Everyday Erotica

[Senna Jawa]

and inhale the salt of life

yes,

and inhale the salt and pepper and paprika of life​

C'mon, todski28, you can do infinitely better than this--I mean the whole poem, from the beginning to the end. Just forget this hm-poem. (Also, you may take classes from greenmountaineer in writing long and complex sentences, or ...--never mind, forget it).

Sabina, long time no see! Please visit

[url="http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=976195']litlog 2014++[/url]​

still in 2014 (while ++ means that 2015 will be still fine). You were supposed to do some activity in snow (with me ), did you?

 

[twelveoone]

definitely a forget me poem as is most of the stuff I fling out in threads it take work to make proper poetry and it's not that I am lazy more so that I am time poor to put in the required effort to work at whole concepts in minimalism, the way sonics uplift a piece, or how to make a reader intersect two or three thought processes to draw the correct moments of profoundness etc, there is a lot to learn from greenmountaineer who is one of the best writers here in my opinion, but there are only so many hours in a day, it annoys me that I cannot spend the time I need to on writing but life gets in the way of the finer things

Thank you for the comment because it will make me look through the poem. I still need to respond to you comments in my open invite thread but it has been put in the time restraints basket.

I feel as if I wont get much better than a middling word slinger because to get better it takes time, practice and effort.

write less, forget profound, your sonics are fine, de-cliche. de-cliche, some of it looks like pop porn for retarded women, 50 shades of flame fizzles

and life is the finer thing. poetry is a fucking joke. shit you do as a hobby

 

[todski28]

write less, forget profound, your sonics are fine, de-cliche. de-cliche, some of it looks like pop porn for retarded women, 50 shades of flame fizzles

and life is the finer thing. poetry is a fucking joke. shit you do as a hobby

Hobby's are the finer things, those moments when you get to sit back and enjoy something for the sake of it, those moments are what make life better than work and stress and whatever the fuck else is happening, thanks for your thoughts 120h

at least I now have a target audience

 

[playcatch]

I think write less is inexact. Write more acutely is better. And a target audience is a fine thing to have.

 

[pelegrino]

and life is the finer thing. poetry is a fucking joke. shit you do as a hobby

Can't argue with that!

 

[todski28]

*************************

 

[butters]

*************************

missed it

hello! x

 

[todski28]

missed it

hello! x

Nothing to be cross about, it was simply more todski's tripe

hello to yourself

 

[Desejo]

Tending Gardens

You cannot stack living things away
In drawers or encrypted files for when
No one is around, indulgences like long hot
Showers where your soaped hand
indulges

When you finally remember to water
The crimson flower will be faded and dry,
No stiff xylem or osmotic pressure
the snapping stamen once proudly extended
Languidly laps with desiccated tongue

A pitiful mewling pleasure

 

[Tzara]

You cannot stack living things away

Frankness

I just want your veil
to be lifted as I enter you

because your eyes themselves are not
sufficient; it is your lips that

are what complete our love.
Well, that, and your pussy, too.

 

[Senna Jawa]

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

 

[Tzara]

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.

 

[butters]

powerful piece

 

[greenmountaineer]

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

powerful piece

seconded

gritty contrasting emotions

 

[Senna Jawa]

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

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,

 

[Senna Jawa]

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
​

 

[butters]

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.

 

[Trixareforkids]

Removed

 

[Tzara]

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

 

[butters]

tods, could it be your phone adding those *'s

and its



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

 

[todski28]

tods, could it be your phone adding those *'s

and its



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

Funny I got a pm saying exactly the same thing so I fixed them lol I think it's the phone for sure

 

[Lyricalli]

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

 

[butters]

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

quietly beautiful, cleverly arranged

 

[todski28]

quietly beautiful, cleverly arranged

Agreed it reads like three separate pieces that all interlock in sound and imagery. The sounds are well defined as well. Nice work calli

 

[butters]

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