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The Monthly Poetry Challenge, July 2007

Lauren Hynde

Lauren Hynde

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Apr 11, 2002
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I'm just filling in for Senna Jawa, who is the real issuer of the challenge:

write a poem (or a song) about a virgin porno writer.​

Do it properly, and maybe Senna will come by and critique it for you. ;)

As usual (?), poems and critiques should be posted in this thread whenever you have something to say, before the end of the month.
 
Senna Jawa said:
write a poem (or a song) about a virgin porno writer.​
Click to expand...
Points for Clarification

What does this mean?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a virgin writer of pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a (sexual or otherwise) virgin who is writing pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a virgin writer on Irvine Welsh's novel Porno?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a (sexual or otherwise) virgin who is (reading or writing about) Irvine Welsh's novel Porno?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a writer of virgin pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a a a a a....
  • Write a poem (or song) write now about virginity.
  • Write a poem (or song) write now about pornography.
  • Write a poem (or song) write warning virgins about geography.
  • Write a poem (or song) write writing virgins angelography.
  • Write a poem (or song)
  • Write a poem
  • Write a poem (or song)
  • (or song)
  • Write a virgin porno song (or poem). Be long.
  • Write a poem.
Remix the above the above the above.

This is my poem. Or song. Be kind. Go long.
 
Last edited:
cliché drivel
pander to mindless
stock scene regression
pretend it’s something new
cum back baby
tell me you got off
 
Tzara said:
Points for Clarification

What does this mean?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a virgin writer of pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a (sexual or otherwise) virgin who is writing pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a virgin writer on Irvine Welsh's novel Porno?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a (sexual or otherwise) virgin who is (reading or writing about) Irvine Welsh's novel Porno?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a writer of virgin pornography?
  • Write a poem (or song) about a a a a a....
  • Write a poem (or song) write now about virginity.
  • Write a poem (or song) write now about pornography.
  • Write a poem (or song) write warning virgins about geography.
  • Write a poem (or song) write writing virgins angelography.
  • Write a poem (or song)
  • Write a poem
  • Write a poem (or song)
  • (or song)
  • Write a virgin porno song (or poem). Be long.
  • Write a poem.
Click to expand...

Yes, of course!
 
Hm! Came with a question, regarding definitional leeway of 'virgin' for this exercise.
Hand down, answers fulfilled.

Sure.
 
in, out
up, down
banshee screams
hope they
bend that way
outside of my dreams
 
She thought of the transfusion
in kissing when tenderness is liquid

and of the opaque transparency
of sweat when love is made

she thought of the sway
of bodies that grows in lovers

she thought of things
no one else knew of

she thought of cars
and where to drive them
and who to drive them with

but there was no one.
 
a virgin porno writer

--


a virgin porno writer


baby sister! she shouts
and hugs me
i feel her stallions
riding me by proxy

i post steamy stories
from my big sister account
she gets laid
she hugs me
and i keep writing

it used to be fun
​


Senna Jawa,
2007-07-03
 
Last edited:
Virgin

Alone,
all is box-lit
monochrome.

The way is
three years long:
three years longing
blue-gray stares
and prompts to play
a thousand strokes
to fill the head
with guilty Joy
and it is done----

a mess, but fit
for pleasure.
 
Write what you know,
the teacher said.
Don't dream up fantasies
inside your head,
and expect them all to come
true.

So now I rustle my fingertip
confession
across the qwerty pad
of my obsession
to leave hymen invioably
whole.

I'll write what I know
about my folds
and creases down low
that my fingers hold
and ache for a stranger's
touch.

Maybe it'll bring me love
Maybe, it will be dirty,
Maybe it'll get me fucked
maybe I'll just keep it flirty

One thing's certain
and for sure
I know virginity's
a powerful lure
even if I don't get kissed
I'll end up like all ex-virgins do...
Fucked.
 
The Virgin Writing About His Sexual Adventures With Mature Ladies

He likes to write about those milfs
That he has never tried.
As long as I don't read Mom's name,
Since Dad has cause enough for blame,
Who cares if he has lied?
 
haze hung hard
o'er the la basin

like a quincy re-run.

the charmed
still
saw the
air they ate.

hollywood luau.

across the hillside pool,
a topless gal
intrigued
beyond
the icy glare
of
her partner...

she'd outgrow the little bitch.
she had before.

such perfect breasts;
devilish smile.
a wanton handfull
two drinks from now.

the one who brought me
got me off, though.
the lesbian's dance
just an element...

perhaps a plaything
in
our later cups...

her bitch friend could watch.
she had before.

the one who brought me
took squeeze of me
beneath the
hot tub turbulence.

you like?
you like again?

i like now,
through asian eyes;
fingertips trace-trancing
at my hidden self.

let's make the nasty one cry.

we both smiled
for the topless one:
an invitation.
​

virgin porn is new porn
new porn
is
better
 
boone's fortified
she trembles
takes a deep breath
and types the word:

vulva

and shudders...

"What would Mother think?"
 
Broken

silence roared through her with every thought put to pen
she trembled inside then described it again
her hands kept busy between her legs and the pen
no virgins left standing when she writes the end

memories played with her wants and desires
as scenes from her single bed burned in her fire
she watched inhibition as it sank in the mire
a moist pungent sweat her only attire

they stood there speechless as she rose from the bed
where there once lay a virgin now just a stain on the spread

she stood in her naked sexual pose
as proof of the knowledge her pen would now hold
ran down her thighs she felt suddenly cold
no virgin it seems ever grows old
 
emaalr said:
silence roared through her with every thought put to pen
she trembled inside then described it again
her hands kept busy between her legs and the pen
no virgins left standing when she writes the end

memories played with her wants and desires
as scenes from her single bed burned in her fire
she watched inhibition as it sank in the mire
a moist pungent sweat her only attire

they stood there speechless as she rose from the bed
where there once lay a virgin now just a stain on the spread

she stood in her naked sexual pose
as proof of the knowledge her pen would now hold
ran down her thighs she felt suddenly cold
no virgin it seems ever grows old
Click to expand...
emaalr was a virgin on Lit
who wrote poems of sex just to fit
into exquisite
and prerequisite
challenge parameters a bit.
 
parameters lost and found

champagne1982 said:
emaalr was a virgin on Lit
who wrote poems of sex just to fit
into exquisite
and prerequisite
challenge parameters a bit.
Click to expand...

it was in my virginal haste
I lay my good sesnses to waste
in trying to rhyme
I now see that I've
been writing with so little taste

parameters are to be challenged
so I wrote that last line to see
would I then find another line ending
in a word spelled ****ed

I guess I could brush up my Shakspeare
with doths and thousts alike
or maybe be more of a roughneck
and drive home the words like a spike

but I think I might listen to reason
no paremeters need ever be set
just write to the words I find in my pen
those exquisite prerequisite gems

oops.....lol
 
The real thing

She's never been 'all the way'
a fumble here and there that
aroused some very wet responses
leaving a longing too scared
to be put anywhere other than
onto paper where everyone
is taken .. oh yes to be taken
not fingers the real thing...
 
emaalr said:
it was in my virginal haste
I lay my good sesnses to waste
in trying to rhyme
I now see that I've
been writing with so little taste

parameters are to be challenged
so I wrote that last line to see
would I then find another line ending
in a word spelled ****ed

I guess I could brush up my Shakspeare
with doths and thousts alike
or maybe be more of a roughneck
and drive home the words like a spike

but I think I might listen to reason
no paremeters need ever be set
just write to the words I find in my pen
those exquisite prerequisite gems

oops.....lol
Click to expand...

E'en Shakespeare was himself a virgin, too:
An unexperienced lad, he shied away
And put to paper dreams before their due.
A hundred thoughts of sex, at least, a day:
Of how it'd feel to touch the curves of Ann,
Whose bosoms were the wonder of the gods;
One once had accidently brushed his hand--
She smiled and left him blushing with a nod.

And so, good reader, don't be shy yourself:
Write what you will, this all is just a game;
A way to make your poetry top shelf
Or just, the same, to pass your time away.
(I know those last two couplets do not rhyme;
I guess perfection's for another time.)
 
Picodiribibi said:
E'en Shakespeare was himself a virgin, too:
An unexperienced lad, he shied away
And put to paper dreams before their due.
A hundred thoughts of sex, at least, a day:
Of how it'd feel to touch the curves of Ann,
Whose bosoms were the wonder of the gods;
One once had accidently brushed his hand--
She smiled and left him blushing with a nod.

And so, good reader, don't be shy yourself:
Write what you will, this all is just a game;
A way to make your poetry top shelf
Or just, the same, to pass your time away.
(I know those last two couplets do not rhyme;
I guess perfection's for another time.)
Click to expand...


I dare not write the words for if I try
they'll whisper out like air from a balloon
leaving me flacid, all revealed. I'd die
or worse yet sound as if I'm a buffoon.
To is a preposition; come a verb.
Did Shakespeare say he came and not mean place?
I've heard the first time hurts. Will this disturb
my pen? If I slut up my poems, my face
might give away the secrets that I hide.
I've worked so hard to be an angel here,
dwell on the mundane. I cannot abide
my private thoughts displayed, but is my fear
misplaced? True, Shakespeare was a lusty bard.
I'll emulate him, come what may. Come hard.​
 
Angeline said:
I dare not write the words for if I try
they'll whisper out like air from a balloon
leaving me flacid, all revealed. I'd die
or worse yet sound as if I'm a buffoon.
To is a preposition; come a verb.
Did Shakespeare say he came and not mean place?
I've heard the first time hurts. Will this disturb
my pen? If I slut up my poems, my face
might give away the secrets that I hide.
I've worked so hard to be an angel here,
dwell on the mundane. I cannot abide
my private thoughts displayed, but is my fear
misplaced? True, Shakespeare was a lusty bard.
I'll emulate him, come what may. Come hard.​
Click to expand...

Lovely, Angeline.
Methinks old William Shakespeare would approve :rose:
 
Angeline said:
I dare not write the words for if I try
they'll whisper out like air from a balloon
leaving me flacid, all revealed. I'd die
or worse yet sound as if I'm a buffoon.
To is a preposition; come a verb.
Did Shakespeare say he came and not mean place?
I've heard the first time hurts. Will this disturb
my pen? If I slut up my poems, my face
might give away the secrets that I hide.
I've worked so hard to be an angel here,
dwell on the mundane. I cannot abide
my private thoughts displayed, but is my fear
misplaced? True, Shakespeare was a lusty bard.
I'll emulate him, come what may. Come hard.​
Click to expand...
Italian-American Sonnet, for Boy Soprano and Virginal

I'd guess that even Petrarch once was pure
For none are ever born unvirginal,
Especially Milton, and his studied chill.
All poets are first virgins, I am sure.
Write I of lusts unknown, of lusts endured,
Mere iambs joined with an untutored skill
And little knowledge of these fires, until
Into my lonely bed poetess lure.

And then! O, then flame on! What wild new themes
Will open like her legs or luscious mouth
Beneath my frenzied body! Bada bing!
Now grind and hump are useful words—and scream!
My Art moves from my brain to points down south!
I need your Body, dear. Of thee I'll Sing.
 
UnderYourSpell said:
Gosh .. is it hot in here?
Click to expand...

It is a mite toasty, isn't it? :)

I blame that picobibbitybobbityboo guy. I've always been a sucker for a sonnet. And Tzara's? Wooh! He even touched on my Sopranos obsession. Bada bing, indeed.

I couldn't imagine how to write to this challenge (Senna Jawa is a wily one), but it was pretty easy once I started. And the poems thus far have turned out well, haven't they?

:rose:
 
Well I blame champagne.

She started this all with a limerick
Addressing a poetic maverick;
And while Shakespeare is true,
A Milton will do:
For a sonnet in English it does the trick
 
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