"seductress" poems
.
1
death dirges
Frogs in distance sing . . .
Foxes, herons, join in too,
. . . A round of croaking.
2
love gifts
Her gift of flowers . . .
Came at night without garden,
. . . Were picked in bedroom.
3
twins demure
Full moon and she . . .
Beauties without crescent smile,
. . . Naked in starlight.
4
light music
Before even sun . . .
Gleam opens to paint each day,
. . . Beauty in birdsong.
5
iridescent
After sun showers . . .
Sparkle of rainbow colours,
. . . Busy hummingbirds
6
chilling
Hollow sound through trees,
Naked and bare branches sway,
. . . Old winter creeping.
7
flirting
She wanted a child . . .
Rushed from one suitor to next,
. . . Clock set to maybe.
8
super villain
Truth once singular . . .
Mucked all up with politics,
. . . In cowl of falsehoods.
9
casualties
Blood spills in gardens . . .
Naïve worms torn from loose grounds,
. . . Red robins, green lawns.
10
stigmata
Each spring miracle . . .
Trees blessed by caterpillars gifts,
. . . Holey hands of leaves.
11
consecrations
Ripples lead to bows . . .
After fish breaks the water,
. . . A kingfisher dives.
12
constancy
Steadfast as always . . .
Wildflower in sun and rain,
. . . Showing true colours.
13
roommates
Chaste lovers wonder . . .
How bodies weather the cold,
. . . Never knowing touch.
14
swept away
Suddenly we kissed . . .
At beach as tides rolling in,
. . . Drowning by ocean.
15
seductress
Her red hair so long . . .
Brushing my face, hiding eyes,
. . . A kind entrapment.
.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
From a distance,
the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
she is all evil and dark, one would think,
the overcast sky her sinister cloak.
But intruder under my umbrella, she is playful,
I watch this coy maiden, I desired from afar,
now she walks with me step to matching step,
tries to entice me with her soft tunes,
tender cool fingers, rubbing my cheeks,
her lover's touch unmistakable, passionate, eager
I shiver, she wants me to get in to her arms, cuddle.
I throw away my umbrella,
in boyish rumbunctiousness, run to her
her hands moving fast tickle me, pinch
then a sudden embrace, making me squirm
with deep pleasure I dreamt in wakeful nights.
The joy of life that the water and receptive earth evoke,
loud green glee around, in me creates goosebumps,
in my dreams she comes to me
and tells the secrets of
nights I long for my love and me alone.
Rain, the seductress, taught me
the passions of living and loving
she, awakened the spirit that seeps deep in to the
core of my being.
**When I lay awake in monsoon nights,
across my window she tangoes
in fierce passion with the wind,
that keeps me excited till I get absorbed
in to a dream that has love as its theme.**
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Love is a thousand women who fail to amount to one,
Peasant seductress with bared shoulders of red dun-colored roads and candle smoke,
Who pours down her wet, ungoverned hair, like a fast-fading storm to dry over Aurelian walls,
In that dark sneer of sultriness over the sentry-like stillness of ramparts and stone,
A wasp in water whose sibilance comes from what the sting makes,
Like the upgathered phalanx of spears in the sand,
Or the sisters of fate who have coiled their hair as sunset snakes,
Her fingertips ***** into me like much-traveled and ancient rain.
Apr 23, 2023
Apr 23, 2023 at 11:03 PM UTC
Animals have an intuition about danger. Men have “gut feelings.” I should have listened to mine. The first time I saw her, I knew she was dangerous. I could feel it, and it excited me. She was a predator, a tigress, a seductress on the hunt, a wild, untamable savage woman who destroyed men. She would destroy me. I saw it in her eyes the first time I saw her. She was walking by with her girlfriends, laughing and giggling. She looked up, caught my gaze, and my world suddenly froze. A thousand feelings were expressed in the blink of her eyes. She told me I was prey. She told me I would die. She smiled, releasing my gaze. My world rushed back into focus with the abrupt harshness of a slap in the face. I was sweating. I was afraid. I was excited as I watched her disappear into the crowd. That was the first time I saw her. How could I forget.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
She reveled above the film
of Central Park sun-rays
Angel of granite,
seductress
of seagulls
Perched above her iconic
feathered fingers
Angel of granite,
enchanter of flocks
of well traveled bodies
flecked with salty sea crystals
Angel of granite,
fountain May
Cascades dancing diamonds
from her feet
Posing for pictures,
frozen in heat
of
Summertime sailboat
breeze
Angel of granite, goddess of
brittle bird bones
wading in
chlorine puddles of tears
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
#
Insane, jealous wives..
controlling ones
They are everywhere
*or at least they are,
with the men she knows..*
So she comforts them
in their affliction,
in a cherub-like way--
these poor men,
with their insane,
controlling girlfriends and
wives--
crazy, jealous women
that refuse to allow their men
to talk to her
or be alone in a room, with her
It seems as though
the world is filled with
insane, controlling
jealous women--
at least, in the lives
of the men she knows,
there is.
#
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 1:21 PM UTC
sugar is how we got here
sprinkled on things
that were once plain
and thus made
so much sweeter
doused on the
painful qualms
of everyones stupid
life
poured on our
guilty pleasures
that keep us astray
from what we know
but sugar gives us cavities
rots our teeth
rots our soul
rots our world
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
She came like a whisper in the night.
Her voice a tender caress.
How she troubled my senses.
My seductress…
She’s a vision of my wildest dreams,
with her face of an angel
and a body hot, as hell.
My seductress…
She haunts me in my sleepless hours.
Thoughts of her drive me insane.
How I longed to be with her.
My seductress…
Sweet, sweet woman, my greatest sin.
I’m in love with another.
Never shall I desert her.
Farewell… My seductress…
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 3:58 PM UTC
"I love you."
My fingers froze:
dark eyes on a list
as long nails clacked
on gray keys which
stuck with age and use.
I dreamed of love,
sweet hordes of
doves escorting me
to my desire of
love, love, love.
Such dreaming flags
floated in my mind,
wishing to be a hot ***
body made of rag,
a delicious mess
of hearty gags.
I wanted promiscuity,
in all its forms,
shed of all its innuendo
and flimsy disguises.
I wanted hard action,
man on man,
cheap rides and
cheaper thrills.
I wanted to be a little
pornographic princess,
a tiny-dicked seductress,
big ***** conductress
of all his passions.
My flag flew up as a
hormonal reaction,
attraction,
smooth bodied and
tight lipped action
running up and down
my jaded cadaver.
He wanted a **** *****
a promiscuous witch,
casting love spells and
**** glances to make him
itch.
He entered my love nest,
the back seat of a car,
to destroy my frame,
to rid me of my childishness.
My folly melted away
in sexyhot sways
of my hips as
my lips would say
lust filled nothings
that would be filled by
empty sighs and
****** filled
"I love you's."
My fingers froze:
as brown turned to white,
my body turned to snow
and rained down around
his swollen flagpole.
He was incompetent,
inept at the deed
and unable to satisfy,
but it was my ego that needed
this gratification, not my
libido.
I laid in the aftermath of the attack,
calm,
demure,
sad but
ultimately relieved
Finally,
I am ravaged.
I have soiled my nation
and salted my own fields,
laying waste to my youth,
my innocence.
I wanted to be conquered
and so did I receive,
being taken and
yet somewhat untaken.
I remember his voice,
that dumb accent.
I remember his preconceptions
of what this was supposed to be.
"I love you."
My fingers froze:
as lungs filled with air,
and brain filled with contempt,
my jaded body grew
to desire--
God, I really wish I had a cigarette.
I remember how he thought
I cared,
how he though that
anybody did.
I remember how,
I thought I had, too.
"I love you."
No, you don't.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:23 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
Lonely are the men I seek
Beneath the seams I make them weak.
They hear me sing from far away,
but I come close
to my dismay.
Water rages all round me
But on the surface is a beautiful sea.
My hair falls upon my naked breast
And the wind is blown to the west.
I trap them in my gaze,
with eyes that send them into a hazy daze.
They begin their descent into my void,
I will become what they need,
an escape from their pathetic realities.
Intoxicated from my facade,
they lean from the ship, hoping to taste ecstasy.
Their eyes meet mine,
and I have fully hypnotized.
One last breath,
And suddenly they see
No longer the reflection of who this seductress could be,
But the siren that drags them to the bottom of the sea.
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 11:37 PM UTC
1
Rain's blue-black cloak, tied with rainbow girdle,
visible over the green hills,across rice fields,
she waves and rushes forward.
From distance, the incessant chant
of South-West monsoon,
sounds like a mature witch practicing her craft.
One would think,she is all evil,dark
the overcast sky her sinister cloak,
But under my umbrella
a coy maiden, i desired from afar,
who walk with me step by matching step
with all the cunning tricks of love
trying to entice me with her soft body's tunes,
her tender cool fingers rubbing my cheeks,
her unmistakable lover's touch eager, transgressing
desirous of getting me in to her arms.
2.
She makes me mad
i throw away my umbrella
in the rambunctiousness of a teenager and run with her,
at once her naughty hands pinch and tickle me
then an intense embrace that makes me shiver
with the deep pleasure, I drempt in wakeful nights,
joy of life that rain tune and smell of damp earth evoke!
The green loud glee in me it creates!
In dreams, rain come to me
and tells me the secrets of night
that I long for my love and me alone.
3
Rain, the seductress who taught me
the secret passions of living and loving,
and the burning sensation, of love
that runs deep in the core of one's being.
When I lay awake, in a monsoon night,
outside my window, she plays tango,
wind holding her by the waist, with fierce passion,
that keeps me awake til,
I get absorbed in a dream
that has passionate love as the under current.
)O(
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
The word slithers from your mouth
Arsenic tone reverberating
Jumping on my eardrums and misting the fleshy insides of my skull
Dearest one, though unbeknownst to such a good intentioned heart
You are killing me
You lather onto her shame like oil
In your eyes she shines; epitome of all that you are not
Elusive seductress, skin tasting of intrigue
Entombment of that which lives in the blackest parts of you
Your brown eyes flashing ivy, becoming venomous,
Teeth sinking slowly with each syllable
****
Dearest deer eyes, open up
She dwells in your recesses but in my repressions as well
She is the 6 year old child emanating innocence
Closing her eyes to the fact that some parts may only be visible in the presence of Mama and Dr. Mallon
Mistaking foul play for dreams
She is the 13 year old not yet skinned of her baby fat
Caressed like the infant she most certainly is not
Lips glued with guilt and naivety
My dear, dear friend, please
You are killing me
The 16 year old girl whimpering no
Pomegranate lips pressed to the underside of Narcissus' hand
The other digging in between quivering thighs
***** you sigh
They're pathetic really
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
I have been to places for love,
Travelling I have been in love,
And learning I have from love.
I went from movies to homes,
To palaces & even to fortresses,
'Atul' learnt to love from travel.
I visited ancient places in love,
The sweet feeling togetherness,
Atypical Life I have lived along.
I used to go to Ambala years ago,
The sweet loving girl used to wait,
Along her I visited movies & kissed.
I went to Jaipur & even Agra next,
The sweetest for us both was Jaipur,
Agra was where I gifted my virginity.
I kissed at the Old Fort at New Delhi,
The kiss at fort gave me goosebumps,
Attic was where the seductress kissed.
I kissed inside her home in the sitting,
That night was dead as she kissed me,
Above the sleeping King was the kiss.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
Ladies, in thier ballgowns wade,
thier masks they have made,
so they wade across the ballroom floor,
for the sign on the,
Big. Brass. Door,
a masquerade, it reads,
A Masquerade.
The men,
ready in blazers and tuxes,
wearing thier masks,
awaiting thier midnight mistress,
thier...sexy seductress.
Then, the man in black and white,
guides his mistress inder the moonlight,
for a dance, perhaps a kiss,
at the stroke of midnight.
At midnight, the clock sounds,
and all you see is the spinning of gown after gown.
Ding. **** Ding. ****
the sound becomes a beat,
ready and awaiting the eager dancers feet.
Ding. **** Ding. ****
the couples dance, but not for long,
for this...
this is the, Last. Song.
Ding. **** Ding. ****
At the end of this song,
the men and women,
reveal themselves, and at long last,
they shed thier masks.
Then the man in black and white,
grasps his ladies hand, and holds it tight,
then he gets down, on his knee,
and her gasp...
brings an end to this story.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
Success ***** as they say,
hellishly. She's a rich little
seductress who's certainly sensational
at blowing a man's brains out.
I know. She had her teeth into me.
I can smile now, but for a while
I couldn't get enough. She was hot stuff,
that ***** goddess, success.
I was a real sucker for her charms
when she came greasing up.
I really got into the groove
when she pulled me off to the gravy train
where we gobbled down every drop.
I tell you, I couldn't stop.
What a succulent princess she is,
that ***** goddess, success.
But after it had all blown over
and she was hanging out with other guys,
I had a few days when my eyes weren't glazed.
Maybe she was a bit of a ***** actually,
always hustling for more.
Attractive to woo, but really, she *******
them, always pushing to score,
that ***** goddess, success.
I met her again the other day,
and she ran her tongue over her lips. Jeez.
I nearly went weak at the knees.
But we're only old friends now,
and I'm over her disease. So I wasn't desperate to please
her. She's such a terrible tease. She wriggled her assets
but I didn't ask her to come again,
that ***** goddess, success.
Mike T Minehan
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 12:56 AM UTC
***** winds scorching through
You've taken a single step, it's already heating up.
An unbound elemental temptress, filled to the brim with confidence....
Overflowing even.
Every man in here wants you; everyone fixated on your body to fulfil their deepest desires and fantasies.
They cavort around you like chimps in heat, just looking for a taste...
They can't afford you, you're not interested in small game.
You lock eyes with him, the only one. He's sitting in the back of the room, not even glancing your way: He'll regret not giving you his attention.
Striving over to the table next to him, you strike fiercely with your most seductive look, the flames of passion rolling off your tongue as you introduce yourself. A casual nod returns your best efforts with crushing force.
You can't believe his audacity, you storm out of the club grabbing the nearest guy available, he'll get lucky tonight.. That'll show him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I see her walk into the club, with an arrogance, she looks stunning, her personality is so unkempt: a source of altercation among the rabble, causing a cacophony wherever she strides.
I'm not here to flirt or pull, I'm here for a night with my friends, I'm here for social interaction; not ****** She has plenty of others to give her attention, mine is not required to complete her night.
After mere moments, I fear she's noticed my lack of interest, and with a twinkle and a flash, she's a table away from me: giving me her most seductive charm. I resist and return to my conversations, lest this burning seductress better my willpower and ****** me like so many other snakes.
A scalding flash in her eyes that heat me to hundreds of degrees, a piercing, penetrating gaze... She huffs and grabs the arm of the nearest man.. He's getting lucky tonight, good for him. I return to my friends with the image of that succubus eternally burned into my mind.
Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 6:18 PM UTC
Your lips
Your eyes
Tell dangerous
sweet lies
to me.
Your *******
Your thighs
Are the places
I fantasize
to be.
Your whispers
drown her cries
As morals
cease
to be.
I give in
Don't realize
I'm your prisoner
And you won't
Set me free.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:28 AM UTC
Shall we drown together in deep lagoons of forensic cognitions, my seductress of medieval echelons?
As your mouth is already full, I strongly recommend that you masticate that which you initially intended to ingest.
We could become spellbound by the moon. What do you think my Vedic chant of austere arrhythmias?
I suggest that we simply need to interact without reserve amidst this toxicity of inhibition. The sound of the violin is hauntingly beautiful as it conveys literary intensity.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
*En route to your heart,
I strayed in to,
the lush garden of your youth,
full of unsullied flowers,
kissed only by mischievous sun.
No man can even, think
of turning his back to this
veritable feast for senses;
it transmitted a vibe resonating,
perfectly with my psyche.
The heady fragrance emanating
from varieties of flowers did speak
of magical pleasures unexplored
I did eagerly heed,
was it by pure chance
or were there plans to allure me in,
I don't even want to know,
it suits well to my desires.
Amorous droning of inebriated bees
rang in my ears,
making me giddy.
Spring time it was
in your budding new garden,
being a pretender
who elicits the best effect
you smartly feigned ignorance
of my presence,
(As you expected, I suppose)
I lost my way and ended up
in the spirited night we shared between us,
harvesting wild fruits with a verve
we had never known before,
pleasures of many seasons
were there in store, I was astonished,
a consummate seductress you were.
a she wolf, under a sheep's skin.
but kind amorita, most adroit.
Could I ever blame you
an iridescent creature, exquisite
oh! the candor that marks your surrender!
Scent of flowers wafting on the wind,
created the effect of rarefied air
my lungs are full to the brim
with your feminine spices.
Does this happy transgression
to your secret scented garden
make me a fallen angel,
or am I a slave of your whims
entrapped for the rest of our lives?
Either way your wile wins
a knight in shining armor or
bereft of it, and naked, for your sake
I willingly submit before
the light that shines in you,
I'd make your garden mine.*
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
Memories of you will never fade, magnificent seductress and my runaway love.
I've been missing your unforgettable kisses and scented skin after perfumed baths.
Glimpse of you at first light of day, I remember sugary sweet nectar of you lips.
soft lips meant for kissing under moon's glow and that beautiful smile and laugh.
I adored making love to you under dark skies lit by friend pale moon's reflections.
Swish of you skirt close to my face, crumpled shirt leaves little to my imagination.
Shoulders half bare, cheeks flushed many shades of red that no crayola can match.
Watching you and loving that look of heat and passion through half closed eyes.
Holding you close and never letting go in dreams that I've had since meeting you.
You stepped off that curb and fell in my arms that was when I knew love Betty.
You were and will always be a fetching temptress!
Ms. Betty Ponder, I can still make you blush.
Saved that crumpled skirt and it's in a safe place
along with all the Artistic Pictures. : )
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Do you perceive the deep crack within the fulcrum of the universe?
Daylight and darkness blend into a hypnagogic and hallucinatory kaleidoscope, where the art of fantasy rises from oceanic depths in the form of a seductress who rides upon the wings of a horned god.
We could even enter into meaningful discourse, as we contemplate psychoactive echelons of spiritual intensity?
Are you hungry?
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC
The seductress has learnt it,
But never has she earned it.
She always lavishly used it,
Pouting it away to ease it.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC