"undergarment" poems
Her funky , modish, lingerie on a clothesline hung to dry,
doesn't bring to mind any wild imagery,
he just sees that: an undergarment
decency wouldn't permit to make an exhibit like this,
"My God!" he realizes with a shock"The midlife crisis has already started"
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
Moist and monochrome, clouds are gathering
On a Sunday afternoon.
Look up idly from my browsing, at the building 'cross the pool
Winds picks up, the monsoon breezes
Lick at the curtains twelve floors up
On the terrace, woman standing
Arms outstretched, grasp the rail
Legs stressed back, footloose in sandal
Lightly muscled, slightly formed
Kimono slips from lighted shoulder, designer ****** strawberry brown
Fabric glides across the hip-line
Revealing all to me below
Wearing nothing on the landing
Hint of shadow, ***** mound.
From the sliding doors behind her
Steps a man not quite unseen
Waist encircled in one movement, undergarment stripped away
Rigid stillness then the thrusting
Tension mounting at the breath
Woman gasps the O shape forming
Through her silent, varnished lips
Mahler moaning on the ITunes
Waves are forming, silent sound
Thrusting, busting, flexing, ******* arching back crescendo reached
Sun comes out, just at that moment
Roads diverging in the wood
Disconnecting, and uncoupling
Might and maybe should and aught
Trembling fingers, taught in temper
Blink the eye and pop the top
Shaking hands that hold the taper, to the unformed smoking spliff
**** the wreaths in, breathe the thought out
Bottle clinks across the teeth
Unbelieving, unconcealing
Unrelieving, unreleased
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
Moist and monochrome, clouds are gathering
On a Sunday afternoon.
Look up idly from my browsing, at the building 'cross the pool
Winds picks up, the monsoon breezes
Lick at the curtains twelve floors up
On the terrace, woman standing
Arms outstretched, grasp the rail
Legs stressed back, footloose in sandal
Lightly muscled, slightly formed
Kimono slips from lighted shoulder, designer ****** strawberry brown
Fabric glides across the hip-line
Revealing all to me below
Wearing nothing on the landing
Hint of shadow, ***** mound.
From the sliding doors behind her
Steps a man not quite unseen
Waist encircled in one movement, undergarment stripped away
Rigid stillness then the thrusting
Tension mounting at the breath
Woman gasps the O shape forming
Through her silent, varnished lips
Mahler moaning on the ITunes
Waves are forming, silent sound
Thrusting, busting, flexing, ******* arching back crescendo reached
Sun comes out, just at that moment
Roads diverging in the wood
Disconnecting, and uncoupling
Might and maybe, aught and should
Trembling fingers, taught in temper
Blink the eye and pop the top
Shaking hands that hold the taper, to the unformed smoking spliff
**** the wreaths in, breathe the thought out
Bottle clinks across the teeth
Unbelieving, unconcealing
Unrelieving, unreleased
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
1.
the wind is prone to grand festival
if you cook your own food
by burning your hands
in the day time
at night
then you will be also eligible
for having a ticket
this train will not stop at any station
then how would you get on board
why
then do jump in front of the wheel
the door gets open automatically
you would also be a companion
of that joy
your name will also come up
on the list of the blood donors
with blood there will also hang
pus and spew
the colonialists
with a black face
will wind up their indigo-factories
in the fire of the intellect
the undergarment will burn
there will come running
bolder and bitumen
the road is made
your lipstick will be
sometimes deep
sometimes light
tearing open the yellow afternoon
a storm will take birth
there will be no darkness
in the amloki-grove
2.
the ship is scheduled to start
from jetty no 3
i come to stand on
platform no 13
when i get on board the carriage
standing near
it takes me and runs to a vast
run-way
there are the lines of
sweet briar
i do not feel the pain of detaching
from the soil
when i am flying
through the smoothness of the lotus-leaf
i see a musk-deer was also running
in a parallel line
she stretches her hand
to take me
to the valley of her flesh
we are turning round and round
to enter into a volcano
and the flow of its eruption
is carrying us towards a ever-snow land
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 5:35 AM UTC
mama, i made someone happy yesterday!
i smiled as the door opened
just as i always did
it was my first time to be chosen
to be honest i was so nervous
they made me try out so many clothes
they said i had to look as pretty as i should
they said they were trying to bring out
my youthful look...
i never thought that meant
more skin.
more chest.
more legs.
he was an old man
wrinkles ravaged round his face
yet his smile had no blemish
he stared at me
and chose me almost immediately
i was never more proud
yet i was clueless of what next to do
i should have wrote to you as early as then
but as soon as
we arrived
at my 'new home'
or at least that was how he called it
he called me to his room
he nearly had to kneel
in order to see me
eye
to
eye
i thought he was going to hug me
as he leaned in
he just undid my bra
his hands were huge
they cover almost my whole chest
he asked me to take of my shorts
and he was smiling
for once i knew
i was doing something right
i barely slid my undergarment off and he pressed me against the unsuspecting bed
he grabbed both my legs
as he told me to open them
while he tole me to close my eyes
he started
pushing against me
it was so so hard so painful
relentless excrutiating i had to
bite my tongue to stop myself
from screaming
i think i was bleeding?
i felt the blood pour out
i couldn't take it.
i couldn't ask him to calm down
it was just way too fast
he was panting breathing heavily
grunting driving himself too hard
it was like he could run out of breath
i wanted to make him stop
i really did
trust me.
but as soon as i tried to shout
or help him or something
he fell over
don't worry though he was still breathing
and his face
he just looked way too happy
i was paralyzed the rest of the day
until now i can barely stand up
but he was just so in bliss
i hope you're proud of me mama.
he said earlier he'd be taking me back
to the warehouse later
i don't know why though.
do you think he'll tell them i've been
a good daughter?
i hope so.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
Not a raincoat to only fend for spring.
Neither like shorts to only cover in summer.
Nor the sweater to only protect under autumn.
No more coat to only guard from winter.
But like an undergarment, I want her for all four plus more.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
so many things wander
in the night of the world - electric
saw of the Hemiptera's wing uncertain
of its path, or a hand like a beast
in the ornate flesh, the sea of
undergarment with its saltine moistness,
limbless lips frittering onto squashed out
softnesses that remember the fervor
of grip or the pleasures of breathing after
the tempest of beings,
so many things in different placements
displacing me here,
savoring the impact just before the crunch of the bone,
down to its last ache between the
gnash of teeth and the miserly space
of cerecloth to a body—
they are many things trundling
in the moment and i am just as much,
yet a passing only, scouring the walls
of graffiti emblazoning abstract unfathomably reachable and misunderstood, lost in ineffable translation — this doting darling
contemplates death and
i understand now, going deeper
as fish sinks into further blue,
wet with something else but water.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
I am in my room
Surrounded by food and drinks
A camera in front of me
An outline of a monologue in my head
40 pieces of Chicken Nuggets
Two large fries
A large coke
And three Big Macs
I shall take my time, there's so much to discuss
Infinite Jest and the Culture Industry
American drugs and entertainment
Its sedative effect on the characters
I start with a Big Mac
Layers of soft bread
The salty cheese and patty enticing my taste buds
Between every few bites
I take a few fries at a time
Soft and sluggish, a slight saltiness on my tongue
How it's mashed by my teeth in mutual consent
Hal Incandenza, Katherine Gompert
Their use of Marijuana in secret
It's effects on the body and their addiction
A garden of salt splashed by the sweet rain of Coke
Flowing down my throat
I shall only worship a God who knew how to cook
And to enjoy a great meal
The medical Attaché's eyes
Gazing perpetually into the screen
Expiring in catatonic bliss
After the Big Macs
I attack the Nuggets
The beautiful effect of its skin
And the barbecue sauce in my mouth
The essence of chicken leaving my mouth wanting more
One by one
With more fries in between
More Coke dances in my mouth
Leaving a suave sensation in my throat
The years named after products
Year of the Whopper
Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment
Year of the Trial size Dove Bar
Mario Incandenza and Gerhardt Schtitt
"Life's endless war against the self you cannot live without"
And the tennis
The endless tennis, the dancing chess of the athletic body
It takes about an hour and a half
A time of bliss
Where I can please my YouTube audience
Where I don't need to think
And the only body part that needs to work
Is my mouth
Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 2:18 AM UTC
You can tell a lot
about a woman
by the undergarments she wears,
keeps tucked away.
She's got plenty of thongs
& some designs
have less lacy fabric
than others.
They give me this urge.
Is it wrong to try some on Darling?
Go ahead and splurge.
Let's play ball.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
here's an unusual
request
that was made of the
ladies
who are guests at the
domain
could you send
by express mail
a pair of cotton or lace *******
to be worn
on a manly tail
I thought to myself
the cost of sending my bloomers
would be far too expensive
as postage fees
are going
up
up
up
all
the
time
several ladies did oblige
and dispatched
their girdles and suspender belts
for the said man's tail
which so delighted
the undergarment gatherer's
warped rail
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
Bless China and Mao Zedong
I have partly decorated my Christmas tree bless the Chinese for the blinking fairy light,
blue and yellow strings I think symbolise angels’ hair
not that I have seen any angels with blue-rinsed hair.
I haven't put up any baubles this year it is a bother to put them on the twigs.
My shoes are bought in the same shop they are ok, but don't last long,
I feel guilty now my socks and undergarment are made in China
that is how you destroy a country's economy buying from abroad; it's cheaper
for us on the low income, it is a vicious circle, more people get laid off they have
little money and had to but underwear and socks shop at a Chinse shop.
The wage for workers in the USA is now so cheap Pakistani factories are moving to
Detroit and Michigan, but for it to succeed the Americans have to build better
roads and new bridges. I digress the tree is fit for purpose comes in 3 sections and can
easily be kept in the shed until next year.
So bless the Chinse for making our Christmas possible this year too
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC
Theres a Parade Today
The Sound of the Byrd's
Calling thru Bright Sunlight
Carry the Cloak
of an Undergarment
Never to Be Worn
For Majesty
Starlit Laden
It Is Not For Man
I Prefer Naked
You See
Flesh of Awakened Being
Pure Heaven
World Beyond World
Walk Upon the Earth
Sparkle Upon Waters Edge
It Is My Lover's Breath
I Taste
With The Desire
of this Smile
Words Spoken
Without a Single Sound
Deeply Drawn Sweet Harmony
Of Pleasure Felt
LIFE Breath
Christ Grace
Listening
Dew Drops
of a
Spring
called
FAITH
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
Winter falls, casting a white lace undergarment
of frost on the morning ground.
Time of death, dormancy, dependence.
What am I to give up in this season,
Ready for the rebirth that is to come again?
May 24, 2024
May 24, 2024 at 6:01 PM UTC
your shape
in the wind
your fur coils
keeps you warm
undergarment weather
reinforcements
taking the strain
beneath the line
no solutions
nobody goes
there
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
Brief Affair
Word was things had grown
Stale between them
Sleek as she is
Him handy in a tight spot
But the other night
When I flipped
On the bathroom light
I found them trading
Tangent points on the vanity
Bristles deeply meshed
Handles lightly touching
The envy of those two
Coffee lovin’ Joe’s in the kitchen
Spotted later side by side
In the sink, rims stealing
A figure eight kiss of infinity
Sharing a bit of undergarment
Gossip, a rumored stowaway
Discovered fresh
From the dryer burrowed
Within a pair of my own.
Hell, I wore them that way
Who am I to judge
Their brief affair.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 7:22 AM UTC