JUST SEX and POETRY
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5324 Dec 31, 2012
another kiss. another lie. let's lay as we lie
together... whatever
your sex is my favorite as mine is... yours?
oh well, we're confused
I guess...
let's have sex and
forget about this conversation
as we usually do
as we "do the do"
doing what is being done
creating jealousy for others
that could promise us more
men chase you
women look at me
we're both a wanted couple
that can't seem to want each other
the right way
oh well, c'est la vie
more great sex to satiate
the restless topics of our tongue
you wish to talk to me about
your feelings
but it's never the *right time* is it?
I thought about telling you
that I think I love you
but I don't think that it's the *right time* either
more back and forth
plus more quieting sex for the quick fix
minus a few quickies in-between work
too frivolous to consider this
as a serious matter to chat about
we are not good for one another
yet we're best when we're besting
each other at mind games
sex games... as long as we don't discuss
the things we *need* to discuss
so let's not talk about it
shall we?
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5325 Dec 31, 2012
What we practice

is sweet sin

innocent and intimate

our bodies. instruments.

perfect symphony.

perfect ecstasy.
each
and every
time

we cum together

I understand the quivers in your thighs

I taste the ambrosia from your inner labia

every lip service I induce is a birth in the making

while my fingers invokes the womb of your womanly needs

arch your back, let me inside... MORE

(don't) close your eyes

watch me watch you watch each maneuver, blissfully

I'm the master of your climax

you've already given me the keys to drive you wild

so enjoy the ride

.
.
.
part two as I part you all the more sweeter

sliding inside of you, so gently

while our hips rock to the unison of our private ocean

slow motion as our eyes capture each other, panoramic pleasure

skin flickering sensation, while kisses and bites, unite

arched backs, plunged thrusts; tightened friction

...has my point been made yet?

::To Be Continued... Later::
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5326 Dec 31, 2012
Do you blame me that I loved her?
If when standing all alone
I cried for bread a careless world
Pressed to my lips a stone.

Do you blame me that I loved her,
That my heart beat glad and free,
When she told me in the sweetest tones
She loved but only me?

Can you blame me that I did not see
Beneath her burning kiss
The serpent’s wiles, nor even hear
The deadly adder hiss?

Can you blame me that my heart grew cold
That the tempted, tempter turned;
When she was feted and caressed
And I was coldly spurned?

Would you blame her, when you draw from me
Your dainty robes aside,
If she with gilded baits should claim
Your fairest as his bride?

Would you blame the world if it should press
On her a civic crown;
And see you struggling in the depth
Then harshly press her down?

Crime has no sex and yet to-day
I wear the brand of shame;
Whilst she amid the fair and proud
Still bears an honored name.

Can you blame me if I’ve learned to think
Your hate of vice a sham,
When you so coldly crushed me down
And then excused the woman?

Would you blame me if to-morrow
The coroner should say,
A wretched girl, outcast, forlorn,
Has thrown her life away?

Yes, blame me for my downward course,
But oh! remember well,
Within your homes you press the hand
That led me down to hell.

I’m glad God’s ways are not our ways,
He does not see as man,
Within His love I know there’s room
For those whom others ban.

I think before His great white throne,
His throne of spotless light,
That whited sepulchres shall wear
The hue of endless night.

That I who fell, and she who sinned,
Shall reap as we have sown;
That each the burden of her loss
Must bear and bear alone.

No golden weights can turn the scale
Of justice in His sight;
And what is wrong in man’s life
In woman’s cannot be right.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5327 Jan 1, 2013
Closet desires drawn open
while curtains are closed
she doesn't mind
she's a nudist by nature
posing for me outside
in the nude
requesting raw sex
from behind
outside in the wild of the country
miles, as the morning light
finds us exhausting each other
like voracious whores in heat
I pull her hair, she bites her lip
I abuse her tender complexion
yet she takes it like a pro
no masse, no fuss
nor faux
fake nothing through the climax
as she invokes guttural release
love isn't the issue
sure there's love, but fucking is her forte
countdown from forty minutes
until her next gushing finish
I've timed her just right
her submissive smile, while I mount her
and defile her, once more
it becomes common place
I tell her to give herself to me
she arches her back all the more
for the entry that will define her happiness
each day of the week... especially
during the night, thus she leaks like a faucet
raunchy back shots
epic echoing ecstasy
she shrieks, she coos, her 'eccentric' moans
coincides with each concave thrust
provided, she glistens amidst my gliding strokes
I call her my sweet honey pot whore
she calls me, her "Stud-Muffin"
we keep fucking like hotel partners
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5328 Jan 1, 2013
I tried to time it right
but I was off
yet I was on
point

she eased into it
just right
without pause
I palmed her

her hands bracing
the sheets
while I penetrated
her every being

I fit her like a glove
a perfect fit
her body responded
with pleasure and pain

each spread, each sprawl
every thrust; every stroke
measured every way right
just right
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5329 Jan 1, 2013
Topix Offbeat Poetic District Court

The Nowhere District of Every Where

In the matter of

Adrian DeVine (aka DeVine Knight)
(Defendant)

Vs
College Girl In Mini-Skirt
(Plaintiff)

On the 11th of August,2012, You were accused of seducing a college girl with erotic, dirty, nasty Poetry.

On above mentioned day, you shared erotic poetry with a woman that clearly stated she did not like smut. Knowing that, you continued with your seduction. The woman in question stated that after she read said poetry , she could not get it out of her mind all day.

On that very same night, her body, without her minds consent went to see you in your room where you had your way with her…if not for the dirty poem, she stated she would have never succumbed to such deeds.

Mr. DeVine…
How do you plead?

Your Honor, if it pleases the court
I'd like to take a few moments to discuss
the charges that have been brought upon my person

despite the fact that I acted out of my carnal vices
she did as well, pretending to be disgusted
by my dirty language
it was SHE that arrived at my hotel room
dressed in a mini-skirt
holding a bottle of grey goose
offering me liquor and begging me
to write 'an even dirtier' poem
about her
it was SHE that stripped naked
indulged in intimate plights upon my thighs
while my fingers were guided
by HER hands;

It was HER handiwork
that unzipped my pants, pulling me out of my trousers
stroking me 'til I was hard enough
to cut diamonds
truthfully, I enjoyed it, I didn't stop her
her tongue and mouth felt like a masseuse
upon my shaft as I climaxed and she swallowed
she told me to be sure to write that down
I complied to her commands
as she demanded that I bent her over
and fuck her like a slut
truthfully, she was... a sorority reject
taking turns with frat boys by the dozen
when she was drunk enough to forget names
by the descriptions that she gave
she's written a collection of her own Dirty Poems
all the while pretending to be offended
by dirty words
using that as a ruse to pick her next 'target'
as I targeted all of her vital spots that spelled out
every moan that would condone explicit charge

so my plea is that I'm NOT GUILTY
only caught up by circumstance
despite the coincidence of the evidence
that has been exhibited against me
it's quite hard pressed to convict
& indict on the case of acceptance
I accepted to invite her in, but she
invited me to use her body
that was her choice and her decision
she brought the liquor AND the condoms
she lifted her legs towards the ceiling
& told me to 'give it to her'

so again, your Honor, I'm NOT GUILTY
I'm more of a victim than a offender
yes I lack control for casual sex with the next
available piece of sultry flesh that I connect with
but that shouldn't convict me of a crime that I'm innocent of
I only did what I was asked to do:
Pancreas-numbing sex and some poetry writing

Your Honor,
The Defense Rests!

Thank You.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5330 Jan 1, 2013
She was drunk and I was drunk
flirting back and forth with drunk talk
drunk poetry, belching nonsense
she twirled her hair while stroking
layers of wordplay from my crotch
she claimed her giving head was the best
poetry she could ever recite to me

We congregated about restaurants and vacations
the orange in her hips kept me fed
beside me in the rented bed, listening to Coltrane
and strumming each other to hotel porn
breakfast across the street, coffee and cannabis
before and after steak & eggs
more poetry discussing parallel sex

It was a trip to listen to her roll rhythm
from the corners of her mouth, each syllable
danced as an acrobatic stripper, somersaulting
to and fro from the ceiling fan of our climaxes
inside we nicknamed "Sanctuary," where strangers
visit each other, only to leave, knowing each other
this is where she and I learned how to play
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5331 Jan 1, 2013
Chewed her concise and shallowed climax
content yet condoning of nothing less
than spare bland clitoris lullaby
a study of her polite contrast
shook her sweaty ass for safe measure
as she shivered with the grace
of a paper shredder
her leaks were like a magic word
leaving evidence upon the bed sheets
while she lit another joint
asking me for the time; Those kind quiet days
safe inside a rapid dream where liquor
and unused condoms kept the church vows at the front door
her wedding band in her jeans back pocket
her husband was away at a seminar
preaching the word like a good saint should
she faked a cold just to keep herself hot for me
I speculate amidst discretion
she has used her body as weapon, before me
she's too calculated with things
the arch in her back, the signatures
while checking in and out
the tone of her voice when she speaks
during cell phone chats
with friends and family
and the love of her life
the ultra rich pastor with the followers
carrying him to his next penthouse
in Antigua, while she oversees business
in her home town, lavish living in lovers
that never address her by first name
she hides his sin as she embraces hers
another drag from her cigarette, she quips
hell, it's better being broke and having
to turn fucking tricks like I used to do
and it keeps him out of my hair.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5332 Jan 1, 2013
Empress of Something
striving in solace
drinking Mexican beer
pretending to be a mermaid
touching her toes
in turquoise and royal blue
proving to be miss bad mama jama
moving it like a thickset Peruvian
jiggle softness produced hard-ons
body language speaks sophisticated bliss
despite trailer park education
here she comes,
honeydew tits
Pacific thighs
tiara fitted around her crown
as if she's Queen of the Night
tight in the misguided plight
that sure as hell gropes heaven
by the balls thus to stroke out
that guttural load
for her viewing pleasure
she licks her chops clean....yummm
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5333 Jan 1, 2013
Empty hairline promises
broken by the vow of a distant breath
that may or may not ...fade...
silk locked braids in my embrace
as we gyrate face to face
amidst the time of never-ending
negligence
naked as you would be
in front of me
while I replay each special night
back and forth
in front of my memories
each hotel we purchased
each unopened condom we never used
each ecstasy we abused
without pause
sweet sex in a bed made of our flesh
the perfect sin
God might forgive us
but I doubt He'll forget
how the smell of hell reeked thru our limbs
during each hot session
each plot questions
why you're here with me
did you hear me
why are you here with me
you've got a room full of dudes
lubing up their tubes
awaiting the chance to dance
in your slippery cube, but...
your but(t)'s aren't for them
you direct them and 'it'
in my direction for me to worship
more clouds to pounce upon
in climax, we proceed
without resolve
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5335 Jan 1, 2013
choose a letter,

and then another…

and another…

and another…



now chew them,

until you feel your taste buds

electrified by the DNA

of a new word.



allow the embryo

to accommodate to your

status of word maker -

you are its root.



soon

it will ask you for another,

and you won’t have the heart

to leave it feeling lonely.



and by the time you know it,

the new words

will have bitten

from the core of your mind.



they will form worlds,

and they will unfold

new meanings

in front of your eyes.



they will bless you,

curse you,

give you insomnia

and make you cry.



you will try to rule them

and you will apply

the mene-tekel-phares principle

in order to sieve them.



you will flood them,

save them,

reshape them,

and redeem them.



but in the end you will bitterly learn

that the now alive words

shall have a will of their own,

consuming your essence.



and that

is only the beginning

of poetry -

day one.

Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5336 Jan 1, 2013
[…] that stubborn
splinter of tamarind fragrance
stuck on the tip of
my thoughts
makes sure every day
that I
no longer belong
to dust
but to air
and to the bones of clouds
spread all over the bedspread of autumn
like tokens of my ancient
mud-filled veins.
aquarelled,
colors lose their
solid valence,
flowing through my
downgate of timelessness.
whored by the highly odorous
crown of unhappened futures
my tongue cradles words
swinging them
with a rock-a-bye guilt
while letting their blood
leak between my teeth –
you don’t know,
but each word I’m allowing to
tickle your nerves
is the tombstone of a world […]

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#5337 Jan 1, 2013
brackish Words
salty drops
of La Mar clinging
or rolling tears
How it weeps, the cringing
cries of seagulls shriek spears.
But, stop, what is that it sheds,
salty drops?
Taste its piquant bite,
its moisture on your tongue.
It pleads like a whisper
then a roar to shore...
To be spellbound
tongue bound, Tellurian,
name me
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5338 Jan 1, 2013
Chopped and chewed and swallowed -
down we go
on eternity’s throat,
one bite of salty clay after another
to be recycled
and become the burnt sienna skies
of some obscure tomorrow.

fate chimes its eyelashes
like some odalisque her coin belt -
the boatman’s pockets are always full
with tradition’s eye seals.

we are but stairs
for humanity’s pretended
e-volution,
we circle meanings
like eagles circle unseen angels
up-above,
without ever touching them,
we live to ignore
and ignore to learn
the reason why history is repeating -
and talking tall
we show our real essence -

the spoiled mud flowing in our veins
keeps bringing bitter smiles
on god’s resigned mouth:
ever non-grown-ups, these earthlings…
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5339 Jan 1, 2013
rise to me from my dungeons

sharpening your sword

within the blaze of my wings -

your ever accursed path

temptingly furrowing along my conscience

and eating my footsteps

one by one

[confutatis maledictis]


my shoulder blades

heavy with night and moisture

scream towards the shadows of your scars

for absolution

and whipped with flames

my chapped lips reforge your name

from essence of splendor


[flammis acribus addictis]


scribe your whirled damnation

all over my breath -

igneous pyre for my words

calling for you and for starlight…

blessed am i

for bathing my ebon light

in your smile


[voca me cum benedictis]

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#5341 Jan 1, 2013
Original
CYP

I am a naked bulb unclothed

In this ambient atmosphere

Here by the seashore

The water tickling our feet

Yes my love you are here with me

In this transcendent manifestation

Of fluid desires

Blanket my body with the Warmth of your Love

Kiss me

Softly as if a butterfly

Tangle your strong hands in my Hair

And

Pull me closer in your arms

For I long to feel your naked skin

Against me

Skin

Upon

Skin

I delight in your deliciousness

Arousal heightened

I am aware of the heat rising from between my thighs

So very aware………….

Moist

Hot

And

Throbbing

Touch me my love in all those intimate places

Move your fingers rhythmically with mine

Inhibition fades to black

Yes my love move your hands there

Introduce my Womanhood to your finger

While I softly rub my Tulip in a circular motion

Glide your finger in and out

In rhythmic motions

Spread my legs my love

And

Kneel there between them

Keep your steady rhythm

And

Do not stop until my body quakes in orgasmic ecstasy

Again and Again

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#5342 Jan 1, 2013
Original
CYP

Awaking from last nights fog

Head still thundering

From drunken love

Reaching across the sheets

There is nothing

Placing my feet on the cold wood floor

Forgetting the Silver Silken robe you bought me

Because you know that I hate Gold

Where are you this morning my Love

The cold of December threatens to encapsulated me

I need your warmth

You’re Love to awaken my body

For the bones feel cold

Much colder than December Rain
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5344 Jan 1, 2013
[…] He was watching the moonlight, as it was slowly flowing over her body, endowing it with a translucent glow, only to continue its’ descent all down to her feet, on that green carpet…

”She’s like absinthe”, he smiled to himself, comparing her to that sugar cube he had earlier leisurely drowned in icy water. he didn’t know what made him hazier, the velvety louche he had drunk or the sight of that perfect ivory skin onto which he barely refrained to grant his lips completion.“she’s my sin and I’m her forever sinner…what makes us greater sinners in the end?”, he thought.“sinning, or falling in love with our sin?”….....

.....She was standing in front of that large window, enjoying the warm breeze tousling her hair, aware of the crimson reflections of the sunset on her naked skin and of the disapproval darting at her from the eyes of some women watching her from a distance as she was unstintingly flaunting her charms.

“You may stare all you want”, she smiled to herself.“in the end I know that what you hate most is neither my beauty, nor my easiness in luring men…...what you actually hate is the fact that you cannot help wishing to have been endowed with the same shamelessness as I was…and in your envy, you’re just as sinful as I am, but at least my sins are at sight…”[…]
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5345 Jan 1, 2013
smile, lover, while I rip your shirt off –

my tonight’s feast is your musk scented skin

scribbled with my feverish gaze,

not fearing the sound of my moans,

just tempting my fingertips

to follow that candlelight flow all over it…

your shoulders, offering themselves

as bearers of the marks of my fingernails,

while you share yourself with my lust,

you – my unholy communion…


I remember the day when I became

your forever Scheherazade,

trapped within the maze of your endless nights,

carefully embroidering sands with words,

endowing seconds with the lace of hope…

that day, my shah, you took my hand

and engraved on my retina

the bright reflection of your soul,

willingly imprisoning your heart in my cupped palms…

I thus became the goblet into which

you poured the very reason of my existence –

your love…


The taste of wind, clearing the bronze-edged leaves from the path laying in front of the withering dusk, is spreading all over
the shadows of trees, now bare and shivering
within the arms of falling darkness….....

Your lips birth my name in a longing whisper, kissing with your voice the core of my soul, offering your toll of sadness to the rising moon….

Come to me, lover….....be my autumn’s redeemer,
and let me remind you of the paradise lost
back then, before we had become fallen…



Sky tattooed

all over with autumn’s scent,

tokens of numbness

spread along my heartbeats,

ashes growing wild

around what used to be my soul,

crows waiting for my dreams

to become their holy communion,

and beyond all this, me,

heading towards a one hundred years sleep,

after pricking my fingers in your thorny self…

Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#5346 Jan 1, 2013
sun-kissed sands blessing

my footsteps for taking away their

loneliness, lock within their

dreams the memory of the death

of sea-waves…orphan algae taming

the maze of broken shells paving

the lacy shores offer themselves

as witnesses of my hopes,

while your name keeps lashing my soul…

how much sweeter can this pain get?

chaos embracing my seconds

whirls the grains of my dividing life

towards the empty skies…only to throw me

afterward into the moonlit incense smoke

rising inside the soul of your night…


…and then there was nothing…

autumn wrote its’ dust over

withering leaves, my heart just

laying there, among earth’s

whispers for forgotten warmth…

sunbeams, sacrificed for the

memories of now worthless

sounds, following the fate

of any other path lost

within ether, were caressing

the hidden shadow of forever

unborn words…

‘we’ are no more…

and ‘I’ have to learn now

how to walk alone…


‘dance for me tonight’, he whispered,

‘be the joy of my eyes in the mists of this night…’

his gaze burning with lust her footsteps,

she slowly walked in front of him,

chiming the coin belt covering her ivory hips

like a calling for earthly pleasures…

‘I’m here but to serve you…’, she answered,

fingertips barely touching the small tambourine…

and while her body submitted to the sounds,

painting in flowing movements the promises of her skills,

her soul bled all over the thought

that at the end of that night she was going to be

just another pair of eyes forgotten

in some corner of the harem’s seraglio…


Words,
flavored with your voice’s inflections,
float through ether
together with orphan shreds of dreams…

the sun rises crimson
against my need for night,
infecting me with fantasies
flowing through each pore of my being
and clinging on my soul like poison ivy…..

stars are fading
and for one more day
I harrow your name on paths of salt…

You,

who are tenderly hiding

within the ‘sectio aurea’ of my need for love,

making my soul fly beyond ultraviolet wishes,

brightening my dreams at night like the northern lights,

hear my calling cradled in the evening breeze,

let my thoughts find shelter in your heart

and allow my life to be the canvas of your love…

scribe your name on my lips,

so that they would forever bear on them

the seal of my heart-keeper…

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