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My eyes are roving, clever and playful
In the tensest moments I don’t lose my cool
From my fingers the bullets fly
I dive deep and jump from the sky.
I do hide behind occasional beard
I want my martinis shaken not stirred
My mantra is only one word ‘win’
The only car I ride is Aston martin.
My name turns my enemies morose
They’re pinned down by my gizmos.
Women just madly fall for me
Clad skimpily in alluring bikini
Chiseled figures slim and tall
I choose the good but go for all.
I am pressed for time so much
I can’t do without my omega watch
Though I’m not stuck in a brand or two
Rolex and Seikos will also do.
I feel instead of lengthening the list
It’s time for me to clear up the mist
A suave smart and fearless guy
I also happen to be a timeless spy.
I play with the villains dangerous games
Love to be called Bond without James
With me the baddies can never get even
You know the world knows me by 007.
K Balachandran Jul 2013
If he lacked polish and was avaricious without any limit,
he could have taken her  by force and justified that she provoked,
knowing from each move she made,
she was teasing him, and taking it to the extreme,
he may have gone over to the top, any moment.

They stayed in two rooms adjacent
in that backwater resort, a breath taking delight,
in the mornings she paraded
in front of his room, skimpily dressed,
as he came out, her beauty seemed to overflow
from bra top and she encouraged him in many ways
by suggesting many possibilities of pleasure.

A waiter comes and knocks at  his door
he gets a complimentary drink, his favorite
courtesy to her(obviously she has made meticulous research)
along with shrimps and clams cooked in olive oil.
When he came out for an evening stroll,
at the far end of the compound, in the shallow part of the lake,
she was taking bath, with an exhibitionist flourish
when he smiled at her visibly timid, she amorously pursed her lips,
she was in an adventurous mood, like nature at the time of bloom.

"Seen your paintings, loved those sensual nudes
reminds me more of myself, in front of a mirror,
obviously they are all seekers of pleasure, I am sure.
I am a singer, they say my voice seduces, all
you to me do the same when I see you as the painter,
in flesh and blood" she paused for a  breath.

"If I lacked polish, my paintings wouldn't have the magic,
you speak about; it's not deliberately created, that's impossible.
It's pure poetry, that oozes by itself, a blessing I earned.
There is no wanton desire here. Magic of the sensual
is charged in the atmosphere.I feel it all the time,
be it morning, evening or night,
the possibilities of pleasure is limitless.
Express the best way one deems fit, be liberated."
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
An elderly priest
sits on the dilapidated
stair to his hovel

Contemplating once again
the stinger he delivered
in his Sunday sermon.

An attempt to strike a note
of serious consideration of
the consequences
of sinning to his
congregation.

And yet, as he leans with
his gnarled hands upon his
walking stick,

He can not help but
smile at the wicked joy
he witnesses as a

Drunken Santa Claus and
a skimpily clad *******
weave their way past
him down the
cobbled lane.
Words given: Stinger. Santa Claus. *******. Priest. Gnarled. Delapidated.

Thank you, Sir Frank. :)
Skimpily clad girls caressing giant slabs of meat....
oh the ****** innuendos......
xavier williams Feb 2013
Hello Mr. Teddy with eyes all sunken and dim,
What horrors you must have seen,
So why do you grin?
I know I'm not perfect, but I really feel bad,
For seeing you atop a wardrobe,
And so skimpily clad.
I promise one day I'll give you all that is due,
For such a faithful little teddy bear,
Who's so Huggable,

Lovable,

Fluffy,

and Cute.
Just a quick poem. I may be 21 but I still have a heart!!!
Kìùra Kabiri Mar 2017
Dens, devils dark alleys
Apart from the quiet disco beats
The house-techno-electronics melodic
Or timbres of the naughty riddims rhythmic
And the dim coloured alternating disco-lights
Else, Dens are blurry dark
With all addicts-of ***, narcos or gins

In there no one sees no one
Just the silent talks of sins around
The usual businesses brought them there
In the mixture of multicoloured lights
So no one will talk of anyone once lights returns
Yet they shared something in common
A gal maybe, a cocoa puff or a shisha vapour!
A cigar smoke or a ***** tot and danced it ***** to dawn

In there are naked nudes-
Dames as well as few muscled-dudes
Teasing silent seated decent dressed
Stripping, selling their worth or wealth
To these willingly seriously immerged
In the occults of the immoral ****

Some are seductively rolling with the podium poles
Their greased groins incised on it metallic luster
Grating-grinding-dancing dirtily down
Its silvery smoothness in timed tempting
Slow spicy synchronic, slutty slides  
Watching the salivating seated
Erotically elated shift in their chairs

Some, skimpily skinned are snaking their boneless bodies up-down
In caressing zigzags of mastered dancers ***** arts
Immorally exposing their mostly expensive parts in bits
To tempt and trap these blind corrupted moths in their Lucifer’s lights
Forcing them to dig deeper their posh pockets to pay to be bemused  

Business here is crooked, dark!
Like ***** and her Gomorrah
Or Tyre and her Sidon
It begins with the fall of the night:
The extinguishing of the day's light
And ends with moments to dawn’s bright

In there all night are all dealers of immoralities
Of dark arts, of *** or of drugs  
Goons as well as criminals of government deals
And the corrupt business billionaires sandwiched
Richly enjoying the **** of the sinfulness-
Sharing, wasting, the rapacious richness
Of their easily gained supernormal profits
On these salacious naked nudes, free to feel

In there in the masquerade of these rainbow lights
No one sees no one, no one will say of anyone
Just cash exchanges hands
You got it, you get what you need
All the services you want-its all at your watch
With just a snap of the finger, all easily you acquire
You are the master, everyone else your servant slave-
At your disposal to your utmost attendance

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Anais Vionet Sep 2023
Are you a football fan?

Are you into BIG TIME college football, where my
home town, Georgia Bulldogs are defending, two-time
national champions? Their season began last week
or maybe you’re an NFL fan (they start playing this week).

Ivy league college football starts next week and if you're
not excited about it, maybe you don’t understand it.

Before games there are parties with pizza and chicken wings.
Do NOT go to a frat house on a game day - just don’t.

If you’re going to throw a college football game
you’ll need two teams of players in safety uniforms
and at least one football (that’s what they fight over).

You need a crowd - two crowds really - and a stadium
where everyone could, in theory, sit. There should be
flags, banners, hats and jerseys in riotous team colors.

You’ll need two marching bands and school mascots.
A bulldog will do (Yale), or if you can’t afford that, you could
dress someone up as a huge-headed pilgrim (Harvard).

Of course, as with any big sporting event you’ll need skimpily
dressed girls to toss in the air and assorted food and drink to sell.
There will be lots and lots of cars, and police and ambulances
standing by in case it’s all too much or someone gets hurt.

Cheerleaders are there to whip the crowd into a vocal frenzy,
soon everyone’s yelling things like “DE-fense,” “push em back,”
“Harvard *****” and “No, really, Harvard *****.”

The ideal game should include a bitter rivalry like Yale vs Harvard.
While everyone knows Yale is better academically, there’s a small
chance that Harvard could win the game - which makes it scary.
We won last year and we’ll play them again this year, in November.

Anyway, whatever flavor of football you like:
It’s football season people!
I'm NOT a cheerleader. We knew where they practice, and a girl was nice enough to let me use her pompoms for some snaps.
GvSparx Mar 2014
I wake up and look out of the window,
Breathe some fresh air and embrace the morning glow..
In a balcony opposite to my flat,
I see a girl skimpily clad..

She maneuvers her hair to the right,
And gazes at the street with such serenity in her eyes..
Suddenly a man comes and hugs her from behind,
She is shocked, she laughs, she kisses, she smiles..

I reach my office, and what do I see,
An official flirting with another right in front of me..
The natural forces make me hear every word they speak,
I don't wish to hear such things, when not meant for me..

She sits on top of a table,
As their hands entwine..
Their lips are at striking distance,
Seems like some **** about to unwind..

After an exhausting day, I desperately need some peace,
I go to a park and my thoughts break the leash..
I see kids playing with their parents,
As happy as they should be..

And then just nearby I see something,
That just keeps chasing me..
A couple smooching behind a
Not so secluded tree..

I know I am gonna be alone,
I am making peace with me..
May be it is better this way,
To be independent and free..

O' lover, not everyone is as lucky,
As you are and will be..
But you won't bother understanding,
Because you are no more one like me..
Caleb John Feb 2018
All around all I hear is
Do good in school
Get a good job
Make some cash
You see they leave out the last part
"And die"
I stopped and looked around
Were told to do what we're told and climb the ladder
What they didn't say is there's some broken rungs on that ladder
Money doesn't solve my problems
Neither do some useless pics on a screen
Neither do the pills
The drinks
Or the sleepless nights with a girl
I may not have experienced these things
But I've seen so money lives crash and burn because of them
Here we have the rise of feminism
All I hear are protests
Women's rights regarding abortion,
Pay
Equal rights
Yet those same women
Are the skimpily clad models guys look at on screens
You see the objectification of women doesn't happen with equal rights
So much as the way the look through the eyes of men
I could right day in and day out
Society is crashing
When we'll we get our heads out of the sand and look at ourselves
Abortion is ******
Lust is adultery
When we'll we see the monstrosities in our lives?
When we'll we see the cure
Jesus loves those little babies
What's even stranger is that he loves the killers of those babies
He died for each and every one of them
Jesus died for the adulterers
The rapists
The murderers
The innocent
The arrogant
The Prideful
He died for sinners
He died for this suicidal society

— The End —