#5786 Jan 24, 2013
120 Days in Wonderland
Alice has grown older now,
the lines on her face betray her age like
the princess seams at azure dress burst open;
Lolita's Gone and Gotten Fertile.
fleshy teardrops hanging
blonde areolae straining
Goosebumps on her breasts when the Man in the Moon comes out.
This is what he always wanted to say.
Man in the Moon holds a clinquant monocle
over his gimp eye
watch Alice grow her forearm out long;
lipstick fingers nubbed by bitten-down
while the caterpillar sucks his hookah
like a cock and drinks the precum smoke
while his hundred hands
make an orgy of himself,
and the Cheshire Cat prepares
The Rape of the Kyoto Serissa.
Serissa is a dryad-
all carmel-skinned Moore
with twining bushy spirulina hair.
Chesh plies a square of tawny bark,
it is the peeling of a stocking
from a plump thigh.
Cat whine a feline howl
full of heat and lust scratch
into her phloem
open up blood vessels full of sugar.
This is what it always was.
her clit in the hollow of her wrist
her ulna, stripped of nail and flesh
penetrates her asshole which is
blonde like her nipples,
her arm grown out long like a trunk
curling around her legs to spread,
to lift, to make her lower half
General Caterpillar fucks himself with his hookah,
the knitted fabric pipe knotted
around his balls
asphyxiates his orgasm.
TigerLily and Rose explode together in unending climax,
leaves pull one to the other to fertilize,
stamens actively fucking pistils,
yellow cockheads spewing powder on
the stem of an ebony shaft.
How fascinated he was with you.
Cheshire's claws rip
from his paws and
Alice grinds her teeth
when sticky honey pours from her
tight, protuberant snatch
until they shatter like
caramel candy sheathed in
a thick but destructible chocolate shell.
Feet embed in belly buttons when
they all fuck the air and mesh up together,
root structures take up home in vaginal orifice,
in open mouth, in cupped hand.
Form a circle as orgasm commences,
blend their colors
lose consciousness and
glass shatters all around when Man in the Moon drops his monocle.
#5787 Jan 24, 2013
I stroke my c ock
The girls cheers loud
I hadn't expected
Such a crowd,
They hoot and holler
Show their tits
Ask me how
My c ock fit,
In their p ussies
They show them too
Which one do I
Want to screw?
The girl in the front
With the subtle smile
She come down
The narrow isle,
Climbs on stage
With a naked grin
The crowd goes wild
"stick it in..."
"...her" they shout
"get in going"
there is no doubt,
juices are flowing,
they want me to
f uck this chick
want to see my
big hard dick,
sticking in this
sweet blonde girl
with her sweet blonde
the crowd cheers
as she spreads them wide
they shout with joy
as I slide inside,
we f uck hard
like a couple creatures
seems we both
had good teachers,
I cum slow
And she comes fast
But we both get there
Don't you know,
My cock goes limp
The crowds yells "more"
The sweet blonde girl says
"the record's four..."
by the time you
read this....It's more.
#5788 Jan 24, 2013
There's a channel of cynicism,
skepticism that calls a spade a spade-
and cocks its hip to take it away ...
There's that promise of tease, a suspension of thought
that claims my mind's what she wants and my body forgot,
but what wily way of claiming this, no?
In bondage, in preening, in telling me so.
There's force, then, pure motion, that tears limb from limb
that sobs at the thought and flushes chagrin
The maimed autonomy, baring its soul
While claimed its anomalous, devours me whole.
Furrowed brow bend to the glowering thought
that-oh!- could I shatter at fury she's wrought.
And maybe the aching that ghosts come to pry
from emptiness shaking from loveless lust rise
could prove from the depths of me time won't abide
That though she's maintained I'll be left undisguised.
#5789 Jan 24, 2013
The ache wells up,
her pulsing slit,
slowing for a
The ache flows down,
her tingling nips,
slowing for a
The ache seeps in,
her begging lips,
slowing for a
of hard hot rod
The ache explodes,
f ucks past
her soaking puss
slowing for a
of my big c ock
in her moist c unt!
#5790 Jan 24, 2013
Thunder, and a warm awakening beside you
Submerged in covers, spooned against you, molded to you
As rain hisses sibilant on the streets outside
Thunder, and a whimper from you
Stirred in your dreaming, you move closer to me, tighter against me
Your voice soft as you call my name, I answer you…you’re safe baby—
Thunder, and you turn to me, frightened of the lightnings
And the liquid violence of the rain
Treeshadows sweep across the window as the wind howls
Thunder, and you seek my lips, hands moving upon me
Needing closeness and solace from the weather’s riven fury
Grasping me, asking with soft stroke and moaning, now, please
Thunder, and we hear it not, distracted
Rapt in passion, moving smooth with delicious friction
Weaving better weather in our bed
#5791 Jan 24, 2013
He told me to wait,
So I did.
He told me to ring the bell,
But I hid.
Inside I went,
But only after while.
I wanted to see,
What secet he filed.
Manly lips, smooth,
Open and evoking,
I just watched,
Knuckles, fingers, stroking.
Cream and shiny,
Dipping from a dome,
Tiger purring moan.
Feeling beads form,
On my neck,
A fluttering inside,
What was next?
Round and then down,
My mouth went dry,
My sanctum dew,
At just his sighs.
He called to me,
Cum have a kiss.
I dropped my cloak,
And tasted his bliss.
Tangy and sweet,
White and cream,
Needing my fingers,
Upon his frantic dream.
I took hold ahold,
Folds of heaven,
Begging me for more,
He suddenly quivered.
Holding onto my cheeks,
Final rushing river.
#5793 Jan 24, 2013
Nicole, sometimes passion causes nights spent alone, focusing
on a need, a desire that fuels pornographic daydreams
trips marked with wetness, soaking, dripping, tripped out fantasies
confusing me into telling the truth; this isn't about lust, at least not completely
because you're making me conquer new horizons
new horizons in that...I don't write love poems, but right now love about adequately phrases my desires
and want and need uncharacterized by anything I've ever experienced before
passion pushes me into admitting these things, because as I said this isn't lust it's more
confessions fuel something I wouldn't normally do, this shows me my true feelings for you.....
passion causes cycles begun with soaking, dripping, tripped out fantasies
but ends with lovely, being-held-by-you daydreams
lovesick, I don't know; sick over you maybe but never of you
I want my inner goddess to be the rain that falls thick above you
and I want to surround you in my intensity
and show you the true depths of what my passion for you does to me
I want to be the smile I hear and sense on your lips
you can be the often-remembered and felt fingertips on your hips
and hear the moan that originates from your valleys and crevices
I'll want to hold to capture the love and passion that makes me want to touch it
that moment, that moment that occurred briefly
between wanting you and wanting you in my bed next to me.....
that moment was love
that moment is what this poem is made of
see there I said it, admitted it, passion pushed me into it
that moment is one I keep reliving madly in between my pornographic daydreams
and can taste on my lips almost as vibrantly as the flavor of your skin and even better together it seems
and it keeps haunting me, the passion causing me to reflect upon a happiness I don't rightfully deserve
I want passionate moments like that mixed in with the ones that cause wet dreams
and that, sensual lover, is what makes this poem a love poem
I feel vulnerable around you - you make me admit things.
#5794 Jan 24, 2013
If anyone asks you,
By illicit instant message,
Or erotic email,
how the perfect satisfaction
of all your sexual wanting
will look; lift your face,
and say: "I'm rebooting."
#5795 Jan 24, 2013
The gusset of her panties is quite damp,
She's lingered overlong amongst his writing,
And he has written such rude things: the scamp,
Knowing there's a way of so delighting
Her with the phrases chosen to express
The feelings that lie secret in her head,
And known to her alone, as they caress
Her mind with thoughts that lead her back to bed:
A place where she can indulge every whim
That he has reinforced with vigour bold;
She cannot help but let her fingers skim
And dissipate the lust that's taken hold:
She wouldn't want to be seen as a tramp,
Although her panties' gusset is quite damp.
#5796 Jan 24, 2013
I went to the window to check on the monkey
make sure no dogs or other monkeys were eating him
i knew i was being paranoid
still, had to make sure
he was fine
just standing against a tree
masturbating his little penis
at one point he looked up at me
but he didn't wave back
he just kept masturbating
and staring at me
at one point he seemed
to lip the words 'fuck you'
#5797 Jan 24, 2013
Women wear such costumes!
We clumsy men do not know the names
Of the fabrics of these dreams:
Lace across the tops
Of the round, full breasts
And lace at the waistline,
With nothing in between
But a textile translucence
And sanctified flesh, a goldenness
Of innocence redressed
Does your penis stiffen?
Does your manhood swell?
Does your blood rise
At the sight of this holiness,
Half-dressed in nothingness?
We want to worship
At the altar of her teddy!
We want to deflower this virgin,
So that we can smell the perfumed scent
Of her feminine godliness.
The penis becomes our spear,
That we may penetrate the mystery
Of her loveliness,
Joining her in the throes
Of her passion
And her death.
#5798 Jan 24, 2013
She said to me.....
"Baby, when I take off your shirt,
Exposing your gorgeous muscles,
Then I unbutton and unzip your pants.
There is a bulge growing.
As I pull your pants down,
And see that your legs have muscles too.
The bulge is even bigger than I thought.
Then I take off your "g" string
And look at what springs out.
It is huge....."
And I said to her....
"Honey, tell me something I DON'T know !'
#5799 Jan 24, 2013
Waiting, as always,
The ring of a phone
A cold voice, distant, male,
An airport arrival, 8:15
Pick her up if you can
The tingles begin
130 miles in record time
The gate looms
Standing in childish anticipation
She is home
Life is livable once more
Distantly a whispered word
Caution, not so fast
I see her face
Doer, angry, cold
She nears me and I feel her eyes
Dangers, hatred is real
Instantly, the question appears
From the part of me that seeks oblivion
Are we ok?
Cold words with no pity
I found someone
It is over
I retrace my journey
Faster than the new record
Pits of purgatory rip at my belly
Her scent fills my senses
Waited time, meaningless
I intrude now where once I was home
Sleep in solitude in distant places
Hear life go on but I am ignored
Imprisoned in Her world
Dependent for a time, isolated
The last day came
Not an event
No record kept
No farewell, no platitudes
A thief’s exit
It is acknowledgement I seek
I am here, my mind screams
See the torment you caused
But blind eyes never see
And love sometimes goes unfelt
#5800 Jan 24, 2013
I am in favor of thongs
they ignore gravity
they are simple
they are so willing
or they would not be
you have the right to wear any
crack strap you choose
may I view
may I view you casting a shadow
may I view you casting a shadow on the wall
you pressed yourself against,
I was hard last night
touched by your twisted nickers.
#5801 Jan 24, 2013
Twinkling night turns to stunning dawn and the alarm clock's screaming rouses sleeping lovers
entwined limbs wrestling to find their own space
coming to rest just as they were before the fight
holding tightly to one another as though the coming day were a beast sent to devour them
again and again and again the screaming of the clock
the lovers touching and kissing, awakening to more than the arrival of the morning
the perfume of sex permeates the room as they latch onto one another
forcing the urgency of the daily grind to the end of the list of important things to be done
they make love, patient, unhurried, magical morning love
he rides her gently, whispering softly into her ears and into her lips and into her breasts
she clings to him, cherishing his words, relishing the feeling of his sex within her
her moaning so deep, so full of longing it drowns out the screaming of the clock
they climax together, it doesn't happen that way very often, but it's one of those mornings.....
#5802 Jan 24, 2013
When I hold you to my chest,
tip my fingers over ridges
of your spine, turn my cheek
to flutter lashes on the thatches
of your breast, lay my dreams
against the hollow of your throat,
All the weary days of care subside,
curled quiet as bright flores sleep--dark,
as if the Sun had closed its shine to rest.
When i lay buried in your cave
of our confession, tell me what you feel.
Nothing was ever wrong that feels
Call it whatever you want.
I have seen the night
shade ochre in your eyes,
the twist of lips that pleasure,
almost a sob when our hips jerk
and we tremble together,
as I release the only freedom
we have left.
#5803 Jan 24, 2013
of dreams once sewn
sartorial, seams meaningless.
one place, to go
in warmth of downy memory
cold lies, now gathered at our feet.
in shoulders bared, behind, windswept
the tracks of lonely tears, once shed
we hear the distant thunder lace
among the corridors of salt and pepper clouds.
In calling, chase
veiled the passage promise, waits
Alone, we greet
amidst a thinning loom
ghosts pale, as dream takes leave.
In endless fall, of eyes
conceived our very mystery.
Since: Jan 13
#5804 Jan 25, 2013
The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable.
Love without sex is still the most efficient form of hell known to man.
#5805 Jan 26, 2013
Silky petals of
Into black, a symbol
Of love lost
In the darkness of
Dew drops cover
Your satin surface,
A reminder of unshed
Tears, my broken heart,
First romances extinguished
#5806 Jan 26, 2013
A tear silently left the corner of my eyes
dragged me to the window to look at the dark night sky
I felt her love deeper than ever
the breeze brought back her fragrance like the winter roses
I felt her love melting on my body
And a lump rise in my throat, increasing the desire
Desire to meet her, desire to hug her.
I truly understood the meaning of this desire in her remembrance.
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