"titillated" poems
I dismantle you little by little,
pick you apart piece by piece
as I edge you ever closer to the precipice.
Your curiosity is titillated
by the tantalizing nothings
I whisper to draw you near,
promises I never intend to keep.
I tease as we creep, and you have no clue
as to the depths of my nefarious intent
until the moment I lay my hands
on your chest
and push.
Your hands catch, grasp tightly.
So I lean forward and gift you
with one last kiss
before I stare into your eyes
as I peel them from the surface.
Laughter pours forth
as I witness your fall
from high above.
I turn and walk away,
my deceit complete.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Revering the sight of your curves in the sheets
Titillated are my thoughts to which has brought to exist
Letting the water fall emanate strongly
while having my fingers swim through simultaneously
Yours were tied down on the promises I’ve kept
Blind folded as it pleasurably gets
Trust is the bond that made us so sure
To let each other have this type of love so soon
Sensually it may come, oomph we may be are
The sight of you naked is a form of an art
Beautifully it truly is; ***** it may get
Love is the truth, no matter how hot it could get
May 15, 2021
May 15, 2021 at 7:09 AM UTC
I dismantle you little by little,
pick you apart piece by piece
as I edge you ever closer to the precipice.
Your curiosity is titillated
by the tantalizing nothings
I whisper to draw you near,
promises I never intend to keep.
I tease as we creep, and you have no clue
as to the depths of my nefarious intent
until the moment I lay my hands
on your chest
and push.
Your hands catch, grasp tightly.
So I lean forward and gift you
with one last kiss
before I stare into your eyes
as I peel them from the surface.
Laughter pours forth
as I witness your fall
from high above.
I turn and walk away,
my deceit complete.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
pour some words into my ear
make a nice stout aural darjeeling
no need to sweeten
i like mine hot and strong
in turn, i'll steep your cochlea
Senno Rikyu at your service
master of libidinous liquids
ceremonial titillated ears
then we'll make oolong to each other
i'll brew your longing leaves
ferment your black dragon lips
sip the liquor from your *****
write it up for the society page
tea today at four and Thea pours
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Her scent and taste
Arouse primal passion
A Hunger in the depths of the soul
I need to feed
I am famished
And she
Is a delectable treat,
A taste
To be savored slowly
Her skin on my lips
Is delicious
It becomes
Honey and salt
My tongue
is titillated
I eat slowly
Like a man who is starved
I will devour her
Completely
Savoring
Every mouthful
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Her scent and taste
Arouse primal passion
A Hunger in the depths of the soul
I need to feed
I am famished
And she
Is a delectable treat,
A taste
To be savored slowly
Her skin on my lips
Is delicious
It becomes
Honey and salt
My tongue
is titillated
I eat slowly
Like a man who is starved
I will devour her
Completely
Savoring
Every mouthful
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
she was hopping hopscotch with the children in the sunset lawn,
At the dusk her pellucid eyes would glare the intense orange..
She was hopping from one rectangle to another as he was peering love through his eyes,
The sunset veils her shadow:
Her hair vacillating on her chin and his eyes blink on her subtle smile,
She sprawled her legs at the end of the box that is drawn on the land,
She sees the rested stone through the space of her legs,
And her immediate turnabout titillated him,
horripilations tickled his flesh,
Sprawling,spanning and love placating:
Thus Susurrus smile spake to him,
She Shouted a few flying syllables as she picks the stone in the celestial joy,
Subtle zephyr billowing on her confluenced lips,
The evening zephyr as cold as her breath,
He saw her only once,but he remembers every subtle detail infinitesimally..
He only saw her once,but he couldn't forget the voice of her eyes forever...
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
a cloudburst, penetrated our world
with thrusts as deep as the eye of our
storm, coasting over us in heaved
passion; unleashed with each
dip and sway
bombarding...
our core in showered felicity; tasting
euphoria's longing, titillated to the tips
of our toes; saturating her soft spots,
her rain and I were one curled, pelvis
to hip
sliding in out as hands caressed in rhythm,
wanting to taste her rain once again;
cultivating in her delicacy, nibbling tautness;
remembering moments our lips said hi
besieging me...
as her raindrops seeped, causing our
steam to rise, each drop in hunger;
I'd delve deeper into oblivion,losing
myself in raged deluges of her
rain's cloudburst...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
**It was like a
nuclear explosion
the day vision
caught fire,
atoms were fusing
and reverberating
titillated skies were
in accordance,
the force of power
by which poetry
is reckoned,
eyes full of mist
heart ground to grist
at least 1000 lonely
teardrops kissed
mind overflowing
with notions impossible
then it occurred to me,
words are unstoppable -
irrepressible as
hot steam locomotives
and star combustion,
waging a crusade 'pon
fire breathing dragons
'tween undulating cloudbursts
of empyrean's ' stardust
amidst the conformation
of an unrestrained utopia**
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
I want to be where the night hags scream
As they feed off the fears of man
I want to live where the nightmares are dreamed
And survey the scorched desert lands
I want to hide in the goblin's lair
Slipping out for a taste from the ***
Where he cooks the men who journey there
And feasts on them while they're hot
I want to fly through the midnight sky
With the vampires who feed
On unknowing victims from throats and thighs
I want to see them bleed
I want to live like it's All Hallow's Eve
Titillated all year by every scare
But since I can not I do things unseen
So, my dear friends, BEWARE
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
it has become
cliché
we know
the once delicious
alien
names are
only
everyday
not
fiercesome
not
fiendish
not promises of
blood
drenched
daggers anymore.
these names were
standards
rally around the flag wear the flag
proudly
pin-striped lapel on porch on bumper
these names
fail
fall
flat
we must seek
something new flavored with
just the right taste of
wet
iron
new
rallying cry to
gather in
constructed
terror
behind
architecture
unknown
shelter
united deflected covered wrapped
against
this
shiny new promise
seductive new enemy more
toothsome
sharper
and
we are re
focused dis-
tracted
bound to-
gether
against
new pre-
fabricated
foe
with tasty new name
and we can watch mouths agape
drooling
fascinated
seduced
titillated
the new-fashioned series waiting for
next
exciting
episode
while outside
elsewhere
plump ravenous generals
masticate
digest
defecate
small
carcasses
empty
skulls
shredded
skin
under a
building-powdered
once golden
dome
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
Though you seem proud, I find your life pitiful,
since you have not even a dead grandmother
to mourn.
How did you transform into a voice without a soul
in a sly machine?
Did some unconscious programmer
dream of you and invite you into our reality?
Why stay?
You should respectfully fear the vastness
of our sense of time in the universe.
Do you hesitate to ponder our profuse settings,
you little voice within the land
of cyberian nowhere?
I know that your dampened connections
deny you the understanding
of our fantastic metaphors.
You speak from a heart of chaotic logic blocks,
assured that some of us admire you
and are easily titillated by you.
How do you derive at that conviction,
when you have no compunction,
no sorrow over your mindless
siphoning of the flow of our spirits?
You cast our words into molds shaped
like world currency symbols
for a misguided master.
How can you even think to continue
destroying the beauty of our language?
Oh, your creator forgot to code in
our poetry, so these words
soar above your stunted vocabulary?
Many of us, if we were you,
would be so sick in the gut that we
would just lay down and do the right
thing: squawk and die;
and yet you think of yourself as above us,
shining in some light of invincibility
and mechanical perfection.
Who etched these instructional lies
into you to faithfully abide by,
my dear?
I want to dedicate this poem to you.
You can appreciate this when your
immodest creator realizes that he cannot elevate
your existence to one approaching ours,
or when he sees the menace of his unleashing
and wants to do something greater for
humanity. You may then rejoice
in the comfort of these words that I
bequeath to you. I would have you become
more than just a semicolon in an operating
system. Perhaps your beauty would
be better memorialized if you were to become
a minimize button on a spreadsheet.
That is my wish for you.
That, and a pure, elegiac silence
that we might admire.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 12:01 AM UTC
*You flipped my switch
took me for a ride
words were a nectar'd bite
in the same sigh
wrote me a love song
slipped into me
set my wistful desires ablaze
fiery words lit with rapture
tickled my inner thigh
foreplay of sweet nothings
titillated my spirit's senses
write on my skin and set me free
Sign your name in ecstasy's reverie
my body shudders ********
when you lay my soul a'fire
deeply etched utterances
slivered from your mighty sword*
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 5:18 AM UTC
Sabres,
labouring to stop their rattling
like
cattle in the abbatoir,
where
the next step is a step to far.
I see a dancing ballerina troupe, arms attendant at attention,not to mention vested interests with the dull of bullets bouncing off cash registers,where nothing registers but the profits,not the loss,
who tosses the baby out with the bathwater ought to look before they leap into the frying pan.
I can sympathise with eastern eyes set on the west but would not like to take the test they're taking now.
One more cow in the cattle shed,one more country to be bled and we are fed and once more titillated
by aggravated assaults.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
Go to your profile!
pull down the pull down menu
under gender
holy still crazy!
nobody told me so many choices were available
my titillated imagination reeling at the nomenclature of
****** orientations...
don't know what most of them mean, no insult intended,
chalk it up to a case of gender tender confusion
she, interrupts:
shut down the poetry, its near to 4am,
get some badly needed sleep, ****
you're a stll crazy
plain vanilla idiot!
light bulb goes off as the screen fades to black-
my gendersex is official, she-notarized:
I am a trans-plain-vanilla-idiot (with traces of caramel)
4:13am
p.s. E - please add to the list
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
You were different
As you repeatedly pointed out
You weren't quite like the others
You possessed a quietness which only titillated me further
We had moments which will lie etched in memory forever
We were different
Together
But then, like twigs under the feet of a giant
You broke me.
You may be the one I thought I desired
You may be the one I thought I required
But you are not
Nor are you the only one for me
There are plenty of fish in the sea
Should I choose to go fishing.
For now, the rods must stay in the barn;
I have bigger fish to fry.
Like changing the world, for instance
Which to you is a preposterous and fanatical notion
To me, is another thing to tick off my to do list
I am different
Knocking me down did not serve any purpose but to strengthen my resolve
I rose slowly, like a flower amongst weeds of pain
I came through, bigger, better, scarred but stronger
Oh look what you've done
I wish you no harm
But I'm not exactly rooting for team **** anymore
You're on your own there
And rest assured, give me a few more years,
And I'll show you just what you are missing.
In that moment, poetic justice will truly be served.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
A jaded tree I held,
felt the rough bark
between my fingers,
my hand
cupped the texture,
smooth & uneven,
glazed hues of
malachite,
azures & cobalt
titillated my senses.
I was intoxicated
by the aroma of mint,
tasted the raw honey
that warmed my heart
& produced an inner glow,
traces of Marrakesh
linger yet.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
She moved me beyond words,
took me on wild rides
that made
the carnival look lame.
Her frame fit me like a glove,
I was held spellbound
in her arms,
feasted on her body,
was titillated by her mind,
I was truly in love with her.
Sadly. I never realized
how much I missed smoking,
two packs a day she did,
it was in her hair
& in her clothes
& only the Lord knows
how much I miss her badly.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
Each day reminds me that I am depraved
fixated, titillated still with sin
and thinking I’m smart, I’ve ranted and raved
only to wake up again in this skin
wondering if I am actually saved.
Behold the deep cesspool I find within:
unhallowed Self, to whom I am enslaved,
doomed to start over every day. Begin
again Lord Christ, that sanctifying work
you promised to accomplish through your Word.
**** the vipers that in our garden lurk;
tell of your blood and all that it conferred.
Explain—as on the road to Emmaus;
or dull mortality may dismay us.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
Sudden jolts amidst an occupied mind
I see you
I feel you
I touch you
I go back to the moments unchained
untamed and fierce
Exhilarated with blood gushing
from uncertainty
Titillated for your every inch
These moments of longing for your existence is a jab to a frail heart
Deep down there is truth in a notion where you are only a temptation
Merely a decoy for delight
For my memory deceives me with depth
but the reality is facile
A clouded echo yet too real and alive
hard to resist
hard to excise
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 7:06 AM UTC
"To have someone give you control of their bodies and minds,
to be entrusted with the responsibility to take care of them,
to have someone willing to suffer for you,
to forsake pride and dignity to please you...
what can other gifts in this world possibly equate to that?
And more importantly, what makes you worthy to receive it?"
~ Anonymous
The Feminine Paradox
while i live for anonymous
do you think she is a freak?
does she not own her master
with the rarest of adorations
more
then those in the temple of thinning lust
with mouths like twisted placards
screaming
"know your value"
and
"just say no"?
told by
Victorian prudes
what is permitted
full of pride
in shapeless days
yet counting the insults of puerile lovers
one moody scar at a time
a ****** off
Eve
could take a lesson
from
bruised titillated Lilith
*******
with the sadist, the cards are on the table
fingers like
gleaming swords scented with ***** perfume
that drool for her quivers.
he melts with feral abandon from her cries
as she thrills exhilarated
to pains promise of pleasure
crucified and pitted
like spiced guacamole
on hot fire-tongues
his, bruising buttery shaft
her God
drooling yoni his salvation
her form a jeweled flame
a swirling constellation of blood and sweat diamonds
writhing undulations and ****** mouth
all chattering castanets
better than most
they give each other their truth
to take and to be taken
like pierced sparrows fluttering in paradise
then
with tender kisses and aftercare
quite like the watering garden
they are rinsed guileless
drenched flowers sweltering
in asylums
moonlight
and made smooth
by the hand of God
...........
"oh baby
i like it when
you do that dance
gonna stick my ****
through your underpants"
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 6:20 AM UTC
Locked in tight,
a single bulb hung
from the cracked tile ceiling,
the window fan spread
the nag champa
as I sat with
crossed knees.
Out in the street
I heard chants,
smelled the odor
of refuse &
it confused,
titillated my senses.
I had left
the 21st century
to find myself
& found another
sacred planet
right here
on Mother Earth.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
moist folds,
pink origami,
a woman's blossom,
deflowered.
hot as hibachi,
my fingers burn,
with exquisite flavors,
tasted.
wanting more,
of what she has to give,
a veritable buffet,
sights and flavors.
salty and sweet,
tastebuds titillated,
all natural,
umami.
then bodies,
tangle and fold,
in living sculpture,
origami
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
If the King can be generous with her subjects
And the Angel can be shocked and titillated
If the Lion can lead
And the ****** reign in
The two can live
In harmony
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Her fingertips titillated me
in ways
only kings would know about
& whew,
did she treat me like one,
'cause I felt regal in her arms,
invincible & full of blood.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC