JUST SEX and POETRY

"MUSICAL FLOWERS."

I do not wish to make practical decisions
and passion is entirely sensible,
I will show you what i look like
what people cannot see...
just don't ask me to organize it,
or to do things at the right time,

I will run my world over your skin,
put my words deep into your mouth,
and hold you while you remember
how to shiver
how to quiver,
how to moan...

Whatever you can believe
it most probably be that,
the truth of my stories,
will not leave you asking,
and afterwards you can lie,
and read me for a second time....

Lips slide, kisses glide,
into unspoken moonlight,
questioning fingertips,
ghost the contours of your thighs,

Your body trembles,
succulent kisses,
ran down your spine, you swooned,
from fleshy nibbles....

All I want is YOU !!
pressed against my hungry mouth,
Uninhibited !

Barely audible,
breath ragged, senses on edge,
what you do to me....

But, this time......slow....

Tongue in your tulip,
Your tulip on my organ....

Musical flowers ?

DeVine

Hay Robin, Lomac that was spectacular !!

I don't mean the crummy poem.....

I mean how you managed to get

9 spam
9 clueless, and
9 nuts

in so short of time......WOW !

Oh, I gave you the other ones to make an even 10

I'LL BET NO ONE COMES HERE WITH ANYTHING TO SAY AFTER I LEAVE.......You are two-time Loser !

The Real Devine......

Adrain Devine wrote:

"MUSICAL FLOWERS."
I do not wish to make practical decisions
and passion is entirely sensible,
I will show you what i look like
what people cannot see...
just don't ask me to organize it,
or to do things at the right time,
I will run my world over your skin,
put my words deep into your mouth,
and hold you while you remember
how to shiver
how to quiver,
how to moan...
Whatever you can believe
it most probably be that,
the truth of my stories,
will not leave you asking,
and afterwards you can lie,
and read me for a second time....
Lips slide, kisses glide,
into unspoken moonlight,
questioning fingertips,
ghost the contours of your thighs,
Your body trembles,
succulent kisses,
ran down your spine, you swooned,
from fleshy nibbles....
All I want is YOU !!
pressed against my hungry mouth,
Uninhibited !
Barely audible,
breath ragged, senses on edge,
what you do to me....
But, this time......slow....
Tongue in your tulip,
Your tulip on my organ....
Musical flowers ?
DeVine

You'd appreciate Song Of Solomon.

"LOST APRIL LOVE and FISHING FOR FOOLS."


This quiet night,
wind parting summer's slumbered loneliness.
Shadows of light,
simple is the sorrow of days once had.

Laughing nor crying, taste salty bitterness;
sadness employs this heart of a madman.
Does this, then that, question reality today;
aggressing the fortune of history, of tales untrue!

Does develop this division;
forces sacrifice and delusion!
Clearest path - thou holiest markedness now jagged,
found still, mind's pounding.

Greet sorrow with freedom;
stay severed, simple comfort.
Be proud like lion, non resolving;
into my heart - this mind, non resolving.

Of days which darkness severs the temptress,
of closeness forbidding and evils enduring.
Does shadows remove with time, take comfort;
neither him nor thou may stake such preference.

Has this portrait faded, or been tainted,
by time; for true enemies does create,
or the love once binding now unfounded,
dissolve as time does work upon colours.

Quick encounters, liquid eyes - tears inducing.
For fear, for heart, for LOVE!
make conversation, severed temptress
shadows removed are until then not coming.

Myself excused, but time does not;
this slow stabbing takes from me my life!
Exhausting, everlasting tournament;
desperate days turn to memories faded.

Quick is the path of diversion;
hearts parting and memories diluting.
Awaiting unreality, in reality awaiting perfection.
Seems in another lifetime exists our togetherness.

Retrieve from me my blood,
which upon my sleeve does stain.
And bring forward to me my love,

Pour la peur, pour le coeur, pour l'AMOUR!






Now, feelings fill the throat
to try to form words
but after being trounced
by the larynx mafia
they shoot out fingertips

seven days a week, we were one
four eyes saw the purity between
twelve months we shared our souls
two times a day, we shared our bodies
one bad night to bring it down
five cuts remembering the pain
three months to rid myself of your memory..........

~DeVine.

- BRIGHT BLUE ROSE -

http://www.youtube.com/watch...

I skimmed across black water, without once submerging
Onto the banks of an urban morning
That hungers the first light, much much more
Than mountains ever do.
And she like a ghost beside me, goes down with the ease of a dolphin
And emerges unlearned, unshamed, unharmed
For she is the perfect creature, natural in every feature
And I am the geek with the alchemists' stone

Chorus:

For all of you who must discover,
For all who seek to understand,
For having left the path of others
You find a very special hand

And it is a holy thing, and it is a precious time
And it is the only way
Forget-me-nots among the snow, it's always been and so it goes
To ponder his death and his life eternally.

Chorus:

For all of you who must discover
For all who seek to understand,
For having left the path of others
You find a very special hand

And it is a holy thing
And it is the only way
Forget-me-nots among the snow, it's always been and so it goes
To ponder his death and his life eternally

One bright blue rose outlives all those
Two thousand years and still it goes
To ponder his death and his life eternally:

*****

Words by:

Jimmy Mc Carthy:

Singer:

Mary Black:

"PINK ORCHID."

Pink orchid of love
fragrant flower so rare
of desire's full bloom
nestled in that glade
below your mossy rise

My tongue, a hummingbird
hungry for passions nectar
hovering above you, wanting
to drink so deep, and long
till my thirst is quenched

My hungry heart is filled
but for a short blissful time
then hungry again, takes wing
to drink deeply of you again
sweet pink orchid of desire

"COME INTO MY BOUDOIR."

She is sitting on the bed
just wearing a thin shift
one of her breasts
is poking out
so full and ripe
I want to hold it in my hand
suck on the pink nipple
but she says no
not now
her hand is in
between her legs
slowly moving
back and forth
I feel the pleasure
and while she's
getting wet
I'm getting hard
just from watching
and taking in
this sight
she moves her hands
and removes her shift
and says
come now and
kiss my breast
hold it your hands
and rest your mouth
on top
then suck me
like a baby would
that gives me
pleasure too
she says
now move between my legs
and do to me
what I myself
did just before
just come right in
I am all prepared
and fill me up
like none before
hone me with your love
and fill me
with your
sweet, warm cream..

~DeVine.

Take your dribble Adrian to the HS forums. It's bad enough to see normal poetry you steal from others here. Friggin freak !

Trees attract the birds,
Flowers attract the bees,
If I asked you nicely,
Would you STFU....
Please?

http://www.youtube.com/watch...

this is the SEX and POETRY thread

not the national geographic thread

hey troll

at least try


to keep up

http://youtu.be/UPybbfCevZo

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind...

William Wordsworth
Ode: Intimations of Immortality

topix

Lick me
lick me til I cum
you stick your tongue inside
my sweet chocolate
my fingers run through your hair
as you take me on this wild ride
i grind up against your face
you take it all in stride
and suck a little harder....
while my legs are open wide
you pause to look at the juices
running down into my ass
I pull you up and kiss your lips
our tongues dance together
I grind against you
giving your cock a bit of pleasure
back down you move
I arch my back and you lift my ass
with your hands
and get another mouth full
of this tasty love

Written by miche9901

I do a little lickin,
It's almost like eating chicken.
When she bent over,
she yelped like my dog Rover.

She thought I was a stud,
Till I spit up a lil crud.
I just wanted to love her,
but damn, she had a lot of fur.

Try as I may
that biotch had some tooth decay.
Tried to give her a mint,
and she stole my last.25 cent.

In the end, we live and learn,
No matter how much some, make, our stomachs churn.
I shall now go play with my blow up doll,
when I am done, I will use a towel.

Honey' Roses are Red Violets are Blue hurry up and get those dam pants off so I can do You. By Jack Handy

SIZEING THE SITUATION

Much too much fuss
is made about size
when it comes to sex
one of the very best times
that i’ve shared with an ex
was when he wiggled his prick
(the length and width of a matchstick)
round my orgasmic c l i t
by-passing the stroll
up my c unt’s larger hole,
easing four fingers instead
past the old maidenhead.
having licked on each tit,
at the nipples’ outer-tip

Good lovers with petite pricks
learn to pick up these tricks
transforming straightforward pokes
into shared, glorious jokes

Whilst cocks hung like a horse
can feel brutally coarse,
relying mainly on force
propelled by male ego
at source.......

LoMac.

topix

"JOANNE GREEN'S IMAGINARY COCK DREAM."

I keep my mouth full of imaginary cocks, small and
large ones.

Around them my tongue curls and flips.

I force them out in spit.

I swallow cocks.

Cocks lodge themselves in my throat along my
tonsils.

Sometimes I stare deep into my esophagus and see
cocks embedded in the roof or clinging to the
epiglottis.

Inside the crevices of my teeth are more cocks.

Now and then I want to put someone’s eye out with
a cock or hurtle a cock through a pane of glass.

I build walls with cocks.

I build bridges.

I fashion myself a tower to live in, made stable
with cocks.

Today I want to give my cock to another, to hold
it between our hands and feel the thrum.

According to science cocks are not alive and yet
they’re not not alive.

A cock is forever.

Under any force it’s still a cock.

It won’t disappear.

It is true some cocks change person to person and
over time they weather.

But if you close your eyes and open your mouth,
I’ll pass this cock over to you.



Bob Downe.

"GOLDFINGERS; WARM, BARE, BEAVER,and HENRY MILLER."

Sitting on the edge
of her bed
smoking a sweet smelling joint
listening to Led Zeppelin
feeling a little bit
like a loser
but wondering
if I might be able to score
with the long blonde haired
chick in blue jeans
It’s a school day
and I feel good
that I’m not the only one
not in school
but also wish things
were different
not so desperate
and fucked up
mad
in mind and angry in action

I’d rather be normal
than rich
but I don’t know what
normal is
and I’m poor
so I inhaled …

And sailed across
the seven seas
having Sinbad adventures
fighting mind control
monsters
ogres
orgies
lost
lonely
reading Ian Fleming novels
while
fighting sea serpents of evil
that other people
seemed not to see …

Until I arrived here
almost
all washed up
as
the endless shore of words
came crashing
caged images
the monkeys of mind
rattling the bars
scratching out my first epic
on the cave wall
like a pathetic cardboard sign
held by the homeless:

I will write my words
for her golden pussy

Words
like junk, spunk, throb
rearranging the blood cells
but more powerful
than dope
or hippy acid rock
and stoned chicks in firm clothes

Fuck !...wait a minute …
maybe I am a loser
back up
scratch the part about words
being better than fucking

But nevertheless
a good line
eventually now I've
captured a good blonde.

Fade out.....Fade in....

3 pm
and Bukowski and Miller
keeps me company
in the library
as I rip open the
brown-paper covers
heavy with overwritten works
once again
trapped
in
a
stupid situation
and I put away a book
then quickly sneak
and read
a Henry Miller book
then I put away another book
one for them: one for me
together
Tropic of Cancer and I
can make it through
the monotony,
the co-worker’s commentary
and the invisible paycheck;
I will use the dead man’s words
to give me giant sparks
of life
like capsules of speed
the way
good jazz feels
creeping out of the radio
and he will surely look down
from on high and
piss a river of rain over
the angels flying
to create a rare lightning
once more
because
even rejoined with Mozart
Bach & Beethoven
I know he must not have
forgotten
how it was...

~DeVine.