JUST SEX and POETRY
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4413 Nov 20, 2012
This wooer has no opportunity
to bathe with the contortionist
in a pond
under the full moon which is tonight

If he could, they would
bend and twist
glide soap to, then beyond
each others' curves

If she would, he would
let hands, legs, arms and feet seduce
toes squeeze sponge
squirt drops......
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4414 Nov 20, 2012
(She.........)

The buzzing needle
penetrates my skin.
I can't see the ink,
but I feel the pain
and grip the metal

posts of the chair's back
until my fingers
cramp. The artist asks
me a question which
invades the torment

that will cloud my brain
until endorphins
kick in. He shows me
another color
and dismay requires

me to focus and
rethink the palette
I've envisioned. His
devotion to his
craft never wavers

and my trust in his
talent overrides
all my concerns. I
survive the pain and
the indecision,

but still I stagger
when, after two hours,
I stumble to the
mirror to admire
his bright creation.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4416 Nov 21, 2012
Naked like murmurs
she stirs in the flesh

the kiss
down by the corner of her mouth
a flavour of wine and the tilt of her smile
hover like doves on my tongue

conclusion
sadly
our affair
had the destiny
of ending
in such
short poems as this
it must have been
better than that

the kiss

down by the corner of her mouth
a flavour of wine and the tilt of her smile
hover like doves on my tongue

she

happy in her beauty she
scatter leaf from north blonde tree
bent, blue short dress and shatter
brown legs curve down eyes batter
smile she smiled laughing me
laughing that be half her life
laughing oh! is her drum fife
cool cool she sway a wind
kept calm in her trimmed
oh! self unleashed outside her blithe
sweet bone world she sends out to be
nothing but life oh! constant as
tides she washes beach wave as
happy in her inner beauty she
scatter leaf from north blonde tree

she cried

after laughing, naked
yet sorry set eyes set in sorry wet face
just set yet eyes get wet tears let grace
in/out in/out yet words get tears lace
bed time she cried pet her years place
well met sorry night men race
here wet face streaked tear glace
eye skin streak stay sorry set yet cry sad trace
hurt skin feelings no sad she cried no ace
joker kiss tear gone come another why pace
away hold her tight smile away happy embrace
sigh tear set wet tear face
yet still sorry set eyes in sorry set face
before laughing, naked

Memo to the Lady

I would like to warn you,
my lady,
that the next time
your fingers touch my balls
I will explode
in a sheet of flame
you might just
as easily taste.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4417 Nov 21, 2012
knelt over her spread below me
slid
my throbbing
up over her butterfly stomach
all skin alive
to round, rounder her breast
tapping the nipple
lightly surface knocking
she
put her hand over her breast and its lover
pressed
as closer, harder to her
glazed her eyes, closed mouth open/tongue licking
lips glistening
then the other breast
it pleased her so

she was willing
i not yet spilling, so
she took it in her mouth
a question she advanced
upon sucking/fingering/tonguing
slowly blessed
lip-pressed, sucked, sucked
my hands caressing her hair gentle
wondering she tasted the unusual
sunburst: smiled with
newly discovered pleasure
going to her stomach

herself
all naked
hips hungry
sat upon my thighs
hanging happy over me,
faces kissing
slowly slow-ly wriggled
until the lips of her glowing warmth
part encased my erect enjoying
she
hip rocked back and forth
oozing living sensations
all along the shaft
up and down,
opened further till her
legs fully splayed
up and down
all along
up and down
all along
lifted the erect higher
fitting it hungrily into herself
sacredly moving adoring
and began to soar,
whipping her head around
and around in sympathy with
my upthrusting her
rotated
gyrating
growing skill
pure motion ensued
till she fell upon
me
I still in her
fell out
she rested
upon my slowly heaving chest
wrapped her arms around
the kissing me
kissing us
resting
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4418 Nov 21, 2012
I recall her pubic hair
as ferny vegetation, thick and black.
Amazing... there she lay
upon her wide and undulating back
with one leg thrown,
the other raised at knee,
the whole scene lit
with a muted streetlight's desire to see.
With one arm waiting behind
her easy, calm and contemplative head,
and her pillowed eyes
whispering from that breezy single bed,
we aboundingly
but for such a short time shared,
there, her limpid nudity, there
unrestrained, after less than a week was bared.
- I did more
than look, I stared
to between her opened
cream-and-tawny thighs, as, thick, full and black
that hair, refined, light, so youthfully
crinkled, crisped, close-textured and often tack
with the sheening fluids we each
in the other made overflow
as we looted desire and time
of a passionate, sensual undertow.
It was at all odd hours
that I fingered that hair
for long and long
while she smiled at all the pleasure there.
Over weeks,
over long, clean, verve-curved thighs
my leaping hands
celebrated, and my fascinated eyes
saw how well defined
was the suddenly rising edge
of pubic hair
from her warmly summered skin.
A hedge, almost
one of luxurious contrast
to the near-transparent female grass
upon her thighs and lower abdomen.
Black! Black to the last:
bushy, all natural scented;
firmly intimate hair all in-skin knotted
perfectly round her flesh so belling,
churning, welling out,
ahh, so lingeringly, lust-besotted.

Mmmmmm, cunnilingus

like a poem, perhaps...
the gradual tongued apartness
after the decision to be party to it.
the strangeness of new, moisty places,
unusual intimate tastes, novel perspectives
and the tearing at the hair from above.

from numerous directions, in many places,
and almost passionless sensuality, past adoration
this pleasure, satinly constructed;
a little of
the real perfume beads the face, lulls the mind.

whose point of view prevails - so much openness,
so much space to be filled with the anticipated.

begin at the shoulder's curve,
follow with barely parted lips and taste the erogens,
till hovering, nuzzle teasingly,
intuite the parting thighs which seek variety,
peel the fruit till dazzled flesh
reduces itself to contact
which unburdeningly gives itself
up to most beautiful, heart-warmed frictions,
and undulations gently slide down sweet intensities
which twist and ride up and over
lilted music in us -
sup and sip the most sated saliva ever glanded,
kneading nubs of luscious,
luminescent - what must be for her, loveliness.
Look in and kiss folded depths
opened with delirium,
closed with a slow, natural restraint
which permits a moderation,
for, from beginning to end, such
luxuries cannot persist, and more potent,

violent pleasures must needs batter the coiled bodies

which is not to say too little for the talking

or how to obliterate time
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4419 Nov 21, 2012
We lie there in heat, nakedly,
until you, lady,
begin to stroke with such devotion
and lazily lick your lips -
Then you curve your smiling body round my legs.
your fingers tipped with gradual lust
are lace, embroidering this king of pleasure.
you stretch your leg
and blow on my hair, on my skin,
then across the top of my thighs.
You slowly close your eyes;
you kiss once the shaft
and turn the tap of soft ecstasy
to a waterfall through my pelvis.
You shift, to begin to enjoy this more.
One of your breasts settles into
the bower of my hip,
and with your mouth all apart you explore.
Your face seems awed by tallness.
You wet with your tongue all sweet luxury,
sucking delicately over and round,
up and down;
your hair wafts across my stomach,
rythmically, erotically demure.
Your shoulders have a gentle power,
as, fingers kneading at the base,
your kissing lips group deep on purple.
Veins distend, and you control
such a well-designed uproar
into a caressingness of waiting.
I hover in your mouth.
Waiting, I become cylindrical.
I want to roll. I thrust.
You retreat. You take me in your mouth.
You fix your throat.
You slow, you quicken,
you taste on taste.
I moan, too glad, enclosed,
until as you take me liquefied
to flood your curiosity
I leap whitely across your tongue
and you release me
like a loving word you have spoken
enchantingly over and over again.
One flick, the tip of your tongue convulses me.
You kiss the shortening man,
your mouth dripping with
my fluid and your saliva.
Later you stroke
your wet discoveries
with one slow finger, dazed.
Then you smile with your eyes.
You roll over to ask how it was.
With your legs so apart,
your hair so wet,
and your centre glistening
you seem more ready
than ever before.
You stroke your own breast
and spread your toes.
Later when your hips lift
and I enter you quickly
your body moves like a tongue.
Then you begin to arch,
I cannot say how well.
I move to kiss your tongue, your mouth,
to dwell there in your breath
as you keep rolling,
moaning, giving, glad.

ancient lovers

within a sigh of contentment -
leaves whirling down the windy street
brushed almost against her breast
within a sigh of contentment who greets
first some memory of a subtle test
her naked skin he saw in a half light...
beginnings of the love poem
seventeen wonders for you
my beauty, among them
the fact you are alive to see the world,
the green, the spark, the live crest
my love, i am too new
as we lean nearer

her complexion,
most often in summer, the unexpected angle
of a woman's cheek catching sunlight and beaming
light filled with her anatomy into my eyes
her face, just for a shining instant
the boat, the exhausted oar, the groan of afterlove
sweating, the hand across the hair as if the horizon
had melted, a momentary illusion before
the broad smile, the lip service

'you'

completely still night air
filled with lovers hovering on discovery
the warm day swinging
at the passing away of time, flame shudders silky
teeth catch
the gentle tautness natural at the start of frenzy
she considers the smell of her dampness
one of them wonders 'what am I doing?'
laziness melts.

a single grief rustles,
a lizard in the heart's drier land,
once, swiftly, and a tongue speaks out from wet silence
a groan, an inexpression
later one of them drank water from a glass
and wiped a mouth with the back of a hand
when the smell is intense
when the variable night locks its secrets
an eye reading an eye
a hand reaches for clothes
a hand on a shoulderbone
one arm stills over a sad feeling
how long have we been apart?
passion a kind of architecture
for each other's sense of eternity

a fastidious glint of hair at the thighs
a single flush of blood
a single fingertip
a love bite under the mouth
blood has much to do with it
archaic patterns, ancient lovers
and a cry of antiquity
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4420 Nov 21, 2012
a summer
has killed a winter
they are already drinking wine
the rose throws greetings out
on the soft power of the day's incline
the lips move through speech
the currents of shadows flood
away into the dreams
of grass
waiting
where love is......
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4421 Nov 21, 2012
My poems
are
like a hand feeling fabric
my words are precise covers
for uncertain shapes
coloured with ambiguous pastels.

About the shape of the hills
she is silent.

She looks from the hilltops, though,
more and more discreetly,
to the horizons of discreet anquish.

Things as are, not quite sayable -
are on the silent horizon
in recurring presence, recurring.

This is waiting for the sun.
This is waiting for the day of straightness
woven like a gown she once saw
and desired
like a draught of clear spring water.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4423 Nov 21, 2012
I dreamed of a lover from years ago
and she was dressed in green.
She smiled as readily as she always had,
though she never said where she'd been.

I was working, engrossed, absorbed...
We lived together awhile.
I wondered why she stayed nearby.
As always I was captured by her smile.

Why was she here? I dreamed. I never wondered.
We finally went to bed.
She went with me more naturally
than she ever had, to sleep head to head.

How the years play tricks.
I woke and cursed. I never need reminding
how a cure for passion hasn't been found,
how the memories keep unwinding.

She hasn't been heard of for quite some time.
I felt a kind of indignity.
I can't tell with this dream. Did I visit her?
Or did she, for some reason, visit me?
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4424 Nov 21, 2012
Cradled between your tender thighs
I lift you to my mouth.
The abundance of your wetness greets me
and my mouth overflows with your warm essence.
Your sweet taste is on my tongue
and your fragrance delights my senses.
No gentle lick this visit.
No bashful cautious approach
For I wish to consume you.

Push against my hungry mouth
As the tip of my tongue slides up the slippery furrow
that welcomes me between rows of delicate pink petals.
Thrust against my generous tongue.

Show me the power of your desire
for my oral caress.
My exploring tongue lifts the hood
and finds your smooth firm pearl.
You squeal in that unique way,
signaling that I have found your special spot.
I harden in response.

My jaws protests what my open mouth provides
but I am unrelenting in my gift,
intent only on your fulfillment.
I feel your body tense,
and you are quiet now...
Concentrating... bearing down.
Soon now my love,
ecstasy approaches.

You push hard and fast against my tongue,
shameless in using me
and I so willingly comply
until you cry out...
and in your satisfaction,
I will find mine,
But mine will be the greater.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4425 Nov 21, 2012
From where I lie, nestled between your tender thighs
I see stretching out before me
the spectacular landscape of your beautiful body.
My nose is surrounded by the untrimmed bush
that sprouts upon a bony ridge.
Unseen, my tongue has found the fountain of your womanhood
and your earthy taste is sweet within my mouth.
My eyes travel across the flat plain of your soft stomach,
lingering at that shallow crater
where a small gold ring decorates the rim most distant from me.

It is a rolling meadow to the lush foothills of your breasts.
Small firm mountains, a matched set,
twin peaks each topped with its own perky nipple
sitting alert as though calling out for attention.
Beyond the mountains your chest and neck
display the warm reddish flush that signals your arousal,
like flowers announcing the coming of spring.
My eyes travel over your chin, finding full lips
that reveal nothing of your intense inner pleasure,
save a small upturning of each corner.

Your eyes are tightly closed as you look deep within.
Golden hair provides a wispy frame for your lovely face
as you are swept up in the avalanche of your arousal.
Your face reveals no recognition of my presence,
for you are swallowed up in the ecstacy of your sexual pleasures.

As I now concentrate on my pleasure in giving to you,
I close my eyes, for I have captured the landscape of your body.
Your indelible image is imprinted on my mind
and in fantasy, I will swallow you up.
My mouth will consume you, taking you in
and you becoming a part of me and I of you
until the plains heave up, the mountains shake,
and the bodyscape before me erupts with the fury
buried within the deepest strata of your passionate soul.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4426 Nov 21, 2012
Tender skin,
soft under my finger tips.
Dark eyes that watch my touch,
closing only when overtaken by pleasure.

A pretty face,
framed in soft hair.
Unpainted lips,
responsive to my gentle kiss.

Full round breasts,
youthfully eager for attention.
Each nipple firming
to my loving touch.

Soft smooth skin,
tender on inner thighs.
Shapely legs open
to my gentle persuasion.

Delicate secrets revealed,
hungry to know more of love,
Wet with passion's sweet nectar
tender to a lover's touch.

Oh dear woman,
your heart is precious,
Your spirit soars
When desire overwhelms you.

Oh sweet lady,
my desire for you consumes me.
To know your heart
And fly high with your spirit.

Hold me closely
and touch me in gentle ways.
Receive in return
the gifts of my love and desire for you.

Let's be together
for this brief time we walk this path.
Let's learn of joy
and take fond memories when we part.

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#4427 Nov 21, 2012
http://www.blackplanet.com/MECCA-POEMS/

you can read more of DeVine's poetry HERE girls!!!

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#4428 Nov 21, 2012
SOBRIQUET DeVINE wrote:
From where I lie, nestled between your tender thighs
I see stretching out before me
the spectacular landscape of your beautiful body.
My nose is surrounded by the untrimmed bush
that sprouts upon a bony ridge.
Unseen, my tongue has found the fountain of your womanhood
and your earthy taste is sweet within my mouth.
My eyes travel across the flat plain of your soft stomach,
lingering at that shallow crater
where a small gold ring decorates the rim most distant from me.
It is a rolling meadow to the lush foothills of your breasts.
Small firm mountains, a matched set,
twin peaks each topped with its own perky nipple
sitting alert as though calling out for attention.
Beyond the mountains your chest and neck
display the warm reddish flush that signals your arousal,
like flowers announcing the coming of spring.
My eyes travel over your chin, finding full lips
that reveal nothing of your intense inner pleasure,
save a small upturning of each corner.
Your eyes are tightly closed as you look deep within.
Golden hair provides a wispy frame for your lovely face
as you are swept up in the avalanche of your arousal.
Your face reveals no recognition of my presence,
for you are swallowed up in the ecstacy of your sexual pleasures.
As I now concentrate on my pleasure in giving to you,
I close my eyes, for I have captured the landscape of your body.
Your indelible image is imprinted on my mind
and in fantasy, I will swallow you up.
My mouth will consume you, taking you in
and you becoming a part of me and I of you
until the plains heave up, the mountains shake,
and the bodyscape before me erupts with the fury
buried within the deepest strata of your passionate soul.
http://www.blackplanet.com/MECCA-POEMS/

good grief!!!
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4429 Nov 21, 2012
It was not much of a band
dominated by drum beat
and a slide trombone.
The theater dirty and dark,
smoke-filled --
the sparse audience of solitary men
scattered about,
all focusing intently on the small stage.

It was the mid-1980s --
the Casino on Park Avenue
downtown,
and I but fifteen years of age
and playing hooky from school.
Streetcar fare was only seven cents.
Entry easily gained on the basis
of my hormone driven bravery,
a ticket bought with lunch money,
and the indifference of the woman in the ticket window.

The curtains parted,
I held my breath,
my young heart pounding in my chest.
I was about to learn
of comic routines,
of bumps and grinds,
of pasties and G-strings.
It was wondrous.
It was burlesque.

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#4430 Nov 21, 2012
such a phoney baloney!!!

ROTFLMAO u dirty old wanker lol
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4431 Nov 21, 2012
(She.....The Scarlet Goddess.)

Lying in bed next to You
Our bodies covered in sweat
Shallow are our breaths
From tantric lovemaking
Your arm around me
my head on Your chest
Slowly we come down from high
I licked the rose petals off You
Your fingers peel petals from my nipples
The brush of your hand makes them pebble
You shift to take a turgid tip in Your mouth
my hand in Your hair
Your hand caresses down my body
Reaching the juices
Flowing from my velvet lips
my thighs squeeze together taking
Your hand prisoner
You place my ankles at your shoulders
Positioning Your coc k
At my weeping pus sy
Plunging deep
Ravishing my c unt
my legs slide around Your waist
Pulling You closer with each stroke
my arms wrapping Your shoulders tight
Till cries of ecstasy
Can be heard in the night
Sentiments whispered
Sweet kisses upon our lips
Exhausted we sleep
Joined as one....

A Penny for your thoughts ?
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4432 Nov 22, 2012
QuiteCrazy wrote:
such a phoney baloney!!!
ROTFLMAO u dirty old wanker lol
the lips spoke ----

"we uttered a sigh of discourse"---

soft easy spoken english fell in place ----

"ice cream me, lava me into full ecstacy"---

soft rhythms remained consitently like

the flowing of strings into exotic music.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4433 Nov 22, 2012
Wet robes

lie on the grass--

pour of the night, sleepless--

dawn's eyes are waking and sunnying

wet robes
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#4434 Nov 22, 2012


I see the sculpture of the cross;

I see it attached to three leveled housing architecture;
at the top most level is the sculpture of St. George slaying the Lucifer called his dragon of glee,
from a horse with a spear thrusting deep into the dragon’s heart through his hide;
the dragon is bleeding.

At next level of the architectural - house,
I see a bleeding virgin, crying with tears, holding an infant whom she has given birth to.

At the bottom , I see a Italian Renaissance,
as a European Caucasian, with crown of thorns,
and the globe beside his feet.

Is he real?
Is he personified with doctrinal cannons
of the Charlemagne Church
who wanted to spread Christianity to the mass,
who wanted the real Christ,
the resurrected one, the Holy Spirit?

I watch this architecture being repainted,
redone so that the faith of belief can be kept on; so that, there are a few souls,
who light candles and think that
their knelt -down postures
have offered some solace to Christ.

I am watching the same architecture
being repainted,
redone with patches of cement,
being re-sponsored by business houses,
thinking they are getting favors from God on high.

The statues never grow old.

I have;
I have less hairs on my head;
I am more muscular now,
thanks to a gym for the proletarian;

I look so mature that women refuse to look at me; however, the statue is kept alive,
as the new, as the repainted,
as the iconography of Christianity;

I see many lie down, many bow,
many light candles and wake up thinking
that their prayers have been answered.

I grin with my age …
I grin with a compassion,
that I have found Christ,
an awesome contradiction,
of belief, faith and worship,
of the foundation, of liberation,
no longer needing the refuge,
worship, kowtowing of kneeling ,
before iconography or of hierarchy..........

The church in its physical form

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