"seducer" poems
Did you ever know love…
was it always hard to define?
Were your lies a seducer…
for me to believe you were mine?
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
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.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
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 kill’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.
6.5k
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?
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
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
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
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.
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 9:50 AM UTC
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)
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
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.
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
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.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:22 AM UTC
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
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
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
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
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.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 7:44 AM UTC
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.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
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.
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 8:01 AM UTC
"Nature"
seducer sublime
taking up all
of my time
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 7:21 PM UTC
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 pot-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.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 12:15 PM UTC
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.
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
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
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 4:19 PM UTC
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?
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
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
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
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
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
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
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
I know that our efforts all come to nothing. Analyze life, tear its trappings off, lay it bare with thought, with logic, with philosophy, and its emptiness is revealed as a bottomless pit; its nothingness frankly confesses to nothingness, and Despair comes to perch in the soulI know the end of us all is nothing, I know that at the end of Time, the reward of our toil will be nothing — and again nothing. I know that all our handiwork and all our ideas will be destroyed. I know that not even ash will be left from the fires that consume us. I know that our ideals, even those we achieve, will vanish in the eternal darkness of oblivion and final non-being. There is no hope, none, in my heart. I know, No promise, none, can I make to myself and to others. No recompense can I expect for my labors. No fruit will be born of my thoughts. I know the time — eternal seducer of all men, eternal cause of all effects — offers me nothing but the blank prospect of annihilation. So, my dignity is broken and weak, in recognition of my impending defeat.
The man who is alone, who stands on his own feet, who is stripped bare, who asks for nothing and wants nothing, who has reached the apex of disinterestedness not through blind renunciation but through excess of clear vision, turns to the world which stretches out before him as a burned prairie, as a devastated city — a world in which no churches, asylums, refuges, ideals, are left — and says: «Though you promise me nothing I am still with you, I am still an atom of your energies, my work is part of your work; I am your companion and your mirror as you march on your merciless way. But I owe nothing to any one. I would be responsible to freedom alone.
Feb 15, 2024
Feb 15, 2024 at 8:39 AM UTC
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
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
1.
A seducer snails’ past
Her Calling mission has reviled
Undoubting triumph
2．
Olympic monument
Reunification spikes
spirits of justice
3.
Her calling mission
Transmit to earnestly love
Unveiled the truth
4.
Harmonize rhythmic move
with a secular ring
She performs a wild ballet
5.
The waves of light
Transparent erase recreation.
Wind swirled her faith
6.
An entire steel
fairies bumble, tumble, fumble
in bloom white
7
Mysterious sketch
An angle of 17 degree
legendary explore
8.
136 meter measures
holly patient in affliction
ego human mind
9.
Fantasised loop
how sad that it’s not aware
tremble gamble dreams
10.
Clouds rumbles
He moves toward the sun
Gold torch, birds crowd
11.
Calatrava attribute to Gaudi
The earth’s great sketch trick
eyes to hip in glories.
12.
Emotions are tides
Barcelona was heir to full
gazing at distant galaxies
Oct 20, 2021
Oct 20, 2021 at 8:51 AM UTC