest boil-sucker, can effect the cure for which you long, and I shall operate on you personally, not entrusting such a task to even the best of my boil-bursting minions." I added to myself, "Also I want to give you a good old bonking while we're at at."

Once we attained the privacy of my consulting room, I instructed her to strip off utterly so I might examine her, and I can tell you, dear reader, that her **** **** was a joy to behold. I too divested myself of my clobber, knowing that boil-******* can get a bit messy at the best of times. Jesus wept!, but the mighty boil betwixt her graceful shoulders revealed when de-plastered was a true horror, with a yellow tip as big as a Grade One Belgian Turnip. I explained that I would **** it out whilst I rogered her from the rear and that, when she felt her ****** on the way, she should scream out to that effect and I would then bite the core of the boil right out in a blaze of mutual ******* glory, before applying a dose of my exclusive Boil Preventative Cream, namely a handful of our conjoined love-juices extracted from her gaping ***** by hand a few seconds earlier.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" screamed the Swedish bombshell and with a mighty **** like an industrial Dyson FX334 on full power, I slurped and  razor-bit the boil, bursting it asunder, smothering my eager face in blood and putrid pus, thereby causing me to blow my *** as ne'er before. The green core of the boil emerged from its fleshly cavity with a deafening plop as we came together like a nuclear blast d'amour.

O, but only then, as my seminal outpourings soaked my jim-jams, did I awaken to discover yet another nocturnal emission. And, not unexpectedly, dear Nurse Nellie, having heard my cry of ecstasy, rushed in to my bedroom, head-shaking and tut-tutting as usual, as she knelt down and licked my tum-tum dry.
"Yum, yum" she murmured in her dulcet Northumbrian tones, "Ah've looked after three generation o' Hodges laddies, and I kin tell ye, your *****'s the tastiest of them all, ye bonnie wee man."
"Better than Grandad Charlie's?"
"Why aye, mon, yours is well creamier."
In the lazy
late afternoon light
when everything seems dreamlike
she comes to me.
Smiling coyly she undoes a clasp,
her robe slips off the shoulder.
I watch the fabric water like
flow over her body.
Hanging on her *******;
heavy with the ripeness of youth,
it pauses
then slips over her ***** brown *******...
One bouncing, then the other.
Following her curves,
past the hollow of her navel...
exposing her crowning glory,
her woman's furry triangle
so warm and moist and welcoming.
Like an admiring hand,
the falling cloth
traces the wonderful curve of her ***,
and down her long, smooth legs
to pool languidly at her feet.
She undoes her dark hair
shakes her head and lets it fall.
In all her glory she stands before me
eyeing me hungrily...
No seducer but prey am I.
This is my take on Ovid's Amores 1.5
Samantha Marie Jul 2018
I have learned from a young age that I would attract a certain kind of attention. Prepped for the stares I would receive for being more well endowed in the areas that spark lust in men. From a youthful age sexualized, only sought after for one purpose. One glance and thoughts are shifted to fantasy. Never asked about feelings or emotions, just questioned about how I can satisfied needs. I am only looked at as a fun time never a long time. They all believe that because I look a certain way, that I must have all these men in my bed, and that I am only in their presence for pleasure. My sanity is often questioned, once they realize that I am not a seducer or temptress that falls in to the hands of multiple men. But they also have the mentality to wonder why someone like myself is distant, guarded and closed off.
(Looks gone to waste in their eyes, tainted in my own)
07/30/18
I have never learned self love in my life, still haven't
I have had multiple voices telling me how I should look, what I should show or not to show, how I should use these(looks)
My body& looks have never felt like my own, they are loved by many but hated by the keeper.
Rangzeb Hussain Aug 2010
Madness round about us and no one knows,
Memories of ember fired trust,
Watch them, these entombed brains,
Piano sonata, violin concerto, torn notes,
Who are the ******, them or us?

Madness, insanity, absurdity, irrationality,
Craziness, dementia, stupidity, psychosis,
Senility, fanatical, deranged, mental,
Foolishness, hysterical, delusional, frenzied,
Psychotic, maniacal, lunacy, neurosis, disordered,
Take these notes and from them weave
A hymn to chaos.

And so here it begins...

Bee bar locked up honey sting hive,
For them that have wept grains of sand warm yet wet,
In that dark distant horizon mountain bark,
Onion quake cuts splash serrated blade,
Insanity uncorked frothy so seeps humanity.

Orphan sky spits pregnant daggers drip,
Wing plucked harpies never will sing,
Dead sailors salted lie in silken mermaid beds,
Schooners sail the scattered chase round the horned tail,
Skulls bubble air sockets freed from cloven trouble.

Roads webbed spiralled butterfly miles of bottled lies,
Venom harvested acres baked into medicine,
Undone years plunged inside veins popped into mouths,
I loved you know,
No, no, you did not know for all eternity.

Hope filed cabinet all lost my ghostly dancer,
Rooms silver sunned windows seared,
Playground memories brim on the haze,
Smoke fogged pipes puffed clouds,
Asleep amongst trees over green glass grass blades frost.

Hold fingers to hands strange,
Notes ring around maze tower of desires,
Low sands but tides rise and torrents break or fall,
Alone we enter same goes exit,
Midnight clowns ****** into dreamscapes.

Creased rage silver ironed steam brains,
Unfurl flags red and painted war pain,
Impotent artful eye with sedated lust,
Boil drum not loud remember to listen,
Say less, speak more, silence best of all.

Galleons crawl upon the divided cloud docks,
Look there, point to starboard land ahoy,
Deep bosomed tear slaked shore,
Sense mixed universe reduced to a tick-tock,
Never shall it stand, withered time no glance past.

Adios, fare thee well, goodbye, auf wiedersehen,
Tongues weep, eyes talk, observe tender songs silence,
Contradiction philosophises perplexing paradoxes pure,
Marbles, one and all, drown in the air,
Narrow, so narrow are those who judge all.

Sin to fear and all is terror called,
Wanton doves warble tunes broken,
Afraid I was, too wrapped in fear coiled I,
To know fright and bride forsake,
Never were holes deeper dug.

Reason not the rhythm nor rhyme,
Pandora, oh Pandora, what hast thou done?
Stare upon thy casket coffin spread-eagled,
Fire stealer Prometheus universal milk burns,
Gorgon Medusa snake dancer charmer seducer.

Silent bones drum against skin, wake up fool!
White winged dove blood red beak suite,
Humbled blood sore butchered vows vain,
Then as now silent partner is all,
Meant so much more you were.

Rapier, pistol, kiss and hold, to my temple place,
Slash, bang, smack and rake, let matter escape,
What uncharted continents we all are,
Walls rise hand bricked high over hill and sky,
Dilated screams of the civil dead no wall can cage.

Tears glitter sky to earth,
Seeding jewels amongst dung natural,
Fountains colour horizon wide,
Sanity transfigured stitched, haggled,
Eternal slaughter diamond edged sold.

Torquemada burrows rib cracked skin blood,
Skeleton tomb dust for leprosy romance,
Wail now poor Quasimodo tongue-tied,
No one to keep company but rat bones,
Unborn, forgotten, locked and barred.

Hush there! Let there be deafening silence,
Lie, cuddle snuggle, caress dark death,
There, still now, wipe away sleep,
Space time galaxies born in minds beyond measure,
Planets die, titans die, you and me we all certify.

Madness here! She creeps into bed mine,
Yours too! Oh, how richly embraced we,
Paris Town cellars breed inmates,
Lice tea stirred drunk and promises sung,
Escape none, trapped all, sky above and death underfoot.

This asylum madness no wall can hold,
Floats into night skies and into ears young,
Oh no, goodness no, you cannot out keep it in,
Destroy the house of madness you cannot,
Dost thou fear thyself knave? ‘tis merely a jest most musical,
All the chords sprinkled peppered and cast asunder.*



©Rangzeb Hussain
Cinnam Muscat Sep 2011
Water horse, sea demon
She demon, green-eyed sprite.
Hunted for centuries
By knights and teenage boys alike.

An avenging spirit of
The frightened and slight,
Yet she cannot travel far
From her watery prison.

Green-eyed monster
As slippery as the weeds
That grow in her underwater
Bower

Lost children and virtuous
Maidens alone have ridden
The demon and survived,
Carried safely to the marsh's edge.

Cabbyl-Ushtey, the water horse,
Seducer of weary travellers -
Unless they possess an innocent heart;
Few escape the watery grave

They vanish into a well as
Mysterious as the mare that lives in it,
Deeper than the ocean and as
Dark as the souls it swallows.
annanotherthing Apr 2017
I’m Medusa, yes Medusa
Not long life that was Methuselah
Vile violent visage I am the muse for
Gorgon legend is my future

I’m abused and an abuser
I am used and I’m a user
Magnet to so many suitors
Once a beauty now a bruiser

Myth: Just deserts for killer cougar
Truth: ***** then accused as a seducer
Athene was my disapprover
Sisterhood is just a rumour

Hair curled tight it can’t get smoother
Locks they’re snakes crawled from a sewer
Lovers now they’re getting fewer
Call me mad it’s only lunar

Perseus my persecutor
In slaying Titans he’d been tutored
He is blessed, I’m outmanoeuvred
My death births Pegasus the wing’d hoofer

Seem to have lost my sense of humour
Need more than a troubleshooter
Temperature has just got cooler
Turn to stone you’re such a loser

anna jones ©2017
Medusa Oct 2018
The masculine assault upon the reluctance of the “coy” woman lies at the heart of Marvell’s best-known love poem—perhaps the most famous “persuasion to love” or carpe diem poem in English—”To his Coy Mistress.” Everything we know about Marvell’s poetry should warn us to beware of taking its exhortation to carnality at face value. Critics from T. S. Eliot on took note of the poem’s “logical” structure, but then it began to be noticed that the conditional syllogism in that structure is invalid—a textbook case of affirming the consequent or the fallacy of the converse. Has Marvell made an error? Or does he attribute an error to the speaking persona of the poem? Or is the fallacy part of the sophistry that a seducer uses on an ingenuous young woman? Or is it a supersubtle compliment to a woman expected to recognize and laugh at the fallacy? These alternatives must be judged in the light of the abrupt shifts in tone among the three verse paragraphs. In the opening lines the seducer assumes a pose of disdainful insouciance with his extravagant parody of the Petrarchan blason:



An hundred years should go to praise
Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze.
Two hundred to adore each Breast:
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An Age at least to every part,
And the last Age should show your Heart.

Although the Lady is said to “deserve this State,” the compliment is more than a little diminished when the speaker adds that he simply lacks the time for such elaborate wooing. It is also likely that most women would be put off rather than tempted by the charnel-house imagery of the poem’s middle section where the seducer, sounding like a fire-and-brimstone preacher, warns that “Worms shall try / That long preserv’d Virginity.” Finally, the depiction of ****** intimacy at the poem’s close, with its vision of the lovers as “am’rous birds of prey” who will “tear our Pleasures with rough strife,” is again a disconcerting image in an ostensible seduction poem. The persona’s desire for the reluctant Lady is mingled with revulsion at the prospect of mortality and fleshly decay, and he manifests an ambivalence toward ****** love that is pervasive in Marvell’s poetry.”
I think Marvell was a true genius. I try never to confess this, because I do not argue about opinions. You keep yours, and I keep mine. Thus I won't have to punch anybody in the face when somebody says "Shakespeare didn't even write his own work!"  and "there goes another idjit, face down in the gutter in front of Mother's Tavern on a Saturday night." . . . ."Who's that lil gal runnin' away in the shredded jeans?"
joanna dibble Mar 2012
the gentleman's a patient wolf
he trails his prey so quietly
and plans their quick demise.

his initial fascinations
are figments of imagination-
like melting rainbows, quickly forgot.

an earthy seducer ...
all the tragic ladies
immured in their addictions.

his sharp eye will quickly find
yet another quivering quail
in tallest grasses.

such eager craving -
born of hungry desires
the hunter's instinct
Tim Knight Dec 2012
A well cured woman with
tied back hair and
a Mac for fashion,
with also a mac for all weather action,
sat across from me on the train.

Probably sexually active and
without a doubt physically attractive,
she wore morals not money.
PETA badges peppered her lapel,
as she toyed with the check-in details
for the Four Seasons Hotel.
Never will I forget her scent;
high class, high art, high culture,
all distilled within a single
sculpture of smell.
My word, how she spoke so softly,
on the phone or too herself,
even when she asked me for help.

Definitions aren't embodied
in a person that often.
Maybe ex-girlfriends define hell,
but sitting-on-a-train-Mac-user
personified beauty, love,
and the everlasting man seducer.
From www.coffeeshoppoems.com/
Ayeshah Nov 2014
I've never deliberately
caused you pain,

a purpose
you've intentionally

left me in shambles....

Torturous love

fickle lustrous seducer

the root to all my evil misery....

Vulture revolting dictator

handing out punishments

for the way I feel for you.....

Can't you just hold me,
touch me tender

leave me waking
in delicious delirium,

instead of constantly
leaving me -

wanting,
needing & yearning.

I've never deliberately
caused you pain,

a purpose
you've
intentionally

left me in shambles....

Laugh
dead in my face

as
I confessed
my hearts longing...

The past isn't where
I live yet it haunts me

in my present
and
lingers there taunting
reminding me of the doom
I'll never escape....

You've helped me reminisce
captured us
in a time capsule,

where
we'd blissfully engage
on a lover's quest-

to conquer each others internal flame.

Somewhere along the way

the lines blended to where
You've forgot how important

I'm pose to be to you,
to where
I've failed to acknowledge

you have feelings too
and
men do cry
even if its on the inside

We've both forgot how
words leave wounds....

I cry
you leave
I fuss
you drink
I run
you chase

You drive away
I beg you back.....

In circles again & again
this pattern remains.

somewhere within us is still
the gentleman & his lady

this new us
we've accepted
must die
and
we become
the doting couple

let us
learn all over again.

Not this stranger you see
before you

or
someone
I've never seen
behave so reckless

where my utmost desires & feelings no longer are his concern,

bring me back & give me life.....

I've never deliberately caused you pain,

a purpose you've intentionally

left me in shambles....

Torturous love

fickle lustrous seducer

the root to all my evil misery....

Vulture revolting dictator

handing out punishments

for the way I feel for you.....

Can't you just hold me,
touch me tender

leave me waking in
delicious delirium-
come home,
come here & make love to me
or
CAN YOU MAKE THIS MAKE SENSE TO ME?!*

Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
         K.A.C.L.N ©
     All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present
sometimes love or lust isn't enough, but for now it helps...
a lady can dream right?!?
Sarah Jystad Feb 2010
Here is the situation,
As unfortunate as it is,
You no longer have a significant part of my heart.
Once there used to be a time, twice a time, when thoughts
bombarded my mind and chances were they concerned you.
But now my eyes, as reluctant as they are, can see you,
You unintentional enchanter.
You accidental seducer.
You oblivious snarer of infatuated captivation.
You are the alpha of canker blossoms.
You are the epitome of everything that frustrates me.

I used to live in a house where the
Walls were your voice and your face.
A mental institution in which I was never voluntarily admitted.
A house of mirrors in which I couldn’t see myself or anybody else,
My thirst for your infatuation reflected,
Mocking smiles of every kind.

I cried blackened tears that fell to the
Ground and then flew into the sky like
Bleached ravens, like childhood dreams,
So carefully groomed by the mommies and the daddies,
Collapsing into little liquid drops dripping through the desperate holes of a strainer.

I cried because you seemed to find it
Necessary to seek interests in other girls
And never me.
I am not a bruised apple;
I am not a crushed autumn leaf;
I am not a discarded baby blanket;
And I am not unworthy.
So why in god’s oh so deemed holy name
Have you not seen me?

Or maybe you see it right on my face,
Like I’m a displayed canvas as easy to
See as red blushed from a pale, void surface,
And you are just messing with me.
Playing with me
As I am your spaniel and you can treat me as such?
Like I am a doll whose string you pull
And receive a pathetic voice pleading,
Love me love me.
Am I below your standard of interesting?
What could possibly be so wrong with or about me that repulses you?
Not you really, but more your interest in me.
At this moment I am wound tighter with exasperation
More than any moment before.
You will always be a tug of war in my life.
If only I could simply expel you,
The nuisance you are.
12/22/08
Muzaffer Apr 2019
meltemin
yüzüme savurduğu çiçeği kokluyor
büyülü straplezi gecenin

fısıldıyor
cesur ve utanmaz..

sayalım
göğün kızlarını yine

sen sağdan, ben soldan
kirli sözler söyle bana
duralım 70’e 1 kala, ama
ağzın doluyken konuşma

ki bilirim
yakar nefesin
alazı kor dudaktan
tutulur grizuya
kasılırım yeni baştan

ve
bilirim
orda
gündoğumunda

kenarında yatağın
boşalırız aynı anda
deliksiz bir uykuya...
Tori Jurdanus May 2012
Mary Jane

Seducer of young men and women.

Shaking hands at ten bucks a pop,
Then pulling them in to an embrace they cannot escape from.

Even if they'd wanted to.

You are the green outsides when
Their insides are blue.

You promise them solution,
relief.
But rarely follow through.

YOU are something I despise.

And I,
am not just some prep.

Some ***-head-hating *****
who knocks it before she's tried.

I tried,

to hang on, that is.

While you pulled them away from me.

I'll never forget the look in her too-red eyes
when she told me I couldn't stay.
That she'd made other plans that day.

That day and every other from then on.

I could smell your perfume tangled in her hair.
When she hugged me good bye.

That's twice now.

Twice now you stole my best friend
With promises of popularity and good humor.

That's twice you ripped out my heart.

Twice too many times.
I've written sobering rhymes against you.

And they were not the first.

I know I can't blame you, completely.

You didn't take their names.
You didn't make them make the choice,
You didn't force their voice to strip me down to tears.

And you didn't tell me to say no, when I had the chance
To dance with you.

But you gave them the option to,
All the while,
Whispering sweet nothings into their ears.

Pulling at their fingertips.

Promising gifts you could not guarantee.

And last night,
I could taste you on his lips.

I could see your shadow forming in his lungs
As he spoke.

So, Mary Jane.
I am begging you.

Please.

Don't.

Don't show him that their is no other lover better than the company of you.

Don't show him the side of you that only
One who'd tried it could know
And let him love it.

I don't think I could take another blow
of your breath in my face,

If,
...when...
With diffident intentions,
He turns away.
Oh how opinions change...
Casper DM Aug 2012
It started as small engine,
Buzzing,
Of the insect wings.
The ballet between the stem,
And the seducer.
The blossom to be violated,
With the natural lust,
Of flight.
The swelling tummy,
And promise of peace,
Of fulfillment and joy.
And gods own
Breath upon the skin.
Hope that fights,
Against an early frost,
Hides from the aphid's teeth,
And swallows beak.
Proud mother glowing from Color,
Of a slow ripening fruit,
Upon the branches.
Basking in the sun and moon,
And growing bolder still.
Praying for the moment of release,
Never turning to watch the tears,
Left in it's place.
Walking,
Running,
Tumbling,
Falling,
Wanting, yet
Knowing never,
To be collected.
Left here,
Upon the cold
Dead leaves of ancestors.
Eaten away with decay,
Taken by the disease,
Of this earth.
As tears fall from high,
Only to shatter
Against the frozen ground.
Eileen Prunster Sep 2012
"Nature"
seducer sublime
taking up all
of my time
I want  to smash the face out of my head and spin it around until the room turns red,
I want you to know that i never cared about you or your lame game,
I want you to know your trendiness will only find loneliness,
I want you to know i love you,
I want you to know i need you,  
I want you to want me as much as i need you,
I want to die without you,
I'd like to cut you into pieces and eat you,
then you'd be mine....forever.
you make me want to throw it all in the gutter, and lick it back up again.
you make me insane.
I'll be great.....  without you. pessimist.
seducer.
false friend.
I'd like to **** myself and blame it on you.
then you'd be sad.
I bet you wouldn't.
steel heart of emptyness and lost dreams.
you crave the weak to make you look stronger.
I'd like to say i never cared.
I'd like to say i lied to your stupid ******* face.
I'd like to say it all to you.
but you're not worth my breath.
my air is more valuable than your life, the life's of a thousand tyrants like you.
you all can die.
you will too.
i am the one.
that's stuck here.
in hell.
irinia Jan 2017
'Traum ist des Besuchers Schaum'

love,
imposition,
matryoshka dolls
sore cage-ribs
stories are replayed,
everywhere crossroads with no signs

we cross each other
heads are heavy like pumpkins in the sun
hearts weary of keeping hope alive
I recompose myself within the confinement of sunrise
falling falling further further down
to the anarchy of living
the seduced seducer, the ripped ripper
the air collapses on collars, lapels

we all visit the fountain of thirst
secretly

they still want to learn what love is
the visitors with hurricane hearts and hungry hands
the trainers of dyeing darkness

dog days are over
healing hands are genuine and humble
he finally feels the lightness of the heartbeat

(I no longer look like a fool to you...
yes, you!)
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I've always been accused of being greedy
& maybe I am
I've just never felt comfortable
without two things on the go
a meal I don't know how to end
seeming tunnel vision on the picturesque doe
the frolicking, seducer little fawn in my peripherals
in case I need something to tide me over
Totally just found this in my stash... I do not remember writing this, but I have a nasty habit of logging onto DA when I'm drunk, so this may be a product of such a night. Whatever. Enjoy <3
Helen Sep 2015
Anticipation begins
With a slow hungry beat
Whispered words surge towards
Two hearts that will soon meet
Sweet sounds are plucked
By the merest soft brush
The tune is full
The music is lush
My heart beats in time
To the rhythm you set
You’re a fine musician
Your music I will not forget
Your fingertips move
Like a tribal dancer
You lure, a seducer
A primal romancer
Desire sings in my blood
My body is not immune
You play me like a fine instrument
But I’m loving the tune
The crescendo is all fire
The rhythm is strong
As the last note is fading
I crave the next song

26/07/2010
Tom Mach Mar 2017
O Calliope, muse
of epic poetry
and Erato, seducer
of love poems,
do ye know about
the pains of life
or about the
tremors of the soul itself?
perhaps not.
then where shall i find the true museum muse,
that marvelous explorer of the
labyrinth of life exhibits?
if i discover him
will he reveal to me love held and love released?
will he then disclose to me
the pain, pride, and promise of my existence?
will he flash memories affixed in my heart?
which tomb, then, do i want to unearth?
or am i careless or timid when deciding
which episodes i want others to see and
which i hope to bury?
Taken from The Museum Muse by Tom Mach
Maybe I watch these fools
Because I want to believe
Or because I hold out hope
That one has a word of truth
For me
I've always been disappointed before
But I'm willing to accept a miracle
Were it offered
I have a gut feeling
These fools won't be the ones with that gift
To give

So what, then? Why?
Why do I turn up my nose and
Level a sharp cynical stare
At these snake charming hucksters?
I know all they do
I percieve their intention
I hear the lulling lilt of the seducer's song
That rolls like fragrant incense
From their serpent-tongue mouths
Lips chapped and bleeding
I smell the stench of their breath

All have eyes to see
All have ears to hear
Still the blind lead the blind
Their hands deep in pockets

The damage done
I sit and stare without guilt
Because I love to see the deciever in action
All the better I'll be able to recognize him
When he comes knocking at my door
© 2011 by James Arthur Casey
midnight prague Nov 2010
always keep the lights down
on the sleepless nights where shiver takes over
and then melting becomes a priority
breathing vastly
into open and empty space
I have so much room to move
in my restricted composure
I curl in ways I want

I move through air in simple positions
and I am alone
I drift
harshly into misty regions
where the cold dew falls onto my hair
then slowly down my back
and then I drown
in an ocean of delivery

simply subdued by the character of so many voices
-and the so many voices of this one character

Im plunging deep within unknown objects of fragile nature
I manage to weep
every so often
on days where Im surrounded by too much noise
broken I delight
in sharing my broken thoughts with
you
I press hard against my temple
into the sense where sometimes
a ****** speaks
bound by the lips of a woman dressed in red
the seducer
the destroyer
Cerebral Fallacy Jun 2015
This is the story of a young man who found his feet....
Turning around twisted corners among ancient street of cobblestones,
he felt his numb senses come alive
much like the way young girls come alive
in the aura of a subtle yet extravagant fragrance.

The call of the city was too wild to ignore
and the dastardly cries from empty streets gave strength
to his otherwise weary feet.
The tales of the midnight furies wandering skyline saturated
with giant pods and artificial gadgets
was as powerful as any other rumor of a technology
so wonderful that it will call for another great revolution.
The mall was rife with footfalls and giant screens
with amazing propositions
each promising an experience like never  before.

He is then saturated with experiences that a caveman
would have dreamed of only in his version of "heaven".
"Eternity in a grain of sand" is what the Poet said
in great eloquence but too many "eternal moments"
made him question the existence of an "afterlife".
He pondered "Maybe death makes sense now more than anything..
the dead do not need experience,
they are weary of that burden ****** upon the living."
He turned to visit the grave
but he remembered the words of the wise Philosopher
"Visit the dead in the morning
when the first rays of the Sun kiss the Earth
after she wakes up from her slumber."
He imagined the Night as the time where the Earth slumbered
and dreamt up solid vagaries.
The Night is always "Queer"
but then the Sun arrives with so much clarity
that but then the Neon lights are an intrusion
to this order trying to bring balance to man
caught up in an exchange too lofty for him to understand.

He looked into the night sky
and saw the great manmade light shining into the darkness psychoanalyzing the night and shaming her narrative.
The Neon light stands between light and darkness,
it is dark because plants do not respond
to it the way it does to the sun
but it definitely gives a clarity and a perspective
the Sun can never understand.

What does it mean to walk this city?
The gods hid among nature first,
in forests, rivers, mountains and the clouds
but we bumped into them everyday because of Prometheus's error !!
He suffers eternally with a grin
because he was the only Titan who destroyed the gods from within.

Then the gods hid in cities, farms,
vineyards, temples and the graves of the dead
but we sought them out through Monotheistic rites.
Then they said to themselves
"We are running out of spaces,
perhaps the time is now rife
when we take shelter in human language,
we can deceive mortal men that they have power over their language
but take shelter precisely where they boast complete dominance."

Then they lived among us hidden,
we tried to seek them but could never find them
till one day we found traces of their likeness
in the words we speak and now History is a war!
A war to take language from the gods and take control of History. Deconstruction gave us tactical advantage
and mathematics struck the final blow
and now the gods have run out of spaces
and they inhabit garbage mounds.

They know that that "wastelands" exist in human minds
and we now seek to saturate ourselves with experiences
that we have finally become weary
of this futile war till our machines took over.

They exist only to rid hunt down the gods
at all costs and render the Earth as she is.
We will no longer see traces of the gods
when we look upon the Night sky
but only unmediated objective truth!
Then shall the poets lament,
the kings of the Earth lose their ground,
the archer will shoot with no purpose,
the seducer will lose his cunning
and the skeptic will fall silent.
We try to invent new rituals
but we know that our only purpose here was to defeat the gods.
Nietzsche said that man is a bridge
between the ape and the ubermensch
but little did he know
that the ubermensch was the bridge between him and the Machine!
Here is the story of a young man
who found his feet and matter
was as dense as adamantium and as light as cotton candy....
brandon nagley Aug 2015
A lithe monarch
In the willowy meadow;
Ourn phalanxes sutured
As seducer's of plush marshmallow pillow's.

Avow I shalt, one's high name
I'll be burned for her safety;
Taking her grazing
Drying her in the rain.

Anon her hand, to be on mine wrist
Apostle's of kinship, succulent wish;
None Asp's to swallow in, forgiveness of sin
Assenting in espousal, one letting me in.

To beget her, to giveth her a simper
beggarly I am, as beseeching get's bigger;
Since I'm losing all hope, placeth me on the bier
Moveth mine carrion, into the flame of tear's..



©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Just good writing for noone
Hank Roberts Aug 2010
On my mind lately
The girl dressed in white
She encumbers me greatly
she hides out of site

On my mind lately
Our memories flash
right before my eyes
Mystery gives me this ****

On my mind lately
your beauty never ending
like one of a seducer so unclear
Of what you were intending


On my mind lately
The times shared
and the songs we heard
What made you run scared?

On my mind lately
our understanding
that was so apparent
You're not the one for expanding

— The End —