"teased" poems
She must have been kicked unseen or brushed by a car.
Too young to know much, she was beginning to learn
To use the newspapers spread on the kitchen floor
And to win, wetting there, the words, "Good dog! Good dog!"
We thought her shy malaise was a shot reaction.
The autopsy disclosed a rupture in her liver.
As we teased her with play, blood was filling her skin
And her heart was learning to lie down forever.
Monday morning, as the children were noisily fed
And sent to school, she crawled beneath the youngest's bed.
We found her twisted and limp but still alive.
In the car to the vet's, on my lap, she tried
To bite my hand and died. I stroked her warm fur
And my wife called in a voice imperious with tears.
Though surrounded by love that would have upheld her,
Nevertheless she sank and, stiffening, disappeared.
Back home, we found that in the night her frame,
Drawing near to dissolution, had endured the shame
Of diarrhoea and had dragged across the floor
To a newspaper carelessly left there. Good dog.
146.4k
i am innocent
i am not a ******
i have not been stripped of my innocence
i have been stripped
and teased
and pleasured
i'd love to see the look on a republicans face when i say
*** is fun
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
Yesterday you teased me
Which is a big no-no
I tease boys they don't tease me.
You want to stay dominate and that's what you're fighting for
But me it's for Revenge, not Dominance.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
No Romance,
just the way
you liked it.
Just the way
You ripped off
Your dress
And left me to
romanticize it
balled up
on my floor
Just the way
you teased and
denied
my poetic soul
You said it
felt so foreign
Like you were
never worthy
of the prose
You left me
Writhing and
Alone
and
I know
you know
You’re not perfect
I just wanted
you to feel
like a goddess
I worshiped
beyond words
even if you didn't
believe in something.
Believe me,
I did my best not to be
bitter
But your cynicism
was never ****
No one cares
What you don't
Like
You would
look into the
Grand Canyon
and just see a void.
Avoiding
the obviously
numinous
Like where
your heart
was
Before it was
split with a river
streaming your
constantly
pessimistic
consciousness.
Maybe I was too sweet
finishing last
like a nice guy
that you just
left salty
To
slide
down
the
throat
of your
thesis statement:
NO ROMANCE
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Breathing in your alluring scent
Enjoying the ride, as the wheels go round
Cherishing the times we have spent
Smiling to our 'question', an answer we have found
This romantic attraction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Having simple meals together
Indulging in chucklesome little talks
Laughing cheekily, we teased each other
Ambling along the smooth sidewalks
This deep affection
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Fulfilling your heart's desire
Appreciating your genuine kindness
Seeing you smile from ear to ear
Bringing back the long lost happiness
This sweet satisfaction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Cuddling in your loving arms
Holding back my tears
Embracing me with your hidden charms
Taking away all my fears
This perfect expression
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Endless hours of committed effort,
which frequently felt unrecognised and unappreciated.
Deep down in your desireful soul,
you teased yourself with ambitious day dreams.
The incentive of recognition and opportunity,
put wind in your talented sails.
But now you've got the break,
to perform on that mythical stage.
The first chance filled spark has ignited,
and will hopefully burst into a colourful blazing future.
Grasp your chance with your unique determination,
seize the opportunity with grit and pride.
Achievement is fulfilment,
the more you achieve the more you bask in
the blissful sunshine of life.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
Such A Lovely Bubble Rise
Bulbs And Spark To The Heart
I Kept Watching You With My Eyes
Hearing Your Voice Awakens Art
I Picked The Words In My Poem
To Point Them On You Like Apollo's Arc
On My Eyes A Desire For The Aim
Reaches Jupiter To Leave A Mark
So I Can Say It On Each Verse
Through The Soft Arrow Of Anteros
Till The Endless Part Of The Universe
Beyond The Level Of The Erotes
With A Sublime Blessed Grace
I Described The Beauty Of Your Face
Pale White Conquered The Place
Such A Stardust Perfected The Space
Then You Paused The Time!, It Never Ends!
Astonished While Our Spirits Ascends
So I Drew You On Every Potential Star
With Endless Feelings! Unconquerable Grips!
You Rised And Forgot Who The Humans Are!
You Teased The Sun To Touch Your Lips
Once It Got Very Close, Still Pretty Far!
Your Care Launched A Thousand Ships
While Your Innocence Nags And Glare
What An Existence!, Such A Cosmos She Grips
A Galaxy That Craters The Beauty Of Mercury!
Drives Venus Jealous To His Very End!
Then Uranus Gave Up On Such A Mystery!
Pluto Wolf Whistled His Frozen Wind!
Mars Was Not Able To Belive His Own Eye!
Neptune Was Busy Losing His Own Mind!
Saturn And His Ring Felt Like A Fly!
Earth Was The Blessed Land!
Yet Jupiter Was The One To Tie!
Author/ Aladdin Aures H.
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 5:15 AM UTC
Meet me
At the place
We laid in
The long grass and
Could see Boston
On the distant horizon.
Would you travel
From lake Michigan,
For one last dive in
The Atlantic with me again?
Meet me
At the place
You teased me saying
You hated the hill and walking.
Meet me
At the place
I teased you showing
More skin than I intended.
Meet me
At the place
Where the lights aren't so harsh,
And I gave you all my stars,
Letting you trace constellations
One by one,
Until you could map me -
Navigate me.
Would you come
Meet me there
Once more,
So I could try to
Give you all the things
I could not before?
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Dear Grandpa that I never knew,
Mommy told me so much about you,
Sorry that you couldn’t watch me grow,
Or in my childhood much could sow,
But Mommy did once a tale me tell,
Of how you made her laugh
and picked her up when she fell,
you taught my mommy of what people to one can do,
while you did live,
So Grandpa thank you
for the love to mommy you did give,
Grandpa its always been strange to hear,
How mommy does in her memories hold you dear,
I can’t help but wonder how you where,
to cause mommy when she speaks of you to cry that single tear,
Mommy said she was always one of the boys,
But you taught her she was beautiful and to keep her poise,
she was too teased for not being thin,
but you taught her who she was, was what made her win,
Of all her knowledge once belonged to you,
The songs she sings and all she holds true,
Her love for nature and ones soul,
But grandpa your death on mommy did take its tole,
So Grandpa though your absents makes her blue,
Mommy say she owes who she is all to you,
So My Grandpa by no other name,
Thank you,
Because otherwise Mommy wouldn’t be the same,
But dear Grandpa I Never Knew,
but my heart through mommy's touched,
You should know that mommy loves you,
very much,
And though I don’t know you grandpa dear,
When I see mommy cry her single tear,
I know I’d have loved you lots too,
Because mommy’s love for you was and still is so true.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:19 AM UTC
I wanted you so long
I always sang this song
You came along in autumn
I bloomed like a cherry blossom
Your presence put me in awe
I was out of all my senses
Your magnetic force
pulled me close
to your gravity of love
You smiled and came closer
I could not stop
myself to be yours
You teased me everywhere
with your fingers
we had some sweet giggles
Your lips so soft
your body so attractive
We made love
I felt that even if I die
I am still alive
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC
My lavender is burnt and loveless;
Painful, devoured and helpless,
Weak by the side of its dying corpse;
Solitary yet at an age so young.
My lavender cries in its daydreams;
Giggles in sorrowful screams,
And faints and dies beneath fun daylight;
As though tortured and wounded by the sun.
My lavender wriggles in isolation;
Like those ragged clothes in damnation
And there's no more death between heaven and hell--
For none is alive, nor breathes to live.
My lavender longs not to drink nor die;
But it sleeps by the hushed setting moon,
Trapped behind the tail of his lethal winds;
Blinded by too many mysteries, unseen.
My lavender peels its own skinny bones;
Its quaint lust cut and fiercely torn,
Teased by the cold trees of summertime;
Faded by the sweet whispers of time.
My lavender eats its own bloodless veins;
And its hateful friendless world,
Having laughed at anonymous walls
Marveled at unspoken poems.
My lavender drinks of its own soul;
And to love now is but to have none,
With her autumn love stolen by fate;
All her gripping sonnets are far too late.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
I was pushed into somewhere I didn’t want to be
I had no where to go but in there
There where it was nothing but shadows,
The screams of terror were silent to ones who could hear
The tears of the pain were the happiness of ones face
The scars on their arms were teased
The hand that wrote that beautiful song and brought joy into people
Were the same ones that held that blade in sadness
And you shook it
I was lost with
No heart
No emotion
No care
Not even love
Crying because I thought there was something to be
You meant everything to me
You knew that
You knew that I cared
And you let me go
You put me though something I didn’t even know existed
You like playing games
Games that leave me with nothing but pain and sadness
I hate you
But I love you
I don’t want anything to do with you
But I want you to come back
You coming back would make me happy
But you don’t care
I’ve spent days at a time thinking about you
And the type of love you give to people
You make me sick
And I will never respect you
But I still love you somehow
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
At seventeen I am almost grown.
Almost old enough to own a home of my own.
Yet, i remain viewed as young, naive.
Told I am too young to know what i believe.
At seventeen the world drowns me in a sea of questions it doesn't want the answers to.
At seventeen everyone thinks they know whats best for me,
"....grow up, be a part of your society."
Don't worry about happiness that's a selfish priority.
"...grow up."
But at seventeen its hard to differentiate between hopes and reality.
It's sad you can do anything you believe,
but i fear it's a lie, we've all been teased.
The proof?
On the streets.
An endless stream of people who've had their dreams seized.
I dread the thought of this stream consuming me.
Me?
Me?
At seventeen I don't know if I am me.
Or just everything that's ever been crammed down my throat into a part of my brain I cant pronounce.
At seventeen I've fallen down a rabbit hole.
The queen of hearts pounding me with every cliche ideal every adult has told me to believe.
The white rabbit screaming to me the time.
17..18..19
I just want to leave.
I am only seventeen.
But if not this rabbit hole where?
Just a new nightmare?
Filled with symbolism I should get.
Things I should know.
Seventeen is plenty of time to grow...
grow up.
But I am only seventeen.
I am only seventeen.
Am only seventeen.
Only seventeen.
Seventeen.
I am seventeen.
At seventeen the world says I am almost grown.
At seventeen I am scared to have a home of my own.
At seventeen I question everything I ever knew.
But remain unchanged.
Remain floating through life without a clue.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
She ran into the forest.
They detested her,
even if she just did her best.
She found a spot, under a tree.
Dots of silver teased her,
"Come, see me."
With sweaty hands,
she picked with a swift gesture.
She held, it collapsed,
"What could I've done wrong?"
She took another, this time with caveat.
Still, it fell apart, in a usual format.
"Am I that destructive?"
She asked herself.
"No. Look."
The steady beads of pearls were, dancing?
Piles of rubble lifted to the sky,
like stars in the early morning.
The wind lingered, blew them quite gently
Magnificence is painted around the vivid scene she's seeing.
She inhaled every beauty.
Then, exhaled every shattered dream.
"You're right, whoever you are,
There's still beauty in breaking."
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
As they walked along after the matinee, the older brother teased his sister, “Hey, guess what, Frankenstein lives in the attic and he’s goin’ get you.” With a flushed face the little sister responded, "Nah-ah, besides the attic door is locked." And her brother smirked, “Think Frankenstein cares about locked doors?"
Throughout their childhood, the brother jumped out behind closed doors, terrifying his little sister, and with each fright he gave his own fear seemed to lessen. After a startle the sister thought, ‘Does my brother love me, like I love him?’, and she concluded, “He must, why else would he try to scare me to death?’
Within the decade, a sudden brain hemorrhage took their dearly loved mother. Now, untethered in their mother’s love, the siblings changed, tightened, within, While their father, a traumatized, war veteran, swiftly fell off the wagon, and the brother and sister cast off, rudderless, uprooted into troubled waters.
And with their hearts snapped shut, immersed in relentless grief, they parted ways. Some years later, their father died, bequeathed them both his unhealed pain. The brother, the sister, slid secretively into alcoholism, conceded the family custom, invested deeply in their despair, the two went on, married, raised families, conformed.
And time went by, as alcohol soothed the pain until the brother breathed his last, his belly taut with fluid, his liver destroyed, a life sentence ended. While she, the lone survivor, mysteriously yielded unto Grace and was pardoned, recovered, she finally understood, she knew deep inside; everyone did the best they could, even her.
…and within a circle of one; I loved them all forever and ever.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Yes we did we went out to Phil's
and horked down a meal of fat
not for the old as it'd prolly ****
that's just a matter of fact
Juicy burgers and moist buns
filled with meat and with cheese
no greater feast under the sun
so we ate it quick as you please
We followed it up with Amy's ice cream
creamy and full of the best
something she'd never eaten or seen
putting too shame all the rest
Back at her place
we rolled and we played
we did things that have never been done
Settled our hungers
and settled our moods
our bodies we teased as we sung
I know it's so rude and crude
as she screamed at the top of her voice
beneath her sheets all steamy and lude
"I'm so **** creamy and juicy and moist"
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC
There was nothing I was ever so ashamed of
that I dumped it in a river to drown,
but one time my best friend accidentally tossed my pink fishing pole
into the bayou when a spider dangled from the line.
We were eight, everything was wishy-washy
because she called herself a mulatto like it were an insult
and my older friends kept mentioning that my mom walked herself
to a liquor store very late at night
twelve-packs bruising her German-colored shoulder.
I did not tell them my father had hidden away her car keys.
Girls teased me and I still wanted to kiss their cheeks at goodbyes,
The Little Mermaid featured at our sleepovers
saying, “kiss the girl,” so I did
but we stopped talking when I bought my training bra,
it proved what was in my skirt, my lips could not touch them again.
You cannot kiss a girl if you are a girl,
even if Disney movies say it is okay because Mickie Mouse
has no ***** to be ashamed of though a wife of the opposite ***
I learned important things until I turned ten
and Hurricane Katrina unraveled the bayou into my house
and I existed in four different classrooms in my fourth grade year
where nobody had enough time
to learn my name, much less the way it is spelled.
Now, in therapy, the certified insists
that I am a girl who kisses other girls because my mother
only put her lips on a bottle.
But maybe I wear striped dresses just because mold grew that
shape in my home on Camellia Street,
mud decorated the fallen refrigerator so it looked like
a cow some punk tipped over.
I just wish the sidewalk I use to rollerblade on hadn’t flooded.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
She was the rain
when I was spring
but summer became I,
alas it was just a fling
Naked branches in a
dendritic pattern
fastening on to leaves
as Fall fell.
But drives away the soft snow
the blizzards unwanted
a stormy winter
unexpected
Skyward, the dark side of the moon
drawn to the faint traces of light -
continuously teased the edges
of the forgotten surface
obsession consumed I
to start a spin
I grow to become the
hunter only to see
the chamois conquering
my struggle
like an insect trapped
in the strings of
the eight legged
she beast
beating a
rhythmic tune
signalling a
tell
tale
heart
the end of me
no bang
only a cleaver
silently shushing
with an overdrawn
whimper
and
repeat.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 3:31 AM UTC
My body’s a fire
Waiting
To be burned
With your caressing gaze
All teased
Tormented
Nuzzled fantasy
Makes me
A bad girl
Eager to please
Your ***** sensitivity
Tie me
Choke me
Tell me Daddy
How will you
Discipline me today
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 7:50 AM UTC
death mourns a life
that succumbs to suicide...
classical lawless-ness?
calls the jyst...
a thieving;
a stolen death,
a suicide....
bride riddled to a bridge...
baking...
left half awake and half baked...
you count with the number of
blinding equations...
your 80+ segments?
i want nothing to be part of,
whether polymath,
bilingual, or polymath...
you resd yourself into "it"....
fuck you, and...
**** off...
in terms of .gif ***** files...
no... the part where
we don't parrot?
for no worthwhile surprise!
death is alal b & w...
memory?
all invigorating sepia...
life?
the blooming of color...
you take shrooms,
to invigorate the colors?!
oh look...
you're as loony as me...
and why would i
give a **** about your
tall-tales of subversive religiosity?!
you're right!
like you have been with me
to begin with...
there aren't any!
now?!
suffer!
you're in good hands...
turns out?!
i'm a sadist...
i somehow tested the pain on myself...
i enjoy...
the pain, of others,
having, prior, teased the pain
on, myself!
i forgot teasing the pain...
i taste it...
i welcome it...
i've become welcoming
in allowing it,
a stature abbreviating a transcendence
of victim-hood!
i need pain,
to craft an erasure of ever having
the capacity to instruct
a modus operandi for pleasure!
death contra suicide...
a fact contra a premature contest
of pleasure...
suicide is what
death calls thief...
there is no moral artifact
of a "question"...
suicide is the thief,
when death is the executioner...
what moral question is
to be entertained?
non!
i can't blame the mortality
arsonist...
less Tartarus and more Gehenna...
less S.S. and more khaki
S.A. night of the broken windows
and less...
hyper-Hindu
reincarnation,
hue hue grey...
woo woo the ashen pillage...
no... i'm not here for the
cinder and the ********
it's enough that i drink
the sort of excuse,
that sober people could hardly make
excuses about...
and that's enough...
and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
I am a small and expressive six-year-old
I just came back from India, just a trip to visit family
I wear a bindi
My hands are decorated with mehndhi*¹
I wear bangles on my arm of all different colors
I wore a little churi daar*²
And everyone teased me
“She has a disease?”
“Why is there a dot on your forehead?”
“You look funny”
A few of my friends tell me that I look pretty and they wish to wear it too.
I get a few compliments but the rest hurt
I never wore a bindi in front of them again
I washed my hands to rid the orange stains
I never wear my Indian clothes
I am a not so small and not expressive sixteen-year-old
I see music festivals, I see movies, I see the people who teased me when I was six
They wear the dots that I had worn
They decorate their hands with what they call “henna”
It wasn’t an Indian holiday
I’m a little hurt
Why was I teased?
But they are praised
“It’s aesthetically pleasing?”
“The bindi is indie”
Do not tease me for my culture
And then take it for your own praise
Is that even fair?
Do you think that’s fair?
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 11:47 AM UTC
As her eyes teased me,
She pleased me,
fiending for my touch,
her skin needs me - she feeds me.
Playing with my needs, she seized my attention.
Taking over, I flipped her over,
using my T-shirt to tie her hands together
The tighter I squeeze them, the further her legs spread apart,
like a piece of art,
however
I flipped her unto her stomach,
face down *** up, So I could lick it up
***** poking out, so I **** it up
tongued it down
Deep moans guide my touch
lips, once pink, now blush; flush with lust
Pulled her to the edge of the bed,
then slowly filled her up
Claiming every inch of her
as mine, I can’t seem to get enough
The hunger burning in her eyes,
this is more that just a ****
Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 4:44 PM UTC
Spectrous aberrations of youth
Surround him, embrace him
Leaving him disoriented, dismayed
Amidst sultry belongings
He’s tethered to that pole of vicissitude
Draped by disfavor
Postmarked Valhalla
Addressed to Folkvangr
Teased by irreverent lovers
In pursuit of contentment
His chronicles restart
In an unpublished testament
Bound by leather, cows unfettered
One lifeless body stationary
Crimson streams part chalk-dry lips
As love’s guillotined victim drips
His future’s fortune forsaken
Willingness to triumph in battle
Leaks from this dimension
With each fluxing discharge
Of her stream’s outgoing apathy
And his fluid permeates alluvium
In streambeds near life’s summit
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 11:12 PM UTC
01:12 25/09/2008
Come gentle lover, let me share your air
and taste the kisses only your lips bring,
Speaking in tongues, my hands lost in your hair,
with every nerve alive and shivering.
Manna of angels, honeyed on the lips
rains down on me, leaving me mesmerised;
bestowed only in tantalyzing sips,
till every fantasy is realized.
The sullen low, the upper Cupid's bow,
the pout so often teased into a smile;
By far the sweetest mouth I'll ever know -
indulge me if I borrow it awhile.
Come gentle lover, cover me with bliss,
Nothing is so delicious as your kiss.
Sep 20, 2009
Sep 20, 2009 at 3:16 AM UTC