"squeeze" poems
Wetter than any weather
the better the wetter
deeper than any sea
shaved perfectly; lovely
lips that tightly squeeze
my hard rod and pleasure me
plush gush running a stream
delicious taste; fulfilling my need.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC
***** What are those?
creation of some great architect.
they vary in size, shape and dimension
also in weight, width and assimilation...
one touch takes you million stars away
heavenly bliss, on the earth nevertheless,
squeeze them to the delight,
hold them to their perfect shapes,
Hands in joy and trickling liquid SomePlaceElse..
moaning body, screaming someone's name,
dude! you are the luckiest, keep up the fame..
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
Pretty little iris
****** white sclera
Despite those tempting lashes
Her lies are getting clearer
Come a little closer
Squeeze a little tighter
She's squinting a little thinner
But her pupils are getting wider
She wants your focus now
Don't trust those golden eyes
It only takes a little peek
To fall for those gorgeous lies
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
we like to shower afterwards
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and peaceful
and she'll watch me first
spread the soap over my *****
lift the *****
squeeze them,
then wash the ****
"hey, this thing is still hard!"
then get all the hair down there,-
the belly, the back, the neck, the legs,
I grin grin grin,
and then I wash her. . .
first the **** I
stand behind her, my **** in the cheeks of her ***
I gently soap up the **** hairs,
wash there with a soothing motion,
I linger perhaps longer than necessary,
then I get the backs of the legs, the ***
the back, the neck, I turn her, kiss her,
soap up the ******* get them and the belly, the neck,
the fronts of the legs, the ankles, the feet,
and then the **** once more, for luck. . .
another kiss, and she gets out first,
toweling, sometimes singing while I stay in
turn the water on hotter
feeling the good times of love's miracle
I then get out. . .
it is usually mid-afternoon and quiet,
and getting dressed we talk about what else
there might be to do,
but being together solves most of it
for as long as those things stay solved
in the history of women and
man, it's different for each-
for me, it's splendid enough to remember
past the memories of pain and defeat and unhappiness:
when you take it away
do it slowly and easily
make it as if I were dying in my sleep instead of in
my life, amen.
33.5k
load your bullets
in the firing chamber
and they'll fly
from your lips,
ricochet and lodge
past the scarce armor
of my ribcage
into this glass heart of mine
*let my insecurities bleed out
don't staunch the flow*
pierce my skin
with the shards of my heart
end my misery,
squeeze the trigger
with practiced ease
*breathe in,
breathe out
breathe in,
breathe out*
*(you'll find another victim
downrange of you)*
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Lust or lost in the idea of wanting something I don't need... I can't breathe without it...I greed.. I crave.... Hmmm... Lust.....I squeeze so hard ..dust..it turns.. I yearn to have it.... Want but don't need.... share never.. A hot cold sweat.. Maybe a fever. Lust.....it's changing me...Help
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
Within and in between
a dusty red brick chimney,
and a tired aging oak,
do advance the clouds of
brilliant ember,
cascading over one another, eager
to wash the field of azure
while a gentle roll of
thunder
bids goodnight from afar.
How we wish that the
weary hourglass
would squeeze each grain,
so that raindrops
-- having just settled among
emerald blades -- would
glisten for a lifetime,
while the world remain bathed
in a candle-lit hue.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
I'm coming for you,
better run and hide,
found you,
thought you were sly,
make you hold me tight,
all night,
don't cry it will be alright,
I'll make it feel good,
I'll make it nice
maybe add some spice,
make you whimper and beg,
please,
Biting down, blow and squeeze
I'll make you scream,
till you want more,
on the floor?
Top, bottom, doesn't matter,
don't flatter yourself,
I'll give you a dollar,
holla!
Look so good,
so fine you'll be mine,
its a crime how your kind
But I'll make you see all of me,
turn you over shake you down
turn you around,
be true
to the monster I made of you
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
*****
I like ***** I like ****
before you touch, you must get permits.
Nothing like a nice pair of assets,
oh how puppies make nice pets.
Bazongas are ***** that are large,
strippers and hookers, will always charge.
Nothing like the perfect *****
but only on the perfect woman.
******* are yummy dark or white,
but first you must wait for an invite.
Some girls even have a third ******
do not squeeze says Mr. Whipple.
I don't mind girls on the itty, bitty, ***** committee,
on a carpenters dream, I show no pity.
They could be called a bust, some call them cans,
a woman's squeeze box, all men are fans.
Chesticles is a term I have never heard,
but everyday, I learn a new word.
I like cones, I like jugs,
girls with big ones, I give hugs.
Al Bundy loved calling them *******
at the restaurant, I wish I was one of the recruiters.
A girl with a nice set of knockers,
might find herself with unwanted stalkers.
Fergie sang about her lovely lady lumps,
a good set of melons, still give me goose bumps.
***** always come in a pair,
why do bra's, they have to wear.
Even men who smoke lots of crack,
still can appreciate a good sized rack.
I don't care if there fake or real.
in a crowded room, I always cop a feel.
Girls love showing off some cleavage,
I wish I lived in a ***** village.
Babies need breast milk to make them stronger,
if the mom is hot, they may do it longer.
In conclusion, I love *****
with whipped cream or melting ice cubes.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Are you listening to the whispers? are you feeling scandalised?
Harbouring ***** little feelings that you wanna sanitise?
Walk through the swinging doors of a catholic franchise
Ask em for that sailors knot a black-n-white man-ties
To the pairs of prying eyes his practical rebuke
Is a marital disguise and a tactical puke
Throw the garter ‘mongst the pigeons, the voluntary victims...
Whose single minds are filled with matrimonial conviction
Paired up poets pool their miseries; the price of art
Each miserable synergy - the sum of its parts
Did he swear that he’d hold you ever dear to his heart?
To love and to cherish til your knees did part?
If she wants you like her father and you want her like your mother
What the hell are you gonna do when you’re bored of one another?
There she stands on ceremony all silk and sinew
While the vow evicted from his Adam’s apple continues
To stutter as the panic builds like stifled farts
Til it splutters its devotions on her lady parts
Her eyes sentence you to sit though your neck-hairs stand
She’s the ****** ****** written in the lines on your palm
Old scores squeeze sideways through her gritted teeth
And he takes on the debt of every promise she believed
Hide the love-bites in a polo-neck, your love life in a Rolodex
When the ***** hand of happen-stance runs its evil down your keks
Cos like the indelible digits on your bathroom mirror
Love is for life until you dress it with liquor
If she wants you like her father and you want her like your mother
What the hell are you gonna do when you’re bored of one another?
We are but experiments, seven billion shades of wrong
The clever ones stay celibate, the others pass it on
That’s an easy line to settle-on in present company
Single-riders in the peloton to pick up the debris
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
I'll mind ya like a monsoon you hurricane gale force spirit wind, you!
Seems like you can't see past the eye of your silly storm seems like it's easy breezy bright light night sky lemon cheesy moon.
I'll mind ya like a monsoon of rabid baboons don't steal my life wine it's not mine same light same shimmer. Everything's every color but the one I see.
Oh jeeze oh jeeze
gimme a squeeze
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
Wetter than any weather
the better the wetter
deeper than any sea
shaved perfectly; lovely
lips that tightly squeeze
my hard rod and pleasure me
plush gush running a stream
delicious taste; fulfilling my need.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
I've been having a hard time lately
I'm sorry about that baby.
I close my eyes
And thoughts of what would have been flows by.
I squeeze my eyes to keep from crying.
I've been doing that a lot lately.
I just haven't been the same since I lost the baby.
(a.d)
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
It's a wide open art,
from the start.
Rules are for schools.
Dont fret em,
forget em.
So
Relax with a syntax,
clown around,
with a pronoun.
Squeeze the ******
of a dangling participle.
Free flying like geese,
creative words release,
make it up if you please.
Example--the plural of mice is meese.
Flowery language isn't the exclusive domain of the professional writer, it's for everyone!
To continue then,
about the writers pen.
No write or wrong,
nothings too short or long.
Mangled,
bungled,
butchered,
bumbled, don't matter.
We don't need a librarian to admire what we have done.
Words aren't hard,
fling them unbarred.
It's not arithmetic,
or teaching a cat a trick.
Crunch them uniting,
mix them combining.
Fling them,
meld them,
Verb them,
sell them.
We don't need a New York Times best seller to enjoy the art of writing.
Uncrate it,
create it.
Use it,
and abuse it.
Don't bar us
from a thesaurus
Or a dictionary.
The spiel
is to write real
tell the tale
seal the deal.
WORD HATERS live in the town called Fictionary.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
I'm craving a man-hug tonight,
initiated by strong arms picking up my under weight body
letting me believe I'm re-enacting the lift from ***** dancing.
And as those arms hold me close
I would bury my face in his neck
where after shave meets his soft pulse and the warmth of my breath.
This hug would be so tight,
tight enough to squeeze the pain out of my soul
and be incredibly protective at the same time
beating away the nightmares of reality late at night.
A hug that draws out all the tears that should have been cried
until my eyes run dry
and start shedding all the rejection accumulated throughout this plight.
An unconditional man-hug with its ends free,
one not subjected to a **** in my mouth
a cigarette
*****
a cigarette
couple of poems
insomnia
and a cold bed.
I crave for a man-hug that will liberate me
from the pathetic standards I've set for myself,
of how I should be treated before handing a piece of me in exchange.
One that would numb the little voice in my head
which goes on and on
about self-deprecating ********
bundling together all the mistakes made over the years
and spanking my self-confidence
until it dresses up in a short skirt and high heels
and runs into the arms of a narcissist *****
A man-hug to step in and save the day
when loneliness breaks in,
and murders empowerment, independence and positivity in their sleep,
then opens the door to insecurity and fear,
who robs all hope,
leaving behind intolerable darkness.
I crave for a man-hug that follows through to the end
with stability and consistency,
like mom's cooking or my best friend,
or daddy's instant reaction to defend.
One that's tangible and attainable
without twirling my fingers around forgotten jewellery,
phone messages
or a drunk memory
just to remind myself what it felt like,
but only to be reminded that it can never be felt again.
Though I'm craving a man-hug tonight
I will have no luck.
Because anything with "man" in front of it,
will always just be a ****
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
I'm sure I look fine.
Days like today,
I want to strip the skin
From my forearms
Using only my fingernails.
Days like today,
I want to wring out
My legs like a washcloth,
Squeeze the rolls on my stomach
Until they're empty.
Days like this,
I want to walk away from my body
forever.
I'm sure I look fine.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
[Intoxicated by Freemasons is playing in the background]
(A smokin' hot intoxicated woman walks up to me initiating a conversation in the club.)
Kadija: Hey I couldn't help but notice your gorgeous self from across the room!
Me: I can definitely say the same about you. Matter of fact I'm saying it right now because I'm a free spirit lol.
(We both laughed)
Kadija: You're so **** hot!
(She grabs my face and starts making out with me very passionately.)
(The kiss lingers for about a minute and a half.)
(She then breaks the kiss. Both of us gasp for breath.)
Me: You're pretty ******* hot too!
Kadija: Can you sign my *****
Me: Sure I love signing chicks ***** It's one of the best **** party favors in America!
Kadija: I know right!
(She pulls her top down flashing her beautiful tan ***** and tan *******
(She briefly rubs/twists her *******
(I sign her ***** and put a smiley emoji along with a smiley with shades finishing her off with a deep kiss on each of her ***** giving a little bit of tongue swirling action across her *******
Kadija: Whoo! Hell yeah!
(She shakes her ***** from side to side and briefly jumps and down. I was mesmerized by the way they were moving up and down then puts them back into her top.)
Kadija: Thanks for the kiss babe!
Me: No prob. You have beautiful ******* I like them.
Kadija: They like you too lol.
(Grinning from ear to ear I smile.)
Kadija: Come on baby give them a squeeze lol.
(I grab her ******* and squeeze them.)
(She grips my **** through my pants and starts rubbing it.)
Kadija: Mmm thanks babe. These ***** have been needing a little TLC anyway. They've been bored to death and needed a little fun and excitement.
(We both laughed again.)
Kadija: But if you really wanna see them in action there is a bathroom right behind us.
Me: I'm down
Kadija: Come on baby let's go.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Touch me, kiss me, love me, hate me.
I want it all and I want more.
Louder, harder, faster, stronger.
I want it all and I want it longer.
No breaks.
No breather.
Just touch me, pull me, throw me,
Love me.
All night, all day, every week, every way.
I want you all to me, and I want you
To take me.
Push it baby, push it farther,
Don't stop now, it's just getting harder.
Grab me, squeeze me, feel me, hurt me.
I want to feel like I feel inside.
Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me.
Love me.
_
'10
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 8:02 AM UTC
It doesn't feel much like ****
when I text you the day after
the incident,
to say I left my card at your house,
and go to collect it,
with a quick peck on the cheek,
a squeeze of my ***
and its as if it never happened...
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
This is how it goes
your hands will be proxy for mine
my hands will be proxy for yours
your fingers my fingers
and my fingers yours
what I describe, you enact
told in detail so exact
Just to begin
I squeeze your *******
knead and pinch
tweak a ******
give it a tug
Stroke your tummy
work over your thighs
move up the inner
where skin is smooth
circle around, moving in
till soft contours are caressed
through pants that burn
to be removed
that pain you to wear
and I see in my mind
as you describe
the spreading, darkening patch
that fills the gusset
Now they're pulled down
removed quickly, completely
and you are revealed
spread, opened, shameless
Gentle fingertips tease
dance in circles, barely touching
yet the fire within grows
back and forth, round and round
dance the fingertips
as both reciprocate
with growing pace
and firmer touch
I hear you gasp down the line
and your breathing quickens
as you hear mine
as your excitement fuels mine
as mine fuels yours
in our feedback loop of lust
And I tell you how
my fingertip would give way
to tonguetip if I could
that I can taste you
in my imagination
fragrant, salty sweetness
with musky undertones
the tip of my tongue now circling
then flicking back and forth
beating out the rhythm
that you best harmonise with
bringing forth your moans
Then darting down, back
between wet, glistening folds
exploring each ridge and valley
working remorselessly
Breathing faster now
with animal grunts and moans
directions of pleasure gasped
breathless down the phone
As fingers again
take the lead
find the opening
slip readily within
probe, explore, ****
find that place
on your front wall
yes, just that spot
that's a little rougher
and feels sooo goood
Add a second finger
working and *******
licking and rubbing
moaning and gasping
barely intelligible now
...yess...more...yess...ohhh
are all that have meaning
Finger three joins one and two
then the pressure builds
demanding release
and shaking and thrusting
grows to shuddering
and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose
******* faster furiously
till we both explode
hearing each other's
voicing of our ecstasy
in language intelligible
only in this one context
Brains and voices return
as we bask in the afterglow
and what passes between us then
in those moments
is the deepest intimacy of all
Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
It’s just easy for them
Isn’t it?
This couple on the train.
They walked on laughing together
Holding hands
And I felt that familiar something-
Not jealousy
Not envy
But...
Chagrin.
Astonishment.
Incredulity.
Incomprehension.
Looking at them feels like looking at one of those
Impossible pictures
Where the stairs keep going forever in a loop.
It’s just
Easy for them.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, that thought,
But thinking it feels so odd in my mind
When I can’t imagine loving someone without
Shame,
Without pain.
They fit.
These people,
They fit without having to carve anything out.
They fit without punishing each other.
They fit like puzzle pieces cut from the same board-
No worries, they just go together, and that
Is that.
They fit like
“Of course.”
Like breathing.
Neatly.
Simply.
Carelessly.
I can’t imagine what it’s like
I can’t comprehend it-
To fit
Somewhere
Much less to fit somewhere
With someone.
I am always trying to corset myself into this world,
Lungs burning,
Trying to remain small enough to squeeze by
Catching myself by the wrist to keep from reaching
For anything.
And if there seems to be a spot where I might be able to exist as I am
It is always
Occupied.
Like a shiny pinprick
That thought hurts-
Not like the others it is newly cut
And still ******
The idea that maybe there is a home for me
And that maybe I was too late for it.
They’re laughing.
He says something clever,
Passes a hand along the small of her back
And she leans into it,
Smiling because she loves that he wants to touch her innocently.
They seem to exist behind glass.
Not for the first time I wonder
If I could just slip into that life
Like a drop into an ocean
I want it badly
I want it stupidly
And I examine all the parts of myself,
All the edges and cracks,
All the things I’ve worked so hard to protect and repair.
It is not a welcome sight-
I am not a home
I am like an old ruin
Full of murmurings and cold spots
Full of dusty sunlight.
I sigh,
Knowing the secret I keep so poorly-
That if I really had a choice to be otherwise
I would have already made it.
I couldn’t reach them if I ran for a thousand years,
They are too far away.
They walk off the train, arms linked
Talking about nothing
And I watch them go
Like a hallucination,
Like a mirage in the desert.
Her perfume smells like forgetfulness
And it lingers.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
Love the wife of Loyalty stands with her husband's arms wrapped around her and her arms wrapped around him in an warming embrace. Loyalty looked into the eyes of Love and said
"My beautiful, beautiful, wife you filled my heart with joy by becoming my wife. My world revolves around you. I will always be there for you. I will stand by your side and help you chase after your dreams. I will protect you from all threats."
Love gave Loyalty a squeeze and said
"I too will stand by your side and help you chase after your dreams. I will be there for you in your time of need or when ever you just want me by your side."
Love and Loyalty looked into each other's eyes and began to kiss.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
A message for Elsa
Please won't you be
Won't you be
My hug Bud-ee?
We can hug in the night
And during the day
We are loving friends
And its okay
If you have a boyfriend
We are just hugging anyway
We share a concern
For each other
And to show how
We love one another
In our special way
We love to hug
And this is okay
One hug
Two hugs
Three or Four
We care for
Each other
So much
Let's just hug some more
I'm so huggable
And so are you
Just look at what
These hugs can do
We are laughing
And smiling
Because hugs feel good
You should try hugging to
You really should
Elsa will you forever be
Forever be
My hug buddy?
Would you care
For a fruit bowl
Maybe a yogurt cup?
I'll make some good food
To fill you up
I'm thankful for
The loving comments
You write
And I'm not embarrassed
To say
I think of giving you a hug
When I squeeze my pillow
At night
A warm and caring person
Is what you are
And my how your
Eyes shine
Like the north star
I'm grateful
To have you
As a friend
You are my hug buddy
And my hugs
To you I send
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
I
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
II
O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down
Over each silver and golden silk gown;
'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O but he was fair as a garden in flower,
As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
15.2k