One | Erotic Poetry

Looking into the past, present and future
I awaken the passion locked inside
Building up flames as I look into your eyes
And bringing forth all your wildest desires

Like a sweetened piece of ripened fruit
A bee is to honey and this erotic meeting of two bodies.

In my sexual wanton, I’m close to starvation
This is my new beginning now, you see
I want to absorb you, and savor your taste
Manifesting this heated passion and desire as lust

An animalistic passion in its unrivalled reign
With fluids running from their respective channels
There’s a pleasure in our thrust, terminating the pain
On full throttle, a blissfully savage beat without restrain

In and out, deeper, sexual moans and grunting sounds
A one on one match, loud cries with wild sighs surround
A seductive precision accompanying arching moans
Breathing together in no harmonious tones

An orgasmic arrival to griping and sucking sounds
Choked in your tight wetness, supported by the slap of your thighs
I’m releasing life’s liquid deep into your willingness
As we climb to heights, blossomed and bloomed.

A perfect moment, with two people in a passionate tune
Body, mind and soul now calmly rest, catching our breathe
Composed to lie next to each other, two bodies joined naked
As separate cores, not divided in souls; we started as two
Now we end as one.

Not A One Night Stand – #WOrgasm

Today I start a new series called #WOrgasm. It deals with story and poetry used to cause sexual stimulation. Your poems are equally invited. I call it #VerbalStimulation. Here’s one such poem. And it crude I know More After The Cut Continue reading

Aside

POEM: Don’t Underestimate Me

Don’t underestimate me;
Don’t think that because I’m short and weak,
You can bring me down.

My soul is as strong as the furious sea can be.
My fist may not carry the strength of Cuchulain,
But the damage my whole being can cause,
Can be compared to the worst ancient battle.

My reflection is of a soft and delicate spring flower.
But inside of me, beats the heart of a warrior.

A beast that at any sign of danger,
Reveals its claws.

I can give you soft kisses;
I can care for you in my arms;
I can give you the world,
Or I eat you alive,
I can swallow you whole.

Don’t underestimate me;
I’m hot as LAVA;
I’m cold as ICE.

Shot By A Silver Bullet

They arrived,
Skins; pale as the dying moon
Speech; slurred as the tranced Tsali’s

We were
Open
Our claws retracted
Our growls turned to purrs
The humbled lion’s teeth, now harmless.

They arrived,
Their guns; rusty from idleness.
Their chambers unloaded; bullets astray.

We were
Open
Our frowns; upside down
Our mood; servile and post coital.
Recovering from making love with cotton and silk.

They arrived,
Poised to overtake and control.
Gun chamber; loaded, soldiers; ready.

We were
Open
Our thoughts towards them; guileless
Our guard; let down
Blinded by the silver and cotton.

They came
Guns down

We were
Kings
Shot off our golden thrones by silver bullets.

POEM: Love Lost II

My skin crawls

my face falls

my heart shrinks;

You’re at it again.

 

Your voice unheard

your tales unread

the laughs unshared;

You’re at it again.

 

Shame floods my being

darkness veils my world

doubts storm my heart;

You’re at it again.

 

I beg and haggle

coax and seduce;

How could you

be at it again?!

 

The eyes have bled,

the heart has cried,

the soul has echoed…

Enough.

 

I am allergic to your sorry.

Enhanced by Zemanta

POEM: Love Lost I

I’m not a real boy;

flighty, honest,

lacking in manly wiles.

But

I love like a man.

Fiercely, sacrificially,

open, fragile.

Jealously,

possessively,

Make me your all and only.

Pushing you

for more

because I know you can.

Hanging on by chewed-up fingernails,

Hoping against hope,

a deer caught in headlights.

But

There is only so much

my mortal heart can take.

I love like a man.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Default Feature Image

[POEM] All I Wanted Was To Talk

Wandering alone one night,
Having lost a casual friend.
I walked into a strange new place,
Waiting for the night to end.

Was looking for a little chat,
For one to pass the time.
Escaping real world sameness,
Not knowing who I’d find.
My heart was on a different path,
One unknown to me.
Wrapped up tight inside my soul,
Needing love quite differently.
I wasn’t really seeing,
The other people there.
This wasn’t where I’d look,
To find someone to care.
I was looking for distraction,
To play the flirting game.
It was then that she kissed on me,
Nothing spoken and no name.
Now I’ve been kissed before,
By women wanting passion.
I would not call it sharing though,
Most lacking real compassion.
I thanked her then most openly,
For sharing something sweet.
Her quick reply changed the game,
My heart did skip a beat.
All I wanted was to talk,
Though my heart was needing more.
The loving that we shared from there,
Was like none I’d had before.
She sent me pretty pictures,
Her writing, and her scent.
I’ve never felt so filled,
With comfort and content.
We both were very married,
Attached to other lives.
Yet we longed for each other,
Where what’s missing came alive.
She’s not some hot replacement,
For the sharing that I’ve missed.
She’s my lonely lover,
Wanting held and softly kissed.
So very many times,
I reach out for the phone.
To tell her that I love her,
Not wanting her alone.
This passion that’s inside of me,
Makes me crazy for her touch.
How could one small kiss,
Consume me all this much?
I’m not given to take lightly,
The passions in my heart.
I want this woman near to me,
I never want to part.
My head spins with thoughts of her,
Makes it difficult to think.
Her scent engulfs my senses,
She’s my thirst…she’s my drink.
Together we make new colors,
Words cannot describe.
The pressures of our worlds,
That try to wipe aside.
Our colors red, white, blue, indigo will prevail,
Held in cracks and in creases.
She makes me feel complete – exploded,
In a million little pieces.

 

Dedicated To Shelle Asante @Yaa_Mama

Default Feature Image

POEM – It’s Lonely Out Tonight

This poem was written by Gordon Kuhn at GordonWrites

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

It’s lonely out tonight

The stars are in their slow flight

The moon strolls indifferent by itself along

Above clouds that I think somehow belong

Within pictures in my mind so I might can recall

Who in the world I should or could call

Whose name I wrote somewhere on a wall

But they’ve all left and gone their way

And I ain’t even got the desire to try and pray

And don’t recall where I drew the picture

That my memory won’t pull up and that’s for sure

Yes, I feel it’s lonely out tonight

The stars are out in slow flight

The moon strolls itself along

And I know that I don’t belong

Where everyone thinks I do

But I’m a part of the few

And somehow, someway I lost the way

And know I’m not where I should stay

It’s surely lonely out tonight

So goddamned lonely out tonight

Been that way forever now it’s come to be right

With the knowin’ that came along

When the day was that I was strong

But foolish slipped and fell

And even thought in pain I could then yell

But now I’m alone and I can simply tell

That it’s lonely out tonight

And is the same in the day when it’s light

And I ain’t got no more strength to fight

While in no mood to close the door

For whatever there might not be the score

Of music I could share or even like

Yes, it’s lonely out tonight.

And I’m in a mood for a fight

Because I lost the pencil and the note

That told me how to stay remote

But it’s all such a goddamn joke

That the lights should all get a revoke

Before the morning bells stroke

And it’s lonely out tonight

And the trail is lost to my sight.                                August 9, 2012

____________________________________________________________________________________________

And if anything I can relate to this in so many ways

Enhanced by Zemanta

POEM – Answers

What is a future if it seems blurry?
What is an answer if it is part wrong?
Is life worth living if you are halfdead?
Is peace worth the chaos caused to find it?
Life is an exile and brute wandering.
And like a bride bed full of blood, redWe are made of brains and brawns.
Yet it is no secret, we live like gamecock.
Waiting for the doing of our deaths.
We dig for the ashes of dead roses
To get to know the color of despair.
We use verbs, most of them tiring.
And try as much as we can not to lie
But say something in place of the truth.
A vow for us to bear in the nature of our being.
But the question still remains…

Why live if there is no worry for the dead?

Enhanced by Zemanta