"tantalizingly" poems
I want to play your skin like a violin
Make beautiful music from your moans
As I tantalizingly pluck, pull, and manipulate your strings
Hit those notes and we can play all night long
Our little love song
Get lost in the raptures of our melodies
Entwining bodies
An instrumental of flesh
A rhythm of passion
I want to feel the symphony of your ******
Taste the *** of your concerto
Whole notes, quarter notes, half notes
Sixteenths
I want to hear you scream
When I play your skin
Like a violin.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
It's as if time
Becomes a wisp
Of vapor.
It leaks from my memory
And distorts my concept
Of concept itself.
Floating through a place
Filled with clouds of
Creamy crystals
Being grasped by their
Seductive claws,
Tantalizingly slow,
A shudder.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute.
Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away..
nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her..
skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze.
Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release.
Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon.
The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion.
She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly,
tantalizingly slow,
causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all..
he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her
hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation..
She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted.
She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again.
His embrace hard, intense
his iron will dominating her.
Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again.
Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance
she embraced him.
Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love,
melding bodies together,
as they fall endlessly in the abyss.
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 9:04 PM UTC
There's this mermaid girl I knew once.
She had long blonde hair,
and she smoked tobacco under water.
She defies the laws of the universe.
She had deep green eyes
that screamed the names of lonely sailors.
I hear they got lost in her eyes,
so lost no nautical device could guide them away.
Her ******* were covered by shells.
Sea shells that glowed their gratitude as they lay on her chest.
I hear she moved exactly like the ocean, or maybe the ocean mimicked her.
When I heard her voice,
it was like bubbles.
Like bubbles that begin at the bottom of the sea and run through the water to so delicately burst on the top.
But even delicate bubbles have capacity for violence.
We, they, you, have reverence for a voice they tell stories about.
Her face shone like the ripples of light at sunset that stunned the sailors in awe.
Her hands, smooth like pearls.
Her lips, tantalizingly terrifyingly beautiful as all the reefs the wrecked the ships.
I knew a mermaid girl once. She had long blonde hair and she smoked tobacco underwater.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
People build million dollars homes
Far away from the city dwellers
To be free from ordinary folks
Are well known loners
They even tried to own the high sea
Unfortunately, it belongs to all nation and mankind
It’s known as freedom and seafaring power to all
In hopes of a segregation
without the unnecessary advocating
they build swimming pools;
and Bob wire fences
It’s hard for many of us to create duplicates of heaven
Without the approval of the mighty one
These efforts would remain tantalizingly and unreachable
Like the keys to the golden gates;
Some of the loners that goes down to the depth of the ocean
To do business in the water, have failed miserably
after they have seen the works of the all mighty
However, with all their money and the power
They is no escaping from your neighbors
There is only one thing that separated us
is death
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Kiss me,
So I may drown in this amorous affair,
Savoring the delicious taste,
Of your lips against my own.
Hold me,
Your arms clasped around,
My petite body,
Skin touching skin,
Finding warmth in your blanket,
Of security and adoration,
Burrowing into the flowing fabric,
Of your embrace.
Never let me go,
I yearn to hear the inhales,
And exhales of your breath;
You glance at me,
Chuckling in delight,
As your thoughts turn,
To how enchanting you view me to be.
Caress me,
Allowing your firm hands to explore,
The slight curves,
Of a soft feminine exterior,
Yearning for the stroke,
Of your fingertips upon me.
Does love not knock upon the door,
Of your innermost chamber?!
Listen Please,
Silence your scattered thoughts,
Allowing you to hear,
The lulling seductive melody,
Depicting the presence of Eros,
In the heat of the night.
I shall pray you stay,
With fingers tightly interlacing,
For the fates bestow us,
With a blessing,
Perhaps a curse,
Receiving a bond to unite us.
An illicit connection,
In the eyes of others,
Yet I behold my desire,
For you as a dragonfly,
Mysterious and ancient,
A beautiful creature,
Existing almost as long,
As the sands of time,
Flying among the earth,
To be free.
Breathe me in,
Granting me the chance,
To enter your body,
Mind and soul,
Engrossing our spirits,
To complete the other,
Through gazing into,
The eyes of the other.
Cherish me,
As our lips encounter,
Passionately nibbling,
As they collide in portrayal,
Of our irrevocable love,
Tantalizingly sweet
As the Riesling rests,
Within my wine glass,
Tempting me to consume,
Pleasure through the delicious taste,
Awaiting for me.
Reminding me of the same reasons,
I crave you,
My beloved.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:00 AM UTC
.
***trees dance
sway insatiably
stirring tantalizingly ...
exposing
invisible secrets
blowin' the winds***
wild is the wind
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
This is the dangerous part-
When the dark shadows withdraw
To the deepest recesses of my mind
And I forget why I bid "adieu"
To you.
This is when the bruises
Fade.
The blood stains
Wash away.
The heart ache
Delays.
And the mirage begins.
The paradise pressed against my parchment skin
And dehydrated lips-
So tantalizingly sweet
So pure and pristine
As it slips down my callused throat
Though they say
arsenic tastes the same.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
The stars are beautiful from the beach-
Especially on this moonless night
Bright and sparkling, every pinpoint
Reflected on the black water,
Dancing with the soft motion
Of windswept waves
The same sea breeze tousling my hair
They look almost close enough to touch
To reach out and pluck
Right from the inky black bay
To hold like some errant firefly
Far from home
Standing upon the silken sand
Feeling it work its way between my toes
I begin to walk toward the lights
A siren call beating within my brain
Just a little closer…
Quickly
The waves lap at my feet
The soft caress of the water
Gentle and welcoming
Another step, another step
My intrusion rippling against the break
Stars dancing farther from my fingers
Still so tantalizingly close
Just a little closer…
Farther, deeper
The warm silk of the bay
Enveloping me like
A lover’s arms
A mother’s hug
Comforting and calming
Almost there, just a little more…
My feet no longer touch
The shifting sands below
Yet still
I move forward
Borne away by the tide
Floating, fighting to grasp
Just one burning pinprick
Of starlight
To feel its warmth within my palm
Just a little closer…
Floundering, fishing for
One final, futile touch
(I’m sinking)
Arms outstretched
Reaching toward those
Teasing
Tantalizing
Stars
No longer sure where they lie
(And oh, they lie)
Surf or sky
And still they sing
Just a little closer…
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Summer fever
runs through my veins
I'm sick of school.
GET ME OUT OF HERE.
Being an overachiever
at my grades has long since past.
The promise of freedom is tantalizingly
close but still so far
I make promises to visit friends that I might mean
but know I won't keep.
The last day seems as if it blows by
And suddenly,
Victory! Libre! FREEDOM!
I'm gone.
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 11:47 PM UTC
*Sun drenched wild grass, in an ecstatic swirling dance-
didn't forget to tell this boldly to her lover, eager to please her:
"gentle breeze, how tantalizingly you caress and titillate,
but to tell the truth, I'll long still, for a robust wind, an ace pollinator."*
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
I'm so afraid you'll be the kind of guy to say "I love you" in the exact right way at the exact right time when the candles are fizzing in their own puddles, never glancing at that piece of tantalizingly soft pale skin right above my slightly sagging purple velvet dress, opening all the doors and paying for all our insanely expensive dinners at Olive Garden-
the kind of guy that will never keep me waiting for more than three minutes-
or say that no, you'd rather have cheese pizza because you secretly don't like pepperoni even though you know I love it, and I don't know what to say because
that's the kind of guy I've always wanted and it would be silly to think that I would love if once,
just once,
you would be the kind of guy that forgot my birthday until the last minute and gave me his sock as a gift.
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:28 PM UTC
A small note attached to the small toe of the not yet dead woman
It read of sorrow and peace as she lay there still breathing
To why was she spread upon the iron table with eyes the color of coins
Displayed, surrounded by mirrors and windows ***** and unbreakable
Not a whimper slipped from her mouth as the small knife slit into her
Tearing the silk gown with precision of an artist,
the butcher masqueraded itself as husband
Emerald eyes shed no tears, reflexes halt to an end, an acceptance was reached
In her hands held a relic, one of the past and future. The piece was a watch
Ticking, counting down each second of breath. Belief in release the ******** death
Feeling of pleasure with each cut, the teasing texture of blood cascading downwards
How tantalizingly horrific the scene of sacrifice; a modern day alter
Rested upon rusted roses and sweet thorns the alive child laid
Silence for she has given voice to the goddess and the body to the God
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
Love, love, love
It runs so deep like the roots of a tree
Connecting together
A flower attracting a bee
Love, love, love
Runs so deep
Heals you and cleans you
The way alcohol does a wounded knee
Love, love, love
You will see
When my gramma looks at me
Love, love, love
smells so good
My grammas baked goods
My grammas pillow case
My grammas hair
And her whole face
Love, love, love
It's everywhere
From the smile formed with her lips
And the softness of her strong gramma hips
To the apron that she wears
And the so tantalizingly familier scent my mother shares
Because
Love, love, love
Paves the way
It will never lead you astray
Love, love, love
It runs so deep like the roots of a tree
It is embedded in you the way it's embedded in me
Love, love, love
Has us entangled
From the inside of beating hearts
To the dirt under the earth.
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
it is a day of sunshine,
yet i am chained
to a desk.
balancing budgets.
but oh! how the sun calls.
it whispers,
sweet, slices of
watermelon dreams,
in to my ears.
it murmurs, bubbling
brooks of tantalizingly,
**** homemade
lemon-limeade.
it talks, incessently
of mangos, eaten warm
and straight from
the skin...
it beckons me, to sin,
to walk barefoot, across
forbidden grass...
to the sand...to the sea
oh! how the
springtime sun
beckons me....
yet,
here i sit,
admist budget misery....
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
I am neither
a war trophy
and indulgence
nor a hobby.
Because I live in a country
where women are no longer
legal property of their husbands,
I am, as of current
unavailable for mail order
due to the radically progressive
notion, that took years decades centuries
to develop
that a human female is, as a matter
of fact, a human.
You can, for a vicarious experience
leer at me
like cheap jewelry
then, appalled, denounce me
as too ugly for your usage
when I give the implication
that I am sentient.
And of course, I must be modest
Lest my tantalizingly average looks
provoke some poor man
into committing a crime
against humanity.
I dated some glassy-eyed narcissist
a while back
in a regrettable period of youth,
who indulgently stated
that his three favorite things
in the world
were food, music
and women.
(Charmed to be a novelty)
And a privileged, modern woman like me
Shouldn’t mind being consumed
like a pain-staking meal prepared
especially for him,
Or replaced in his tri-annual rotation
like the discovery of a new favorite song.
I continue to be
a favorite
thing, as somehow in 2012
the term “feminist”
continues to be the social equivalent
of “kitten strangler.”
And because my father
can no longer sell me
for a flock of sheep,
I no longer need to be more human.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:18 PM UTC
Every night,
chosen stars abandon their authorized positions
dancing tantalizingly through a universe;
splashing blues and violets
a fancifully dramatic canvas;
and finally explode
to unknown masses of reds;
showering another vulnerable heart...
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
i remember the slow down
the instant of undesirability
to creativity
didn't dare want him coming near me
i'd hide
praying for his rush to subside
though i never looked to become Sarah and deliver him to my handmaiden
rather that he'd remain
backed up
but in my bed all the same
now i seek him out
it's like my hormones have changed
and i call to him
requesting his blessing
hoping
even now that he would come minister to me
i woo him with my scent
dancing tantalizingly
awaiting the moment he'll grip me at my hips
be wind
gently overpowering
and blow in
to probe and to penetrate
to KNOW
to relate
with more than my core
my totality
and he'll never experience these waters running dry
no
only them running.
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 9:57 AM UTC
i'd like to rip out a chunk of each of you
tantalizingly slow, i'll dig my dirt crusted finger tips into your flesh
never breaking eye contact as one after the other
you squirm and beg for mercy
i'll take needles, thick and crusted with rust,
and piece together a patchwork of my broken hearts
watch as all of the things i miss most become one
i'll stare at my conglomerate of lovers and will
find myself swooning the way i often do over all of you,
only this time i won't fear the cavernous plunge to come
how could the most beautiful pieces of all the
men i've ever loved scorn me?
i'll just have to put up with the stench of decomposition
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
How does one feel when they glimpse
the pure night sky?
Alone,
Enthralled,
Fascinated,
Questioning,
And yet,
Dismal.
For we see only half, of the whole truth.
What stars?
I have seen the stars,
This is not their irradiant glory,
This is a poor semblance,
A portrayal of our Ignorance.
We cannot see
The stars,
By our own hands we have blinded ourselves,
From the single-most
Awe-inspiring,
Demoralizing,
Ego-diminishing experience,
And it shows.
Constantly busying ourselves,
we fail to make time to gaze skyward and
dwell,
When you look at the sky, you are
Forced to question.
Those who do not look,
Do not question,
Those who do not question,
Accept,
And those who accept,
are blind.
Blind,
Deaf,
And dumb.
Led here,
Led there,
From pasture to pasture.
Fed ideas like they’re kibble,
And the dogs are hungry.
It’s a dangerous thing,
to gaze up,
There is always the chance
Of choking
On your own existence.
How will we awaken the masses
From their eternal slumber?
A difficult task when
their heads lull ,
from the self-induced hypnosis.
The light is what we need,
And they stars,
They give it.
But we drown it out,
and substitute it with
the eternal hum of the artificial glow.
Deprivation,
The population thrives on it.
Honestly,
I would be stunned,
Nay, terrified,
If every mind awoke to the reality,
of the vast insignificance.
You can hear the minds imploding.
You can feel the torrent
of individual thought.
Danger.
Terror threat level Severe,
Burning red.
I have seen the stars,
Filling every void in the infinite blackness,
Radiating their celestial secrets,
Tantalizingly close to revelation,
Yet lost in translation.
You find your true self,
When alone with the stars,
No one except,
Your thoughts.
Oh,
what a dangerous place to be,
Floating somewhere between consciousness,
and stellar knowledge.
Will you rise to the Astral Summons?
Seek respite
from the electron hum,
Find yourself under the endless
luminous canopy,
And question.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
You chew on my skin with smooth teeth.
You **** on my salty thoughts
Of tear-stained pages. Can’t you taste
Their tangy terror as you twirl them around
And around
Your caressing tongue?
I love your lips and when your teeth move across them
And when your fingertips brush them
Like moth wings.
Are you thinking?
Are you thinking about me?
“Think about me.” I tell you. Can you hear me?
Hold me in your hands, pockets, mind, bleached skull, coal heart, the warm upper palette of your midnight mouth.
I hate your lips
When they whisper sweet ********
When they spit out my name
Like something with a bitter taste.
You can scream at me across rooftops, or strip me down until I am nothing
But truth and lies
And scarred bones
But I shall always be here, laying tantalizingly near.
With my smile sultry
And my pupils peeking,
Leaking into yours where you can never push me away.
Remember, babe, my kisses left scars
On your jugular.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
I look at the picture
And I see her hair
Dark
Black
Cascading down the sides of her face like a black churning waterfall
Black
A deep black
So deep it drags me into her charmfulness
But this is not what catches my eyes
I see her beautiful eyes
Cast in an enchanting gaze
As if she can see farther than us all
The shadows perfectly frame her eyes
And that tiny dot of reflection within seems to be the gateway to the most intricately beautiful soul ever
But this is not what catches my eye
I see her full luscious lips
Covered in lavish red lipstick
Her lips are slightly parted as she seems to yearn for something
The sense of earnestness about her multiplied tenfold
Just by parted lips
But this is not what catches my eye
I see her left shoulder exposed by her shirt that elegantly shows her subtle skin tone
Her black hair juxtaposed perfectly next to her dark olive brown skin
Her shoulder tantalizingly flaunts its beauty to the world
Daring any and all to defy her beauty
But this is not what catches my eye
No
What catches my eye is her neck...
The black waterfall of hair
The bright reflection of her soulful eyes
The vivaciously earnest red lips
The tantalizing olive brown shoulder
Combine to form what I have come to think of as a Goddess of beauty on this earth
They all seem to point to her neck and show where her true beauty lies for me
It makes me realise that this time it's different
I could run my hand through her hair a million times
I could stare into her soulful eyes for hours
I coukd kiss her beautiful lips a million times
I could carress her flawlessly smooth shoulder until I form calluses
But I would forgo all of that if she would just let me rest my head on her shoulder
Against her neck
Where I would feel safe
And enough
And adequate
And beautiful
Yes
Indeed
It is her neck that catches my eye
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 4:18 PM UTC
I look at the picture
And my gaze falls upon your hair
Dark
Black
Hair that cascades down the sides of your face like a black churning waterfall
Black
A deep black
So deep it drags me into the embrace of your ravishing beauty...
...but this is not what commands my gaze.
I look at the picture
And my gaze falls upon your eyes
Sparkling
Riveting
Eyes that enchant me
The dark shadows of that perfectly frame your eyes
Highlight the tiny dot of contrast within
That seems to be the gateway to the most intricately beautiful soul
That I have ever had the blessing to bear witness to...
...but this is not what commands my gaze.
I look at the picture
And my gaze falls upon your lips
Lucious
Red
Lips slightly parted
As you seem to yearn for something
Your sense of vivacious earnestness
Multiplied tenfold
Just by those subtly parted lips...
...but this is not what commands my gaze.
I look at the picture
And my gaze falls upon your shoulder
An elegant
Subtle
Olive-brown skin tone perfectly juxtaposed against your charcoal black hair
Your shoulder tantalizingly flaunts itself
Daring!
Any and all
To defy your beauty...
...but this is not what commands my gaze.
No.
What commands my gaze is your neck.
Your black waterfall of churning hair
Your bright soulful eyes
Your vivacious earnest red lips
Your tantalizingly olive-brown shoulder
All combine to form
An absolute
GODDESS
of beauty
They all point towards your neck
They all seem to show me where your true beauty lies
It makes me realize that this time it's different
I could run my hand through your churning black hair a million times
I could get lost in your soulful gaza day after day
I could kiss your lavish lips every second of my day
I could carress the flawless perfection of your shoulder until my hands foem calluses
But...
I would forego all of that
If you would but let me rest my head on your shoulder
Against your neck...
Where I wouls feel safe
And enough
And strong
And adequate
And beautiful
Yes
Indeed
It is your neck that commands my gaze
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC
The Fresh blood still warm on my hands
My mind is swimming in a sweltering sea of sordid sensations
I find myself (or shall I say I search?)
[I] search for this self [I] naively presuppose amidst quite a convoluted calamity
This assuefaction will not do!
I must **** myself, and start anew!
I must violently press forward!
I will hurl myself into the chaotic clasps of Erebus to avoid this cold, dead sediment
This cold, dead past.
Your cold, dead eyes
Your tantalizingly tepid tone
***** you wish to take me from myself
You would strip me of my subjectivity
You would **** me, but I'm not for you
I must **** myself and start anew
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
No one ever plans on getting addicted
*It's just for ***** and gigs in the summer*
Until your Time derails and redefines horrific
now presenting: Time, Version 10-50
and she's prolifically sadistic
Oh & never forsake:
Time's strung out alongside you,
***Every.
Single.
Hit.***
And she's one haphazardly twisted
tantalizingly commited mistress
--Also, it seems we were just now informed
that it's way past Christmas.
Now a hot mess,
forlorn & seditious
Not to mention royally ******
by Mistress Time, still for sure
a 10-50 in progress
Needless to tell you,
we contradicted our predictions
Now Mistress Time's
throwing an egregious conniption
even though I know hearing
Self-Inflicted
makes for turned cheeks and Alienation,
Exigently,
if you please
I'm in dire need
of someone else's Time
To assist in the Valediction
of this debilitating infliction
so innocently called Addiction
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC