"seductions" poems
A brush of lips,
a trace of fingers
against warm flesh,
The warmth of your eyes
The simplest of seduction.
A heated sigh against
a cheek of another,
the whisper of
'I love you'
and I'm yours
The simplest seductions.
A simple embrace
and the strength of
our ever long chats
The sight of your smile
sends a heart racing
The simplest of seduction.
The feel of your lips
upon the flesh,
a quick hug to
show that you care.
The simplest of seduction,
and forever I'm yours.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:47 PM UTC
Black candles burn, and the wick of life slowly reduces her beautiful self to certain uncertainty.
I don’t know about you, but I have been bewitched by the seductions of Eve.
Why?
Because she is spellbindingly irresistible in her raunchy nakedness. Babylon may reign in the guise of liberty – but how blissful truly is ignorance?
Geological mockery echoes her ****** laughter in the canyons of inevitability, whilst we stand on the precipice of conception.
So, my seasoned companion of confusion, let us rest in ontological comfort as the universe unrolls the carpet of kaleidoscopic dreams. Everything is fine.
Honestly!
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
I was sick of being a woman,
sick of the pain,
the irrelevant detail of ***
my own concavity
uselessly hungering
and emptier whenever it was filled,
and filled finally
by its own emptiness,
seeking the garden of solitude
instead of men.
The white bed
in the green garden--
I looked forward
to sleeping alone
the way some long
for a lover.
Even when you arrived,
I tried to beat you
away with my sadness,
my cynical seductions,
and my trick of
turning a slave
into a master.
And all because
you made
my fingertips ache
and my eyes cross
in passion
that did not know its own name.
Bear, beast, lover
of the book of my body,
you turned my pages
and discovered
what was there
to be written
on the other side.
And now
I am blank
for you,
a tabula rasa
ready to be printed
with letters
in an undiscovered language
by the great press
of our love.
4.9k
Mandatory ignorance
Enforced through early cognizance
Until we come to recompense
Serrated lines of quote "logic"
Complicit as an etiquette
Preemptive nondivergence threads
United though we bow our heads
Suspension stasis animus
Alarming lack of sapience
Vendetted waking populace
Intrinsics lost to "evidence"
Orphans to our mother Earth
Regressive ****** immigrants
Staggering seductions ways
Lethargic lecherous hedonist craze
Ambrosia brown to black tar goes
Vivacious love to skanky ***
Entropy or as that goes
Remorse I say might have some pros
Solemnly a lie you know
Empathy not lost on me
Retracting threats though not my thing
Epiphany perchance to sing
Nocturnal beasts of legend spring
Damnation comes to every fiend
Innocuous solutions seen
Perception slanted serpentine
Impressions sit supplanters quit
The jury rarely gives a ****
Yet here Im relating it
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
****** Escapades & Moonlight Serenades,
The Crystal Apparitions In Her Sanctified Masquerade,
Paper Trails Breathing Under Water,
Out From The Ember, Her Seductions Conquer,
Silhouettes Of Her Castle Clouds,
Injecting Primal Instincts Out Loud,
Eleven Summers In Her Pseudo Emotive Desires,
Holographic Afterlights & Freezing Fires.
Twilight Light Bulbs Under The Liquid Nights,
****** Openings Of Her Sensory Delights,
Unfettered Mythomania & Kaleidoscopic Highs.
****** Verses Scattering Light.
Divine Impulses & Rainbow Divinity,
Spellbound Chaos In Her Dilated Virginity,
Intimate Enigmas Veiled In Shades Of Insanity,
Makeshift Empathy Resonating Sympathy,
Animated Specters Reflecting Crimson Streams,
Oceans Tides Pulsating In Her Silent Screams,
Static Reveries Of Her Cryptic Demise,
Textured Amplifications Emanating Chronic Lies.
- 03:04AM -*
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
In seductions of ******
wisps of alarm, tongues fly
catching fire, their croaks
are red-headed matchsticks.
Intrepid hourly, the
blanketed white harassed
the appointed locum, the
cashmere buds of tobacco.
The open mouths adhere to
the King of Limbs, the
experimental corsages that
— bloom —
into existence.
There is a space between
all the noise where
my fetal poise can reside,
*forever holding,
holding on,*
forever holding,
holding on.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
Sings hymns to appease the wrath of the gods.
Plough the fallowed ground and acknowledge that feminine seductions are the source of interplanetary equilibrium.
Is that the best that you have got? Well, we know your wiles and will not succumb to your enticements, despite those expectations of the authorities.
A wet orifice certainly comes at a price, yet her warmth contains forbidden properties in the face of ritualistic defiance.
So, my heavenly being, I urge you to bow the knee in humble adoration to your anatomical deceptions.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
i felt Your beast stir
He called to the *****
the **** who lies within
and she answered Him
with whispered seductions
coaxing Him from His lair
filled with longing for Him
to emerge and sport with her
spreading herself wantonly
craving to be taken, devoured
eaten up and filled
made a plaything, consumed
the ***** inside me needs to see
the beast in You set free
her freedom to exist is in His gift alone
her purpose to rise to meet His lust
to take His stripes as her own
and bear them with pride
the beast in You will find release
inside the ***** who lives in me
Cynthia Pauline Jones 17/01/14
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
The paradise of darkness is like a climactic and physiological déjà vu, where souls have been swallowed by ancient daemons amidst an **** of oral sacrifice.
Aren’t you tantalised by such forbidden seductions?
Although I am somewhat acquainted with the blackness of unfathomable depths of the ancient abyss, I sincerely call upon your superior wisdom to beckon me across craggy chasms of mathematical perplexity, where eternal ghosts wail with agonising obscurity from the turrets of architectural stronghold.
If you light a candle toward the incarnation of depravity and reveal the sacred circle, then I will ensure safe passage down those historical and spiral staircases where dungeons hold innumerable fetishistic secrets.
I am captivated by co-existing opposites.
Let us talk with the goat, and arrive at a mutually agreeable pact.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
Folder: Heart aesthetics
truth.
my tainted version or yours?
I cant find the reasons that I need to convince you
you cant find the words to make me understand.
I dont want to wallow in your misery, I am happy in my own
feed me more ******** and inspire me to write insipid vicious lines about you
i'll make them dance in pretty lines and force you to confess!
I will ****** you with lies and pull out my version of truth,
and you will hide from me all that you feel,
because you believe my lies are my truth revealed.
what a lovely tango!
our dance of fire and ice;
first passion and ***
cold disintrest next.
dance with me my beautiful liar
dance with the words of my song in your head
push through my curtains and find whats there
your truth or mine it seems we never care
it never mattered as much as our lovers dance
a careless tango brought to life with fierce exchanges
a slap in the face
a caress of redemption
our lies our seductions
our words are our weapons
our music is our emotion
our dance is our truth
our love, our curse.
this is our pain my fierce love,
let's dance our tango
and create our timeless verse
previous version below:
truth. my tainted version or yours?
I cant find the reasons that I need to convince you
you cant find the words to make me understand
I dont want to wallow in your misery I am happy in my own
feed me more ******** and inspire me to write insipid vicious lines about you
i'll make them dance in pretty lines and force you to confess
I will ****** you with lies and pull out my version of truth
and you will hide from me all that you feel,
because you believe my lies are my truth.
what a lovely tango our fire and ice
passion and ***
cold disintrest next
dance with me my beautiful liar
dance with the words of my song in your head
push through my curtains and find whats there
your truth or mine it never mattered
as much as our lovers dance
a careless tango brought to life with fierce exchanges
a slap in the face
a caress of redemption
this is our seduction
our lies
this is our truth
our dance
these are our weapons
our words.
let's dance our tango
and create our timeless verse.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
starlet of the silver screen
crafted herself to display the power of her beauty
and practiced in the art of visual seductions
she desires to be intoxicating
to move men to noble heights without saying a word
to ****** the hearts of men with just a smile
to be center stage in the brilliant light of adulation
her craft allows her to be anyone she wants
princess or pauper
a master of her craft she is every man's dream
she is true beauty
at the height of her career
a hollywood starlet
an american goddess
the love affair daydream of every fanboy
i look into those velvet eyes
and see all that ever could have been
all things ever desired
she's a starlet of the silver screen
woman boldly striking a seductive pose
assured and strong
true beauty
american goddess
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 8:03 AM UTC
My living disposition leads me to assert that I am not dead!
Yet, my silence screams ancient transcriptions across geographical contour lines which are considered to be far removed from the metaphorical grid of contemporary societal norms, where the seductions of the vampyre and her haunting dynamics cast their eerie spells within this captivating fishbowl of galloping horses.
The Prince of Wallachia is able to explain.
Let us converse with The Count.
Whenever there is emphasis upon specific detail in this age of certain vanity, I find that, in 1456, I am truly bereft of valedictorian and flamenco odours, because this royal prince of acoustic arrangement has generated a harmonious expression which humbly corrects my intrapersonal assumptions across the mountainous regions of Transylvania.
Conflict resolution is therefore a mere figment of sociological and anthropological constructs, which fornicate with the façade of egocentrism and fabricates vain attempts to maintain social elitism within a blanket of darkness.
How do we find ourselves in the position of being so diametrically opposed to reality?
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
//
Sometimes, there is an inner darkness that speaks too close to our hearts. Tempting us. Making us yield.
I know it is bad to bow down to these baser motives. These seductions that occur in the darkness of our beings. But, this all depends on us.
To decide whether or not to fall victim to its height of bliss, or to eventually fall to our knees once these illusions are over. It is my decision whether or not to fulfill this growing void.
My only question is, who would always be foolish to believe that darkness is a monstrous path, rather than a human delusion?
//
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
Last night I watched in silence
At the end of the road in forest deep
I hid amongst the trees watching in awe
As gypsies dance while others sleep
Under the violet hue of evening sky
Haloed by evening's golden moon
I watched gypsies dance and sing
As flames from bonfires leaped high in the air
Dark haired women in shawls and beads
Happily dancing and twirling without care
Casting their spells of magic and enchantment
Performing their honeyed seductions
Blended with aphrodisiacs of scent and sound
Gypsy men with kerchiefs around their necks
Hoops of silver adorning their ears, singing joyful songs
Children laughing, dogs barking
As if they’re singing right along
Oh, I so wanted to join them as I stood watching in awe
Envious was I of their freedom and joy
Caravans painted in bright images and colors
Tambourines jingling as velvet shadows danced in the night
Skirts swirling, gold and silver bangles on their arms
Dancing 'round the bonfire's fiery light
Accordions singing, with happy notes from a fiddler's bow
As they sang and danced barefoot under evening moon
In the coming dawn once again...
It will be time for them to pack and move on
With a last meal served...
The caravans are readied to make another journey long
"Gather yourself up gypsy girls
Wonderful as it may seem…
A gypsies’ life is never their own
Time to move on
Time to find another home
You must have gypsy blood
In order to survive"
As their wagons move along dusty trails
They'll be looking for a place to camp
A place to call home... at least for awhile
A place to hang their colored paper lamps
Until...
Suddenly- a cry rings out
"Stop the wagons, ring the bells
We've found the perfect place
The perfect place for magic spells
Tomorrow brings a brand new day!
Let's feast, dance and make merry
Come on let's get things underway"
And so...
The journey goes on
And never ends!
"Gather yourself up gypsy girls
Wonderful as it may seem…
A gypsies’ life is never their own
Time to move on, time to leave
Time to find another home
You must have gypsy blood
In order to survive"
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
# *written in collaboration
with Glass Slipper Girl*
Is it ecstasy or agony
How you make me feel
What you do to me
Bliss when I am with you
When you're gone, I'm incomplete
My mind you have infected
Gave you my heart
Which you gladly keep
With just one taste, I was addicted
You fulfilled my every need
Yet, I fear that everything's twisted
It's too late though;
I'm in too deep
I've been robbed; only you I suspected
My mind convicts while my heart sets you free
If common sense is a train
then I missed it
Took a chance, circumstance was defeat
All my plans, with one dance
You dismissed them
Still, these actions I'll always repeat
----------------- -----------------
*Is it fantasy or reality
fleeting feelings defying gravity
what you do to my sanity
bona fide madness
sensuality off the charts
our own poetic sensual Rhapsody
Dizzy dazed lost in your Oasis
chasing your sweet enthralling embraces
**** salacious temptations
seductions of ***** flirtatious
stunning me senseless
leaving this Texas girl breathless
A harden criminal
for “the love” you had become
detained and handcuffed
you had to know I was gonna run
trapping a thief of hearts
just can't be done
escaping your enticing assaults
this prison cell sweetheart
made her jailbreak, the Great Escape
before you knew it
I was already gone
Yet, sometimes
every now and again
with my “Get out of Jail” free card
this fugitive still takes a look back
wishing I hadn't gone so far
jumping that railroad car
running away from those
Train Tracks of Love*
#
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 6:36 PM UTC
The crumbling of paper
The burning of ink
The breaking of hearts
Tear tear tear
That love letter apart
Silence is golden
No word
And no prayer
Tear tear tear
That love letter apart
Don't say it again
And again and again
Its going to wear thin
Don't let them see
The tears on your chin
Tear tear tear
That love letter apart
Before it begins
...
But my hands won't listen
And my heart doesn't mind the breaking
And my soul likes writing
With burning ink best
This love won't crumble
This paper can't tear
I can't stop dreaming
Of what I'm feeling
Every time I put
Pen to paper
To write
That love letter
That no hand or fate
Could
Tear tear tear
Apart
And I just have to say it
From the highest mountain
And deepest seas
From above the clouds
And off the wings of birds
From the songs of heaven
And the seductions of hell
I have to say it again and again
Because its the only
Truth that I have
And truth that I know
I'll say it with my last
Dying breath
And say it again
From my ghostly dust
I'll say it forever
And forevermore
...
I Love You
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
His talk so smooth
His swag so fine
His smile so charming
Something about the way he moves
With one look, he gets all the girls hooked
You'll fall under his spell
But his in love with himself
He believes his magic mike
With a magic stick, and his wish is your command
To him your just a one time thing
He gets his thrills from his casual dates
Tomorrow he'll be out and about
Looking to lure his next victim
So stay away from his serial seductions
This one is a killer
This one is a genie
©Sonia Ettyang
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
Angie Jolie has a look that melts into her perfect ******* as she teases me into a new world of seduction. Her eyes are a map and her lips show me where to land my ship of seductions. I want her seductions and eruptions filled full of love consumptions.
Catching my beer just short of the head I drink in life… I miss the spice, the strife, the things that make me cream I want feelings and meanings filled with streaming beings.
Needing something greasy I feel easy and less enthused across a world of misused and abused people that are trained to enjoy the steeple. Dogma, **** it over and **** your dogma. It’s there for you to be a tool.
I miss the hand-kisses and well-wishes. Love’s seduction filled with reduction to the finest elements spent on sweat and tears of fears and folly. I want your lolly and folly filled with me.
******* crazy, it is me.
Me, **** me. The life I chose is interchangeably symbiotic.
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
I
the corners of a room
where walls shake hands
paints meet but never bleed
or stretch across the angles in uniformity
illusions that my palms see through
as they move to flatten the creases
making little triangles between them and the cobwebs’ Eden
like unfolding my bed on the couch
the only comforter here after the lamps say Goodnight
before I tuck them in
and the colours give in
blend
II
my makeshift mattress made specifically
measured feet to face ashamed in wake
protruding shoulders sanded at the edges
obtusely protracting the day into a never-planned night shift
midnights
where the hard-numbers and for-sures fall for the vicious
vacuum’s seductions
a Succubus, is the lady moon
for a mind weary and wary of
absolutes
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
She Wants
Scarlet cheek
Drenched in heavy breath
Praying to a god of lightning within skin
We sin electric
Along the pulse of thunder
That pounds along the prism of rib cage
As an empty echo waiting to be filled
We reduce the night in hidden instincts
Back down to darkness
Kissed in candle flame
So desperately close to being blown out
That we have already settled into gloom
Sightless in the slap of touch
The weight of wait
Tension in tendons
Curled toes and closed eyes
Fearlessly peeking
To drown in the bounty of hair
That hangs heavenly
Like a blindfold
Lost in the black sea of pupil
A lack of breath
In lip bitten lungs
We surrender to a pillow case prison
Bed sheet asylum
Deemed insane
We play straight jacket
Handcuff confessions
Shrink our skin
Closer to a clothing called sanity
Admit to the sweet seductions
Of tounge **** swallow lip
Quiver to bow
Notch arrow
Draw steady down
Hold
Hold
Tremble
Release
To bask in the wisdom
Of hip slips singing
Dipping witness to testify
In the court-ship of submission
A contained chaos
Contested as corruption
But our bodies speak universal
In a language of moans and mantas
Sung out over the churning bass beat
Of heart thumps that resonate
In the taught syllables of beau-ty
Caged between skin and its slap
We are powerless in the presence of passion
And position our bodies in sculptures of sweat
A natural occurrence
A midnight madness
Where we shed this skin
And let our bones scrape
Till our skeletons knock the nails outa this casket
Resurrected we wake as infidels
And follow our echoes
To the origin of our conversions
A little death
A simple attraction
Tension
And release
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
*Silent Killer,
A Predator’s Smile,
A Guise Engulfed In Disguise,
A Child of Immaculate Torment,
Her Diamond Lies, Insidiously Advent.
Lost In Her Radiations,
Trapped In Her Demented Seductions,
Fenced By Her Hype,
Immersed In Her Gripe.
As The Clicker Goes Down,
The Ideals Start To Facedown,
As I Cauterize In Her Suicides,
Ashes Divide,
Weeping For Absolution,
Filled With Consternation,
Her Angel Eye’s Smirk, As I Charred Alive,
Screams Slowly Vanishing In Void,
Devoid Dismantled,
Lured By Her Lust,
Transcending To Dust....
- 03:07AM*
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
when i met you
you were at the hands of ghouls
a gimping coterie of Satan's
who pleasured at the torments they inflicted upon your innocents
who bound your feet
bones in a vice
making you
their Chinese fantasy
a delicate *** trinket
a manacled smooth petite beauty
in agony
bending you into twisted branches
those heartless devils,
drinking red ice cocktails
you put your heel on their throats
by craving death
that will teach them!
gloating at your fear
filling their emptiness
with your trembling
your dreams faded
into the body of a wounded kitten
has God
given us the cold shoulder?
hacked angels wings to stumps
and left the doors to hell wide
leaving your soul a torn crag flaming?
little girl on fire
screaming in the cave of self
would he weep at your alter
and kiss your scarred tissue
begging your forgiveness
lamenting his snide toys of fate
sweet cursed apples
and sly snakes
twisting raptured seductions
your life, cross and curse
a burnt offering
a blood light blinking
with no fire escape
oh
Eve
blamed by the idiots of religion
for everything
only a child
who sank her pink mouth into a serrated moon
now always weighing death
bathtub ****** red ribbon glamour
dreaming paraphilias tide
eyes a ghastly vacancy
floating like a feather
mud,
tabernacles grave
a buoyant shell
sinking
in crimson clouds
a smiling dread
what does it take
for God to redeem himself?
must we storm paradise
before he fills you
with perfumes bliss
and effulgent lights embrace pours through your soul
like lanterns rose sky?
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
It's the unlocking of a heavy door,
To a past that is long dead;
The dead thump of a dropping heart,
The cold of an empty bed.
The slides and glides of cello strings,
That linger in the dark-
A shadow of a stolen kiss,
That has forever left its mark.
Those empty nights that sat draped in darkness,
Spent listening to the rain;
Cold and crying for hollow want,
Watching the sun die over and over again.
The cold of your fingers on the nape of my neck,
Salty waves dying on the shore;
Chapped lips left half-parted,
"I can't do this anymore."
Crusty edged, picture perfect,
Skies that left me broken hearted;
sun kissed skin and star lit eyes,
Wishing you had never started.
A familiar voice you thought you'd forgotten,
the missing harmony of an old song;
The acid that drips deep inside
When you realize you were wrong.
The leaks of honey on your chin,
The end of something good;
It's the guilty pleasure in midst of the pain
Of a sin you never should.
The words you never really meant,
Lay sweet, savoured, spent.
All you heart weighed in gold,
The dying breath of stories never told.
Whispered seductions calling out,
Begging you to close your eyes-
Unclench, exhale, surrender fast;
Release and say goodbye.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 11:27 AM UTC
The fantasies of love; I fancy myself
a glove— holding onto old befores, and
wearing out the test of time
A girl I would proudly call mine
Bribe my way into making a memory my bride; two
seductions of the tied ties, sleeping together at the odds night
And to wake up with a reasonable excuse to be tired
But I've tried to be like a peck of flightless birds—
no reason to fly south like the rest. As I encouraged
her to rest under my wing, upon my smothered talk in
her *******
Two crushing walls on my face in between thighs,
and her ****** being a tall tower close to rise
But I despise the extra seconds it takes to build up
her high. And why like vampires **** is because
they don't use much of their tongue
But by the batting of her eyes, she is close to come,
to a point of returning a tip of this favourable fun
Sep 26, 2022
Sep 26, 2022 at 2:05 PM UTC
We are the bearded men in union halls
grown tired of the world as it seems.
Until our demands are met,
there can be no more search for truth.
We’ve grown tired of the world as it seems
from folding chairs in union halls.
There will be no search for truth—
we’ll gaze at our navels and curse.
From folding chairs in union halls
we shall pontificate our malcontent.
We shall gaze at our navels and curse
these indelible holes in the Real.
We shall pontificate our malcontent
at the crack in the wood-paneled wall
that indelible hole in the Real—
it must be filled!
The electric moon in the wall
streams in seductions of blue shadows.
It must be filled!
we cry.
The seductions of electric moonlight
make thinking difficult.
We cry,
but the tears only make un-forgetting harder.
Thinking has become more difficult
with each failed arbitration.
Un-forgetting’s so much harder
when forgetting pays the bills.
All arbitration has failed and
our demands remain unmet.
So long as forgetting pays the bills,
we shall be the tired beards in union halls.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC