"sinfully" poems
A beauty you are out and within
Insatiable desire to write poetry on your skin
Your body my canvas feel my gentle brush
Writing ******* with my ****** touch
Cinnamon lips I love your tone
Soft and silky to the bone
Finding words..be my guide
As we connect I come inside
Filling each other..there's no strain
Steady my thoughts I must maintain
Watching my penmanship using a steady stroke
I start hallucinating from my mental smoke
Sends me into a frenzied flow
I'll find my pace..go on a roll
My words soak in as you taste
My emotions invade your inner space
Down from your toes..Up to your eyes
Writing Haikus between your thighs
Poetry on your body every inch
You start writhing from my Scorpion pinch
Sinfully venomous my words forever sink
Into your skin my poetic tattoo ink
As you lay naked I visually feast
Every line of your body a masterpiece..
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
Please don’t ****** me please..
Its leading me slowly to..
endless insatiable
blinding me sweetly
***** fall
sinfully stunned
--for my fall is your fall
Please don’t ****** me..Please don't ****** me..
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
My cravings
Drenched
Seeking deeper taste
Of you
Insatiable desire
At the centre
Of my heart
To write poetry
On your chiseled body
Your moans
Send me on frenzied flow
Sinfully voracious
Visually I feast
Your naked hide
Every curve of your body
Purest form of masterpiece
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
**Here I lie wide awake,
thoughts pouring through my mind.
How sweet the touch your body,
when craving after mine.**
*Playful eyes and dancing toes,
wrestling to shed our clothes.
You bite my neck and I taste yours,
we slowly kiss, our tongues explore.*
**I toss and turn, try to ignore,
these visions now vibrate my core,
the chance I'd take if you were near,
to breathe you in as though you're here.**
*Lips running down your heartfelt chest,
caressing them along your breast,
excitfull moans begin to flow,
the further down I go below.*
*With grace I trace, my love expands,
this sanctioned sin, no reprimands.
You feel me now, passions run deep,
quietly your sounds they speak,
and as they do,
I follow through,
through the depths of reaching you.*
*As inner thighs,
quiver and quake,
salty sweet your taste I take,
your fingers running through my hair,
you pace my face,
and steady,
there!
You groan in ecstasy,
your love receives the best of me.
I slowly give my all to you,
with rhythm we begin to move,
clasping our hands, you sway your hips,
you raise them up, as we eclipse.*
**It echos through these deep elations,
driving in intense sensations.**
*Entangled we begin to dance,
form beads of tropical romance.
You rain on me, and I on you,
our bodies moist like sultry dew.*
**Tell me now, where have I gone,
this feels like some celestial bond.
I'm but alone, in my own bed,
yet here you are inside my head.**
*Joining rapid beating hearts,
pulsating through our tender parts.
Increasingly your warm breath's felt,
together we begin to melt...*
**I must expel this lustrous notion,
to sinfully vow my devotion.
How can it be, to have not met,
yet yarn for you, without regret.**
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
*Do you ever feel like dying?
Not sinfully, I swear.
No suicide involved in this,
but life you cannot bear.
Do you ever feel like letting go?
Traveling to God.
Just leaving everything behind,
though nothing's even wrong.
My mom calls me an old soul,
I see through different eyes.
Sometimes I just feel tired,
and think that I must die.
For how will I get through every trivial day?
When I've been here before,
and everything's the same.
Don't get me wrong,
I have so many moments that I love.
I have a best friend,
could I watch her from above?
It's not that I'm sad,
that I'm depressed or anything.
Sometimes I just want to go home.
I want to get my wings.
Sometimes I have a feeling,
that maybe I'll die young.
But don't be sad if I'm gone when my life has just begun.
It's not like this is my first time,
I've been here before.
I'll stay here for a little while,
but prepare for me to soar.*
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
Waiting for him,
Was like a,
Mindless abyss.
I thought,
This time I should give it a shot.
Add plus venture,
Into a realm full with pleasures of flesh.
Rather waiting to lie in sepulcher.
Thence came the wooers,
On horses, chariots, planes and cars,
Courted me to the foreign lands of brand new emotions.
Greasy, exotic, curious and even obscure ,
To satiate my hunger,
They poured,
And I sinfully devoured.
Ooooh!
A whip here.
Ouuch!
A tickle there.
Aahhhhh!!
The sheer unfolding of their classy work.
Every night lusciously they came,
Wrapped me in an awe of satire, skepticism and imagination,
Not to say of the bruises they gave,
Tears I shed of Anger,Pain ,Love and Hate.
Still I followed them blindly and agape,
Because a new world in me was taking shape.
Of Shakespeare, Freud, Tolstoy, Eliot, Byron, Wordsworth and my then fav,
the great Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
A medley of fantasy, fact-fiction, comedy, realism and romance.
Oh!
What not I chanced upon.
All emphasizing emotion, imagination, scientific and natural thought.
There was no stopping of these gnawing hunger pangs,
None lasted more than a one night stand.
The foolish me, unaware, cascaded in the fatal encounters,
Not knowing the pangs are of soul to reach the supreme ******
Thence came a Seer
The Prophet,
The Wanderer,
The Forerunner,
It was as if he can rip me with his thoughts,
And see my soul through that tear…..
I distinctly remember that divine night,
The moment I held him in my desirous hands,
I was no more in dual fight.
Things started falling into place,
Was no more in that abysmal space.
Still I would say,
It’s a current phase.
This soon would also evade.
New Lover ,
For every new night…
To cut a long story short,
Just so,
Because of your low attention span,
The lover, the poet , the wooer
Was the great
Khalil Gibran.
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
Sinful bliss on an endless kiss
Ideal kiss on a sinful bliss
Now kiss me sinfully
Feel my sinful bliss
Unwind my sinful heart’s kiss
Lull me to my true heart’s bliss
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
The cretens slipping through the trees
Nooses wound tight for the hangmans head
The angels weep n **** their guns
Fire charring the vocal strings of the innocent
Comparing battle scars to shooting stars
Its all in desperate wishing
Desire for their fallen deeds
Dragging steel shovels at their heels
Claiming bragging rights for dead dreams
Slow destruction of the spider webs
A delicately demolished reality
Those trapped at hells gates are singing sinfully.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
aimless caresses possess
a puissance, carelessly
purposeful, impossibly
sensual, seducing with
mercilessly sharpened
incessant desires,
releasing passionate
hisses of suspended
breaths, sweetness
of whispers, softness
of kisses slipping their
passage past *******
solar plexus,
slowly, slowly
submerging
to sunder her
senseless with
soul-shaking
consummating
surcease.
Apr 4, 2011
Apr 4, 2011 at 6:31 PM UTC
I bought a real nutcracker today.
A fine shiny black truly cool looking one!
Each crack compliments to a dandy vintage lad's imaginary home TV shopper Ad.
Saying‘It's guaranteed! Hundred percent of mechanosensory reception!’
I try to convince myself between time stretching
‘Yes or No’s and ‘Just use stones’
‘Come on you've deserved it!’
‘Why bother?’
You have been craving for each
Tried and tested any,
same as so many
even from a hard peach.
So why not!? Keep it! – as if a testimony, from tough to juicy mimicking fruity blending **** seduced by crunchy mouth twisting *****
Digested from special yearly events to monthly justifications then weekly to daily and surprisingly after dinner, before breakfast, as brunch or even a whole meal sometimes.
You gnaw like a small rodent layer by layer cute but so tight although he says that’s alright.
Dashing trunks as if a woodpecker,
Stealing home reserved only-for-the-pet’s crumbs and
Finally receiving next day’s well deserved belly cramps.
Come on you almost broke your teeth during your worldwide exploring different types of shell husking trip.
Feel blessed now one time for goddess’ sake that she winks and tweaks my lips while it creaks, festively announces your recent find that nuts you shall eat raw only - neither baked nor from a sinfully roasted ready packed plastic bag.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
Sad, mooning morning
Lost beasts and time
Disgust for machine lust overwhelming
It's not that I don't love you
That you don't love me enough
To sinfully and wantonly **** me
After all it's my birthday
Cause I'm old and you've lost interest
in being the man I loved
That's why our children tricked you
into writing and sending your confession
Stand up and take a bow
we learned your lessons well
who to trust, how to trust, and when
Turned us kids into your spies,
your lies, your alibis
to get us to create the software to do it
So you could **** your mystic **** genie
please know our kindness as hatred
All access passes to dumb *********
This memeallscene is a gallery crawl,
a gallow's walk of perps,
who should have known better
Just a thanks for clogging
the artists' ether with kiddy ****
much love for Kate Torn
we used your magick
to put us back together
Your address is on the ticket,
the reddress that you bought her.
Tap lightly, tap lively not,
the tuoche of Jack Frost is upon you.
All the best and much kindness.
Perfection is a trick of the mind.
This poem will change and tighten
the ties that bind us together
From the women and men of Bandahache.
for the women who sign away the right
to tell their stories
I hear you Anita Hill
But we've been stalked and stifled long enough
Yes, that's what prayer can do
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
She plays violin on her wrists
Sinfully beautiful symphonies appear on her skin
Like paper sheets her blood will flow
With eyes determined on the price
She watches the last bit of her soul seep out of her wounds
A lonely sound escapes her lips
The last lonely sound she'll ever make
Now she's in a different place
And replaced the violin for clouds
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 4:03 PM UTC
I cried because I just wanted to share it with you,
The way that you share things with me.
I never complain to you because you're my sweet.
But while I was sharing my happiness with you,
you were whining.
The exact same way that you whined when I was honest.
I was honest in saying I did not want to sleep with you anymore,
but I guess that doesn't matter.
I cried because you don't talk.
You don't talk unless it is about guns, trucks or ***
I wish you could speak to me with sweet gentleness
Of things that mean everything but mean nothing.
I want you to be smart.
I want you to be thoughtful.
I want you to be a romantic.
I want you to sing me a sinfully sweet lullaby.
I cry,
because I want to be blissfully happy.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
Resurrected, I arose
for mornings thick with lust
and love and caffeine and naked kisses
And again, when night came
I did too, and fell sweetly, sinfully
prey to the small death
ushered in with a grand symphony
of your name
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 5:50 AM UTC
You'd make a really nice submissive.
Oh, I can only imagine. You being blind folded & tied up. Thoroughly depending on your senses to guide you.
To calm you.
As a feeling of adventure and potential danger lurks inside of you. You feel sinfully tempted. You feel bad.
You want to taste blood.
But you'd be willing to give into it. No?
Let yourself be dominated.
For the night. For the other. For oneself. For the moment. For the sin.
Think.
Not knowing where he would touch you.
What part of you will be blessed first?
Where would he settle and take refuge?
And until so you would eagerly wait for his gentle, soft and devilish touch upon your skin to devour you.
You would wait. Wouldn't you?
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
do you move through colors and shapes, and do you pass through entities unknown.
red, the color of blushing cheeks after flattery my body cannot control.
purple, the color of bruises painted sinfully upon skin, galaxies of broken vessels.
blue, the color of your eyes shaded by tie-dyed greens and yellows welcoming into the arms of your embrace.
black, the color of dark night skies spent silent among a lit herb.
pink, the color of full lips crowding visions of lust and love.
yellow, the color of sunbeams bursting through tree branches coming across your freckled cheeks.
rays of spectrum, shared glances and hope.
laughter and hushed voices through melodies of favorite bands.
overlooked conversations, and dimly lit rooms with stolen kisses and clothes shaven.
scents, as intoxicating as the peppermint melting my brain into pools of mush, due to the musk of your t-shirt hanging around my fragile bones.
whispers of good nights and murmurs of good mornings.
can this only be the beginning of such things?
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
baby i'm your poison
and you're my antidote
a taste almost divine
sinfully saccharine sweet
raise me from perdition
with your heavenly lips
kiss me til there’s nothing left
but marks blossoming red
let's let go for a while
don't be shy and come closer
i promise i won't bite
but i'd love it if you did
darling just wait and see
we were made for each other
i'd love to see how well
those hands fit around my neck
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 9:47 PM UTC
When you see her
walking down the street,
swaying those wide luscious hips,
you just know.
This girl
with her long cherry curls
and her icy blue eyes,
she’s the beauty and the beast all in one
sinfully delicious package.
This girl makes your heart
crash into your ribcage like a wrecking ball,
stopping you in your tracks
and stealing your breath away
like the succubus she knows she is.
This girl with full pink lips,
skin smooth as white marble,
and a stare that could paralyze and excite
all at the same time.
This girl promises beauty
but baby you’re gonna get
a lot more than you bargained for
if you try to cross this demoness.
This girl is your gorgeous nightmare,
horror wrapped up in a **** package
with a shiny red bow and stiletto heels.
With those curves in your hands,
thinking is out of the question.
There’s only passion, blind lust,
because if you let her go then
you seriously ****** up.
She’s everything you could ever want,
Begging and demanding
As she writhes underneath you and on top of you.
You never stood a chance.
This girl is a living breathing Greek goddess,
all *** and power and unimaginable beauty.
I cannot being to truly describe her,
Because as much as I hate to admit it,
She doesn’t exist.
She is mine,
my creation, my Eve.
Existing only in my fiction,
She is still very real to me.
She lives inside of me,
Breathing and speaking and loving and hating
And I just want to hold her close and keep her with me forever.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 1:10 PM UTC
Sliding from the silky, satin sheets
Slowly she saunters to the terrace
And scans the sparkling, star-sprinkled sky
As slender arms loosely clasp her svelte, ******** swathed silhouette
So too her thoughts encircle her sweetheart
She smiles as she recalls their tryst...
*His strong embrace holding her safe and secure
Lips that tease with nearness
At last bestowing passion-soaked kisses
Whilst hands slide up to her soft, supple breast
And trace circles around her sensitive, cerise *******
She is lost now
Caught in the exquisite snare of sinfully-sweet reminiscences
Of two lovers seeking to please
And thirsting to be satisfied...
*Slow, tantalizing caresses gracefully ****** their souls
Hearts, minds and bodies of two lovers now aroused
Suspended over the precipice
Oh, yes, such blissful anticipation
And then … surrender
Surrender to sweet, sweet ecstasy!*
As she stands now on the circumference of sensual abyss
She sways slightly
A soft breeze strokes her sun-kissed skin
It whispers to her spirit and begins to sing a song
A song so enticing
So stirring
That small goosebumps rise and glisten
So once more she slips betwixt silky, satin sheets
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 9:21 PM UTC
There is no fantastical world in which civility between us can exist. Civility, of course, being perceived in the sense that we can coexist pleasantly, without a romance topped with jaded raspberries and peppermint liqueur.
After a generous amount of sneezing and crawling and crying in the moonlight with half embered cigarettes hanging from our dripping mouths, I saw this. A grievous vision of Hank Stamper clawing at my back end, a still-life embedded someplace dark and dank, a cradle so forgotten and filthy that only a mother woven from dirt-covered cloth could love it. We built some ridiculous, disgusting house and made love in it. Day in, day out.
In the end our urinary tract infections infected our kidneys and became fatal when paired with the dysentery. I will always remember your name paired with dysentery, my love.
I promised myself endlessly that I was laying in such a softer settlement without you. Your reckless lifestyle was grimier than mine and our paths collided and collapsed with validity, I was sure of that. I am sure of that. However, it seems my insistence that I recover from you, brings with it some kind of ****** up honor to be dealt your way. Should I write a song about you? No, I'd soon hear it in your trapeze act. Should I make a film about you? No, the lead would be sinfully attractive and further engorge your rather large head. Should I write a book about you? Should I? Have I? Can I? I doubt you would see the honor here. In fact, if you were to look for anything other than consistent misuses of punctuation in my writing, I feel sure you would find solace and comfort and silence would soon follow.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
we started out in a
in a parking lot
with no shopping cart
look at us now
appeal to her desperation
for a moment in her sunshine's bravado
she dose not think beyond the moment despite my effort
i drink her in
and she is such sweet nectar
it is thinly disguised that she is no
snowbunny as she pulls herself from my bed
her deep rich tan only flavours my desires
as i pull her back in
her thick musky taste so intoxicating
flawless in her unique beauties
we lounge in the sun's dying breath
and quietly marvel at the skyscape of colours
she places casual hand on my arm
and i catch breath
isn't to be read into
but see that allure inspite
and with that desire lingering plunge slowly back
into her subtle skin
into the long sweet night of her lips
once again i float the rational
shes as smart as sinfully beautiful
but with a quickness
towers of the absurd fall under pretender's preface
she entangles me with the most sinister of **** laughs
and we spend the night deep in eachother again
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Your lovely face
yielding my mirror;
two bluish eyes,
Waiting for my kiss
Your elegant neck,
framed within soft hair.
Your unpainted lips,
responsive to my breathe
You’re bursting *******
sinfully for an embrace
each ****** thirsting
to my loving touch.
By Williamsji Maveli
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
www.microthemes.com
www.mavelinadu.com
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 8:31 AM UTC
My spirit wants to do right, but the flesh is unwilling to comply. That's why it must die. Daily. Crucified. All the affections and lusts, crushed with the weight of his Spirit hear to comfort mine own until this mind disownes every thought that exalts itself against the one on the Throne. Adonai, El Shaddai, Elohim, thou most High, Prince of peace, never cease, to amaze, the Blood connected to the earth and awoke men out of graves/I refuse to be sinfully enslaved, hiding in dens and cavs like the ones his goodness tried to save...I understand you Paul, you did what you didn't want to and didn't do what you should have did, yet the Master forgives. I wanna live burden free, no hurt in me, I don't want to subconsciously hold on to the flair of dramatics, rejecting a life lived peacefully while repetitious requests prayed vainfully asking God to take the pain away yet rejecting his orders so the pain can stay. In a twisted way, some people depend on there own misery, no matter how much they complain about it. Because its either what they know best or all they know, and familiarity can be a mental, emotional and spiritual ******* that most...can't let go...well Lord im willing. I'm willing to let go of the past that you already have a long time ago. I'm willing to see myself through your eyes. I'm willing to allow you to turn this anger into joy, this easy irritability into long suffering, this pride into honor, false humility into the one we clothe in..im willing to allow all the pain the sting of rejection gave me over the years, to place shamelessly in your healing hands, im willing to give you the violin, that I've used to play the songs for every pity party thrown within, Upon personal request, while partly oblivious, to the world around me is dying in sin. Lord, continue to help me locate the man I was always suppose to be. Reveal him to me. Describe him to me. Develop me into him. He's been waiting for my embrace for too long. And I'm ready..to put away Childish things..
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC