"snatch" poems
****
*****
…………………..slick……slippery……………….
………………snatch……...vagina…………………..
……………mitten…………..kitten………………….
………… pookie…………….treasure………………
…..……..pudding…………..poontang………………
…………..poonani…………..scootie………………..
……………smitten…..………nookie………………...
………………sweet…..……...candy………………...
………………..warm……….mound……………….....
…………………...sink……pink………………………..
……………………bush….trim………………………..
……………………………..…tight………………………………
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
Grabbing *****
in the New Jersey sand
demands quick hands.
Creeping deep
they dig down under
away
from the wind
in their seldom seen shells,
but my brother has a shovel
and can ****** them
even in the midst of sea foam
from small waves climbing the shore.
And at cousin Barb’s pond
Our hands swipe swiftly,
But stealthily enough
In brisk Michigan winds
to grasp and capture
the frogs lingering
near the edges.
Hardest to catch though
are cicadas
in our back yard
hiding in the trees
calling out to play.
My brother and I,
ages 8 and 10
cast our fingers
and clench only their wings
enough to fill two milk jugs.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
A designer ******
A nip and a tuck
A trim of the curtains
A tightening up
A complementary adjustment
A tidying of bits
Matches the uplift
You had on your ****
So 6 months it took
To create the perfect ******
Only to find he's left you tonight
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:35 PM UTC
Blonde hair, tight tanned body
Not usually my type but
You stir something in me down there.
You smile shyly,
Girl, you are going to get us into more trouble.
You don't seem to need much coaxing.
Down slides the red cocktail dress,
Your toned body freed.
Black lace ******* shielding heaven.
Soft lips on mine, feels so good
Supple ******* in the palm of my hand,
Pinching ***** ******* a specialty of mine.
Feeling you tremble underneath me
Floods my cup,
I cannot wait to taste you.
I feel your fingers slide
between my thighs,
As our tongues do ballet.
Going to gain our membership
to the sisterhood now.
Wet knuckle status.
We are top to toe,
Better access.
I am starving for you.
It wont take us long to reach Nirvana,
I get it now,
I would have burnt my bra if I ever wore one.
Your ****** and my mouth are a perfect match
I do not usually swing this way
but am honored to dip my toe in your pool.
Crying out you pull away.
That's not how I work,
You will leave complete or not at all
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
If you'd been here
When I was young,
You'd not forget
What we'd have done.
We'd climb roofs,
Jump in the river,
****** neighbour's pears,
Then skedaddle,
Laughing with sweat-matted hair,
Wiping off those grown-up cares.
We'd bumper-jump in four inch snow,
And never let our parents know.
Oh, such fun we two would do,
If I could stay as young as you.
We'd skate and bike,
Play street ball,
Act up in school,
Stand in the hall;
We'd hike with jars
Along country brooks,
Read and trade
Our comic books.
Lie in the sand,
Burn in the sun,
Forgetting it was time for home.
We'd never tire of our treats,
And often we'd forget to eat
Because we're having all our fun:
If you'd been here when I was young.
We'd play Tag and Red Rover,
Flags and Chase,
Then have sleep-overs.
We'd swap tomorrow
For daily pearls,
Then swap each other
For pretty girls.
We'd be up to our shenanigans,
Sleep the sleep,
Then start again.
This is the way
We'd have our fun,
If you'd been here
When I was young.
But now you're here,
And I'm much older,
The things we'd do
You'll do with others;
But when you need a boost to climb,
This old man has a shoulder.
Yes,
I'll sure have lots of fun,
For you're here now.
That keeps me young.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
The bag exhales its emptiness.
It has run out of things to give,
only a few husks.
I prop my hand under my chin.
My darling puts her kit on the table
and strings the kernels through.
There were all shades of yellow #5.
America's #1 Finest!
She puts them round her neck,
glistening in tv-light,
that nacreous shell of a necklace.
The white noise plays on.
They start to burst, each one of them,
into a different kind of flower—
daffodils, dandelions, daisies—
it was quite a piece.
My hands are so close now, trembling,
and I am hungry.
The white noise plays on.
Quickly I ****** at them, ****** into her,
And my hand comes out empty,
only a few husks.
The petals scatter slowly around us.
The bright, yellow sun is crashing,
And so, too, does that crumpled bag
Into the trash, above which hung
My heavy heart, my sweet
And her finest around her neck.
I prop my hand under my chin again.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Ashen doves float within the waves,
slinking like silent demons in the night.
They curl around my body,
jaws operating like steel machines,
gnashing at my limbs.
I begin to scream for help,
but they ****** my breath,
they drag me under their tides of black,
unleashing my unremitting fear of water predators.
their teeth, sunken into my flesh,
gnawing at my mind,
painting me my new mortality.
These are my demons,
the sharks in the bath when it comes to hygiene.
the fear of the below and the depths of human mentality,
the untraceable percentage of human worthlessness,
the detestable attraction to the demise of our minds,
I float lower into the aqua,
pressure building,
unforgiving and foreboding
I close my lids, and dream of the sand,
praying it to be underfoot when I open my eyes,
but when my lids open, the doves loom closer.
The irony of a hydrophobe,
dying at the hands of the sharks.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
I bet you think all ****** don't read.
I bet you think all ****** smoke ****
I bet you think all ****** are the same.
I bet you think all ****** are the blame.
I bet you think ****** don't know nothing about the law.
I bet you think all ****** don't know nothing at all.
I bet you think all ****** are not smart.
I bet you think all ****** don't even care about art.
I bet you think all ****** are from the streets.
I bet you think, oh **** this poem is getting really deep.
I bet you think all ****** carry a heat.
I bet you think all ****** are dead beats.
I bet you think ****** are thugs.
I bet you think all ****** sell drugs.
I bet think all ****** are classless with statuses of madness
I bet you think all ****** are cashless.
I bet you think all ****** are in the penitentiary.
I bet you think all ****** are cemetery.
I bet you think all ****** rap or trap.
I bet you think all ****** sag their pants with two rags and a stockin' cap.
I bet you think all ****** are guilty.
I bet you think all ****** are filthy.
I bet you think all ****** rob.
I bet you think all ****** don't have a job.
I bet you think all ****** don't go to college.
I bet you think all ****** are out here wylin.
I bet you think all ****** are like Christopher Wallace.
I bet you think all ****** will grab and ****** you up for your wallet.
Some say a prophet, nah
I just see it how they call it.
Every line is on hydraulics.
Every time I rhyme, every word becomes solid.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
if the reader
falls in love with the character of a book,
their love can be eternal.
he can over and over re-read
each part of his beloved.
he can just stop for a while
and gently touch the mirage.
he can even ****** a piece
and carry it for a lifetime.
but what happens
if the character
falls in love with the reader?
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
I feel my warmth,
slick and ready,
Wanton and soft
I love myself.
Trim and smooth,
Tempo slow to begin,
My nerve endings electric,
I love myself.
Eyes closed, I can picture your body,
feel your hands all over mine,
Wet now, dripping.
I love myself.
My kitty is purring now,
faster and steady,
With each caress and stroke.
I love myself.
******* now cupped,
Cocooned in bliss,
Rubbing my ******
I love myself.
Eyes rolled, toes clenched,
Fireworks dancing, I BLAST OFF
Writhing, moaning, releasing
I love myself.
Weakened bliss flows down
Worries and cares removed,
Smile on face
I love myself.
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 3:28 AM UTC
We are evenly matched
Or so I thought
So I let down my guard
Thinking I'm alright.
But I placed my bishop
Diagonal three spaces
Perfect position to
put you in check
Realizing that
I've made a mistake
You move your knight
Two spaces forward,
one to the right
Halting my advances
Leaving only my queen
To defend the pride of her king
I defend from your every move
Until you capture her.
Leaving my king exposed
And defenseless
You marvel at it but
Are quick to place her
with the others you have
Captured and controlled
My king scurries
Space by space
Anxious to avoid
The inevitable capture
I am exhausted
Avoidance of you
is utterly impossible
So I give in
I tip over my king
in total surrender
How quick you are
to ****** it into your hands
You revel in your victory
Clinging to my king
My last piece
My last hope
But how quick you are
to discard it
How quickly you let it
tumble down onto the pile
But I forgot..
To you
This is just a game of chess
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
I pray that you will daily see
The God who fashioned you and me
Who formed the stars and gave us breath
Who’s sovereign over life and death
He is supreme and He is Love
Fulfills His purpose from Above
A Grand Design! A Perfect Plan!
Holding all things in His hand
His care is deep; His pleasures, sweet
Into which I pray you’ll sink
Deep and deep…and deeper still
Adore Him always; seek His will
He calls you “child” – loves you much
And so much so He loved you such:
When you were yet a rebel to
The heart of God, Christ died for you
A chosen soul, a chosen Bride
“Born that man no more may die!”
He gave His life for all His Sheep
He sowed it all that we might reap
Might reap new life and strength to run
To glorify God’s Only Son
To speak of Truth and sing with joy:
“In death, death has been destroyed!”
So, see the riches of His grace
By which you have beheld His face
He opened your blind eyes to see
Now daily look, and with Him, be
He’ll hold you safe until the end
No one can ****** you from His hand
He runs to meet you – draws you near
And daily whispers, “Do not fear”
.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
What is inside?
Something I do not know
Building in my veins
Will it help me grow?
I come across a wall
And moving to the side
I see another obstacle
That I can’t reveal or hide
I turn to my left,
Then right and around
I see my mirrored self
She doesn’t make a sound
Too long she’s been standing
Waiting to take control
And find that ***** girl
That some ******* stole
She is fierce and fantastic
Wanting to explore
Taking any sensation
To become a slutty *****
That ******* didn’t ****** you
I heard myself say
You’re a **** hungry woman
But are you ready to play?
I thought I was prepared
For ******* and the feast
Though I’m scared to show the world
The carefully hidden beast
Pressured stirring mounts
Like an ******** ***** fever
It is time for slutabration
And unhinge to receive her
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 12:10 PM UTC
Dusk!
With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings!
Bats!
Glowing red eyes and glistening fangs,
These unspeakable giant bugs drop into view.*
Fibrous wings furred like a moth,
Big ears are just a membranous extension of antennae.
Flying in search of a flower’s pollen laden froth,
Silent except for the hum and squeak of echolocation.
Trap bats in attics, butterflies in nets.
No rabies feared, no bedbug bites to itch.
Clawed feet ****** and grab like praying mantis pincers;
Bloated stomach slopes like a pudgy beetle.
Jaws manipulate like an ant, excise like scissors;
Soft hair rustles like a wooly caterpillar.
They live in darkness, centipedes do too,
Come out at night like cockroaches tend to.
Skittering through the night like daddy long-legs,
Noses snubbed like bumble bee faces.
Wind turbines endanger bats,
Like fans endanger lightning bugs.
Only one percent of bats are vampiric,
Like only a small percentage of spiders are poisonous.
Dawn!
With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings!
Bats!
Bats are bugs, aren’t they?
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:04 PM UTC
I asked a gypsy pal
To imitate an old image
And speak old wisdom.
She drew in her chin,
Made her neck and head
The top piece of a Nile obelisk
and said:
****** off the gag from thy mouth, child,
And be free to keep silence.
Tell no man anything for no man listens,
Yet hold thy lips ready to speak.
4.7k
The silver fog slithers around
my ankles, slowly winding up
my legs with a serpent's silk move.
Squeezing her fingers, my mother
and I approach the barn-red house.
It breathes heavily and its exhale
reveals a backyard cemetery.
As the mist settles, a limestone
hand reaches out to ****** her away.
Down the street the dollhouse neighbor
cannot see me screaming, weeping,
I call for help.
Brown-green water drips from
the bathroom ceiling--
the plumber continues plumbing.
Sweat beads form on the tip of
the fat priest's nose, as he climbs
the broken stairs, he continues preaching.
The porcelain girl wears her mother's
brown-stained ivory prom dress.
Chanting, Sonofabitch. Sonofabitch.
They cannot see me--
I flail my limbs.
They cannot hear me--
Their own cursing drown out my voice.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC
Prowling through the undergrowth
In our barging juggernaut,
Ploughing the rolling hills of water,
Which crease as the narrowboat sluggishly gliding past,
Brushes the bulrushes like a tiger in the reeds.
For four intrepid days
Our film and photographs are empty to show,
No sign, only missed whispers,
Of the hummingbird blue blur.
A darting flash cresting the morning chill,
Regal turquoise stealthily steals
Our attention, our focus, and our tiller
Noses toward the bank hugger.
And we have him.
Small amber-royal fisherman,
Eclipsing his heron heralds
And the swans silent vigil
In majestic lapis lazuli.
Swift and sure he graces the water,
Fisher King,
Which bends beneath his dive.
Resurfacing, his golden breast
Mottled with silver minnow.
There recluse in his exclusive spot,
Fish foundering still in the ******
The kingfisher's poise frames his catch
Aperture, shutter, captured shot.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:
Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,
Each soul expands, each grateful ***** burns,
While in thine hand with pleasure we behold
The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold.
Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies
She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:
Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d,
Sick at the view, she languish’d and expir’d;
Thus from the splendors of the morning light
The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.
No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land.
Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must ******
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?
For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favours to renew,
Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore.
May heav’nly grace the sacred sanction give
To all thy works, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name,
But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
4.6k
****** my heart
****** my hand
****** my finger,
with a shiny band.
Steal my mind
Steal my life
Steal my soul,
call me your wife.
Take my fear
Take my sores
Take my love,
it is yours.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
"Has it not never occurred to you," he said, eyes rolling like dice,
"The grab to bake cannot be left undone?
The neck to slip will save the top of leg?
When they lift we ****** the rotten *****
Six trots can win the flat softball netting?
Lost rocks find tabs undone by the grandpas?
It's like unbecomingphilomancy!"
You know what I mean?
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
Pen Can Write
Pen Can Draw
It Can Even Paint
Pen can fill Colours
In Shapes and Drawings
And in peoples Life too
Pen has Sympathy
Pen has Empathy
Pen has Emotions too
Pen can Heal
Make you feel
Calm and cool
Pen can save
It can control
The way we behave
Pen Can Fight
For your rights
And for others too
Pen can **** colours
From peoples life
And make it pretty hell
Pen can help you
****** poor's property
And make you very rich
Pen can throw
Culprit in Jail
Or can even grant him bail
Pen could be Cruel
Only needs some fuel
Then it could easily burn
Pen is Sharp
It can Cut and Wound
And Make you Bleed
But is it really the Pen
Or the Hand and Mind
Of one who uses the Pen
Pen is a Weapon
Pen is Lethal
So handle with care
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 9:56 AM UTC
first line lips are false as a beach next mcarthur’s in chicago next the big blond takes the elevator down next pearl on the lip next shalimar stirs the canine **** all right I like that let’s start a new one do it what what do you have don’t **** up wheres the apostrophe ******* you’re cruel now back now whack it again whack it again I want it to go back whack it press it whack it okay new line
i want elevator i want uh i want don’t ask the bellboy for the time just take the elevator to what? to notions? to the lingerie shop? ah **** you grandma new line
all right one more time okay **** the gin-socked tongue that’s “soaked” period once again the elevator down paint the pretty tie (cough cough) thai next big buick big *** like fish put a ? after fish take it back take it back you ***** okay that’s not bad you do all right ah **** song of india in the desert at night put “” marks around song of india & desert song in capital letters hit shalimar then cadillac red lips then **** like a seashell with a gin-soaked tongue start new line
all right does mcarthur stick his socks in the bathtune at night that’s bathtub the dog howls at the moon buries it in the backyard snakes lose their skin cocoa butter slick water on the brain of the big dark blond song of india **** **** **** big fish *** big v8 you ***** keep up with me painted rocks like a pretty tie fast car long legs and a broken heel now dead no not dead yet um estee lauder goes down on price-waterhouse in a swedish bath bellboy watching this is his reflection in the mirror no silver one-sided next line
big blond trampled by elephants with wrinkled knees starch is not chic all gone shalimar stirs the k-9 **** sequined *** in the moonlight cadillac red lips hungry dog eats tail becomes himself bad dog play dead okay what do you suggest bad doggie bad comma bad comma hungry dog go for the tongue you dumb ***** keep going new line
what do cactuses(i) have??? fronds fur what are their things called new line
dog hates gin go for the breast stupid ***** good dog dry dog poor dog pour blond water of life **** yellow a thai like painted rocks period next
i want head down legs up i want sequined *** only ****** level damp dampened dampest ***** panorama **** **** **** blue blue down there feminine azure with clouds too got it odalisque in blue period have mercy on me no no new ******* line what are you filling that thing up with okay stop it for now
4.6k
Society moves like a bullet
And there's no way to cool it
We're not big fans of reflection
So we become slaves to deflection
Bouncing off of hard surfaces
Like limiting gun purchases
Constriction isn't part of or vocabulary
Proliferation is all we know
Watching weapon supplies grow
I live in a country
Riddled by bullets
Bullets that blast through our ****** body
Though the holes in our mind are bigger
When we can **** those we think are naughty
We become judges when we pull the trigger
But the media makes mountains out of molehills
And it is for those exaggerated reasons we ****
We are stuck in a bullet storm
When TV advertises bullet ****
This helps make bullets the norm
So we treat mass shootings with a familiarity
Because we can't acknowledge the only similarity
Is obviously the gun
We're blinded by the sun
Of defense contractors
They're negative reactors
When we purpose a change
The conversation they rearrange
By firing in every possible direction
This is the aforementioned deflection
And it works
You can tell because people are dying
Or standing in the street crying
Or watching the news sighing
Bullet time has wooed us
Bullet crimes have moved us
There are people who gain wealth
From our diminishing health
They hold society on their rope
And the only way we can cope
Is to ****** that rope from their greedy grasp and pull it
But that's hard to do while being punctured by bullets
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
I have come humble to seek your knowledge
With exhausted feet and weighing burden, I bear my heart
I have travelled far to arrive at the world's edge
Ready to receive what wisdom you will impart
I'll set myself cross-legged on the opposite of you
I see you peering, examining my physical entirety
With one good eye, you gaze right through
Makes me uncomfortable, if I may... But I'll hold steady
I notice you muttering but no words could be heard
Your hands hovering over a glassy globe with an ominous glow
You turn to the left, as if conversing with an invisible third
Whispering secrets that I will never learn to know
Shifting your gaze now into the crystal orb
What do you see, Wise One, in that ball of yours
You shudder upon it's touch as though it's power you absorb
Tell me, Soothsayer... What lies for me in this course?
You swiftly pull your hands behind your back
I flinch with a start at your sudden display
You bring back your hands revealing cards out of a stack
You tremble in spasms, dropping the rest leaving one for play
The card you place face down, right in front of me
You motion for me to pick it up and flip it round
I see the card bore inscriptions and ancient runes, quizzically
You ****** the card and begin chanting in odd sounds
Reciting your incantations, in a tongue I do not understand
They sound like curses rather than the answers I seek
It all ends almost as soon as it started... I can't comprehend
You then place your warm palms gently touching my cheeks
Your features softened as you stared into my sullen eyes
A connection like eternity trapped within seconds never going astray
Then you turn away to fetch a bundle roped in knots and ties
You hand it to me hastily before ushering me on my way
I am now perplexed much... What does it show?
What did you see, what does my future hold?
Please enlighten me what you've come to know
From all of that, what could you have foretold?
Bundle in hand I turn to leave your rundown shanty
As I leave, you speak in your voice, different from before
Soft yet raspy you say, *"Do not open till the end of journey"
"Open only when in house, behind closed door"*
Moon is up illuminating, as I make my way up north
Armed in hand a strange, scented, tied up bundle
Leaving with the same questions with no answers, I amble forth
Wondering if in the bundle I may find the missing pieces of the puzzle...
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC