"suggestively" poems
I still remember you
I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give.
Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me.
I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence.
You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips.
I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is.
To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body...
To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck
I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair:
your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs.
My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release,
long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter.
But most of all I long to be loved again.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
This poem casts a line from insomnia to morning
On the wind of a prayer that whatever bites, holds on.
See I have counted eleven score and ten,
with rainbow like curves of my neck -
contemptuous beasts leaping in formation
each bleating out a preach of vague platitudes;
A narrative for the night sky.
My hands clamour at keys for escape
until I tumble headfirst into a web so vast
it has ensnared the whole world wide -
millennials are living in-ter-net over in-the-world;
a new ultraviolence against humanity.
I beat my words into the screen until it breaks;
shattering scarlet emoticons like confetti
pouring over language as if it were a compliment.
My mind massages shapeless polypous thoughts
like tight constricted muscles aching for release.
3am casts these philosophies into horses,
whipping them into shape and speed
before the eyes of this statuesque ******
This anxious wakefulness begs my manic self to dance;
suggestively ********* tickets to ride like cleavage.
Sleep is fast becoming a neglected former engagement;
as my mind trips over fallen heroes
wades through my favourite mistakes
in a wonderland unfolding faster than I can fall
while the world beyond my window remains dark.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
The antique shop,
a cauldron where memories
from far and near boil and froth,
where chronological order
didn't matter, time stood still,
part real, as much magic,
different lives from distant lands and time
rolled in to one.
Here they met, by chance,a man
and a mysterious woman,with an eye for unusual,
among what was on display were
things a conman would seek
and also favorite stuff fit for kings,
artifacts and articles they must have used
or hankered after.
Past uses these museum pieces
as baits for us, secretly preparing us
to surrender before future,
unkind and rude in mind;
he changed roles as both con and king,
there was a constant yes,
she was the mate in each
he couldn't take eyes off her,
and she asked what he looks for,
"The famous ****** quilt,
that was to be mine twice before,
I missed making it mine,
narrowly every time"
He wondered how did he
make up that story so quick.
"I can take you to the quilt,
but it isn't here" she said
not a bit hesitant
He was flabbergasted by
the turn of events,as if
a hidden scripted move shows the way
They left by her car,
she was eloquent about
the effects of the ****** quilt.
As they stood near the ****** quilt,
in this room he thought was part
of an antique shop, the place looked deserted,
and her eyes shone when she suggestively said
"Want to test the effect? Don't be disappointed"
It wasn't. How could one imagine, that
the quilt can be so voluptuous.
That secret shook him out of his shell,
she had nothing to do with antique of any kind,
just another visitor like him, and the quilt
was an ingenious plot she hatched
in keeping with my sudden flourish,
the quilt, was a new addition in her bed
patch worked in silk, light weight,
it wasn't a blanket, but ****** in its very touch
it was them, the moment of adventure they found
had brought the rapture,who would regret?
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Carrying your name forward
on a silver stein raft
with the wreckage of me
I long to crave,
mouth agape, eyes watering proof
I long to crave,
my deciduous vulnerability flashed wide upon when you’re there
I long to crave,
your sweet nectar lips dipped in honey;
have a taste of your
white chocolate
lava cake
I long to crave,
to stare into the openness of your porcelaina doll face
I long to crave,
look through the window to your soul through
your nebulaic eyes.
I long to crave,
Suggestively suggestive advice from you to me to you
I long to crave,
My lover dreamer’s dream
I long to crave,
My tinder streak
keeping me warm
I long to crave,
the shoulder to lean on
in my darkest hours
I long to crave,
The person I want to be beside
When I’m at my most beautiful.
I long to crave,
Oh, how I long to crave ?
My undying longing to crave.
You.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
See
I was about to leave
but then you looked at me.
I felt it a challenge.
Suggestively
the beast in me
was roused.
******
I needed to taste your courage.
I needed to wrap my hands
around your passive aggression,
grasp your hot air..
I needed to feed off your energy
I needed your soul to
inhale it and make it mine
*******
You told me so with your eyes.
I needed
to see.
And now
I'll never leave.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
Why are you appealing to me-
Stimulating my ****** desire
tending to arouse evil with inside
Me- You
Us
Identical-
Suggestively I've laid out
flowery perfumed petal
trailing to the bedroom
I've characterized you
by obscenity's & indecency's
you've already let me get away with
**** vivacious recipient-
eluding the lubricious
embraces of
my prurient thought.
Thigh high boots
Whips Creme & chains
Swing chair done up tight to the ceiling,
Lubrications lotions & potions,
Candlelit flickers
as
Our
silhouette's merge into
Identical
mirrored image
You- Me
Mingling
Melting- the little death
becomes
Us!
Identical........
Always me Ayeshah
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
Your eyes gulp down milkshakes of galaxies;
clusters of God’s Christmas lights he forgot
to take down, you tell me, stretched like
gossamer skin against the roof of time
without end as you howl, spinning through
the breath of pooling waves in particle showers
of joy, the ghostly hue of dawn hovering
suggestively just beyond the curve of the world
and you laugh at the speed this pretty rock
is hurtling through yawning nothing as you
shout challenges to the monsters roaring in the
deep.
The primordial soup inside your head is cooling
now as shadow waves curl like butter across the
alien toast of hard packed sand and you sit
offering up prayers to Pisces as morning feasts
on the stars.
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 4:11 AM UTC
It is raised a corpulent Spirit,
dangling it legs suggestively,
over the abyss of national identity,
an ideological state apparatus, BANG!
Mind the gap of danger when boarding and alighting trains.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
when our mind is full of great ideas
we want to write them down
yet there are times when we discover
that there is no connection from our brain
to all the instruments we use
to transcribe our flighty thoughts
to give them shape on paper, screen, or in the sand
sometimes it helps to pause a bit and reconsider
what we do really want to say
focus and concentrate
articulate precisely yet suggestively
our indomitable urge to formulate
the turmoil of emotions we may harbor
our wild ideas of revolution
the overbearing pain of loss and separation
grey landscapes of depression
attractions of dramatic suicide
also the joy and pleasures of deep love
of unexpected friendships found
where even angels fear to tread
the happiness of our children
the love we recognize
often too late
our parents have bestowed on us
et cetera et cetera
the catalogue of our themes
expands through our lives
so do the challenges
of how to tell the tale
it helps to aim for clarity
we have to let our instruments of writing know
which of our turbulently swirling thoughts
should earn the privilege
to become words
and be communicated
to people who
before they read our verse
have no idea at all
that we exist
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
*A shifting veil of shadows
filled my vision
as if requiring breath aimlessly.
I drew fire into my veins
as my suitor,
when I sought out release.
Looking down upon the back
of my fingers
Warm contentment followed hopefully.
Picking up my hand,
understanding flamed
this fire in me.
A caress pledged half a dream.
Bit my lip suggestively.
Sweet and gentle touches
became phantoms
of hope,
welcoming in, seductive pleas.
Instinct wrapped around a veil
of shadows.
Found everything ever wanted.
Desire left kisses
on my brow,
whispered cries that taunted.
My soul gazed pleasures
state of mind,
took a deep breath of me.
Drawing fire into my veins
as my suitor,
I gave myself...shamelessly.*
Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 3:00 PM UTC
To feel her warm and gentle hand
upon your smiling face,
her tender loving caress is like
a sweet and soothing grace.
Teasing, as your fingers
trace a tantalizing trek
along her silken stockings
as you tenderly kiss her neck.
Gazing into enchanting eyes
so deep with dark desire,
whirling pools of life and lust,
dancing in dangerous fires.
A hint of honey on lips so full
and a warm and willing sigh,
a teasing tongue slips slowly across
crimson curves, daring to defy.
Inhaling her sweet
and succulent scent,
as she moans and leans in close,
so delicately sweet;
so soft and gentle,
a shimmering summer rose.
The susurrant sound
of her breathless voice
as she whispers into your ear,
her words so soft
and suggestively sweet,
yet unmistakably clear.
She rises slowly
and takes your hand
with a beckoning
tilt of her head,
leading you away
to the far off lands
waiting warmly
within her soft bed.
Wherever she leads
with her sultry smile,
you will willingly
welcome the chase,
just to feel her warmth
and wallow within
misty moments,
of a lovers embrace.
Written by Darren Scanlon, 1st March 2015.
Revised 25th July 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
The silent drives with music and wind in my ears remind me of all the places that I've been without you.
That time in the mountains of Idaho, walking hand in hand with a boy whose name escapes even my most concentrated memory.
He was too shy to make a move but when I said he could kiss me if he didn't try to **** me he was all too eager to roll around in the needles on the forest floor.
That green holiday filled with fools gold and cheap beer when I was bored and found myself on the side of that ****** house pushing her into the panels with my kiss, wrapping my hands around her waist, venturing beneath her shirt.
The hot Florida sun beating the white powder of my skin until it turned bronze, and when my neighbor eyed me suggestively I remember closing my eyes and thinking of him alone in my bed that night.
Home in the midnight hours, running across Broadway, doubling over with laughter as we found Chaos and entertained her until we made it home to sleep on the hardwood floor of my unfurnished apartment.
Sitting alone in the shade above the waterfall, surrounded by the trees dancing with one another to the beat of the trains loud roar. I wrote my first hatred of you there.
The first and only kiss with a stranger who stumbled into me that night at the bar while I was bent over in my red dress shooting pool.
The tiny sparkle in his silly blue eyes and grin of a child made me laugh, and we still imagine what would happen if we were ever in the same part of the country again.
But we're still on this silent drive surrounded by the Cascades and my hair is blowing in my face. I see a smile grace your lips and I wonder if it will be like this forever, or maybe I'll find myself untied again, holding freedom by the reigns.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
forage through
my carrots polish my tomato
smile as you suggestively
swallow the banana
devour all the
sour cream
on the red hot long
burrito
gulp the vanilla
ice cream
smile shyly
when I get a taste of pie.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
It’s early night and I am at her place
I am lying on the roof and looking at the stars
And thinking of The Milky Way
And other distant galaxies.
She’s out at a party
Probably dancing with other boys
And cussing me out to her friends
Telling them how much she hates that I am a recluse
And that all I want to do is sit at home.
She’s such a flirt,
She’s smoking hot and she knows it
She leads the boys on, she smiles at them suggestively,
Sometimes grabs them on the ***
I’ve seen her do it a couple of times.
It’s late night and I am still at her place
I am still lying on the roof and still looking at the stars.
I light a cigarette,
It is my 2nd of the night.
Just then I hear someone walk in,
She's back.
She spots me and hollers out to me
What are you doing up there, crazy? Come down and sit with me, won’t you?
And I watch her as she walks in
Kicking her heels off at the door.
I’m lying in bed with her
She has a big smile on her face
As she tells me
Where she went
Who she danced with
Who tried to kiss her
And what she drank,
But I am not the least bit interested.
She takes her clothes off
And then mine
The *** is good, as always
But it is different.
It is slow
And intimate,
It feels like I am ******* a sad and lonely woman.
She falls asleep
With her head on my chest.
I gently place a pillow below her head,
I walk out of the room
Out of the house
And up on the roof
Again.
I sit on the edge,
My legs dangling,
I light a cigarette and wait.
The only thing is
I don't know what I'm waiting for.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 6:13 AM UTC
Suggestively selecting songs serenading sweet-sixteeners.
Saying soft somethings.
Supporting satanic systems.
Sweeping sonnets.
Slang symphonies.
Symposium suspended.
Goodnight.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
My thoughts flow, words
My dreams come and go, script delay
My hands touch, hoping they stay
Letters curve so slightly, sensual
Serifs barely touch, hesitate
Testing the boundaries of space, flirting
Lyrics weave my tousled hair, joining sound waves
Make their way in, touching me
Coursing alongside my thin veins, pressure
Fall swiftly down my arteries, suggestively flood my soul
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
Tilly got back from her uncle's
place in Richmond, and her mother
said, I hope you left your uncle's
place tidy and not in a mess? Tilly
nodded her head, and said, yes it
is tidy as I found it, and Uncle was
pleased and said thank you for
looking after the place while he
was away. Her mother scrutinized
her. So what did you do while you
were there? Had a good look around
Richmond, sat in the park, watched
Uncle's TV, went to bed.(She then
visualized Benny in bed with her
and they having it away). I went to
Richmond once, her mother said,
unsmiling even at a memory, too
crowded, too many people. I liked
it, Tilly said,(pushing from her mind
she and Benny ********** in front
of each other slowly and suggestively).
Didn't meet anyone you knew there,
I suppose? her mother said, unpacking
Tilly's bag with soiled washing and
the odd girly thing. No of course not,
well apart from Uncle, Tilly replied,
trying not to think of she and Benny
walking hand in hand in the park and
French kissing). Well you are back now,
and have work tomorrow, so best have
a bath, and I will put these things in
the wash, and her mother went off,
and Tilly thought of she and Benny
in the bath together and washing each
other, and afterwards having *** again
and needing to bath once more. Work
tomorrow, she mused, O what a bore.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
Student to Master:
Revered Master, please tell me why I am so unhappy.
Reply: From your tone and posture, so suggestively
this I can say unreservedly:
it's because you have taken yourself too seriously.
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 3:32 AM UTC
always wondering if you like me;
though the answer is quite plain to see
by the way you stare so longingly
at that girl sat suggestively upon your knee.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
A Siren’s Song
*is heard crashing upon this shore.
It travels on an ocean breeze,
floating on the sea’s mist
while dazzled by
rotating stars
as they wander through
this endless night.*
*Like Ulysses,
I cling to the mast,
tie myself to the undulation
of her sensual song
enticing
pulling
calling
me to join her
on the waves
of a starry midnight gaze;
tempting
teasing
swaying suggestively
to follow her song
into the ocean’s
mystery and depth,
into sweet oblivion
and a sailor’s blissful death.*
Aztec Warrior 9.10.15
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 10:13 AM UTC
Sacred sepulchre, steeped in sombre silence,
Secret sanctuary, scarcely a sound,
Sisters sleep serenely, secluded and skyless,
Sibilance simmering! Snoring and snoozing,
Sapphic sisters, summoned from slumber…
Sensational ********** Sudden and shuddering!
Shattering silence! Shuttering sanctity!
Squeaking and squealing! Squelching and squeezing!
Seamstresses ********** slotted slits slithering,
Squashing the scripture, smearing and smothering.
Sex-starved ********** Searing and savage!
Shuffling sisters - Seduced and salacious!
Sapphic Salvation - Spit! Salivation!
Submissively spearheading: same-sex spanking,
Summiting sweetly - Spectacular squirting!
Sanctified sisters, sighing suggestively,
Suspecting scripture, surmising sagely,
Sectarian schisms - Shameful and senseless?
Sapphic sermons, signal the Sabbath,
Seraphic sisters, snuggling sweetly,
Sink soothingly into synergy.
Jun 26, 2025
Jun 26, 2025 at 1:51 PM UTC
Progressively progressing towards
Aggressively repressing thoughts
Obsessively ingesting medication
Only to
Suggestively request more
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
With gorgeous, silky, wavy hair
Sparkling eyes that you wouldn't dare
to look away, for she
is Aphrodite.
Dainty hands, oiled so sweetly
Her mouth moves beautifully,
smiling cunningly with brains
that remains
etched into your mind,
never far behind.
A voice that coos and whispers
suggestively into your ears.
Pulling you in
like silk upon your skin.
Delivering messages you long
to hear, even if it's wrong.
For she is the goddess of love;
You will fall, indeed. From high above.
You thought you were strong?
Oh no, honey, you're wrong.
Even the strongest heroes
have kneeled to the throes
of love. So how could a mere
mortal like you would sneer
at what she could do?
People have died because of love. It's true.
She twists your mind
all around,
become her slave, yes,
it's a beautiful mess.
With her perfect body,
curves in all the right places. Even I'd readily
jump out just to feel her godly touch.
For love, it's never too much.
Her whole being embraces
what romance could do to people in places.
Whether it's your mind or anatomy,
she revels in being your enemy.
For she is love, and she knows
that this is what you chose.
It is love and
she has won.
-m.b
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 11:45 AM UTC