Old 11-19-2015, 05:49 AM   #26
Magnetron
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I see this often

His voice an erotic choir

Too generalized.

His voice was erotic
The choir sang erotically
The eroticness of the singing

Such phrases really don't convey anything other than one's inability to offer up a reason as to why this or that is erotic.

Substitute erotic with poetic and you get the same effect.

His voice a poetic choir

Well ..... what is so poetic about it?

When you explain why, you give the reader the erotica. Or the poetica. Neurotica ....?

Now I'm babbling .......
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Old 11-19-2015, 06:37 AM   #27
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oh no please feel free to babble :P Thank you for your input!

His voice a poetic choir
The single saving grace
In the depths of oblivion
Whispering in my mind
In raptured intensity
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-19-2015, 07:05 AM   #28
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His voice a choir of men in hooded robes
their manhood throbbing against my pubendic podium
my hallowed hall both filled and defiled
by their songs of jizzum jazzum released willy nilly
exceeding the limits of erotica with my creampie sigh
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Old 11-19-2015, 07:19 AM   #29
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hmmmm ok I shall play with you sir!

his voice the tainted sin
raging in the mist of fury
brimstone and hail
from the fires of hell descend
cast upon my narcotic soul
in tarnished welts of pain
filling my flesh and mind
with sutures of distain
cracked as a whip
in the depths of oblivion
captured in ecstasy
to bring back my pain
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-19-2015, 08:00 AM   #30
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His voice a choir of narwhals
their symphony the calm within a maelstrom
parting my flood waters with their horny
horns, tubas and cellos
all manner of blubbery instruments
surging from shaft to tip
breaking through the surface
urging me to abandon ship
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Old 11-19-2015, 09:01 AM   #31
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my last one sir then I must get to work :P boss or not still get fired for being late heh


crap don't have time I have to go to work I am late! duh!
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-19-2015, 10:16 PM   #32
Tzara
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Her (Very Strict) Writing Instructor; or, Punishment
for Sinseria

He reads her poems. He is displeased
And forces her onto her knees
Where, while he teases her wet folds,
Her makes her read some Sharon Olds.

.
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Old 11-19-2015, 11:32 PM   #33
Trixareforkids
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tzara View Post
Her (Very Strict) Writing Instructor; or, Punishment
for Sinseria

He reads her poems. He is displeased
And forces her onto her knees
Where, while he teases her wet folds,
Her makes her read some Sharon Olds.

.
Don't just read, listen. My favorite line "the effluvium of the offspring of the earth" great piece, great poet.
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Old 11-20-2015, 07:34 AM   #34
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upon bended knees
I will appease
I will obey
as you play with my folds
accept my punishment
with ease
I will read
I will hear
I will listen sir
to what it is you wish to say
while I pray one day
that you will share your displeasure
so that I may know
is it bound in my writings or my lack of reading
as I am certain a teacher of poetry would know
however, still
they are my writings, my heart and soul
and all I know


as I have read
as I have listened
many times again
the poem read
is sounds subdued
almost sublime
the words I heard
and understood ...though interesting subject matter I must say
I shall write an ode for you sir
given time as life does ensue reality away from here
thank you for sharing sir
as I will share as well
one of my favorites

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/still-i-rise/



PS You should honestly sir have your meter count thread as sticky note to the site :P
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-20-2015 at 09:52 AM.
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Old 11-20-2015, 07:50 AM   #35
Sinseria
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Give All

Give All



Every day I breathe
My soul cries in damnation
Begging for redemption
Of my tainted mind

I watch as my dreams die
Dissipating into nothing
As if my sins erased them all
Lost forever internally
Bound in my obscurities

As I am the broken
I am the damned
The lost wondering soul
Trapped in my misguided ways

As I can never give enough
Or serve enough, care enough
I can never believe enough
To know what I am capable of
So I push myself, till I am nothing
Till I am broken, shattered in pieces
Ten thousand tiny feeble morsels
Of my tainted soul spent

Lost in the wind without meaning
Abused and beaten, broken and tainted
Taken by anyone …just to feel something
Only to feel pain, hate rejection from life
Eternally giving to nothing
Until there is nothing left to give

Searching endlessly forever
For acceptance, for a meaning
To feel the need of a cause
A purpose, a reason
To surrender with a promise
Of love to another in service
To honor, cherish and obey

Claimed in his power and control
Kept in his sanctified protection
Of my complete being
Bound in his loving arms
As he holds the tiny feeble
Morsels of my soul in place
As if stitched back together
Piece by tiny piece
From the strings of angels wings

As to be loved and wanted
To learn and humble
My unworthy self before another
In search of guidance and understanding
Of what I cannot comprehend
What I cannot control

I feel forever, yearning for ratification
Of my entire being
As with every tainted sin and desire
Every amusement, every pleasure
With every action of service to another
I feel …alive

Every bruise, every welt and pain
Upon my barren flesh
I feel …alive

Every cut, slash and sting
My body cries
I feel …alive

Every drop of lustful blood drawn
From my veins
I feel …alive

Because I feel too much
I give too much, care too much
Never leaving room to breathe
To see my devotion
My loving lusting soul
Rapt in unbridled emotions

Because with each tiny
Sacred morsel of my soul
We the subservient ones
Will always give all
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-22-2015 at 12:16 AM.
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Old 11-20-2015, 07:52 PM   #36
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Poetry Class, Day Two

Her wrists are bound, her legs splayed wide,
her Teacher calmly by her side.

She strains a bit and whimpers No!
He reads Kim Addonizio,

and pulls her hair a bit. She squawks.
He chuckles, reads her Dorianne Laux.

Her will now broken, she consents
to one last poem: D. H. Lawrence.


Note: "Ms. Laux' name is pronounced like "locks."
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Old 11-20-2015, 10:14 PM   #37
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Bound, splayed in lustful pose
could it be? I wonder truly if he knows
perhaps? or no? A mere wishful dream, the true nemeses of my mind
a lustful teacher, a lesson to learn, something to find
three poems he has put before me
and I wonder what it could be?
the meter count? the stanza build? the rhyme?
perhaps the punctuation? I hope I learn in time

the first I must admit
I did not truly feel ...just not my fit

the second I could see
a true picture in my mind ...it could be

the third also painted for me a picture
beauteous in rhyme and structure


as I was searching and studding today oh glorious sir ...on the finer definition and structure of writing and ode ...
I came across this poem ...
though I am sure you have heard most I could find ...
though I thought I would share perhaps amuse a moment of your time

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173747
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-20-2015, 10:20 PM   #38
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Forever

Forever


I bear a hunger inside of me
a craving need, a desperate desire
Forever, painted on the stars

Tainted pictures of pain and power
Drawn upon my barren flesh
In dire loving pose
I search for a dream

Forever, bound in sin and love
No yesterdays, no tomorrows
Only now and forever

I yearn for a Master True
Above all and any others

He will be a sinner of saints
A demon of my shame
With the essence of a devil
And the power of control

He will tempt my darkness
Contaminate and use my lustful ways
While keeping me completely composed

He will teach me of my being
The value and worth of a slave
In the acceptance of body, heart and soul

He will guide my thoughts
In obedience- to obey, cherish and honor
The pain in my barren heart fulfilled

He will bear the soul of truth
In sensations and emotions while rapt in security
While he speaks to my spirit and mind

He will touch me in ways
The gods would turn in shame
As I am bound to the depths of his command

His testimony, his confessions of sins
Born upon my soul, my barren flesh
Will read only of his glory

When heavens descend
Through fire and ice
Brimstone and hail

They will know of passions pain
The lusting rage tempered on my flesh
Of tainted sin, sadistic wraths
Neurotic deeds, sweet obsessions fed

They will know the power of love
Forever in the unbroken connection
In the obedience and devotion
Of a Master and slave
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-22-2015 at 12:10 AM.
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Old 11-21-2015, 12:56 AM   #39
todski28
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that slick sound that slips
whispered sweet perversions
hiss through this first stage

where the sibilance
traces lines on supple skin
where gasps for breath
are music for my muse
where wrists are bound
behind your back
exposing you for
my touch
tender soft
and I take you
with passion that makes you feel
this restraint frees what once was bound
allows my control to dictate the way
you respond

and tonight I want your cum
to taste it
to drink of you
so prepare yourself
to be fucked into senseless time distortion
where the world melts away into flashes
of tongue
fingers
wands
and nothing more could you want

spreader bars splay ankles wide
open for my entrance
now beg my pet
as I raise the ties
that hold your desires
in soft silk
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Old 11-21-2015, 06:31 AM   #40
Sinseria
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Ow! Another for my page!
I am going to step outside my box
As I reply to you sir

I pray you sir why wait for tonight
Let us embrace the sunrise as it seeps into the sky
Shall we dance by starlight?

Let us wake the world aroused in painted sin
As you pull me from drifting dreams
With your silken scarf’s and the binding of my bread
As you would have me sir
Bound and gasping for sainted sins
I will dance in your bed to sing sweet cries
As a choir to the mornings tainted dew
Caressed like a devils toy I will play for you

Come now sir bring for me
Your spreader bars and passion rods
To the musings of your soul
Let us fornicate as sinners of the night
To the gleaming sensations of its rousing light
Let me feel such sweet devastations
To the waking wetness you do implore
I beg of you sir come drink of my flesh,
Taste the huney kissed nectar of the morning’s dew
For the morning is young and it calls for you
Tempered in my cradle of waking need
As the sunrise approaches lets feel the world anew

Take from me sir my reservations
In an effigy to your senses
As a muse in your waking bed
Free me from my delusions
As you distort me senseless




Heh sorry had to fix a few words due to everything being sweet because you to sleepy
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-21-2015 at 11:31 AM.
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Old 11-21-2015, 03:09 PM   #41
Sinseria
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Butters!!!

So I went through one of my old poems hun using your technique of editing ...and well ya know what it really works I think ...Thanks again hun! will post it here in a minute got to finish typing it up ...even if pain isn't your thing :P
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-21-2015, 03:35 PM   #42
Sinseria
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Heavens Kiss

Heavens Kiss


Here I sit by candlelight sunder
Watching the flames flicker
From its sweltering embers
Swaying to internal desire
With such enticement wrought
Of molten wax to purge tainted skin

Drip …burn …drip …burn

It trickles down like acid rain
Straight from heavens sent
Upon my barren chest
Fusing traces of my flesh
Caressing my longing breasts
In trails of melted tears

Drip … burn …drip …burn

Traversing sins of flesh
Arousing searing passions
Adorning in waves of neurotic pain
Infused with scorching rage
Defiling with willful pleasures
Soothing cooling tempered flame
A fevered kiss of raptured bliss

Drip …burn …drip …burn

Branded paths of temptations met
Encrusted remnants on varnished skin
Seething sensations ravished touch
Blistering fervor in my seductive soul
Heavens kiss scorned upon naked flesh
My lustful soul is fed
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-22-2015, 09:57 AM   #43
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Invisible

Invisible


I lost myself somewhere
I was born into shame
And gifted a life of pain

As I silenced my demons
At the cost of my soul
I rejected them all

Denied every single dream
Left them empty, broken
Hollowed in my despair

I the walking corpse of life
Exiled inside myself
Veiled and invisible
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-23-2015, 09:57 AM   #44
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I Fall

Sooooooo ...I was going to participate in GM's erotica poem guessing challenge ...however, the poem I don't think would fall under definition terms of erotica :P but I thought I would share it as it was written for the site ...and the picture absolutely spoke volumes to me ...feel free to critique or what not if you wish ...




https://gmcblogs.files.wordpress.com...t-22-10-06.png



I Fall


See the shadows
Silhouettes on the wall
Empty, broken alone
Always I fall

Whipped and beaten
Scorned across the floor
In anguish of love
Torn I fall

A cut through the chest
Bares my desolate soul
Sheathed in despair
In sorrow I fall

Tender slices of my heart
Through tainted fire and sin
Trapped in my bitter walls
Deeper and darker I fall

Fragile dreams
Torn from the seams
Forgot how to fly
Broken I fall

Shattered only by a word
That cold, cruel unforgiving
Goodbye …
Heartless I fall

Lost in my hell
Just another little slice
To silence it all
Tainted I fall

A soulless breathe
A thousand tears
A tomb of death
Forever I fall
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-24-2015, 12:35 PM   #45
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Masters of Love

Masters of Love


We are the dreamers
The deviant ones …
Blessed by the night
For we are the Masters of life

Raging in need
Sweet bitter indulgences
Of a sinner …a saint
Enthralled in pleasure
Of depraved deeds
By the grace of our souls
Rapt in neurotic bliss

We are the sinners
The broken ones …
Kissed by the darkness
For we are the Masters of sin

Blazing passions
Felt upon our willing flesh
Scorning, welting …pain
Catered and caressed
Touched and sanctified
Aching, burning …needing
Freely given …freely taken
Gratifying sadistic bliss

We are the desires,
The damned ones …
The darkness in the light
For we are the Masters of lust

Taken by virtue
By obsessions of sins
The power and control
Cast in obedience,
Of Master and slave
Bound in sacred ecstasy
In the arms of each other
we shall feel, forever, in sin

We are the passion,
The power of emotion …
Claimed by the trusted heart
For we are the subservient Masters of love
__________________
Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-24-2015 at 12:49 PM.
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Old 11-24-2015, 08:52 PM   #46
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5 sense challenge

Sight: a kite flying
sound: ducks
scent: grass
taste: spice
touch: gloves


Must Live

What do you see with your eyes?
When you look upon the world
And cast your gaze to the sky

Do you see a kite flying in the winds?
Soaring and dancing to the heavens
On the wings of dreams carried by angels

Or do you see it crashing in dismay?
Colliding upon the ground to its bitter end
Because you’re too afraid to fly with the wind

Do you hear the ducks singing you praises?
“Quacking” their songs as if a chant and rhyme
That spring has finally come home to hold you safe

Or do you hear the misery of their tune?
Cast in the deadly avian flu tainting the world of man
To rest upon your shoulders to take you to the promise land

Do you smell the aroma of the grass and roses?
In the spring, in the sun and in the rain
The fragrance of the sweet smells of spring

Or do you smell the seaweed of your soul?
Drowning in the rains gasping for its last breathe
Clinging to the heady scent of your bitter sorrow

Do you taste the spice of life?
The salty sweet remembrances
Of the first slice of fresh baked apple pie

Or do you taste the rotten flesh
Corroding on your lips from deaths begotten kiss
In the desolate tomb of your blistering heart

Do you chance to live true and free?
To touch upon the world blessed gifts of love
Wrap yourself in gleeful and loving things

Or do you wrap yourself in pain?
Coveted and sanctified in your loathing self
Bound in your white glove of shame

We paint our pictures and tell our tales
We live our life’s bound in memories
Tainted pains and happy joys

But is we who make the stories
It is we who must lie in the bed of
What the future may hold

Paint your picture well my friend
For it is you who must live.
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 11-26-2015 at 09:29 AM.
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Old 11-25-2015, 06:12 AM   #47
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My Craven Soul

My Craven Soul

Alone in my darkness,
by candle light sunder,
my soul does converse
with shadows and fire.

Lost to an unlived life,
my mind does traverse,
on forsaken thoughts,
of a forbidden time.

Upon my broken soul,
Rapt by secrets untold,
my life does bleed;
in a world of misery.

My flesh does bear,
the craven sins of my mind.
With self inflicted scars,
to purge all it holds.

Blood sweet trails,
crucified on barren flesh,
scorned by a thousand tears,
in a shame that never ends.

The untested will,
of broken dreams,
from empty promises in vain,
of a life that will never be.

The eternal price is paid,
extorted from my veins.
as a vial of liquid poison,
released inside of me.

Alone in my darkness,
to my neurotic heart …I keep
engraved upon my being,
the depravity of my craven soul.
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith

Last edited by Sinseria : 06-16-2016 at 11:24 PM.
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Old 11-25-2015, 11:11 PM   #48
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Happy Whore; Forevermore

Happy Whore, Forevermore


Welcome
One and all
To a lovers game
Enter if you will
A play for rights
Of ownership

A holy bond between
Master and slave
Always in time
Constant change

Wants and wills
With tempered needs
As desires fade
and rise anew
For the glory of
Sexual sensations

In need for power
Of lusting control
A mental game
Of wills

A learning trust
Enticement of the mind
Body and soul
Burning passions
Beyond control

A dance of intrigue
Of tempted touches
And lusting kisses
Seductive perversions

With a neurotic move
A game for the mind
Shall we play?

A play sincere
And you will have
Possession of a heart
Bound in admiration
Obsessive devotion
The sacred connection
With a serving soul
As your happy whore
Forevermore
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-26-2015, 10:38 AM   #49
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Ode to a Poetic Teacher

soooooo ...previously I stated that I was going to write an ode ...and I so have not ever ventured into ode writing ...definitely a lot of learning for me yaya ...definitely a different style / format and writing structure and way different word usage then I am use to :P I didn't use taint death dying sin evil or nothing! lol

feel free to critique or what not if you will ...Tzara hopefully this will not displease you :P


Ode to a Poetic Teacher


Oh poetic teacher of mine
The flesh and blood of my written tongue
The rhymester of my darkened design
The wordsmith, the poet, the writer
The versifier, they lyricist, the bard
The author and critic of tempted words
Bound by the holly quill by the lessons
Of a instructor an educator in structure
In guidance of scripture and lexis
Bear now the raping of my verbal mind
To the self made professor of my soul

Cast for me your knowledge
The unrefined power of your mind
With your tongue of liquid gold
Teach me all you know
Let me be the withered barren parchment
To savor the black ink from your feathered pen
Upon your sainted rhymes of aurous
I will scribe your English lessons
Composed of the literacy in your head
To quench the aridness of desire
The flesh and blood of my written tongue

Lay before me your lesson plan
In a grace of the arts lost in a begotten time
And on bended knees I will be your epitome
I will read, I will hear I will listen and I will learn
I will obey the structure of your curriculum
Of the Haiku, the Ode, the, Sonnet, to the verse alone
The power of your emotion cast in poetic form
Sentenced to the formation by your cantata
To the rhythm count of your devouring symphony
Bound in the syllabus and ballad of your soul
The rhymester of my darkened design

In the lustrations of your raging words
Bound in punctuation, meter counts and rhymes
In your natural reticence guide my way
To the error of my awkward phrases and comma splices
Edify for me the rhapsody found in your verses
Inscribe for me your words of assonance and pose
The fulfillment of my obsessive dreams
In a play of sacred nouns, verbs and adjectives
As an effigy to my thankful esteem
The wordsmith, the poet, the writer
Oh poetic teacher
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Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
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Old 11-27-2015, 06:46 AM   #50
Sinseria
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Sorrow

Sorrow



In the shower I stood today
And the water fell like devils rain
I tried to wash my soul away

Scorning flesh and sin
Through scolding tears of water sent
Though my sins remain

I paused for but a moment
In a trance like thought
Casting my gaze into the steamy mirror
Upon my wasted burning flesh
Past my hazel eyes I searched
Into the depths of my mind

There I see the bars of my design
The prison cells built from flesh and blood
Sanctified in the entombment of my mind

As a child these walls I did create
For protection of things unknown
Desires of the unseen and unwanted
Always pervasive to the wretchedness
Of my very being

Wrapped in stone bared in steal
Behind my walls of protection
To shield me from all I hold

As I traverse this darkened path
I find my demons, my shames and unlived sins
Locked within each room securely sealed
Tainted thoughts and wishes concealed
With the secrets of my soul forever hidden

Slowly over time my demons grew
Bound in the memories of life
Cast in the infections of my thoughts

As I venture further in the years of memories
They begin to grow …the bars stronger …the walls thicker
The cells even darker in the depravity of my mind

But wait, there in front of me, I do behold
In the farthest, deepest recess of my core
My eyes fall upon a child like image of me
So feeble, so frail upon her knees, in tainted pose
Adorned with chains and shackles locked upon the wall
As an added compliment to the bars of my soul

Scorned upon this craven child in tears forevermore
Here before me now, upon bended knees …

My innocents and dreams

As she once stood so strong, so beautiful, so free
The years did pass by and the shadows grew along the walls
One by one they danced around her with poisoned distain
Feeding her only misery and pain
While keeping her rapt in vales of eroding sin

Now I see this barren feeble thing
…in torment, in despair
This horrible thing I have done
…for protection, for shame

As now the only name she has to bear
Cast down from my broken life and remorseful pain
In blackened dreams of deficiency
Scribed upon her child like flesh

…Sorrow

…tainted Sorrow.
__________________
Sinseria

I asked her if she
believed in love, and she
smiled and said it was her
most elaborate method
of self-harm.

Benedict Smith
  Reply With Quote
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