Bistro Bijou

[Homburg]

They're fun to write, arent they? I especially like that last one of yours. It reminded me of this poem, which eagleyez wrote.

*snip the poem*

They are fun to write. Not looking for deep meaning, just talkin' 'bout tits. Excellent idea.

Interestingly, my relationship with ye olde 5-7-5 has been a long and tortured one. I would labour for hours trying to find the right sound/image/etc and fail miserably, and other times would just toss the words out, light as a feather.

And the poem was lovely. Very evocative of image and emotion.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Breasts? Ah now here I have my crowning glory! Not as firm as they used to be alas but with more than a handful each what can one expect. In fact I very rarely seen such large nips on anyone else ... Raspberries/Loganberries/chapel hat pegs ? I was a late developer but suddenly blossomed

Nipples of perfection,
proud succulent berries.
So large, so suckable,
drawing you to my breast
to nuzzle and arouse they
stand erect, my jewels
to be crowned only by
your string of pearls.

 

[Homburg]

Nipples of perfection,
proud succulent berries.
So large, so suckable,
drawing you to my breast
to nuzzle and arouse they
stand erect, my jewels
to be crowned only by
your string of pearls.

My name is Homburg, and I approve of this message.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

that hat looks like it might fit ..........

 

[unpredictablebijou]

My name is Homburg, and I approve of this message.

LOL! Seconded, in spades!

Time for a new fridge.

I'll get right on that.

bj

 

[unpredictablebijou]

More Fridge Poems

Want to touch your silken hair
Please don't mind me if I stare

Queen of May...
...May I?

Hair round which the flowers ring
Lady makes the Robins sing

Queen of May...
...May I?

Want to taste your lips of wine
Springtime momma, oh so fine

Queen of May...
...May I?

Touch that makes the flowers grow
Beauty makes the breezes blow

Queen of May...
...May I?

Feel your warmth down in my bones
Sing to you in dulcet tones

Queen of May...
...May I?

Take your hand to dance and whirl
And find the woman in the girl

Queen of May...
...May I?

-

I have no fear of the future
for it's the past that holds this
imprisoned soul.
Curling tendrils of memory
staunch and suffocate,
some misted, some stark charred,
burn where they touch.
Tying painful knots, cracked
but holding still.
Paint peeling festering sores
locked away, breaking free
to haunt.

Spiralled whorls of shining cord
strung thick around glorious curves.
Shhh, don't speak. Watch
blood draw mottled delight
on flesh with ropes stretched
tightness determined by each breath.
Ohhh, yes darling. Moan
happy thrills with raised down.
Your spine becomes a pathway
for this line of coarser strands
twisted up against the lines of qi.
Hmmm, my love? Bound
up in desire and need, secure
wraps just right for comfort
but if we pull and loosen this one-
Yesss, I'm ready.

Darkroom

In the darkroom he works quietly
as if alone, padding back and forth.
It’s a small space, but he moves
easily in confidence he checks
the time he adjusts the emulsion.

Careful man.
Methodical.

Spacing prints just so,
studying images, thinking
of balance, thinking of ambiguity,
the contradiction of light and dark,
and the gray border blends of these.

“Why is there pain in pleasure?”

His low voice is answered
in the sibilance of her breath.

He rises before her.
His eyes traverse the silk
of her silk, the silk of her skin,
the curve of her hip poised
straining to maintain her balance
of heel to floor.

The drape of her wrists bound
above her
the purple grosgrain
lying in petals against
the ivory grace of her still hands.

‘Why is there liberation in control?”

he says arranging the swath of her hair
in shining complement to her breast.

He caresses her cheek,
sets her face aside the outstretched arm,
and smiling tenderly
their eyes meet.

He traces her smile
behind the leather
and whispers

“Why is this love?”

extend that graceful line
elegant scar a cleavage
of mystery for what else
but life and death mastery
can arouse this pain
life won't surrender love
but knots it tight and ties
me to this place of delicate
kisses on bright skin through
this cord, this winding curve
pattern of hitch and bight
shows plump ripeness
pressed to join the tracery
of scalpel and cable
held bare and open
that you touch my heart

Like tongued trails sweeping
under and around nipples
standing proud,
weaving patterns
paisley
sensuous velvet
and silken tresses
painted as in oils
spreading, separating
bound
yet opened by a masters fingers

On my rearview mirror:

Temporary but it feels like forever,
I hate that the stick man
has a wheelchair to ride
and I must bow to the demons
of geneology and park
close to the door
in case another tendon
snaps.

in the bathhouse
second time ever there - tonight

the other time to watch, but
to try my first cock - tonight

I sit there naked
cocks all around - tonight

walking, setting, leaning, yearning
cocks all around - tonight

I sit there naked
he walks up to me - tonight

I'm a white cock-virgin
his black cock now in my face - tonight

now
together - tonight

later we lightly touch
as we pass one-another in the shower-room - tonight

I have led a sheltered life
my most dangerous
thrill ride
was to show those pilots
on their prelanding pass
exactly how white
my panties were, against
the grass down
by my feet up in the air
over his shoulders
I could see their O2 masks
making O shapes
over their mouths.

Digs out an old one about MY experience!

I lay back upon the pillows
and watch you being licked
tasted then engulfed.
The pained look then
surprised excitement
from the first time
taken for my fantasy,
as I play to orgasm
seeing your delightful
hardness springing
till you moan, all else
forgotten in ecstasy.

'Mind in a spot where there is no thought'

I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Tight, get TIGHT.
Hands on, right spot?
Breathe.
I can do this.
I own this.
Go.
BreatheBreatheBreathe
UP!
Slide the foot,
not too fast.
Wider, wider.
Breathe. Breathe.
Big air.
TIGHT.
Sit back hold the spine big air hips then knees hips then knees stay tight
fuck this is heavy
grip it tight knees out hips hips hips tear it apart eyes bugging out chest wants to burst
Depth? Yeah?
PUSHPUSHPUSHPUSHPUSHPUSH
Slam it on the pins and roar my bloody exultation to the uncaring lights

Rope circles her breasts
Lines and wraps tangle her chest
Nipples are pleasured

--

They stand forth proudly
Swaying lush before my eyes
I burn to feel her

--

My hands find softness
Darkness gives slight modesty
Eyes are not needed

--

Step in behind her
Travel the arc of her ribs
Repose in mountains

Tree Line
by eagleyez©

The gates of wrath
Some powerful wine
Made under tenderfoot and
Danced down Blake alleys
Visioned beneath Satori storms
And nuzzled between informations.

Oh chest
Oh eyes
Ribs
Thighs-

Crumbled, we
Became
Pillars
Ashed
Up
In
Tiny mountains.

Sacred, those
Mounds
Your
Holy
Timberline.
*************************

~Sigh~

Nipples of perfection,
proud succulent berries.
So large, so suckable,
drawing you to my breast
to nuzzle and arouse they
stand erect, my jewels
to be crowned only by
your string of pearls.

And sent via PM by 'Mike the Lurker':

Absinthe
by Mike the Lurker

Better the taste of a Tim Horton’s

Boston chocolate cream on your lips

No languid club

Feverish coupling in the midst

of a cold north wind blow

Feeling only heat

not strobe lights, but aurora borealis

and internal ropes

tight and relaxed around our heart and soul

hearing

Springtime

the tip of my tongue on your bud,

better than my first cherry sundae

moving

like early Elvis.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

It is cold and damp here. Not Spring damp, not that lovely fertile wet air, but Winter damp, bone freezing, grating, mean-spirited ankle-biting pneumonia-riddled damp.

hot soup for everyone. Hot coffee and hot ideas. Let's at least go for warm and damp, if damp it must be. Warm and damp is rarely a bad idea...

Also on the menu, served piping hot:

Hot Scene

Hot Dish

Hot Topic

Hot Idea

Hot Temper

Hot House Flower

Hothead

bj

eta: Yes, that IS Doris Day and Ginger Rogers. You're not hallucinating. Okay maybe you are, I mean what do I know about what you're doing, but that's still Doris Day and Ginger Rogers.

 

[champagne1982]

And sent via PM by 'Mike the Lurker':

Absinthe
by Mike the Lurker

Better the taste of a Tim Horton’s

Boston chocolate cream on your lips

No languid club

Feverish coupling in the midst

of a cold north wind blow

Feeling only heat

not strobe lights, but aurora borealis

and internal ropes

tight and relaxed around our heart and soul

hearing

Springtime

the tip of my tongue on your bud,

better than my first cherry sundae

moving

like early Elvis.

Gotta luv those lurker boyz especially when they make me pm you samples like this .. <sigh> you should hear him read poetry... that's almost as good as him writing it.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Gotta luv those lurker boyz especially when they make me pm you samples like this .. <sigh> you should hear him read poetry... that's almost as good as him writing it.

I say we winkle him out............no one lurks for long around these parts.



Oh Mike-eeee.

 

[Homburg]

that hat looks like it might fit ..........

*lets you borrow the hat for a test fit*

I've got a pretty big head, you know...

-------

Hot Idea

Oh. Mah. Goodness.

Hot House Flower

eta: Yes, that IS Doris Day and Ginger Rogers. You're not hallucinating. Okay maybe you are, I mean what do I know about what you're doing, but that's still Doris Day and Ginger Rogers.

I'm so digging that photo. Seriously.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Big head /big hands ..... is everything big about you?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Absinthe was the Green fairy you know ... I tried to pen something once I knew but it flittered off

bj do you bake cakes for special occassions ?,,,,,,,,, just askin'

 

[Homburg]

Big head /big hands ..... is everything big about you?

Small is just not an apt descriptor for me in any meaningful sense.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Hmmmm we could have a problem then ... how do I put this delicately? I havent had kids sooooooo .........

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Hmmmm we could have a problem then ... how do I put this delicately? I havent had kids sooooooo .........

*the bartender slides subtly over to eavesdrop on this absolutely fascinating little conversation. She thinks quietly to herself, darlin' you'd be surprised just how... accomodating the physical body can be...*

 

[Angeline]

*the bartender slides subtly over to eavesdrop on this absolutely fascinating little conversation. She thinks quietly to herself, darlin' you'd be surprised just how... accomodating the physical body can be...*

Is that you behind the bar? Hmmm, I need a goofy drink tonight. I'll have a Singapore Sling.

tyvm,
Angeline (who only likes drinks that taste like Slurpees. I'm soooo sophisticated)

 

[champagne1982]

Is that you behind the bar? Hmmm, I need a goofy drink tonight. I'll have a Singapore Sling.

tyvm,
Angeline (who only likes drinks that taste like Slurpees. I'm soooo sophisticated)

Y'know, if you drop the grenadine, that drink takes on the respectability of breakfast juice... just sayin'.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Absinthe was the Green fairy you know ... I tried to pen something once I knew but it flittered off

bj do you bake cakes for special occassions ?,,,,,,,,, just askin'

Indeed I do, and with very little warning. What's the occasion? Your first experience with a Homburg?
Bet it'll fit... The HAT, I mean. The HAT.

Small is just not an apt descriptor for me in any meaningful sense.

You fiend. You heartless fiend.

Is that you behind the bar? Hmmm, I need a goofy drink tonight. I'll have a Singapore Sling.

tyvm,
Angeline (who only likes drinks that taste like Slurpees. I'm soooo sophisticated)

I once hurt myself very badly on those frothy girly martini things. I believe the specific poison was a chocolate raspberry affair. Tastes like yummy ice cream and makes you terrifyingly charming.

but I can't recommend drinking six of them.

a singapore sling for the lovely poetess.

Y'know, if you drop the grenadine, that drink takes on the respectability of breakfast juice... just sayin'.

yeah, but grenadine is so yummy and vivid!

It's great with orange juice. Or vanilla creme soda.

72 degrees here today but there's an ice storm coming this evening that will take us back to single digits.

ah, kansas in february.

bj

 

[Angeline]

Y'know, if you drop the grenadine, that drink takes on the respectability of breakfast juice... just sayin'.

I know. I love the grenadine. Mmmmm. In all honesty, I'd probably like grenadine and soda on the rocks best, but I used to like Singapore Slings, used to drink em with an old boyfriend. And amazingly, unlike others I knew, I could drink a bunch of them and not get dead blotto.

 

[WickedEve]

Hmmmm we could have a problem then ... how do I put this delicately? I havent had kids sooooooo .........

Are you bragging about your unstretched pussy?
I have kids. Both c-sections.
Yes, world, I have an itsy bitsy vagina!
I have a tiny twat and I can still get big things stuffed inside it, like a carburetor.

 

[Angeline]

<snip>

I once hurt myself very badly on those frothy girly martini things. I believe the specific poison was a chocolate raspberry affair. Tastes like yummy ice cream and makes you terrifyingly charming.

but I can't recommend drinking six of them.

a singapore sling for the lovely poetess.

<snip>

bj

Thank you, Ms. B'tender. It's an odd thing, I can drink hard liquor in pretty good quantity and all that happens is I get this amazing clarity (well it seems amazing as it's happening lol), but two beers or two glasses of wine and I get silly, four or more and I get really drunk. And not in a good way.

 

[Angeline]

Are you bragging about your unstretched pussy?
I have kids. Both c-sections.
Yes, world, I have an itsy bitsy vagina!
I have a tiny twat and I can still get big things stuffed inside it, like a carburetor.

Oooh! Evie in the house! Get her a drink--she drinks now I hear.

(I think Eve and I should get drunk together. I'd puke and she'd take pictures of it. Um. Maybe not.)

 

[WickedEve]

Oooh! Evie in the house! Get her a drink--she drinks now I hear.

(I think Eve and I should get drunk together. I'd puke and she'd take pictures of it. Um. Maybe not.)

I've slowed down. Saturdays were turning into vodka Saturdays and vodka robs me of my ability to speak, which seemed to please Hugo greatly. He is also pleased by my small vagina.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Are you bragging about your unstretched pussy?
I have kids. Both c-sections.
Yes, world, I have an itsy bitsy vagina!
I have a tiny twat and I can still get big things stuffed inside it, like a carburetor.

*laughing so hard i am disturbing the customers*

Eve, you are totally my hero.

Yes, thank you, those of us who have had carburetors (children) are still capable of providing a perfectly snug fit even to the moderately endowed.

the body is an amazing thing, n'est-ce pas?

especially Eve's.

bj

 

[Angeline]

*laughing so hard i am disturbing the customers*

Eve, you are totally my hero.

Yes, thank you, those of us who have had carburetors (children) are still capable of providing a perfectly snug fit even to the moderately endowed.

the body is an amazing thing, n'est-ce pas?

especially Eve's.

bj

Eve is totally wicked. And I think she had an alt once called Dancing Vagina or Prancing Pussy or something like that. Not Little Kitty though.

There's a whole subgenre of poetry here written about Eve's er parts.