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Everyday Erotica

advancing into the sunset

--


advancing into the sunset



the two dimensional surface
and the selfboat of my body

from another dimension
your warm presence
seems
- - - - in this cool ocean
more real
- - - - than my own

with every breath of the salty water
i taste roses
- - - - of your wavy breasts

the ocean passes by (the sun is red)

i wear horizon
- - 'round my head

​







wh,
1989/90
 
What Lying Looks Like

I know this isn't love
I'm offering, not really even
companionship. It's just

a shared bed and conversation
before sleep, and perhaps
coffee and toast

and a chaste kiss on your cheek
before I leave for the office.
We will work this out

later, when I'm free
from that bitch in Grosse Pointe.
I know you'll wait for me.
 
She inspires me
with words and deeds,
thoughts I defeat with deft precision
because baby we can't

or we can but I wont
how does it seem so useless
we were biologically never meant to be monogamous
or were we
I can't see past her bust
or ass

no, no, no, no a monkish chant
later when I rant and rave
take her in a fierce blaze of passion
and her afterglow drips from the tip
of my forceful entry
eyes dazed from the haze of lust
burnt singes smoke from shattered husk
the splash of creation I leave
in an orgy of dna all over her tits
to her this is love

to me, it is something I can't have
my frustration rammed home
in a home that feels like prison

and she still inspires me
 
todski28 said:
She inspires me
with words and deeds,
thoughts I defeat with deft precision
because baby we can't

or we can but I wont
how does it seem so useless
we were biologically never meant to be monogamous
or were we
I can't see past her bust
or ass

no, no, no, no a monkish chant
later when I rant and rave
take her in a fierce blaze of passion
and her afterglow drips from the tip
of my forceful entry
eyes dazed from the haze of lust
burnt singes smoke from shattered husk
the splash of creation I leave
in an orgy of dna all over her tits
to her this is love

to me, it is something I can't have
my frustration rammed home
in a home that feels like prison

and she still inspires me
Click to expand...

butters said:
powerful piece :cool:
Click to expand...

seconded

gritty contrasting emotions
 
todski28 said:
She inspires me
with words and deeds,
thoughts I defeat with deft precision
because baby we can't

or we can but I wont
how does it seem so useless
we were biologically never meant to be monogamous
or were we
I can't see past her bust
or ass

no, no, no, no a monkish chant
later when I rant and rave
take her in a fierce blaze of passion
and her afterglow drips from the tip
of my forceful entry
eyes dazed from the haze of lust
burnt singes smoke from shattered husk
the splash of creation I leave
in an orgy of dna all over her tits
to her this is love

to me, it is something I can't have
my frustration rammed home
in a home that feels like prison

and she still inspires me
Click to expand...

Todski, line:

we were biologically never meant to be monogamous​

has nothing to do with poetry. One such blemish and forget it. You need some understanding of poetry or you will continue to do this nonsense.

Your first eight lines have nothing to do with poetry.

Can't you make the last two lines poetic? Try much-much narrower meaning, just narrow (and let it serve as metaphors). You need to be sensitive to poetry. Alert. Avoid cliched cheapos.

You did have good moments in the past. You need the whole poems written on such level.

Best,
 
Last edited:
the bath towel

--




* * *​

the bath towel on your head
a few drops shine
you stand next to the bed
in the fainting light
you eye
the mountain on the table
of cold meats
tomatoes
juicy fruit
cream
bottles waiting for their turn
and you ask
are we besieged

yes
hide under my
friday night tent
roll in like a toy train
maneuver around the
station
but ooh slowly
you're leaking fuel
around the intramural fires

​







wh,
2006-11-26
​
 
tods, your piece has the power to move and engage emotionally, packing a wallop. whilst senna's has some merit, more in its second half, it fails me as a reader as it feels weak and doesn't engage me on any visceral level.
 
ncomplete

I think of your hair, wet,
untoweled, a bit tangled
from your shower

and even though your breasts,
your hips, your thighs
are just as sheathed

with water, right now
I need to (God) comb my fingers
through your lustrous
 
addiction craves
that moment we lay spooned
in fire
that first pierce of skin
the hiss between lips and pupil dilation
the rush that surges
in uncontrolled growls
hands in your hair
as if to hold your brain together
there is no defence
under the influence

despite the sweat
in spite of the wet
drive it in deeper
plunge the stopper
inject me inside
let me play to the way you crave
a moment that takes the day from your mind
and replaces it with those urges
use me up
till I am an empty syringe
and you are full to the brim
of life
addiction assuaged

until those cravings burn from deep inside
and unabashed
un ashamed
you return again to have them tamed
 
the sound of songbird thrills
with its trills and crescendos

joy sung into night, its might led me into temptations
of flesh
the soft crush velvet smooth
sweet as kiwi fruit
sky melted into sensation
trepidation as reality is shattered on some scattered breeze

the song of hips and moans
shared breath
life's taste on the rising sun
horizon red raw

the hem of dawn pinned with promise of the morrow
sell me your sorrows
for the taste of coconut rum
on your soft lips
let us drink to life
 
Last edited:
tods, could it be your phone adding those *'s

and its

:p

apart from that, lots to like both visually and aurally in this piece
 
butters said:
tods, could it be your phone adding those *'s

and its

:p

apart from that, lots to like both visually and aurally in this piece
Click to expand...

Funny I got a pm saying exactly the same thing so I fixed them lol I think it's the phone for sure :D
 
Our eyes won't meet
you won't see the way the color rises
to my cheeks or the slight part of my

Lips that can't know yours
you can't taste their hunger
or hear the gasp that
escapes at the touch of your

Hands that will never explore
all the secret places we can't go
together we can share the fantasy
and you can have all
the hidden spaces of my mind
 
Lyric_Calli said:
Our eyes won't meet
you won't see the way the color rises
to my cheeks or the slight part of my

Lips that can't know yours
you can't taste their hunger
or hear the gasp that
escapes at the touch of your

Hands that will never explore
all the secret places we can't go
together we can share the fantasy
and you can have all
the hidden spaces of my mind
Click to expand...
quietly beautiful, cleverly arranged :rose:
 
as i stand at the sink
warm water running over my fingers
scent of lemons in the air
i can feel the tickle of your beard against my neck
the warmth of your arms around me
the long, lean you all pressed against me

a bead of sweat forms on my lip
a stray curl clings to my flushed cheek
and i squeeze the sponge a little harder
clean the plates a little faster
till they glide all smooth-ceramics
foam rising between my fingers
your murmur in my ear
 
butters said:
as i stand at the sink
warm water running over my fingers
scent of lemons in the air
i can feel the tickle of your beard against my neck
the warmth of your arms around me
the long, lean you all pressed against me

a bead of sweat forms on my lip
a stray curl clings to my flushed cheek
and i squeeze the sponge a little harder
clean the plates a little faster
till they glide all smooth-ceramics
foam rising between my fingers
your murmur in my ear
Click to expand...
..
Morning Love, you've missed a spot. :cattail:
 
butters said:
as i stand at the sink
warm water running over my fingers
scent of lemons in the air
i can feel the tickle of your beard against my neck
the warmth of your arms around me
the long, lean you all pressed against me

a bead of sweat forms on my lip
a stray curl clings to my flushed cheek
and i squeeze the sponge a little harder
clean the plates a little faster
till they glide all smooth-ceramics
foam rising between my fingers
your murmur in my ear
Click to expand...


This is why I love coming here. So sensual, I can almost feel the water on my hands.
 
Sonnets for Liesl

1.

I now am older than he was at death,
my gift far less, my love perhaps unproved.
Yet grant that I do love. Don't misconstrue
my silence for disinterest, lack of depth—
when water's stillest, goes the phrase, is when
its bed cannot be fathomed. Cool, perhaps,
and murky as a dark, occluded glass
that caches your reflection close within,
as if to part with it would bring me pain.
That better captures why reluctant words
speak haltingly what I would fain speak plain.
I do not wish to spook you. Well I know
that when too ardent, love may more disturb
than stir. So let me woo in whisper. Slow.
 
Last edited:
Sonnets for Liesl

2.

I've cut a place for you inside my heart.
The muscle should survive, regenerate,
those fibers that would make an interstate
of love from something more than simple art.

So think of this—I hold your breasts, or if
you are a man, your cock. (I know this is
suggestive, and quite possibly, way sexist.)
Perhaps we'll let it ride, some glyph

that's untranslatable. You know the beat—
a stroke, a stroke, a stroke as if somehow
mere repetition, like a mule-drawn plough
can -can at last deliver goods complete.

I will not wait for you. Not long, at least.
I will not wait for you till I'm deceased.
 
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