"stud" poems
Pink-Haired Wildflower
I know you.
I see you.
everyday at least once
Your pedals are short
and cute
chopped off at the chin
Your clothes are loose
and indie
style, you wear so well
You walk so confidently
each stride your own.
You glitter shining vibrantly
like the stud in your nose.
You smile so easily
and laugh with no care in the world.
Pink-Haired Wildflower
do you know me?
do you see me?
each time I pass you on the way
I look at you
and try not to stare
your flowered beauty beholds me
I wonder what you think of me
This bent over gait
dark-circle-eyed
fool. I am
struggling to stay upright.
Can you see the weight on my shoulders?
The stress in my complexion?
my gnawed on nails and torn skin
Tell me, what do you see in my gaze?
I wish I possessed your confidence.
Your grace in billowed petals.
Your fragrance has a trail
that always circles back to me.
everyday I see you.
though I say nothing.
Whatever you are
I want you in a bouquet on my bedside table
as I lie there
trying not to cry
or die.
Let your rank beauty infect me
aromatic surround me.
Be mine.
Lay claim to me.
Show me your ways.
or at least learn my name
as if I knew yours
You're a stranger to me Pink-Haired Wildflower
last night your dyed your hair Blue
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
She made me wear
A pink french maid's uniform that day
I had to wait on her and her black stud lover Tyrone
Fix them drinks and make them dinner
These are the duties of the ***** cuckold
It's hard to be inferior to him
He is so well-built and powerful
A perfectly sculpted body
A large and powerful manhood
He is every woman's dream
She reminds me that no beautiful woman
Will ever want to be with a ***** like me
That my manhood is too small
That my *** drive is too low
Nature has dealt me a bad hand
I sit by the bedroom door
This time I am not allowed to watch
She only told me that they would be doing it **********
I sit next to the door
I hear her load moans and sighs
I know he is pleasuring her
In ways I never could
My goodness
Forty-five minutes have passed
And they are still going at it
I peer through a crack in the door
He is so powerful that he can hold her up
As he thrusts deep inside her
I am not strong enough
To have *** in the standing position
What a man he is
He can squat 300 pounds
And has a strong powerful ***
Look at him ******
She screams in ecstasy
After she is finished
She will tell me how wonderful he was
As I polish her high heels
After he leaves
I have the humiliating and exciting task
Of giving her oral pleasure
These are the duties of the ***** cuckold
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
My dog goes ring-o-hop,
He likes to do hip hop,
He looks so cool,
When he jumps in the pool.
Wearing a stud-type top.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
Visiting a friend on his Quarter
Horse farm, the day sunny and warm.
We walked out to his brood mare
pasture, the ladies were running,
awaiting and sunning, anticipation
in the air and their nervous behavior.
Noble his name, consistency his game,
a reliable aging stallion, sire to many
fine sons and daughters, years of proven
pairings, came halter led and prancing.
He had their scent and his spirit awakened,
the three ladies believed to be in season began
to snigger and whinny, their excitement growing
as the stallion entered their grassy domain,
the dance was about to commence.
The handler led the big fella' forward,
both sides began their quizzical inspections.
one young filly more aggressively willing
than the others. Noble excitedly returned
her heightened interest.
Within a few minutes Noble began to rear up,
he knew his job, his august appendage extended,
trying several times to mount his mate intended,
adrenaline pumping his back legs began to shake,
on his fourth failed attempt the eager proven
suitor fell to the ground, rolled over, paused for
a moment and struggled to stand on unsteady legs.
Appearing even somewhat embarrassed.
The mare moved aside, kicked her hind legs in
the stallion's direction, whinnied loudly and
ran away. Rejected the old stallion stood looking
perplexed, failure was something unknown to him.
His spirit was willing but his aging body was weak.
The old stud slowly returned to the barn, his head
hung low, no longer prancing.
For every time and being there is a season, aging
is part of the cycle, like this stallion, we all reach
this moment of understanding. Sometimes gracefully,
most times with stunned disbelief.
From Noble to nothing in one afternoon.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
Is it right to be judge just because we like different opposite *** we hear this everyday talking about we gonna to sin just because we like what we like and I love they way I'm and I don't care if society Judge us who are you just because I proud lesbian/ stud and it's doesn't make any sense to me no more just caused people don't agree with us and tearing me apart but oh well. Being in a world that people judge you because of your choice of clothes you wear and how you want to wear it cause that make you comfortable being you and not worried about what society have to say. Being proud of yourself. Being part of the LGBTQ Community is a great thing to be in cause there is a alot of Iove that they show us for being ourself and nobody else can't change that cause we are comfortable in our own skin and being happy because we found who we are and what we like. I'm glad that I found out what I like and what I don't like for years cause I was scare what will society will think of me being a lesbian cause we get judge all the time for liking female and not men cause it's a sin for liking them but I don't care what society thinks cause I'm glad that I'm in the LGBTQ Community.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Come in and enjoy the Night-Light Hotel
Where Pillows and Perfumes meet and relax
And Therapy takes either Bond or Belle
And Goldfish blow this Friday's Bubbly Sax
Here upon registry your Token awaits
The Flannel up-hook which you strip and wear
Then wait for your turn as your Number rebates
A little whilst knowing your Musk reeks there
I for one made this Malicious Decide
And tempt my ****** to swallow this Treat:
Upper-Lower Left; Upper-Lower Right
Then descend into Base - Heh! Heh! Heh! Heh!
Stud or Salome, let Conscience give choose
But trust me to say I am a Man too.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
river in the joyful times
river in the elegiac
you give and take away
in your eloquent tongue
wagon, sunlight, lawn chair
subtle victories that make me smile
breathe and melt inside arms
that hold tight to the lapidary
memories that stud themselves
in my brain and the photos
not being old enough to go to the festival
interrupted, the soft fall into the river
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
From a young age I knew
there was a man and a woman out there, complete strangers,
who were, biologically, my grandparents.
I knew my chances of meeting them were exactly zero to none.
The parents who took my dad home that day were his parents
And that was done.
Before me sat a grandmother, and the spirit of a grandfather passed,
who loved me more than any stranger-grandparent ever could
who was there for every dance recital, every holiday, every mistake, every success
who, though I bore no resemblance, watched me grow right before her eyes
who swore the Easter bunny left treats at her house for me--
even when I was beyond the years of belief.
Always wearing a sweatsuit and gold stud earrings,
with an added neck-scarf and red lip for special occasions.
Telling tales of the "poor dear" animal she saw
Dead on the side of the road--
Sad enough, you'd think it was her own.
Church every Sunday and the shirt off her back,
Had you asked.
This woman I explain
Shares no blood, but, a surname.
I love her just the same
If not more
Than any grandmother
Genetics had in store.
She's a part of who I am,
though not in my DNA.
Nature versus Nurture:
Nurture wins again.
She taught me:
Strength, grace, humility, selflessness, generosity, and patience
Without sharing one biological thread
By example she lead
And I continue to follow
In her footsteps.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Red haired dame
black roots
dark brown eyes
thin lips
but smiles neat
handles the cell phone
between thin fingers
nails chewed
adding tabs
suggesting networks
that work best
thin tattooed arms
small busted
maybe less expensive
but it's better
she says
Johnny smiles
notes the small stud
in her lower lip
knows her cell phones well
that's for sure
he knows
next to nowt
just to switch
on and off
and send a text or two
and call
now and then
but it's Johnny daughter
who's buying
not he
he's just the onlooker
taking notes
for a poem
just like this
mental note as poets do
to catch the essence
before it takes flight
like some rare moth
into the night.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
I sit back on the computer,
Browsing through the pages of those I grew up with
Those people who thought they knew everything about me
I sit back and see what they’ve made of themselves
This girl is single, living alone with her four cats
This other girl now has two kids, unmarried and no degree
This girl is engaged to her high school sweetheart, yet they don’t look happy
This other couple broke up, wait they’re back together, nope spoke too soon
This guy is working at the local supermarket, never went to college after his arrest
This guy gained a few pounds, no longer the star athlete
This guy dropped off the map
See being the quiet girl, I learned secrets
I knew the deepest secrets of every single one of these people
Because while they sat in the back of the room chattering on about their so called problems
I was sitting in the front,
Listening
This girl had two boyfriends, and even more flings
This girl slept with four guys in one night
This girl’s boyfriend cheated on her, over and over again
This couple would sneak off in between classes, during lunch, or school assemblies
This guy was the trophy child, who gave away free drugs to his friends hidden inside pens
This guy was the quarterback; everything handed to him on a golden platter
This guy was the school stud who was hiding a relationship with his boyfriend by sleeping with every girl he could
Back then I listened because I wanted to feel apart of something bigger
I wanted to be one of them,
I wanted to be invited to all those weekend bashes
I wanted to be the girl people felt awed by, inspired by, idolized
I wanted to be part of the “in” crowd
So I stood there, day after day
As they teased me
Berated me
Shattered my confidence
Tearing apart everything I was
Telling me I would never amount to anything
Telling me I was fat, ugly, stupid
That I unworthy of love
Telling me…
I
Was
Nothing
Let them tell me that today
I see everything of what they have become
Those people I wanted to be are no longer there
Their confidence shattered by reality
The best days of their life ended the day they left high school
Mine on the other hand are just beginning
I am the girl who is wanted
I’m the girl who can go wild
I’m the girl who can be passionate
I’m the girl who is adventurous
I’m the girl who brings pride
I’m the girl who is the athlete
I'm the girl who travels the world
I’m the girl who is unashamed of who I am
Because by pushing me out
My oppressors gave me everything I needed
The strength to try
The courage to dream
The ability to think
The confidence to be unique
Independence to thrive
But more than anything
My oppressors gave me desire
Desire to be more than they believed I could be
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
If there is one thing I will always be grateful for,
It is how I was raised and who I am.
My mother taught me that there is no such thing as a *****
And if I am called that by anyone not to give a ****
My ****** expression and who I decide to let inside me,
Does not define who I am and my worth.
People may not like what I do and won’t always agree,
But my sexuality is as natural as grass growing in the earth.
And probably the biggest double standard ever,
Has to be the praise men receive when they’re laid.
They get called “badass” and “stud” when they pull off that endeavor,
But if women do the same they are met with lots of shade.
The saying it takes two to tango comes into play here,
Because if a man’s getting laid so is the woman.
So let’s get **** shaming to disappear,
Because after all we are only human.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
It was nightfall,
I felt very sleepy,
And I dozed-off
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
Oh how strong he was!
All muscle unlike my body,
Stiffer, stronger & ***** he was!
She gave a bath,
And a massage too,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
She caresses it sweetly,
And she kisses it too,
Yes, the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
She kissed my stud,
A bit too much and,
The stud spewed its stomach
Out on her face,
In my most wild
Dreams-Dreams.
The girl's eyes were,
Teeming with tears,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
As she was happy,
Tears were of joy,
To the stud in my
Dreams-Dreams.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
Since I have no other way
And am in utmost need,
Painter girl,
I filch one of the eight lambs
You have made plump with
Green jackfruit leaves and
Thin gruel with paddy bran.
I will take it to the goat market
And sell it in a jiffy.
I assure you
I will not sell it
To any butcher-
The lamb you made chubby
With sweet sweet words
And much much petting
And nice lilting croons,
Mixing and mixing
Greens with browns.
Don’t be sad, painter girl.
I hear you come running
Searching for your lamb and
Cry out “O my dearest one
Who went grazing in the green fields,”
As the sun in your canvas
Sets in the sea and
The saffron blends with the dusk.
And, see your tears mingle
With the black that you wanted
To adorn the brow of
The naughtiest of them.
Painter girl,
It’s all because I have no other go
And it’s of utmost need.
I could have broken into the
Two-storeyedhouse you sketched
And stolen the ornaments in
Secret lockers that even
You are unaware of.
Or, I could have
Palmed the golden girdle
Of the beautiful ***** princess
Whose portrait you made,
The one with a nose stud.
Or, drugged her with my kisses
And plundered the harem.
Or else, I could have
Entered the snake shrine
Guarded by the dark serpents
That you often drew
And fled the country with
The precious jewel.
Or, I could have shot down
The birds that you drew
And sold them grilled.
I could have axed down the
Mahagony trees you nurtured
And sold them as timber.
I could have blinded your Kanhaiah
And made him a beggar
To become rich from the alms he earned.
I could have enslavened his Gopis
And handed them over
To the red light streets.
Painter girl,
It’s not for anything of this sort.
I take just one of your eight lambs.
Sell it for a good price
And fulfill my need.
Now, perchance,
If a new tenant comes to rent
My brain where nothing resides
And if they pay me a fat advance,
Painter girl,
Surely will I buy back your lamb.
And tether it in your painting.
Don’t you dare say then
Don’t you say then
That you have forgotten it.
Don’t you say then
You have exhausted your stock of
Green jackfruit leaves.
(Trans from Malayalam by Ra Sh)
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
You're just her little lap dog
Its so pitiful and sad
Jumping around yipping and yapping
Like some shitzu thats gone mad
She pets you now and then
Throws an occasional bone
Keeps you hanging on that leash
While perched upon her throne
She doesnt really want you
Just needs your foolish loyalty
In that tiny brain you know its true
Offered you my open arms
And a honest loving heart
But you fell for her ice cold charm
One day she will put you out
For some strutting mastiff stud
Dont bother sniffing all about
For the trail of my long gone love
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere…
“Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said.
Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead
“I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed… been round the block, but not the clock…
One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite…
for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys…
They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick…
need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego?
Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would!
****** hell! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon…
There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon.
So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!” They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily -
Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May, Bette Sheedus, Lovinia ****
I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew -
with things like this going on round here we could all get *******
She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade.
We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade.
It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance…
Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance.
Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon.
Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon?
Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster…
so why not just click...
to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK!
****** hell! The screen’s gone blank…
now I won’t even be able to have a ____
Knock, Knock, Knock!
"Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 5:45 AM UTC
blue dress- it is soft, it shapes around your chest like it's supposed to be there, and you begin shaking with no end in sight
white feather earrings- your face is softened and you remember you don't want to be soft
blue beaded earrings- they match your dress and your dress makes you want to die
bird earrings- they are small and bright and you curl up on the floor and wonder which parts of you are real
moon and star earrings- they are small and pale and no one but you can ever see
sun earrings- you shiver and don't think anything
blue crystal earrings- they are the strongest form of feminine you have ever had, and you remember buying these from a street vendor, holding them like some strong piece of the world belonged to you
peace symbol earrings- they are small but familiar enough to be recognized and you feel sick in your throat, your face, every part of you that accepted peace is aching, you want to tear it out
blue stones and dangling silver hoops- these make you look like a woman, which is a familiar future you have been told of, and you realize just because you understand it doesn't mean you want it
dangling iridescent gems- these make you look like a girl, she would love them on you, and you decide to give them to her before you remember she's changed, now you don't know what to do with them
warm colored striped dress- it shows all your bones and still makes you look so soft, you are so, so cold
black feather earrings- these feel like how you used to try to be strong femininely, both of those at the same time, and you tore yourself apart for years not understanding why it was so hard, blaming yourself
black beaded earrings- these make you look like femininity comes easily to you, as you wish it didn't, these seem to belong, as you wish they wouldn't, and these are so heavy, just like everything about this, you are still shaking
silver rose studs- these are small, indistinct, you remember being familiar with this small amount of femininity you thought was necessary, and you twitch violently, something itches, you are hunched
black pants, shirt, jacket- you have a body, in the most abstract sense, and now no reasonable person could call it what they wanted
spider stud- it's small, looks metallic, and delicate yet menacing, like you never could be
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 4:44 AM UTC
Amethyst dew drop
Eyelash down
Full lip up-turned
Pink, glossy, round
Glitzy green sheen
On my half moon lid
Prism bright stud
Like the Luxor crown
Slightly levitating
Pierced, royal, proud
Skin luminating
Glowing from within
Golden, honey, brown sugar
Streams of gold and brown
I dance like a moonbeam
I dance like the sun
I dance like a star in flight
I dance on the run
I won't let a single man
Take this glow from me
He did it once
He did it twice
Three times
Shame on me
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
Quick-draw five card stud
Dealt a bullet on fifth street --
Full house cashes out.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 5:08 AM UTC
13th floor mannequin girl dropped out took a greyhound to Tinsle town
Fredericks of Hollywood, hired her to pose in the window sporting lingerie wigs and gowns
Her parents frowned at the catalog the debutant passed around
The Mississippi tract home chippie
Hates square Timmy he just got in her way
Jocko **** stud turned out to be gay
Schwabs drug store made her mop the candy store floor soda shop, then she wants to live the star is born dream
Twenty-years has passed, now she is a sad old ***** queen
So much for her dreams to be on the Hollywood silver screen...
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
a thrill to my bones
a stud in my nose
a piano jam
he can't eat ham
sometimes it rules
believers are fools
a religious twist
i'm an anarchist
we stopped making sense
despite our diligence
the phone rings
your manner stings
where are you now?
i've searched every cloud
it's blue, it's close
the cat sleeps in boats
scotch on the rocks
it can't read clocks
we ride, we shake
the mug is at stake
"wine and dine"
"me and mine"
the future holds
a sadness untold
the explorer naps
for sheets: his maps
the falcon clutches
it is what it is
celebrate Waitangi Day
a sea away
or maybe three
I don't know.
This stopped making
sense to me.
break the form
glue it with salt
heart smart cookies
1 cup dried cherries
i need you more
she needs it now
it's busy still
hopping on clouds
i searched and searched
to no avail.
the hungry husky
barks and wails.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
Yes she was fragile.
Yes she had a fake smile.
People conjectured her life was a dream come true
Did anyone ever come to ask her out of the blue?
No, her life wasn’t a fairy tale.
For every time she tried to stay happy, she failed
They may call it a castle but it was definitely a jail
Who knew behind the smile was craving,
Inside she was asking for one saving.
Han, you got it right he was just another stud
Trying to take off the petals from the bud The situation was just like a prisoned bird.
As tears rolled down her red cheeks
She wondered what she seeks.
This was not how she wanted it to happen.
For life was even more darkened.
She knew she wasn’t happy,
But she didn’t want to make her life more shabby.
She kept trying to fight that grudge,
And started to live on that chocolate fudge.
This was not what her heart was wanting
Every time she closed her eyes her brain was shouting.
Maybe he wasn’t bad after all
Maybe he didn’t want her to fall.
But it was too late to decide,
Lying in her bed she just wanted to hide.
Life had left her with no option
Maybe it was time for another love adoption.
Yes, she was fragile
Yes she had a fake smile.
She tried! She tried to build that spark,
But she couldn’t, maybe because they had different hearts.
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
Shards of sail staple sky to sea as fingernail-thin boats lean in to the horizon.
The surge of surf converses constantly with the silent shore, urging its message upon the oblivious beach.
My children scramble on the man-made groyne, a facsimile of wild rock, in which they find caves 'with a proper rock on top' (Bea) and 'a hundred miles deep' (Willem).
We are here on bikes, salt wind in our hair, and my *** slowly absorbing moisture from the almost-dry sand as they unburden their youth upon the rocky playground.
And then come the treasures.
A flat shell the size of my palm and worn pearlescent smooth.
A fossil pebble of concentric ingrained ripples.
'Something amazing Mummy,' comes the cry. 'You have to see this stone; the colour of Coca Cola,' shouts my boy.
More treasures emerge and are grafted on to the sandy pile.
Quartz-like lumps and a mussel entangled with tiny seaweed strands and miniature white shells, like micro leaves and hints of feta in a fancy restaurant.
The boy wears welly boots, no socks, and a plastic medal around his neck. 'Batman, Batman, Batman,' comes the cry, while Bea determinedly scans heaven and Earth for jewels to stud her imagination.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
She strolled along the narrow pathway through
the park. Her soft skirt flitting in the breeze,
her long legs smooth and pampered, sandaled feet
took mellow steps under the Springtime sun.
She caught the eye of Fred, who from his book
rose up bespectacled and drank the scene
of one young beauty carried by the breeze,
and thanked the Lord for all His wondrous things.
She noticed that he noticed and she sneered,
disdainfully and crushed him with the lids
of scornful eyes that closed upon his face,
and cursed the womb that birthed this pervert live.
She caught the eye of Tom, whose magazine
dropped to the bench from fingers preening hair,
his lion's gaze devouring this gazelle,
and she took notice of his notice there.
She threw back hair and turned to meet his gaze
with sideways glance, a wink, and half pursed lips,
amazed a stroll from bench to bench could find
a pervert and a stud so side by side.
Both men came to the park to sit and read,
and read indeed, then both, like men, did do
what men so do, and neither differed there,
yet one was deemed a pervert, one a stud.
(C)2014, Christos Rigakos
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
The last feeling pang passes in a gasp
As the cold metal, hot metal
Pierces through that bending
Wind-like flesh.
In a second it will be a
Feature like the hue of eyes
Borne its weight long and steps inside
Its waiting grave.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 3:06 PM UTC